Planes, Trains, and Automobiles

Heading back to Toronto, I got more adventure than I wanted. Just as the train pulled out of the station around 5:30 pm, word came that an Idle No More related strike would delay the trip. The Mohawk activists were occupying the tracks around Belleville and it was likely to last for several hours.

After a quick conversation with a fellow traveler, a Londoner via Montreal on her way to a friend's wedding in Hamilton, we hopped into a cab and sped to the airport. On the way, I booked two cheap tickets with Porter on my smart phone. Printing out the boarding pass using the self-served kiosk on arrival, we breezed through security and were aboard the 7 pm flight. No doubt her travel tale, including the quick-witted stranger, will enliven the reception.

Sadly, reality wasn't quite so easy. With my typical wishy-washiness, I wasted 20 minutes second-guessing my options. By the time we left at 6, fearing we would miss final boarding, we decided to wait to buy physical tickets. With the lineup at the airport for an agent, the cheap tickets and the flight were gone. The next flight at 8 pm costed twice as much. I bit the bullet but she balked at the price. She eventually resigned herself to a similar flight with Air Canada. The good news was that hers was leaving on time. The bad news for me was that mine was delayed. I forgot from experience that Porter flights to Toronto in the evening will always be late as there is always some issue leaving the Halifax leg. We wished each other good luck and I settled down for the wait.

I wasn't airborne until 10. By that time, I was worried that the plane might miss the noise curfew and have to divert to Pearson or even the Hamilton airport. I got into a Toronto taxi close to 11:30. At home, I found out that the situation back in Ottawa had resolved around 7:30. Ms. S_ still benefitted from her flight but I would have arrived in Toronto not much later if I had stayed put on the train. So it was a wash and I spent $300 unnecessarily.

Looking back bemusedly, what would have been a satisfying and enjoyable result (cheap and quick flight instead of waiting out an uncertain delay) fell apart due to my usual anxious reticence. Given similar precedents, and happening on almost the last day of the year, I think the universe is trying to teach me an important lesson for 2013.

Out With The Old

Spending time in Ottawa over the Holidays, I realized that the passage of time is deceiving. It doesn't seem like much has changed, until it becomes obvious a lot has. I got a lift from a high school friend back to my hometown. This was a bit reluctant on my part, as I had sworn off road trips after some disastrous voyages. No more being at the mercy of egoistical drivers!

But aside from having to jam my limbs into any available spot due to an excess of luggage, it was a pleasant trip. Eating junk food, listening to music, reminiscing about the good old days, the deepening twilight as a snow-covered Ottawa came into view, it was a blast from the past. This was a bit of faux nostalgia though, as we had never travelled together before.

Unlike recent brown winters, this was the Ottawa of yore, with hip-high snowbanks and trees laden with the fluffy white stuff. Christmas dinner with the whole clan had all the familiar food and decorations, my family was never one to throw out anything: even cheap plastic trees and ornaments. But it was a shock realizing my oldest cousin is now engaged and the youngest one is heading off to university next fall. When I left Ottawa, they were finishing high school and starting pre-kindergarden.

Boxing Day was at my brother's, as he fed the kinfolk and showed them his new house. My goofy younger sibling, whom my grandma feared was insufficiently serious, was now a proud dad and owner of a suburban home, complete with den and playroom.

My last dinner in Ottawa was at an old friend's, we had known each other since elementary school. He was utterly domesticated, with wife and child. This was no surprise, since I see him several times a year. But looking at his wall of Christmas cards, full of university friends I haven't stayed in touch with, in their Christmas finery alongside spouse and 1, 2 or even 3 offsprings, it didn't seem that long ago that we all were cramming for exams, whooping it up in the Byward Market bars, and full of future plans.

Christmas Tradition

Every ballet company puts on The Nutcracker at Christmas. For many, it is their most lucrative show and is essential to their bottom-line. The National Ballet has its own version, created in 1995 by its then resident choreographer James Kudelka. I finally went to see it on Friday accompanied by a tiny dance enthusiast.

Unfortunately, I think 6 years old is still too young for a 2 hour show. She found it too long and was fidgety throughout the performance despite our excellent seats. I enjoyed the piece but also found it just on this side of dull. The staging and props were wonderful, from the large homey Victorian hearth, to the giant Christmas tree, to the gigantic golden Faberge egg wherein dwelt the Sugar Plum Fairy. The costumes were likewise magical: rat soldiers, unicorns, and snow fairies. Accompanied by the familiar score, it was a feast for eyes and ears.

But the choreography, perhaps keeping in mind the typical Nutcracker audience, was very classical, very traditional and very safe. As each set piece came: the Snow Queen, the Sugar Plum Fairy, The Dance of the Flowers, and so on, I admired their prettiness but not moved. I liked attempts to modernize the ethnic dances especially the Egyptian/Middle-East quartet who snaked and pulsed like mirror images come to life. Overall, it was sufficiently glamorous and thus befitting a well-loved tradition.

Come What May

Heading home from the Tegan and Sara concert, I got a tweet that Weezer cover band Sheezer was doing a set at the Monarch Tavern in Little Italy. Sure enough, they were rocking out at the Christmas party for local community choir Choir! Choir! Choir!. It was a short set so they played only the big hits such as Holiday and The Good Life. But the crowd was also up for B-side tunes like Susanne.

I then headed south to Dundas to The May, a new hipster joint that used to be a Vietnamese karaoke bar for a Silent Shout concert. But given a few people who didn't quite fit in and the Buddhist shrine on the wall, it may be only rented out for live music. The crowd skewed quite young, even more than usual.

Miss Elizabeth came out, now down to a duo. They played plaintive synth pop with lots of alto singing and sustained chords and reverbs. The drum machine allowed them to add unusual syncopated drumming that kept the songs moving. It was reasonably danceable music, but only a few took up the challenge.

Majical Cloudz was another duo that played trance-y synth. The shaven-headed singer reminded me strongly of Michael Stipe not only for his emotive singing, but tendency to gesticulate and move his whole body. The music was directly from another bald singer, Sinead O'Connor circa Nothing Compares 2 U: bleak, emotional lyrics backed by long, slow synth chords.

It was getting late for Moon King, a collaboration between 2 members of defunct Spiral Beach. I will have to catch their take on synth music another time.

Eclectic Circus

Twins Tegan and Sara were scheduled to open for the Killers at the ACC on Saturday. Because of a late cancellation, they switched to a last-minute headlining show at The Phoenix . Despite the sudden change, the show sold out within the hour. Not surprising, as these indie singers have long graduated from medium-size venues.

