Mozo, Hozo, Bozo, and Snide

Mitzi's On College is the 3rd restaurant in the Mitzi franchise. It offers only a menu until 4 pm. Located on a busy stretch of College, blessed with a large side patio, and offering hipster cred: cool waitstaff, local artists' showcases, etc., it has taken over Boom as the place to eat. Although it opened several months ago, this was my first visit.

If I was shocked at Grapefruit Moon's prices, I was flabbergasted by Mitzi's. $13.75 for some eggs, toast, and home fries?! Add in a small orange juice + tax and tip, and the bill came to about $20. So that mother and her 2 elementary school-aged daughters at the table next to me just plopped down $60 for brunch. My mom and grandma would be appalled. As an aside, I just noticed that the menu listed on the website contains a fair selection of choices for under $10. However, the menu given to me, and everybody else, had only the pricey weekly specials.

On the plus side, it was quite good prosciutto stuffed inside my omelette but I could do without the sweet potato mush. The eggs were nicely done into even, professional layers. I also enjoyed the fried sage as garnish. The home fries were fried lightly spiced with some onions. My tasty sourdough bread was generously buttered. A selection of fresh fruit slices finished off the plate.

Oddly, for a brunch menu, it wasn't that filling. My conclusion: for $20/person, unless I'm showing off how lively my neighbourhood is to a visitor, I'd rather spend about that money on a thali platter at Banjara or some dim sum at Rolsan.

Horizon Alternative School is a junior high school located in the College and Bathurst area. It's unclear to me what pull (e.g., social capital) the parents/teachers have, but their fund-raising "garage sale" is a cut above the rest. Outside you can find your typical used bike, hockey sticks, and so on as well as pizza slices, home-made muffins and cookies, and various beverages. Inside, there's used board games, old shoes, and other garage knick-knacks. It's not until you enter into the main room where the silent auction as well as a live auction is taking place that you see the difference: wine collection, ski trips, spa vacations, art work, and much pricier items are up for sale.

Last year, I was able to win a 10-class gift certificate to Downward Dog Yoga studio for $70. That's 50% cheaper than usual. Unfortunately, for this year, the selection of silent auction items were not as nice. There were no Yoga items for sale. I was tempted by a collection of signed Cowboy Junkies CDs/DVDs but decided against it. Voice lessons, messenger bags, iPod nanos, and such didn't interest me. The live auction had some nice items, but much pricier than I wanted to spend.

This is the 2nd time I've joined the Circus In the Park people at Dufferin Grove. You can learn some trapeze tricks, maybe climb the silk rope, try to walk the slack-line, or do some partner acro-yoga. They're all harder than you think. I still can't seem to go up those silk sheets, I guess I would have flunked gym back in high school if they had rope climbing. I don't think I lasted 2 seconds on the slack-line without a shoulder to hold on to. Random adults do also join in, but it's mostly the kids who are most fearless about trying out these new activities.

I'm not usually into improv comedy as I find they are, in fact, not that funny. But the Comedy Bar promised a night of improvised musical theatre satirizing the show Glee called Gleeks. It was quite amusing with some laugh out loud moments. It was obvious that while some scenes and songs were set pieces, other scenes and some song lyrics try to incorporate suggestions from the audience into a recurring theme. Based on the initial responses, the running gag was that the glee club members suffered from major acne and hair loss. The latter was due to a nefarious plot by Drew, coach of the Shreddies (as opposed to Sue Sylvester of the Cheerios) to secretly exposed them to Nair. The singing was adequate and the lyrics were unexceptional. Though they try for variety, for example responding to the audience's suggestions of show tunes and disco, all the songs were solidly in the Rent genre of pop musical. But all in all, a fun way to spend 1 hour or so on a Saturday night.

