P.S. I Love You

With the last week at my sublet, I was getting food from my favourites. Monday was naan and lentils ($13) at Lahore Grill. Although this corner diner opens until 5 a.m., it was only getting started at 6 p.m. so some main items were still on the stove (like a vegetable curry). The upside was the cheaper price compared to the usual $17. On Tuesday, I went back to Samosa and Chaat for chicken byriani ($10). This place was the true hidden gem with cheap mains and appetizers: samosa ($1.50), pakora ($6). Wednesday I got a vegetable stir fry ($18 if cash) from Yummy House. Reluctantly, I have to admit that Yummy wasn't a great deal, not compared to the other spots and certainly not when stacked up with South Pacific: combination box ($10) and veggie stir fry ($10).

Tuesday night, I was at Dundas St. West and Bathurst to see a show ($31.75). Hard Luck Bar was up a flight of stairs and maintained its indie vibe (dark, dank, walls covered with band stickers) compared to its trendier neighbours like Carolina, a recent replacement for Queen Margherita Pizza (this location was a low-point for me). Both bands tonight were top-notched. Opener Feura had great stage presence whether chatting up the crowd or belting over some punk and alt-rock songs. They might have been from a small-town (Feura led the audience in a short line-dance), but with swagger (I'm The Man) and a jean jacket covered with pins and buttons, Korol Pikulik had energy and anger (Lose Your Head) to spare. They were joined by Horse (someone wearing a horse-head and the eponymous tee) for a dance and later, gave the stage for Nancy Reagan (Dae Conrod from Buddies' RED) to rap about "conservative values". You won't find a stranger (more ironic) audience chant: "I say neo, you say liberal".

I didn't think head-liner Panic Shack could have upped the energy level, but they succeeded. Not quite at Wet Leg-level buzz but the 5-piece already had fans (both young and older) who knew the lyrics to their garage rock songs. The 4 women at the front (guitars, bass, vocals) kept up the braggadocio (Jiu Jits You), ironic brat (Tit School), and fem power (Thelma and Louise, SMELLARAT). But this wasn't 3-chord punk with dancing bass line, punchy riffs, even a touch of psychedelic progression here and there. The older ones (and those new to them like myself) kept to the side, leaving the kids to bash each other around in the mosh pit. I got a t-shirt from Feura ($20) but with the line being 20-deep couldn't hang around for some Shack merch. Next time in Toronto, Panic Shack will be opening for the Sex Pistols so this will likely be my only encounter with their brash and delightful music.

Let It Rain On Mi

There were some Luminato festival events including aerial circus down at The Harbourfront. On Saturday, I went to Huy Ky for some bao before my trip to the lake. But while waiting for the Jones bus, the sun was so unrelenting that I headed home. In the afternoon, with years of gentrification, I couldn't think of any remaining Brazilian venue in the West End where I can watch them play Morocco.

On Sunday, perhaps to punish me for wasting a sunny day, the weather gods brought rain. I was able to get my laundry done before the change in weather. While waiting for my clothes, I wandered nearby streets such as Galt. At the North end where it was blocked by the train tracks, there were some interesting hidden sights in the car garage lanes. On one side, just before the stairs leading to the local high school, sat the tiny Danforth Music School, recently painted up with a bright mural of kids, instruments, and various animals. On the other side, just before the exit to Jones, was another mural created in 2025 to commemorate the local Asian population who used to live here. Oddly, between the two buildings was a short skywalk. These looked to be residential units now so I wondered what former businesses needed that path.

Rainy days were perfect for pho so I jumped on the streetcar to head to Mimi in East Chinatown. This place was recommended by someone I met at the laundromat. The restaurant was busy with every table full and a short line-up at the door during my time there. I just nabbed the last free table before the rush. The verdict on a large bowl ($16.95) was good but not great. Everything was fine including the beef slices and brisket, the bean sprouts, and the noodles. What it lacked was a really good broth: this one came in about average. I've had worse but at $23 (tax + tip), Mimi did not make my go-to list.

In the evening, Andrea Romolo with Kalascima was the closing act at The Taste of Italy. Since her show in Ottawa, she has found more opportunities as a collaborator (singer and dancer) with this traditional band from Southern Italy. But East End lethargy struck again and I stayed home to watch World Cup matches on my laptop.

The Beautiful Game

My Friday morning run was just a little before sunrise. The overnight rain had let up but there was still patches of light sprinkling. With some clouds remaining overhead and the sun below the horizon, the world was lit in orange sepia tones. The small strawberry patch in the front-yard had a dozen or more fully red fruit but I don't think my sublet's owner will be back in time to pick them. I chased a rainbow along Gerrard then headed south to Queen St. East. I didn't reach that main road this time but explored the little side-streets.