The club was divided in half by a metal barrier: all ages at the front, drunkards at the back. Without an opening act, Tegan and Sara came out early to raucous cheers. Though they might be identified with angsty pop, only Nineteen, Call It Off, and Not Tonight kept that wistfulness. With a full band, all their songs were punchier and more propulsive: Back In Your Head, Alligator, even Walking With A Ghost. It was practically a dance party as they debuted dancier tracks from their upcoming album: I'm Not Your Hero, I Was a Fool, the despairing Now I'm All Messed Up, and the steamy Closer. With the inclusion of their dance collaborations such as Feel It In My Bones and Bodyworks in full thump-thump-thump arrangement instead of their usual stripped-down acoustic takes, it was a full on hands-in-the-air party for the fans.

There was also the trademark banter as they thanked the fans for their support, talked about highs and lows, and told good and bad on-the-road stories. For Tegan and Sara fans, it was a rare opportunity to savour their music in a relatively intimate setting.

Set list: I'm Not Your Hero, Back In Your Head, The Con, Walking With a Ghost, Hell, So Jealous, Where Does The Good Go, I Was a Fool, Now I'm All Messed Up, Nineteen, Arrow, Alligator, Feel It In My Bones, Closer.

Encore: Call It Off, Not Tonight (mashup with Springsteen's I'm on Fire), Living Room, Bodyworks.

Holiday Eats

With the Holidays approaching, there have been many communal meals including two pot-luck on Friday and extended lunches. A recent one was an outstanding dim sum meal at Grand Chinese Cuisine, located in the Double Tree Hotel in Mississauga. I haven't tried the high-end dim sum places such as Lai Wa Heen but this was the best dim sum I've had. Each plate had perfectly prepared bite-size offerings: the fried stuff was crispy but not soaking in oil, the steamed dishes were toothsome, the stuffing were uniformly generous with high quality ingredients. I was most impressed with the care in the presentation. Sadly, the numerous photos of the 15 or so dishes were accidentally erased.

For lunch on Friday, we had the annual Company pot-luck. By coincidence, it was almost meat-free with an assortment of samosas, avocado salad, noodles, Japanese veggie curry, and desserts. I was most impressed with the home-made aloo tikkas (potato patties): small medallions stuffed with potatoes and spices. It was baked not fried, making it lighter than most restaurant Indian dishes. I have never had it elsewhere and was able to wrangle some to take home with me.

But the patties will have to wait because it was off to another yoga pot-luck after work. Fresh guacamole and corn chips made great appetizers. My offering of smaller Ethiopian samosas from African Palace went over like gang-busters. Latkes, light on the butter, went great with sour cream and apple sauce. A winter stew of kale, potatoes, beans, ginger, and other veggies made for a delicious main alongside some mulled wine simmered in cardamom and star anise . Although full, I made room for some excellent freshly made coconut macaroons and nanaimo bars.

Have A Nice Day

Wednesday night at the Berkeley Street Theatre, I went to see a puppet show by Old Trout Puppet Workshop called Ignorance. Dominated by an arch of giant bones with stretched canvas between the curves and a large bonfire, 3 performers dressed in long johns and a jutting horn switched back and forth between two eras: our modern world and a paleolithic Adam and Eve living inside a cavern trying to make sense of a scary world.

A narrator, who throughout the play mused about neurochemistry, brain function, and human qualities, posed the overarching question: Why are we usually not happy? Would we be happier living in a more primitive, less "complex" state? The modern humans, a group of puppet men and women with jowly faces, which can in turn be a fresh-faced child, a middle-age everyman, or a wizen retiree, didn't seem to be. Their puppet bodies, with hands and feet by the actors, shuffled through unsastifying lives. Their pursuit of happiness, represented by a yellow smiley balloon, often ended in gruesome but hilarious deaths. The ancient humans, composed of more found object parts: stones for faces, sticks for hands, didn't have much luck either; they fought over scarce resources and were bewildered by an incomprehensible and hostile world.

The show fared best with the imaginative puppets and props, each having the look of a well-loved and used creation. The humour was slapstick but fun: the unintelligible humming of Eve morphed into My Heart Will Go On, a Charlie Chaplin-esque turn on a factory floor, a drawn-out battle with a wooly mammoth. It was obvious the performers had a blast inhabiting their roles. The pseudo-scientific attempt at profundity by the voice-over didn't click and the glib wisdom ("be happy because you're special") was eye-rolling. Watching this show at its zaniest fun the clear conclusion should have been: we are happiest when we are creative and playful.

That's What She Said

Baeckeoffe

It hasn't been a cold winter, but with a slight nip in the air, I decided to head to Baldwin street to Elle M'a Dit for some Alsatian fare. For appetizers, I got the tarte flambee House smoked trout ($12). On slices of very thin, almost cracker-like, baked dough, there were mildly flavoured smoked trout, fennel confit, preserved lemon, and dill. I liked that the trout was not overpowering and the fennel and dill added a herbal touch. I would have preferred more tartness from the lemon.

The french onion soup ($9) was classic: gooey cheese, thick, broth-soaked bread, and flavourful soup. But like most restaurants, the portion was simply too large. I was almost full by the time I finished. For the main dish, I ordered Baeckeoffe ($19), an Alsatian meat casserole. The combination of beef, lamb, and pork was delicious. But there was less than expected, with the bulk of the dish comprising of potatoes slices. These had a tangy after-taste that wore out its welcome after a few bites. Overall, a disappointing dish.

Smoked Trout Tarte Flambee

French Onion Soup

Can-Rock

Amos The Transparent

For AudioBlood Media's 4th anniversary on Friday, 4 bands played at Sneaky Dee's. Coincidentally, they were from different parts of Canada, and were not just local Toronto bands. Acres of Lion was up first. These Victoria B.C. boys played straight up rock: not quite jock rock but not esoteric indie. The lead singer really tried to engage the early crowd. Combined with tra-la-la refrains, they are positioned to attract the extroverts.

Secret Connection came from St. John's Newfoundland. The on-the-road version of the band was a trio of excitable guys. Their indie-pop songs often descended into sonically noisy outro full of feedback and guitar chords. The biggest crowd of the night came to hear Ottawa's Amos The Transparent. Comprising of 7 members plus a guest trumpetist, they played pleasing pop full of cello lines, tinkling piano, and lots of anthemic choruses. Their exhortation for crowd participation was gladly met by bearded dudes in flannel shirts who sung along to every song. Their set ended on a bittersweet note when, prior to the final song, Mark Hyne revealed that it would probably the last time that Greater Than Consequence will be played live. He was leaving the band after 7 years.

