Lamb Shank Redemption

On Sunday, my ability to get a final meal from Chef Saha at BHK Roll hit several snags. I first headed there for lunch but the subway was out-of-commission again. Another signal upgrade from Jane to Ossington would not have affected me. Yet when I got to the station, a train with un-cooperative doors at Ossington itself had extended the shutdown to all stations. I spent 10 minutes waiting for a bus to take me to Wellesley station. This alternate route would leave me 1 stop from my destination.

But since it didn't arrive promptly, I stayed in the neighbourhood and went to Hana Sushi instead. I sat between some elderly folks: one was having lunch with her daughter and grandkids, the other was a couple of old friends going to see "talkies" (i.e., classic movies) at The Paradise. It was interesting to watch people who were not exposed to non-mainstream cuisine during their early adulthood. The grandma had never even tried edomame. It wasn't surprising that they all ordered bento boxes; tempura pieces and chicken teriyaki were familiar enough to other food to not be scary. My own sushi combo ($18) included 8 nigiri pieces and california rolls. I previously liked the veggie combo but forgot from my first visit that the fish were rather bland here. Or maybe like my grandma, my taste buds have dulled as I've gotten older.

For dinner, I tried the subway again. It was slower than usual since the trains had to unload passengers at Ossington and then reverse to head back the other way. When I got to BHK Roll, there were 2 minor problems. First, their internet was out so it was cash or e-transfer. Second, the roti option wasn't available tonight. I chose the Gosht Nizami ($24) and got 2 more surprises. The basmati rice was actually biriyani and the lamb was still on the bone. The meal was quite rich and tasty but the meat, while tender, was gamier than last time. Also, using food-court utensils to cut the meat, and with the whole thing inside a cardboard take-out container, was an exercise in "move very slowly and carefully".

Chimerical

On Saturday, I found conclusive proof that the unhoused person who owned the shopping carts was still around. During the day, I went to the library at Gladstone to look at some newspaper. I was, once again, almost certain that a woman sleeping inside was her. Unlike the male indigents in the neighbourhood, she kept her hair clean and her clothes neat. So there were no obvious markers of homelessness. In the late evening, the shopping carts were finally moved. They were blocking the doorway to a store, providing some measure of privacy, while she laid in a sleeping bag behind them. It did meant that throughout the winter months since January when they were stuck in the snowdrift, she wasn't using them.

Lunch was a mixture of veggies from No Frills, fried rice from South Pacific, spicy potatoes (they were correctly described as shredded potato, but stir-fried and then cool down) from Szechuan Noodle Bowl, and a cinnamon donut from Better Days. On my way to the library, I had seen some runners finished off their run by visiting the shop. Bloor had even more runners, though not quite in the obnoxious packs I have seen in online videos.

At night I visited The Burdock, a venue I haven't gone to during my sublet. Doors at 8:30 pm suggested a late show, but the first band started promptly at 9 pm. Bitchstick's members were definitely young, if not high-school teenagers, then not far from it. Or maybe everybody under 30 look like babies to me now. Their fans were split between equally young friends and some family members. I didn't mind as much as other "family shows" because one, they were just starting their musical career, and two, they played music that sounded fresh and contemporary.

I came because my online curiosity was pique by the band called Monstrosa. They turned out to be primarily women except for the drummer. The members wore Lucha Libra mask, Halloween demon mask, or what looked like a welding mask brightly painted and decorated with plastic monster fangs. Meanwhile, Pryce and her back-up singer were glammed up with glittery make-up and clubby clothes.

I have opined about liking danceable music. It seems I also like songs with furious drumming, chugging chords, and riff-heavy runs (oh, so many riffs). It was wall-to-wall bangers including a rocking cover of Blondie's Call Me. Debbie Harry was an inspiration because she didn't achieve success until she was 30. This was a good reminder for Pryce as a counteract to a youth-obsessed scene (Olivia Rodrigo, Billie Eilish). Well, I hoped that Monstrosa get some traction because to be both lead singer and guitarist, Pryce had the musical chops. The rest of the band was equally energetic. If Arenas played a $30 set for a $20 show, Monstrosa gave us a $40 act for $10 cover. It was too bad there was no merch for sale.

I was feeling the effects of late nights (for me) and stressful days. So I headed back home instead of staying for another rock band going by the moniker of Nameless Friends.