This being an extra rest day, I headed to Little Italy in the afternoon for the Canada vs Bosnia-Herzegovina game. Even the bar patios outside the main stretch were filled though it was mostly young people as I did not see the old Portuguese men. With the World Cup opening days coinciding with Taste of Little Italy, College St was closed from Shaw to Bathurst. They have moved the main stage into the Metro Grocery parking lot. Various vendors were still setting up: Japanese tacos, Brazilian pizza, Ice Cream In A Fruit. The main hub was Cafe Diplomatico at Clinton which already a line-up outside. But the other restaurants at that intersection all had patio TVs including Tondou Ramen. With no free spot, I watched the 1st half from the sidewalk then went home via the Dundas streetcar (it was detouring from College St).

I took a rest after a tasty meal of Congolese cassava stew (pondu madesu) and Indian pakoras. So I missed opener Maria Gabriella at The Burdock. Next up, Clara Smallman played with a 3-piece band. Similar to the 3 performers at the NXNE show on Wednesday, her audience were mostly parental units and friends. I am ambivalent about this sort of thing. With her wistful pop, Smallman liked alternate tunings and one-word titles (Fingernails, Carpet). She also did Shania Twain's You're Still The One. When she said that the cover was in tribute to NXNE as a local festival, I was bemused. I wouldn't consider megastar Twain to be a symbol of anything local or grassroots. But Smallman wasn't wrong about NXNE being local now. I haven't seen any non-Ontario acts at either shows. And a large mainstage with big names was a thing of the past.

The last two sets had more seasoned performers compared to Smallman (and Levy, Kovacs, Sully at Dina's Tavern). So I appreciated finally seeing some people's "A game" on stage. Willem James Cowan had engaging stage banter ("Willem as in Dafoe") and some clever, folky lyrics. His 3 bandmates were also assured. He played a few older songs from his 2022 debut but mostly presented material from his upcoming release. It will be a breakup album and although that could be metaphorical (a breakup with music on Nothing Left To Say), it was mostly literal. The ordeal was so devastating that Cowan left Toronto for London 2 years ago. His set ended with Back In The City about his dissociative feelings whenever he returns here for a gig.

 I came to this show specifically for Teagan Johnston despite her being on the last slot at 11 pm. I have seen Johnston only once back in 2018 when she was Little Coyote. But I own her newer releases on Bandcamp so I was curious to see her live again. Johnston brought a roster of accomplished friends including Thomas Kelly (Tired Kid) and Skye Wallace for a rich and layered 5-piece band. From the opening number My Luck, the closer Big Time, and others like FMJ (eff me Jesus), Deep Cut, and Neon Schoolgirl, the set had 3-part harmonies, intricate guitar, pulsing synth, and a solid foundation of drums and bass. Music as therapy (about your family, significant others, life in general) with deeply confessional lyrics never sounded so good.

Midway through the set, Johnston revealed that recently she had a nightmare that she was playing a big show without her favourite piano. So maybe tonight was to make up for it. Unfortunately, she deserved a larger audience than the few who had stuck around. But the small audience grew during her performance, slowly moved closer to the stage, and cheered louder and louder. To me, that was a better proof of talent than a packed room of known well-wishers. Now, Johnston just needed a lucky break.

Run in Place

On Thursday, I did an early morning run though I was out at a concert the night before. I headed East past Little India into the Eastwood area. There were plenty of trees and charming old homes. Though I have noticed that for some reason, on most streets in Toronto, the South and West side usually have better buildings or amenities. One such house at 77 Eastwood, looking like it belonged in a small town, apparently fetched $1.7M ($263K over asking) last April despite the current downturn in the market.

Lunch was leftover uyghur noodles from Kebab House. Just before I signed off for an extended weekend (thanks to the company's policy of treating the 2nd Friday of each month as an extra rest day), I conducted yet another interview. This was a solo effort since the Team Lead was off for two months. The face-to-face (via remote meeting) was a bit of a farce because before it even started, my VP strongly hinted that he wanted this candidate. And we "agreed" afterwards that they were a good fit. But if so, we should have simply made an offer without this extra interview. Certainly, their experience covered a skill gap on the team. And they were near the top of the ones I've talked too. But they were the sort of technical, hip-deep in the weeds, nerd that failed the "presentation aspect" of an interview.

The rain cleared just long enough for me to head over to Nganda to get dinner. With rice at home, I chose the vegan Pondu Madesu ($11.90) and fried plantain ($6). The tables in the restaurant were named after African cities. Each one should have a laminated card with a menu QR code on one side and a photo with a travel blurb about the city on the other. But they were all kept on the counter instead. So while waiting for my order, I read about Accra, Lagos, Dakar, and so on.

The pondu and plantain went great with my white rice. The vegan part was probably the omission of salted fish in the stew. I didn't know that pondu (cassava leaves) needed to be pounded or boiled to be non-toxic. So thank you to whoever did that laborious work. The madesu or beans added a soft chew and overall, it was fragrant and delicious.