Toronto's Hands and Teeth closed out the evening with catchy pop tunes full of multi-part harmonies and members exchanging lyrics. They debuted 5 new songs off their upcoming album before delving into older tunes. By this time, some in the audience were highly inebriated. Though most stood swaying in a dazed stupor before wandering off, one drunk male climbed up on the bass speakers to dance awkwardly. Finally, on Help Me, after Natasha Pasternak mimed a rifle shot with her guitar, lanky Jeffrey Pinto leapt from behind his keyboards and ran the obnoxious sot off the stage. But the good fellowship vibe was restored when members of the audience were invited on stage to sing along to a cover of With A Little Help From My Friends.

In The Land of the Lounge Lizards

On a quiet Sunday night, Gentleman Reg had his CD release at the Gladstone Hotel. As he wryly noted, a number of his friends begged out because of headaches or work Monday morning. But 30 or so people were there in the Ballroom for some up-tempo music.

Chinawoman was up first. A Toronto transplant to Berlin, she switched instruments depending on the songs. They all had a cabaret feel, sharing a weary and jaded viewpoint of the world. Party Girl, despite its title,  was any but uplifting or joyful. It was fitting music for the end of the week. In contrast, Army Girls never plays anything slow. So singer-guitarist Carmen Elle and drummer Andy Smith started with the riffy Always and got progressively more manic including on the new song No One Misses You (But I Do). At one point, they had to stop abruptly at the bridge because she had ripped out her guitar cable.

Gentleman Reg came on stage with a new band set-up including Kelly McMichael (Rouge) on synth and vocals and Terra Lightfoot (The Pining) on bass. He played songs from his new album Leisure Life such as Waiting Around For Gold and Make It Better. He also pulled from his catalogue dancey tunes like We're In a Thunderstorm and The Boyfriend Song. His live performance was more visceral (and danceable) than the recordings. There were only a few quiet songs including the sad The Declaration and a slow, sweet duet with Kelly on Sheryl Crow's If It Makes You Happy.

Fight For Your Right

Saturday night, the Canadian Civil Liberties Association held a benefit to raise awareness about the erosion of civil rights in Canada. CBC radio host Vish Khanna was the affable host for the evening. Veteran agitator Judy Rebick spoke passionately about continuing to fight for our rights, especially in the face of all the state abuses from the G20 summit here in Toronto. She might have gotten a few people interested, but I feel her words fell on mostly apathetic ears.

Dwayne Morgan started the evening with some rapid-fire spoken word poetry, primarily dealing with broken homes, absentee fathers, poverty, and 'living while black'. Treading close to rap, they were edgy and uncomfortable to the mostly white privileged audience but his slick, practiced delivery undermined their rawness to some extent. To lighten the mood, 3 dancers (Mitzy C, Karen the Belly Dancer, and Tanya Cheex) from The Great Canadian Burlesque came on to dance and tease. The larger stage gave them a chance to wield their entire arsenal including veils, boas, and feathered fans. Inspired by their performance, Toronto's poet laureate George Elliott Clarke stuck to sex-drenched poems from his books Red and Black.

The musical portion of the evening started with Maloo, Maylee Todd's chill electronica alter ego. Accompanied by two dancers, she played multi-layered musings backed by bloops and beeps. MINOTAURS came on stage, 9-strong including a 3 horn section. They played exclusively protest and social issues songs such as the the G20-inspired Open The Doors from their upcoming album. With poly-rhythmic beats and funky horns and synth, they seemed a wonderful nod to the funk bands of the 70s: musical and socially aware. Nathan Lawr, who organized the evening, was joined on stage by Sarah Harmer, noted singer-activist, and Ohbijou's Casey Mecija for two numbers.

The head-liner was Ohbijou, an Arcade Fire-esque band that often build a sparse song into an anthemic number. Though they did sing love-lorn songs including the pitiful Barking At Your Door, they also had social issues tunes such as Balikbayan, an ode to all the Filipino caregivers who leave their children behind to care for other people's kids. Before a raging encore, in which Casey had bleeding fingers from ripping out the guitar chords, cellist Anissa Hart and pianist Ryan Carley played the Game of Thrones theme as a dare. To the amazing of both the other band members and the audience, a few tentative bars turned into a full song.

This Little Veggie

Although not a vegetarian, the last few days I've been eating mostly vegetarian dishes. Home-cooked food is delicious, even more so when you don't have to do the cooking. On Thursday, before my aerobics dance party, I dropped by a friend for some veggie pasta. The vegetables and onions were soft and tender, and the spaghetti was perfectly al dente. The very generous oil added to the dish really made it go down easy.

Friday night, I attended a vegetarian shabbat. There were freshly baked challah, an arugula and roasted nut salad, a couscous vegetable stew, and coffee truffles and apple crumble for the dessert. They were all tasty but the stand-out was the couscous dish aided by two strong flavours: soft and tender whole small onions, and bursts of zests from tiny slices of preserved lemons. The addition of home-made harissa, Tunisian spicy sauce, gave a nice punch to the mix.

On Sunday, my yoga class had a Holiday potluck after the morning practice. I'm not usually a fan of potluck, too many incompatible dishes, but because of the restriction to vegan or vegetarian options, this gave the meal more cohesion. It was a generous spread of 15 or so offerings: broccoli salad, roasted red peppers, quinoa, guacamole, bean dip, scones, cheese platter, fried noodles, melon salsa, samosas, and a large array of desserts: brownies, coconut cookies, tarts, pies, etc. There was also some mini lobster tarts for those of us who weren't vegetarian. We all stuffed ourselves silly. I waddled home for an afternoon nap, with a doggie container overflowing with leftovers.

Let's Get Physical

Surrounded by new condos and townhouses, the warehouse at 35 Strachan in the King St area is the last hold-out. It too is destined to be turned into a new development soon. In the mean time, it houses a number of businesses including prop storage for the Clay and Paper Theatre. Thursday night, Maylee Todd took over that space to hold an under-the-radar party for the video release of her new single Baby's Got It.

Looming over the party goers were giant puppets from Clay and Paper. Someone had hung 2 wooden swings from ceiling pipes. In one corner, multi-coloured vaginas were being sewn from felt as merchandise. Men channeled their inner 1985 dude in day-glo t-shirts and shorts, even if they weren't even alive back then. Women mostly went with tight peek-a-boo clothes.  In a large circle of whooping people, dancers strutted their stuff: hip-hop, 80s retro, 70s disco, and even glowing juggling balls.

Maylee eventually started Sweatshop Hop, an old dance/aerobics session that she used to lead, inspired by her collection of aerobics vinyls. Everybody gathered to stretch and dance to her instructions. However, it was clear that Maylee wasn't your typical GoodLife Fitness instructor. Squats became "Shitting in the Woods" and arm workouts turned into "Punch Tall Guy in the Crotch". She simply started making up moves including The Leg Hump. Then everything got sexy: sexy hamstring stretches, sexy splits, sexy bicycle kicks accompanied by mood-setting moans and suggestions.