A-fun-cular

When I missed lunch by 2.5 hours because of a work meeting, I wasn't going to let it happen again on Friday. So I took advantage of the sunshine to head to No Frills at noon for a few basic items like fruit and oat milk to tie me over until my departure. I stopped by Szechuan Noodle Bowl to try more of their non-noodle dishes. This time it was cumin-spiced cauliflower ($15.49) and hot-and-sour shredded potatoes ($9.49). The portion sizes were huge and even two people could not finish them. Both dishes were delicious though I wonder if there was an error in translation. The potatoes tasted like some sort of raw root vegetable. Either that or they have perfected a way to prepare crunchy raw taters. When the waiter helped me collect the leftovers into take-out containers (more than enough for 3 more meals), they mentioned that I was like an older relative to them. Oof! It's still hard to contemplate that I was a "historical figure" to the younger generation.

Later on that evening, I wasn't the oldest at The Baby G but I wasn't far off. I was mostly there for Tange, whom Little Junior joked lovingly as a "Toronto legend". Certainly they was the most successful, not the trio itself, but the career of the individual members: Deanna Petcoff, Sabrina Carrizo Sztainbok, and Luna Li. Sadly, the latter was not present tonight and Tange had a substitute drummer. Perhaps she had other commitments or now that she can fill Danforth Music Hall, Li no longer wanted to play dinky venues per her Mod Club show.

Being more or less a side project, Tange has only put out a handful of songs in 10 years. But tonight we were treated to several new numbers. They had a cool vibe and combined elements of pop (without sounding dated) with atmospheric garage. The songs were fun and approached well-worn tropes in a novel way: a song about relationship commitment meant getting the smartphone password. Deanna and Sabrina's vocals blended well, were usually understated, but sometimes were let loosed with Evanescence-esque power.

The fun continued with Little Junior. They were an energetic four piece, somewhere between Weezer and Green Day. I couldn't quite sussed what they were singing about through my earplugs, but the music was catchy and danceable. I was going to duck out but gave headliner Arenas a chance at a few songs. The drummer/singer quipped that they wanted to give a $30 performance for a $20 show. They delivered on that promise and I ended up staying for their entire set. It was as if early David Byrne met a muscular psych rock outfit: slinky bass, propulsive drums, and odd chords and riffs.

Winding Down

The last few days felt like a redux of my final weeks in Toronto back in 2021. But this time, I kept it local to just my neighbourhood. On Tuesday, I made an effort to look for the owner of the abandoned shopping carts. It's hard to recognize someone who, to be honest, was in the background as you walk by over the years. But I was 90 percent sure that the woman sleeping in the lobby of a bank was her. I originally wanted another "calzone" from 241 Pizza for dinner, but the main proprietor wasn't working. Sure enough, my go-to option the veggie slice ($5.50) wasn't quite as good as usual.

Still feeling peckish, I walked East looking for dessert but bakeries have closed at 5. I stepped inside Banquet Burger at Delaware and ordered regular fries ($4.99).  The fries came in a larger portion than a fast-food joint and satisfied my carb craving. At first, I thought it was a replacement of a previous burger joint (that my friend and I visited once) which was itself a follow-up to Fancy Franks. But it was simply a signage change and a menu switch from regular to smash burgers. Still, I hate when a property becomes a restaurant because it will never be another business again. Restaurant rows, like the Ossington Strip, were the worse sort of gentrification despite their lively night-time vibe.

On Wednesday, I was back at Delaware for a veggie plate ($14.99) from Laziza. I usually have these to go, but with the craziness from work, I needed to take a mid-day break outside of my sublet. I recognized my server who was the sort that didn't overfill my container. But he gave everyone a small lentil soup which was a nice, warming side. I can't complain too much since there was still enough left-over for lunch the next day.

In fact, I was inside all of Thursday. My boss, stressing about the upcoming deadline, kept me in a meeting that lasted from 11:30 am until 2:30 pm. The sunshine became a continuous drizzle well into the evening. My final dinner from South Pacific was both a mistake and completely appropriate. I thought I was getting a combo with mixed veggies with shrimp and fried rice. It turned out to be all fried batter: spring rolls, sweet and sour chicken balls, and also sweet and sour shrimp. It was the quintessential "take-out food" and quite addictive. So I made an effort to leave most of the fried rice for another day.