Tappity Tap

Compagnie La Otra Orilla is a Montreal-based contemporary dance company. Headed by Myriam Allard as choreographer and dancer and Hedi Graja as director and singer. Allard is trained in traditional flamenco dancing and the 75 min El 12 (el doce), presented at the Enwave Theatre, is her vision of using flamenco techniques in contemporary dance. From the 12 beats that underly the flamenco rhythm, El 12 explores 12 hours, 12 months and more generally the passage of time. More can be found here in this review by Paula Citron. As noted by Citron, the audience was first confused but then won over by the company. This can be seen, or rather heard, by the various olés (or maybe opas) shouted after a particularly exciting set of movements.

Beyond using the dance vocabulary of flamenco, as well as its songs, there are echos of various flamenco dance styles. Unlike Paula Citron, I do not think it is purely a thematic function of each vignette that Myriam danced that way. Her robotic mimicry of the ticking of the clock came from this. The trailing gown and soft dance steps where she seemed to be the ceaseless, and eternal, ocean are from what most think of when they hear flamenco. Finally, her musty doll with its fan was inspired from the flamenco fan.

Though Graja provided fine sing, you can really hear the Moorish influence, and Eric Breton (percussion) and Kraig Adams (guitar) were also excellent, I was struck by Caroline Planté gorgeous guitar work. Her classical, Spanish-style playing was mesmerizing. I'm curious to hear her first cd, 8 reflexiones en un invernadero. Also, I'm wondering if her guitar is smaller than usual, for her fingers seemed almost freakishly long on stage, like all professional guitarists or pianists, as she worked the frets. Yet in person, she is a tiny woman with normal-looking hands.

The only minor nit-pick of the evening was that I was seated on a 2nd level side balcony seat with "obstructed viewing". Ostensibly, the obstruction is from the balcony railing, as noted by the ticket agent. Actually, a set of speakers hanging off that balcony railing just in front my seat blocked off most of the video being projected to the back of the stage as well some of the performance when it moved farther back. I had to crane around to see those parts. However, the plus side was that I was looking down right at the front of the stage and had a great close-up view of the dancing especially the intricate footwork and tapping.

Thicker Than Water

At the Factory Theatre, I saw a touring production of Where The Blood Mixes. This play, written by Kevin Loring, won the 2009 Governor General's Literary Award for Drama.

Somewhere in B.C., two Native men, Floyd (Billy Merasty) and Mooch (Ben Cardinal), spend their days lounging around and drinking at a bar owned by George (Tom McBeath), a white man. Floyd, a retired rail-road worker, is generally taciturn though given to witty put-downs of his friend. Mooch used to be a logger. He now lives up to his name, sponging off Floyd and stealing money from his girlfriend, the long-suffering June (Margo Kane). Jason Burnstick provides the music, playing on his many acoustic guitars, ostensibly as a musician at the bar.

The men trade tall tales, insults, and well-trodden arguments. Though their conversations are initially funny and profane, the audience begins to sense a darkness in their lives. The disturbing flashbacks and fleeting dreams hint at some reasons for their wastrel idleness. They joke about the settlement they'll be receiving from the government for the residential school abuses, but the jokes aren't quite so funny.

The tension and mystery ratchet up when we discover that a young woman name Christine (Kim Harvey) is coming to visit Floyd. It turns out Floyd gave her up long ago to foster care. Why? How? Everything comes to a head and we understand the long shadow that the residential school experience has cast over the lives of Floyd, Mooch, June and even unto the next generation in Christine.

The men fish at Kumsheen, the place where two rivers meet. But some native elders say Kumsheen say it is actually the place inside the heart where the blood mixes. Water carries secret, and so does blood.

It was quite an emotional play for both the actors and the audience. Many needed kleenex and hankerchiefs. I got teary-eyed myself at a cathartic moment. It was probably a personal play for many too. On my way out, I overheard an older man saying to a woman as they embraced: "That's your story."

Karaoke Damaci

Karaoke is now a popular activity, which has spread into more mainstream culture include live-band karaoke and even rap karaoke. Although some people take it too seriously.