It was appropriate, then, that when her video debuted it was also sexy: bright red lipsticks, flirtatious posing, and Madonna-esque dancing. A good chunk of people left afterwards, but the rest remained to dance to more music being spun by Circle Research.

Any Given Saturday

The day before the 100th Grey Cup, I went down to City Hall to check out one of the many activities geared toward all the football fans coming into Toronto. It was a sunny but blustery day so I wasn't up for riding the zip-line from City Hall down to Queen Street. But it was fun watching people fly by 700 feet in the air.

The Calgary Grey Cup Committee was serving pancake breakfasts to a long but brisk line-up. I was actually watching High Steppin Daddy sing some country music up on stage when an organizer thought I was waiting in line. So I found myself receiving some pancake and sausage after only a 2-minute shuffle.

I then signed up for the Canadian Forces obstacle course. The flak jacket and helmet added extra weight and stiffness to the challenge. Sadly, over the 30 minutes that I hung around that festivity, I was the only who tripped and fell on the tires. On the other hand, I was one of the few who were able to quickly finish my push-ups and chin-ups. No women could do the chin-ups without assistance, and many of the men struggled too. But it was probably my slight size and weight, which required much less strength, than any boot-camp fitness on my part.


Since that insubstantial breakfast wasn't enough, I headed over to Coconut Grove Roti for an outstanding Dal Puri roti and came home loaded with various tchotchke.

Movember Rain

Cover band Dwayne Gretzky has a 4 week residency at The Dakota Tavern this month. As part of Movember, both them and their fans have grown increasingly hirsute. I dropped by Wednesday day for some singing action.

Opener Danielle Duval was a tiny compact guitarist. Backed by her band, including Gretzky's bassist, she played a driving, power pop reminiscent of Katrina and The Waves on numbers like Ambulance and Imposter. Among the toes tapping for her music were those of TV anchor Peter Mansbridge.

But he didn't stay for Dwayne Gretzky's set, which started off a little shaggy. Even perenially favourite Let Me Roll It devolved into a discordant set of solos. But the early missteps gave way to crowd sing-alongs including Psycho Killer, Blinded By The Light, and Under Pressure. Allie Hughes is taking more lead turns. Along with her usual take on Be My Baby, she cooed her way through The Cardigans' Love Fool and let loose her big pipes on Pat Benatar's Heartbreaker.

Non-Mellow Cello

At the 654th Sunday concert at Hart House, cellist Brian Yoon and pianist Eliza Ching presented a series of cello and piano pieces. 25-year-old Brian is an accomplished cellist who is currently the principal cellist with the Victoria Symphony.

But if the silver-haired set was expecting Yo-Yo Ma's sweet tones and Bach's cello suites, they were in for a surprise. The program was aggressively modern; the oldest piece was Poulenc's Op 143 composed in 1948. They started out with String Theory (2012) full of string effects and strange dissonance with no easy musicality. No wonder as it was the test piece for the 2012 Eckhart-Gramatte Music Composition. Luckily, the follow-up was Poulenc's Sonata with four lyrical movements.

After the intermission, they played Elizabeth Raum's Prayer and Dance of Praise (1997): a modern piece that nevertheless had accessible passages and melodies. Finally, both Vincent Ho's Stigmata (2004) and Gary Kulesha's ... and dark time flowed by her like a river ... (1993) were full of violent feeling and atonal sounds.

Eliza made an engaging accompanist for the manic Brian. The latter reveled in applying a wide variety of techniques: vibrato, glissando, plucked strings, chords, and tinny almost attenuated sounds from his cello. But he also played the warm, enveloping, and dulcet tones that are more typical of this instrument.

Man As Beast

On Saturday night, Montreal RUBBERBANDance group returned to Toronto for a full-length 70-minute work called Gravity of Center featuring their dynamic and athletic combination of contemporary dance and hip-hop/break-dancing.

A light rose up on the stage to finally reveal a group of 3 men and two women who moved en masse along the diagonals. Their movement was ape-like: often dropping down on all fours to lumber forward, sniffing the air in front of them. They would often return to this configuration during the show. This primitive behaviour would play out in other ways: group cohesion versus individual desires, expulsion of weak-willed members, fighting over status or affection. A firm story-line can be welcomed in the often abstruse world of narrative-less modern dance, but this story was a little too on-the-nose. The telegraphed and predictable plot was the weakest part of the repertoire.

But their dancing was as strong and interesting as ever. Though the hip-hop elements were usually subsumed into contemporary dance as quick movements, there were occasions when they came boldly to the fore with wonderful impact. The slide and freeze of locking was used to signal different members arriving at a group consensus as their movements became more and more synchronized. The effect was mesmerizing and occasionally chilling. When the group leader faced off against his rival, their flips, kicks, and tumbles portrayed brutal violence in the most visceral way I've seen on stage. Unlike Broadway's West Side Story or classical ballet's Romeo and Juliet, you didn't have to squint much to see the realism of actual combat.

There was their trademarked group manipulation: dancers were often connected hand-to-foot, arm-to-arm, and every other combination. But I was also struck by segments that "rejected" this close touching: a female dancer who slipped and twisted away from the grasping embraces of her peers; a male performer who seduced his target by moving, but not touching, her body with the nearness of his hand; and various dancers who grabbed their own limbs or clothing to manipulate their own body.

Mo Money Mo Pork Buns

David Chang finally opened a Momofoku in Toronto. A 4-in-1 location, with the prices climbing as you ascend (litteral) the different restaurants. Saturday night, I opted for the "lowest" level, the buzzing Noodle Bar on the ground floor.

All the decorations were various shades of minimalist, Eastern beige with elevated bar counters surrounding a set of communal table. But no matter where you sit, you'll be sharing with other diners so get comfortable. The music got progressively louder as the evening progressed but oldies like Guns N Roses Don't Cry should be mercifully ignored.

For appetizers, I ordered the famous pork buns ($10) and the shiitake buns ($8). Both were the outstanding dishes for the evening. The cucumber added some nice crunch and the hoisin gave everything a slight sweetness. The shiitake mushrooms were earthy while the pork belly was deliciously fatty. If you wanted a spicier kick, the house chili sauce can be squeezed on top. The sweetness of bun has been toned down from its traditional chinese inspiration.

For mains, it was chicken & eggs ($15): a bowl of rice topped with artfully sliced cucumber, scallions, a runny egg, and smoked chicken. The chicken was excellent, crispy and flavourful. But the rest of the dish resembled an anemic bi bim bap; not bad but not worth fifteen dollars. The hanger steak ($18) came pre-spliced topped with brown butter and accompanied by fingerling potatoes. Though temptingly red and meaty, the too sweet miso marinade was a disservice to the steak.

Finally for desserts, it was two jars filled with lemon curd ($7) and rice pudding ($6). They were fine for a spoonful or two but in the end were respectively too sour and too sweet. The lemon curd had a lighter texture which was kinder to a full stomach.

Take Good Care

Thursday night, the Garrison turned into a romper room with head-liner Fred Penner, a well-known children's entertainer. But before the room full of 20-somethings got to experience Fred Penner's Place live, Inlet Sound played a few tunes.

Originally from Montreal and now settled in Toronto, this 5 member band played a mix of pop and folk. With plinking pianos, a small 8-string electric mandolin, and a violin, there was a rural feel to their music. Accompanied by the soaring vocals of violinist Steven Gore and the sweet harmonies of drummer Kate MacClean, Michael Wexler crafted songs with clever and evocative lyrics. They dedicated their closing song, a cover of Bittersweet Symphony, to Fred Penner.

After their set, something unusual took place at the Garrison. People were actually crowding up right against the stage. To cheers, Fred Penner came on with his back-up vocal, daughter Hailey, and his friend John on the trumpet. Although he joked "Pay attention!" (an homage to Scar from The Lion King) throughout the show to the noisy crowd, he had everyone in his palm: clapping, singing along, engaging in silly hand gestures.

With every song, he told a little anecdote about its inspiration: Proud came about from his daughter's first no-training-wheels ride; Celebrate Being was a tribute to his Down sister and other special needs people; and Filling The Void came from a Vancouver songwriter's workshop. Though he specialized in children's song such as Happy Feet, Take Good Care of Each Other, House is a House For Me, and Sandwiches, he also led the happy crowd with more "grown-up" songs such as This Little Light of Mine and his take on a Hank Williams-style hurtin' song. He embellished his big hit The Cat Came Back with segues to other songs (Hit The Road, "Cat") and a Careless Whisper sax solo.

Everyone was grinning ear-to-ear including Michael, Kate, and Inlet Sound bassist Curtis Murphy, as they accompanied Fred for about the last 3rd of his set. It was the most abashedly fun I've had in a while. Despite the late hour and drinking, no one treated the evening with ironic amusement or snark. As for Fred Penner himself, he was always upbeat and charming, although there was a gentle dig at Toronto's buffoon mayor Rob Ford. For his encore, he did have a serious moment. Referencing the current strife in Israel/Palestine, he ended the night singing with the crowd to Bob Dylan's Blowin In The Wind.

Mother Roti

On Saturday, I went to see Dal Puri Diaspora at the Reel Asian Film Festival. Trinidad-Canadian director Richard Fung started this production when during his stay in Calcutta he realized that the double-ply, ground split pea-stuffed dal puri roti of his native Trinidad was nowhere to be found. Was this a Trinidadian invention with no Indian roots?

A sold-out house at the Royal, comprising of large number of Caribbean-Canadians, was treated to a delicious exploration of this search. It was no surprise that the Trini rotis: dal puri and bussupshut (paratha roti) originated from the Indians who came to Trinidad-Tobego as indentured workers about 100 years ago. But the origin story of the dal puri roti wrap, that it was made for field hands, was likely false. Prior to roti shops, it was simply too time-consuming to make and would have been reserved for special occasions such as weddings and temple feasts. It was also industrialization, specifically the commercial pre-made spice mixes, that standardized a common palate for this "home-cooked" taste.

From the ship records and interviews with experts, Fung discovered that Indo-Caribbeans came mostly from the Eastern provinces of India such at Uttar Pradesh and Bihar. It was there that he found dishes in common including dosti roti: two rotis made and cooked together, but separated when served to represent a shared friendship between the diners. In a small village outside of Patna, he finally found a family willing to make dal puri, as it remains a dish prepared at home.

Was it the same? Not quite. The atta flour, made from durum, gave it a different taste from the white flour used in Trinidad. Deep-fried and lacking baking powder, it was also less fluffy. So it might have had roots here, but the Trini roti was in fact a product of his native soil, using the local ingredients.

The film did not just trace the history of the roti, but also the history of South Asians in the Caribbean: how they came, and how they have evolved. As many of them wryly admitted: the food in India didn't taste like "their" food. After 100 years, they were Trinidadians; and so were the East Asians, Africans, and white folks in the documentary. But for all the historical background, it was the visits to all the expert roti vendors that kept you engaged (and hungry).

The roti itself was also evolving. There was now pepper roti back in Trinidad: potatoes, scotch pepper, and grated cheese stuffing, served in slices like pizza. On this trip, Fung found a "Caribbean roti shop" in Calcutta, whose Indo-Caribbean owner arrived via Surinam and the Netherlands. Here in Toronto, most would associated the thicker naan-like shells with roti instead of the thinner dal puri.

The documentary ended with an amusing segment where Fung decided to finally try his hands (and failing miserably) at making roti at home, the relatively simple sada roti meant for breakfast. Throughout the film, the audience drooled over all the tasty cooking and laughed knowingly at the slangs and patois. Most would later head over to the Monarch Tavern for special feast called Rum and Roti.

Since I didn't have a ticket for this after-party, I went to Pam's Kitchen for a goat dal puri roti. It was good but not great. The shell was soft and tasty, but there wasn't enough ground split peas to give it that distinct nutty taste.

Lady Is a Tramp

On Friday, The Bovine Sex Club had a Rock and Roll Burlesque show organized by Vamps Like Us. This tiny bar on Queen is painted almost entirely in black, plastered with band stickers on walls, and have various unidentifiable objects secreted into the chainlink wire mesh hung from its ceiling.

Laura Desiree, a tall Betty Page in a leather corset was the MC. But before she introduced the other girls to shake their money-makers on the tiny red stage, she also did a number herself. Afterward, a procession of burlesque dancers with names like Faye Tality, Dolly Berlin, Fionna Flauntit and Rouge La Rouge shimmied on stage to songs like Helter Skelter and Foxy Lady. Though some stuck with typical glamourous 40s style costumes, most went more bad girls with black tees and sneers. But a tight corset and garters were de rigueur. There was even one male burlesque, dancing to Hot for Teacher, to the delight of the female members. But the suburban bros from a bachelor party who had wandered in earlier were comically flustered at his performance.

All the elements were there for a great time, but the end result fizzled for me. The stage was simply too small for the dancers and their burlesque moves didn't fit well with this type of music. Speaking of which, this was the biggest downer. The anemic speakers only punctuated the fact that these songs, no matter how great they may be, have long passed into golden oldies status. And there's nothing more deflating than reminders of senescence.