I was excited to go to a party where there was some English karaoke as part of the entertainment. I have sung 2-3 times at a friend's house. But Vietnamese songs come in two flavours: depresssing and suicidal. Will singing in English be different? Let's find out!

Lots of English pop songs have catchy chorus, or at least evoke a nostalgic feeling of past youth, and so encourage people to join in on the fun.

Sadly, I have a range of about 1.5 octave. And I sing most songs in my upper register which leads to a sore throat the next day. I should either find out what key will cover most my range or sing falsetto more often.

It's interesting to watch a couple engage in a bit of passive-aggressiveness in a duet which teeters between endearing (oh, love banter) and public meltdown (hmm, that was awkward).

Some people have naturally strong voices and performing chops. Others are naturally enthusiastic.

I've never known anyone to be tone-deaf. There's lots of reasons for someone without training to sing off-key: a capella, no musical intro hinting at the first new notes, at the limit of their range, unfamiliarity with the melody, large interval jump between notes, and of course trying to hold a note. But to be off on practically every note is quite something to behold behear.

How Gauche

The Left Bank are the french quarters located on the left side (or rive gauche) or the river Seine in Paris. It has always been famous for being poorer but more welcoming of creative and artistic talents. Apparently after WWII, there was a resurgence of French music that originated from this area.

Alliance Francaise, a centre designed to promote la francophonie, held a night of cabaret music to celebrate songs from this era. I went to the cabaret with the expectation of perhaps 20-30 people. In fact, probably over 70 people sat cheek to jowl on plastic chairs in a small gallery. Late-comers had to stand in the back or sat on the floor. It didn't feel very much like a lazy, romantic night in Paris.

But our hostess, Sophie Perceval, took us away from Toronto to the Rive Gauche of the 40s. Actually being from there before moving to Toronto, her soft and oh-so-smooth Parisian french painted some beautiful images of this area as the show continued. She even joined in on some ensemble singing throughout the night.

First up was Tom Howell, who was the pianist for the night, as well as switching now and then to a violin or a guitar. He opened the cabaret with A Saint-Germain-Des-Prés (lyrics). He had a slight difficulty wrapping his English tongue around a few French sounds but was otherwise in fine form. His occasionally raspy voice reminded me of a younger Tom Waits. An amusing singer but overall average.

19-year-old Kaili Kinnon made a grand entrance with Mathias (lyrics), very much in full Edith Piaf mode with her deep voice and trills (which I think is an affectation as her songs online do not have the same phrasing.) She is a student of Catherine Robbin at York University in jazz and classical music. Her training was evident as she often sang standing a full foot or more away from the microphone. Perhaps because of her age or sensibility, she typically emoted in a pop-style. She had a major meltdown on her second song, Je chante pour passer le temps, when she forgot the lyrics multiple times. It was a little bit painful to watch but she recovered for the rest of the evening.

In contrast, Geneviève Cholette showed her musical theatre and acting background. Her singing was more theatrical, with pauses, some spoken words, and many expressive movements. She is not as strong as singer as Kaili (relatively-speaking) but inhabited her role more fully. Her first song, Ta Katie t'a quitté (lyrics), was a comedic piece full of tongue twisters and sound play. Apparently, she has a small acting career and a trio of comediennes, Les Chiclettes.

Joining the 3 singers on a few songs was accordionist Tangi Ropars in a suit, fedora, scruffy beard, and pony tail. However, I don't think he was dressed in period wear.

In all, 18 songs were sung, much to the delight of the more white-haired attendees. However, most of the audience were probably under 40. The songs that talked more about the war and the period after didn't have as much resonance with me. Possibly because my auditory understanding of la belle langue is probably only around 80-85%. But there was a stretch of 4 songs, Une petite cantate, Les feuilles mortes, Verre brisé, and L'écharpe that was quite beautiful. The evening ended with the sing-along Saint-Germain-des-Prés.