Martha Living

Thursday night, Martha Wainwright ended her tour for Come Home To Mama with a show at the Great Hall. Opening were two band-mates, Ariel Engle and Andrew Whiteman (Broken Social Scene), who also have a guitar-heavy duo act called AroarA. Accompanied by a drum machine, the two singer/guitarists traded licks, chords, and verses over songs that had numeric titles such as No. 1 and No. 5. The styles ranged from folk-pop, to indie spiritual, 80s dance, and sing rap. There was even one song with a monotone guitar drone reminiscent of traditional Ethiopian music. It was interesting music that deserves multiple listens.

Martha came on stage wearing salmon-pink denim and a "Rufus is a tit man" t-shirt. A well-seasoned pro, she connected with the audience by being by turn self-deprecating ("Next album is Martha Sings Other People's Better Songs"), teasing ("You came tonight to hear that one song? Well, you're gonna have to wait a little longer"), and philosophical ("I don't mind growing older. It'd be weird to get younger.") With a huge voice similar to her brother Rufus Wainwright, even Top 40 tunes like Radio Star sounded good. But her emotional singing and story-telling lyrics suited best folky numbers like Factory, torch songs such as I Am A Diamond (written by her late mother Kate McGarricle for an unproduced musical about notorious con-woman Cassie Chadwick), and mythic-sounding tunes including Proserpina. No wonder that for her encore she did Edith Piaf's Soudain Une Vallée.

There were a few chatterboxes who had to be hushed for the quieter numbers. But the rest ate up every word, whether it was quietly crooned or majestically soared. And yes, that fan finally got his song (Bloody Motherfucking Asshole) during the encore as the last song of the night. But I'm sure he wasn't unhappy with the wait.

Hallelujah

I went to The Garrison Wednesday night for an installment of Wavelength, the long-running music series. First up was instrumental psychedelic rock outfit The Riderless. Playing extended songs (their entire set consisted of 2 tunes) full of repeating arpeggios and scales, atmospheric chords and synth, this music can be hypnotic. But for all their experimentalism, the reliance on the typical rock vocabulary made it ultimately tedious music.

Next was Fiver, a side project of alt-country One Hundred Dollars' singer Simone Schmidt. Unlike her pseudo solo turn with Evening Hymn, she was backed by a full band tonight (her newest country band The Highest Order is my guess). It was lusher, almost danceable, with a touch of country. But the lyrics to songs like Calm and Collected were too weary and resigned to prompt much bopping (though some tried.) To that end, she debuted a bluesy number where she roamed the stage, sounding like a modern Peggy Lee.

From Montreal, The Luyas came to play in support of their new album Animator. Backed by slide guitar, synth, effects, and an occasional tuba or french horn, guitarist/singer Jessie Stein sang in a high girly voice. Instead of the typical 4/4, they played a variety of odd time signatures anchored by a very impressive drummer: precise and accomplished. This gave their music both a propulsive strangeness and a welcoming invitation. This was music you could dance too, and yet introduced you to unusual sounds and rhythms.

Monster Bash

I headed to Tecumseth, a side street in the Bathurst and Adelaide area, for brunch on Saturday. Beast restaurant is a converted house, surrounded by newer developments. The meal started with a $5 caesar, only because I recently read that this was a Canadian invention. It has been years since I drank this salty alcoholic concoction. The version at Beast came with a single pickled green bean.

Maple-Bacon doughnut

Kalbi short rib with eggs

Though this restaurant is known for its meats, it also has a reputation for fresh doughnuts, too. Rachelle Caldwell (wife of Beast's owner) actually runs a pop-up doughnut shop out the backdoor of Beast. Luckily, they were also available for brunch so there was no need for me to sneak a bite. I got the maple-bacon doughnuts (2 for $5). It came piled with bacon shavings which made it wonderfully smokey and savoury. The dough was soft and not too heavy. Unfortunately, it was a bit too sweet for my palate which diluted a little of the tasty saltiness.

Bloody Caesar

For the main, I ordered Kalbi short ribs ($12). A substantial portion of Korean-style grilled beef came out. It was flavourful, had just the right amount of fattiness, and yielded nicely in the mouth. The potatoes and toast were average: starchy and full, and needed a dash of herbs and spices. The eggs were reasonable except that one of the yolk had bursted, resulting in a cooked center. This is a no-no for over-easy eggs. A minor point but some restaurants would have made another one.

Chicks With Picks

The line-up for the 3rd annual Sheezer Halloween bash Friday at Lee's Palace was all women. This should motivate the young girls attending Toronto's iteration of Girls Rock Camp.

The first band of the night, Pins and Needles, was formed at this year's camp. Given a slightly shaky performance in an online video, I had set my expectations low for this troupe of 14-year-old girls. But aside from the occasional obvious cueing and sync-up, they were good: playing standard pop with a harder edge and some middle eastern influences. Their biggest asset were 3 fine vocalists, with the bassist having the most assured voice.

Next up was Planet Creature who resembled Stepford Wife robots in their costume of preppy grey skirts, blonde bob wigs, and eerie white-blue contacts. With two singers of different sensibilities, they alternated between indie pop and a faster punk-pop. I preferred the harder hitting tunes which seemed fresher and more vital.

Though they cover Weezer (Blue and Pinkerton only), the Sheezer ladies do not wear plaid for their Halloween shows. Previous years included Sailor Scouts and Spice Girls. With Magali being a new mother, they were now a 4-piece. The capacity crowd gave a loud cheer when they bounded on stage in full KISS make-up and costume. For the hour-long set and a 3-song encore, they played all the hits for the sing-a-long audience: My Name Is Jonas, Surf Wax USA, Buddy Holly, El Scorcho, and many more.

Each performer acted differently on stage. Alysa tended to be serious on her lead guitar. Robin was happy and often smiling. Laura was cheerful and a big ham: deploying her bat wings, striking rock poses, even some Gene Simmons tongue wagging. Dana was the anchor of the band. Her intense drumming kept things rocking. Appropriately enough for all the aging Weezer fans, they closed out their set with The Good Life with its plaintive, ironic chorus: "I don't wanna be an old man anymore."

Wham Bam

I dropped by the Comedy Bar Thursday night to see Maria Bamford as part of Dark Comedy Festival. Although there were some funny moments, neither Ms. Bamford nor her openers really connected with the audience tonight.

Rhiannon Archer was the MC for the evening. She did a few run-of-the-mill topical jokes such as having a new boyfriend over or that "misogynist" sounds rather pleasant (i.e., like "massage"). Mark Debonis told stories about Marcello his "dumb friend" and life in Scarborough. Finally, Bobby Canoeuf also talked about relationships ("Take fight pictures so you don't just look over old happy photos and wondered what went wrong") and weird cat behaviour.