I was pleasantly surprised that there wasn't much Cletus-style quebecois french heard. Most spoke with a french accent (Parisian and elsewhere), some had the relatively cosmopolitan Montreal french, and there was a smattering of utilitarian, but inoffensive, Franco-Ontarian. If I had known that show would have been attended by so many young French women who spoke with that buttery accent, I would have come much earlier before the show, and perhaps tried to remember what I can from my French Immersion classes from oh so long ago.

Commonality

The stretch of College on either side of Dufferin is forlornly unhip for the 10 years I've lived in the area. Dominated by a convenience store on the corner, the remaining businesses are local Vietnamese or Portuguese. However, if it ever became trendy, I would point to the coffee shop The Common as the beginning.

When this little cafe replaced an old business here, I didn't give it much of a chance. But perhaps because of word of mouth, good coffee (never been inside as I don't drink coffee), or the influx of hipsters and 20-something to the area, it became quite popular. There are always numerous people inside, usually surfing on their laptop, and hanging outside. I figure that the cafe has officially "arrived" for 3 reasons. One, "The Common" is starting to show up on Craigslist's missed connections and as a meeting spot (frequently overheard at the local Y: "Let's meet up at The Common".) Two, people actually drive there to get coffee. Perhaps they are in the neighbourhood but in a rush or on their way somewhere else. Nevertheless, considering that within a 30 second drive, there are 2 Tim Hortons, a Second Cup, and a Starbucks nearby (as well as that convenience store), they do have other choices. Finally, a bike shop opened next door. So what? Well, a fair number of patrons arrive at the cafe on fancy race bikes with the full paraphernalia (e.g., tight spandex with bright logos, bike shoes with clip, and so on), others come with their cute fixies and trendy old-timey bikes. In other words, I'm certain the bike shop opened at that location because of The Common. If trendier businesses start to replace the local ones and the area gentrifies, I will claim that it was The Common that created the beach-head.

Contrast this to Arabesque, which predates The Common by about 2 years, and sits kitty-corner to it. You would think this place would also be popular, as it is also a cozy little shop, and has both a front and side patio. It serves a delicious Bedouin-style strong mint tea called Blood of the Pigeon, its Arabesque coffee is boiled with cardamom, and the owner also serves espressos and americanos. Unfortunately, it comes across as more of a middle-eastern lunch place. Although its selection of middle-eastern desserts and pastries is probably one of the most extensive in the city, and its pita wraps are a cut above the average shawarma joint, this also dooms it as an ethnic destination. In other words, you go there if you're in the mood for some falafel or a kibbeh, but not otherwise. But I think one of the primary failing is that Arabesque doesn't usually open until 10 am, and not until 11 am on Sunday (it also closes early at 4 pm on Sunday, too). When your putative competition opens its door at 6 am and has served probably 30-40 customers by 9, well the early bird and all that.

Well if you're in the area, you'll probably want to check out The Common. But maybe give Arabesque some love, too.

Girls, Girls, Girls

Phoenix Concert Theatre was host to 2 bands with 'Girls' in their name. But before I got in the door, there was a small scene at the front. Some underage girls bought tickets, thinking or were informed that this was an all-ages concert. But apparently it was not and the large bouncer wouldn't let them in. That's gotta ruin your week-end though the consolation is that the ticket was only about $17.

First up, the Dum Dum Girls. A 4 member, all girls band whose sound is a mix of 60s pop harmony with a grungier guitar sound. What happens if Michael J. Fox brought back a tape of the Ramones for Lesley Gore, I suppose. Being physically attractive, think goth all black (Lydia from Beetlejuice?) meets Nancy Sinatra, they drew more than the usual number of guys around the stage area. They have a nice sound, if a little bit technically unsophisticated. The bass singer, Jane Fonda as Barberella, seems bored with her simple bass lines. The lead guitarist did the usual (slight) head banging. However, the lead singer and guitarist had a Chuck Berry duck-walk head bopping thing going but side to side.

The headliner was Girls. A 5 member, all boys band whose sound is 60s Beach Boys harmony with a more modern crunchy and raw sound. The leader singer, Christopher Owens, sounds a bit like Elvis Costello. They sound really good and had a nice vibe. Technically, they were much tighter and more professional than the Dum Dum Girls. From their videos, it looks like they either live, or espouse, the hipster lifestyle. But that's all good, I'm not a hipster hater. If I was young and skinny, hanging out and doing artistic things, and dating young, skinny women, I'd think my life was pretty cool, too.

It's interesting how these two groups can take an old sound and make it sound new and not derivative, unlike this show I saw at the Garrison.

Ten Second Story

I was riding home on the College St. car. Across from me sat a stunning woman with her young (6-7 year-old?) son. There was something familiar about her face, especially her gorgeous, enormous eyes. And in the way she talked to him about King Tut, I had heard that cadence before.

Finally, I asked her if she used to play on a big sofa with her doll. And whaddaya know? She did. Yup, it was Loonette the Clown. Somehow, I just feel better knowing Loonette lives in my neighbourhood.

The fact that Alyson Court is a beautiful woman in real life has nothing to do with it.

Did that sound convincing?

Update: Oh, look. I've been tweeted. My very first. I guess I'm officially part of the 21st century. As an aside, some of those tweets are a little ... odd. I guess Loonette is all grown up.

Stories

We tell stories. All the time. This is me. This is not me. I'm like this. I'm like that. This will happen. I hope things turn out like this. Yoga teaches us to calm the story-teller. To be in the moment without judgment, regret, anticipation.

But even within the practice itself, we tell stories. I can do this pose. I can't do that pose. If only I can put my leg here, I will be a better yogi. This is too hard. This is too easy. Why does the instructor keep talking?

Over the course of the Easter week-end, I was confronted again and again that stories I tell, very often they have no reality. In other words, real life and events intrude and things don't turn out as you think or hope they would. Nothing major or life changing: I did not suddenly discover I'm adopted, or that my mother has been stealing my money. But still, these little contradictions remind me that I still have a way to go to bring my Yoga practice off my mat and into my everyday life. That one of its tenets is to stop telling stories, to not cling to well-worned ways of thinking or feeling or doing, to mistake desire for truth.

Grapefruit Diet

Being around Bathurst and Bloor area on Sunday, I was looking for a brunch place that was not Future Bakery. A few blocks north, I ran into Grapefruit Moon. This looks like a popular place with the locals, although a quick search showed that it was infamously portrayed on Restaurant Makeover.

Nevertheless, I went inside and ordered a Cheddar and Peameal Omelette ($9 + tax). They were out of peameal so I settled for regular bacon. Well, whatever Restaurant Makeover did cosmetically, it's been changed. The decor inside is uniformly dark: the tables, booths, bar, and even walls. Lots of paintings and kitschy toys, figurines, and such adorn the walls. Tammy Wynette and Cake played on the stereo. The tiny kitchen and bar were staffed by Sandy Moon (the owner), 2 other women, a young man, and Sandy's elementary school-aged daughter who help bring some dishes to the customers. Numerous customers knew Sandy (and vice versa) by name or sight. It's obviously a neighbourhood hang-out.

If I was living in the neighbourhood, I might hang out there, too. (Not really). But there's nothing special about it to make it a destination. I appreciate the fact that some ingredients are a cut above the standard diner (free range eggs, multi-grain bread, etc.) but you're paying for the privilege. Compare the all-day breakfast 2 eggs, homefries, and toast ($6.50) with bacon/sausage (+ $2 extra) with the same from my local diner ($4.25). Are free-range eggs and multi-grain toast (and possibly better quality meat) worth the extra $4.25?