Maria Bamford specialized in two things: neurotic observations and funny voices. To that end, she talked in a stream-of-consciousness way, jumping from topic to topic but always returning to not only neuroses but sometimes even mental illness (on schizophrenia vs. her own bi-polar disorder: "I make voices, I don't hear them"). She evoked funny mimicry of her "Life Coach" sister, passive-aggressive mother, cynical father, and various Angelenos friends and neighbours. There was even an extended dig at the culinary train-wreck that is Paula Deen. There were some sustained humorous moments but overall, the audience wasn't fully engaged.

Hello Goodbye

Bonjour, Tristesse was an Otto Preminger film from 1958 that was inspired by a book of the same name. It was being shown at a special screening of Hollywood classics at the TIFF Bell Lightbox Tuesday night. At first glance, the film had a conventional Hollywood feel for movies of that era: the fast banter, the mid-Atlantic accent, and the slight stagey acting when viewed with modern eyes. But the story was a little darker.

17-year-old Cecile (Jean Seberg) spends care-free days on the French Riviera with her libertine and louche father Raymond (David Niven) and his latest young conquest Elsa (Mylene Demongeot). She is a bit infatuated with him, and certainly his playboy lifestyle. Into their lives Anne (Deborah Kerr), an old friend of Raymond, enters. At first, Cecile was happy to have a new mother figure in her life, but she became increasingly rebellious as Anne tries to introduce structure into the young girl's life like studying and school. In the aftermath of a tragedy, father and daughter spend their days in Paris in a funk of ennui and wearied sadness.

Godard had declared this film a spiritual ancestor to the black-and-white Breathless, and no wonder as they both revolve around Jean Seberg and an idealized French identity. I thought Seberg was captivating in the latter at the age of 23. But at 18 and filmed in colour, she was painfully luminous in Tristesse. The rest of the movie talent on display was prodigious, and she was less skillful acting wise, but her physical beauty and delicate innocence outshone everyone else when she was onscreen. It's a beauty not seen in modern Hollywood. Equally part of an Edenic past were the sun-drenched seascape of the French Riviera and the bygone 60s of Paris.

Zombie Shuffle

It was the Saturday before Halloween, 12 local bands were set to perform 20 minute sets at Silver Dollar and Comfort Zone. These two venues usually have separate entrances, but since they share a common stairwell accessible from Silver Dollar, it was possible to combine them. The alternating format allowed for quick set-up, but it required patrons to move between venues from set to set. Since you couldn't bring your booze with you, there were a lot of chugging at the exits.

In the spirit of masquerade, not only were the patrons dressed up in costumes, but each band also covered another well-known band. This allowed both the performers and crowd to rock out to some favourite tunes leading to an unusual sight at most small Toronto venues: a packed floor, with people right up against the stage, dancing and moshing. There were other strange sights: the Bride of Frankenstein and princess Leia bopping to Nirvana (Rituals); members of Kiss nodding to Lou Reed (Cut Flowers); and even the Sugar Crisp Bear head-banging to Nine Inch Nails (Hellaluya).

The night gave me a chance to enjoy not just some good local outfits but "famous" bands that were both new to me. Notably, I quite liked not only local band Gay but their excellent cover of Orange Juice.

The bands: Misfits (Halloween), Orange Juice (Gay), Lou Reed (Cut Flowers), Nine Inch Nails (Hellaluya), The Cure (Mausoleum), Nirvana (Rituals), Bad Brains (S.H.I.T.), The Damned (Ell V Gore), The Monks (Young Mother/Blonde Elvis), The Germs (The Soupcans), Guns N Roses (Vag Halen), Marilyn Manson (Dentata/Tarantula X).

Little Piggie

It has been long line-ups outside new ramen shop, Sansotei, near Dundas and University. So I took advantage of a rainy Saturday (courtesy of hurricane Sandy) to finally sample its offerings. No wonder it was hard to get a spot, this tiny restaurant doesn't even have space for bar seatings. A long, narrow hall permitted a single row of communal tables and two small booths. Ship ropes hung from the ceiling and the floor-to-ceiling mirrors along the other wall gave the illusion of a larger space.

I ordered zangie ($4.5) and a tonkotsu shoyu ramen ($8.9) with an extra order of bean sprouts ($0.50). The former was perfectly fried chicken nuggets. Toothsome and tender inside and with just a slight just-right greasy crunch outside, it smelled wonderful coming out fresh from the kitchen. This was the signature dish even if their specialty is ramen.

The ramen bowl also had a heavenly aroma. The broth was rich but not too salty or fatty. The bamboo shoot offered a nice crunch while the soft-boiled egg yielded tender bites. The pork tasted different than Sansotei's competition; the combination of fatty cartilage and slightly grilled meat reminded me strongly of Vietnamese well-done beef found in pho. It was a great bowl of ramen, except for the noodles! Although they were tasty on the first few bites, they revealed themselves to be too soft and floury on subsequent chews. It was still a great main but the rather ordinary noodles meant that Sansotei isn't quite King Ramen in Toronto.

Zangie - deep fried chicken

Tonkotsu Shoyu - pork noodle bowl

Tin Ear

Local record company Do Right Music was celebrating their 10th year anniversary at The Great Hall Friday night. A bevy of live acts and DJs was scheduled to perform. There weren't any Halloween costumes seen, except on the excitable teens at the All-Ages party in the adjacent underground space.

The second half of the evening had the reunited Movement Collective (a crew of local DJs) and legendary English DJ Gilles Peterson spinning tracks for the masses. But in the first half, two Do Right artists took to the stage.

First up was fresh-faced The Slakadeliqs, a quartet in salmon-coloured sweater vests and bow-ties. As befitting their attire, they played harmony-rich 50s/60s pop mixed with sing-rap 2012 hip-hop. But their vocals were thin and underwhelming and the odd chord changes seemed a poor fit. It wasn't until their final number, a new song closer to the driving psychedelic rock of The Who or Led Zeppelin, that they were in their best element.

The live "head-liner" was Maylee Todd, looking North African in animal prints and an orange wrap. With her full band, she laid down the groove from the melancholic "Did Everything I Could" to the shake-your-ass "Hieroglyphics". Maylee kept the energy high throughout her set: singing amid the crowd, falling down in supplication, jiving across the stage. Tonight, she even had back-up dancers on several songs. This funky singer always had the moves, but watching her doing actual choreography was another level of fun. Could we be witnessing the birth of "May-donna" (especially on 80s-sounding "Break Your Back")?