I was a bit disappointed with my omelette. I can't put my finger on it, but there was a sloppiness to it that seemed amateurish. It looked like something any inexperienced cook could make as long as they have access to cheddar, eggs, bacon, and a stove. The home fries tasted like any other pre-packaged potato product dunked in a professional deep-fryer.

Anyway, as I was eating, I was thinking about how my own local diner, located at Bloor and Dovercourt, could attract more people especially trendy hipsters like this place. It's reasonably full Saturday and Sunday mornings but usually empty otherwise. Given that Boom, Mitzi's On College, and Disgraceland are in the area, there's obviously a market for it.

First, the name has got to go: "Ackbah Billy Mohsen Souvlaki Place" probably doesn't cut it with the fixie set. I don't know ... call it "Dover-easy" or something. There's a tiny patio, about 4 small tables, and no room to expand. However, adding an awning might help. There is a small sliding door from the patio to the rest of the place. If he was willing to install garage-door style wall or a full sliding glass to the restaurant side that's attached to the patio, something that can slide completely away, it would feel as if the patio extends into the entire restaurant. Billy has got to replace the plastic patio set, and the 30 year old formica tables inside. Doesn't have to be expensive, just "authentic". Mismatched decor is ok, as long as it feels homey (see Grapefruit Moon). Get rid of the TV showing CP24 or MuchMoreMusic and replace it with an "indie-friendly" stereo system. Finally, I'm afraid Billy will never be as congenial and loveable as Sandy and her daughter, but maybe he can hire waitresses and cashier that are more "with it".

Also, revise the menu. Not many will be ordering the souvlaki plate, or the $10 steak, or any of the miscellaneous items. They make the place look sad and 1976. Stick to breakfast/brunch (eggs, bacon, etc.) and lunch/dinner dishes like burgers and BLTs. Upgrade to organic or healthy options, add some local beer on tap, and he could bump up his prices (see Grapefruit Moon or any trendy brunch spots).

Boyz To Meh

After the movie, I made my way down the block to the Burrito Boyz around College and Clinton. I've heard numerous reviews about this franchise and their gourmet burritos. I ordered a large shrimp burrito which came to $10.17 after taxes.

While I was waiting for my burrito, a few thoughts popped into my head. Why don't they add more seating in this barren layout? Is it a hip thing? Also, working at McDonald's is obviously a McJob. Is it better here because you can wear piercings and play hip-hop and dance music? Ah, here comes my burrito.

This is kind of bland. Sure, seafood doesn't really absorb the flavour of its sauces but I've had shrimp that were sweet and juicy. They haven't overcooked it because it's not rubbery but outside of the chewiness there's not much else. The crispy wrap is nice but the rest of the ingredients is just so-so. It's not better than any Tex-Mex franchise out there. I guess if I'm out late and other places have closed I could go here.

So the verdict is that New York Subway, at Queen and Bathurst, still makes the best burritos in Toronto. The regular ones are around $5 and the jumbo ones are under $10. The jumbo ones are probably 33% to 50% bigger than Burrito Boyz'. And the best part? Both the vegetarian options (and there are 3-5) and the meat options are spiced indian-style. That's right ... Indian-Mexican burritos! Get it spicy if you can stand the heat, but don't wimp out any lower than medium though. The vegetarian ones have a slight edge because they are more obviously indian-inspired, and also the meat burritos are stuffed with lettuce filler. But you can't go wrong either way.

One caveat though. Preparation is slow even when there's no lineup. So prepare to wait at least 10-15 minutes. Better yet, I believe you can call ahead and place your order. Or spend your time wandering down to Misbehav'n at 650 Queen W and watch the dancers in lingerie shake their money maker.

Let's Dance

La Danse: The Paris Opera Ballet is a 2.5 hrs documentary by Frederick Wiseman exploring all the ins and outs of the Paris Opera Ballet playing at the Royal. It primarily focuses on the dance practices and classes leading up to the full-dress performance. But it also dwells on all the minutiae that is required of any large institution: the management, the PR, service people (janitors, cafeteria cooks, etc.), and so on. Some thoughts as I was watching this:

First, I love the shots of Paris. What a magical city. Why did I never followed up on my half-articulated desire to move there after University?

Second, the dancers are quite amazing ... and so thin. Most people don't have that level of fitness or coordination. I think the girl a few seat over in my row is a dancer. Not only is she wearing ballet slipper-style flats but only a dancer can be that thin and look lithe instead of anorexic.

Third, I wonder why Wiseman is showing mostly modern, contemporary dances during the full-dress performance. Is it him or the Paris Opera Ballet? I wonder what the mostly silver-haired set watching this thinks about this? I'm not sure they want to hear that electronic music or see fake blood being splashed around. (Apparently, some don't)

Fourth, it's full of white people. Oh, there's 1 Asian ballerina. Woman who irons the costume: Southeast Asian. Cashier at the cafeteria: black woman. Maintenance staff covering up a hole in the wall: black man. Cleaning staff picking up trash and vacuuming after a show: another black man. Management, choreographers, dancers, chefs, head seamstress, costumes, lighting, etc: white, white, white, white, white, white, white. I'm sure the juxtaposition was merely coincidental but it's interesting isn't it.

Crossroads

My first taste of Ethiopian food was back in University at a now defunct restaurant on Wellington St. in Ottawa. The gregarious owner explained that the Ethiopian Empire was part of the Silk Road and traded spices, among other things, with India, Europe and so on. This crossroad meant that numerous influences from various cultures informed Ethiopian cuisine. Furthermore, religious traditions meant that the average Ethiopian diet was 1/3 of the time vegetarian hence the prevalence of vegetarian dishes in the cuisine. I also discovered that some Middle Eastern cooking was very mild, as a number of Iranian friends could not handle the lightly spiced (to me) Ethiopian dishes.

That restaurant is long gone although its only other (much more down-market) competitor, Horn of Africa, is still around. Of course, Ottawa has become a lot less homogeneous since then and there are now numerous Ethiopian and African restaurants in the Capital region.

It's been almost 10 years since I last had Ethiopian as it's not one of my favourite food. But I've had it 3 times in as many weeks at Lalibela in Toronto. This restaurant is located in the Bloor and Ossington area on a stretch from Dovercourt to Shaw that is homed to possibly 7 or 8 Ethiopian/African restaurants. People I've talked to also recommend Nazareth (a controversial choice as it seems to be hit/miss), Zagol (now closed), and African Palace. Lalibela seems to be a middle of the road choice. Outside of this area, there is always Ethiopian House on Yonge, and Addis Ababa on Queen St., among others.

The tangy taste of injera bread, caused by fermentation, as well as the mushy mains (wat) can be off-putting for a first-time diner. However, I found the injera at Lalibela to be not quite so sour. This may be a good or bad thing, if you are more of a connoisseur than I am. The wats are tasty, especially the vegetarian ones. I don't like the tibs as much, I find the meat wats contain more of the sauce flavour.

There's another reason why the restaurants on this strip may be a destination, depending on what you'd consider part of a restaurant's charm. I took a friend who had never had Ethiopian before to Lalibela. He's a bit of a horn-dog. So his eyes became bigger and bigger as the night went on as a procession of young, attractive women came to dine here too ... or just strolling past. Easy to explain. This area is becoming trendy, and more and more hipsters frequent or live in the neighbourhood resulting in Comedy Bar, Disgraceland, Concord Cafe, Saving Gigi and, of course, more business for some of the local businesses. Others, such as the Greek coffee shops populated by old men or the Portuguese sports bars, aren't cool enough to have benefited.

As a side note, one of those cute women was the Manic Pixie Dream Girl from my local laundromat, but that's another post.