Once Upon A Time

To celebrate the 200th anniversary of the Brothers Grimm fairy tale book, the Lillian H. Smith library has a special exhibit that runs until Dec. 8. Thursday night, Dr. Maria Tatar of Harvard, an expert on fairy tales, gave a talk entitled "Mythical and Magical".

The first part traced the evolution of the fairy tale, even prior to the 1812 published book, as evidenced in paintings, book covers, and movie posters. It started as story-telling in front of a hearth to a multi-generational audience; evolving to a grandmother/nanny entertaining her charges, often with a cautionary finger; to today's resurgence of fairy tales in films, TV, and books. The current fight is between the anaesthesized and infantile Disney versions versus the iconoclasts (e.g., Shrek) who attempt to bring back the original intents by subverting or parodying the tropes.

The second part concentrated on two female figures: Gretel and Briar Rose. Gretel, with her lies, deceipt, and cunning, embodied the familiar Trickster figure. In a way, she represented the growing awareness of children that you need wits to make your way in this hard world. Briar Rose (Sleeping Beauty)was the other face of perceived femininity: arousing yet passive, innocent but death-like. Dr. Tatar showed many illustrations that drew on this contradiction between "sarcophagus and seraglio".

The many illustrations and paintings shown were wonderful, as well as her discursive points and asides. The attempt to link fairy tales to its modern incarnations sometimes seemed force. It may make sense in an academic paper, but in a short layman's presentation the idea that Katniss (Hunger Games) was Gretel or that Ellen Page's Hard Candy was a take on Little Red Riding Hood was risible.

No Chicken Thursday

Thursday night was a good night to get some tacos from new spot Rebozos at College and Bathurst. It was the second location for this local eatery. Bright yellow paint with paintings and other Mexican knick knacks greeted me as I came through the door. The menu was small and to the point: tacos, quesadillas, pozole, etc. There were some additional items on the sandwich board.

I ordered a mix of 3 different tacos ($10 for 3) and a horchata ($2.50). The drink was sweet and had a nutty flavour. The cochinita pibil was tender, roasted pork shoulder cooked in annatto sauce. It simply melted in your mouth. The beef tongue was soft and had a slight fattiness whereas regular diced beef tends to get tough. The chorizo was also tasty, and lacked that saltiness of typical chorizo. The taco shells had a great chew and held up under the lemon squirt and chili sauces, the latter packing a nice heat.

This was a nice, cheap place to eat but sadly empty tonight. Compared to the mediocre restaurants that populate that stretch, I hope people will discover Rebozos soon.

Foul Play

A number of activities planned for Saturday fizzled. First, the local gaming festival GamerCamp, held a pop-up arcade (new games and old) at a local cafe to benefit charity. But upon arriving, there were no coin-operated machines in sight. There were some desktops showcasing locally produced games and I applaud these young developers and the burgeoning gaming development scene in Toronto. However LCD monitors and gamepads do not make up an "arcade". Gamer camp? More like lamer camp! (hyuk hyuk)

Later on, I mosied over to a small venue near College and Spadina for some electronic bands include Ark Analog. It was a long, bright space more akin to a club/lounge than the typical grungy band venue. There was a cage that surrounded the stage. This should prove interesting! But as the bands got ready, the owner and the promoter got into a heated altercation over the mandatory coat check-in. So everybody packed up and left. At least I got my cover back.

Hot Diggity

On Saturday, I went to Fancy Franks, a gourmet hot dog spot that just opened near College and Spadina. The place was pushing nostalgia hard with retro lettering and logo on the outside mural, black-and-white prints of the 50s-60s inside, and an oldie radio station playing over the speakers.

I ordered the Chi-Town Fancy ($6.75) with spicy sausage substitution ($1). This combination was stuffed with fresh tomato, pickle, relish, pickled peperoncini, mustard, and a dash of celery salt. Everything tasted fresh: a nice firm crunch to the pickles; clean chopped relish without the typical sliminess; and a strong flavour to the slightly loosely packed sausage. The only disappointment was that the sausage was insufficiently spicy for my taste buds.

In addition to the standard fries, there were also mini-burgers and mini-donuts for sale.

Bloorcourt Style

Originally heading to Uptown for some Korean noodles at Mot Na Sen on Friday, I was invited to sample some home-cooked Korean food instead. The dishes were familar from Korean restaurants, but there were a few surprises.

The mashed potato was made from sweet potato and was a little too sweet for me as a side-dish. The kalbi beef didn't have a slight smokiness from grilling, but it was tender and toothsome. The Korean maki made a nice appetizer, and was even better the next day. The fried korean pancakes were a bit bland and could have used some hot spices. My favourite dish was myulchi bokkeum, dried anchovies stir-fried with honey and walnuts. This version had tiny anchovies resembling plant roots. What a delicious combination of salty, fishy, and sweet. Add some pickled bean sprout and roasted peanuts, and it had a great mouth-feel. The other tasty food item was a sweet rice drink called Sikhye that contained pine nuts.

I also learned that to reheat leftover Korean maki without the dryness of microwaved food, coat the maki with beaten egg and pan fry the rolls.

The Big Sheep

At the Bluma Appel Theatre Thursday night, Electric Company presented a "multimedia" stage production called Tear The Curtain! Set in 1930 Vancouver, it used the conventions of film noire including a Girl Friday, a femme fatale, gruff newspaper editor, cynical journalists, and cagey mobsters to explore the competition between venerable theatre and the emerging upstart cinema.

Instead of being a gumshoe detective, Alex Braithwaite (Jonathon Young) was a theatre critic who lamented the "dumbing down" of audiences with the imminent arrival of talkies, or movies with sound. He accidentally ran into a man who resembled Stanley Lee (James Fagan Tait), a playwright long presumed dead, leading to an increasingly wild investigation into the stranger's identity. Meanwhile, theatre actress Mila Brook (Laura Mennell) was torn between the theatre and the newer "moving picture", as well as Patrick Dugan (Gerard Plunkett) and Max Plamponi (Tom McBeath), two mob bosses who were fighting a turf war over the construction of a new arts venue. Alex began to doubt his senses and sanity as he and his secretary Mavis (Dawn Petten) tried to solve the mystery of Stanley Lee and his connection with a shadowy 3rd group, with mysterious ties to Mila, who were also keenly interested in the new space.

The play transitioned between live theatre and the same actors acting out scenes on film. These were projected either on a front scrim or directly onto the set. Sometimes the actors acted or spoke the same lines along with the cinematic close-ups. The set, an outline of a building, was the inside of the newsroom, the homes of Dugan and Plamponi, and the exterior to Braithwaite's apartment. He was often seen on the second floor in his lit apartment, with the rest of the 2nd floor exterior being often lifted away, revealing a cutaway of the building's hallway where our "good guy" would received troubling calls on the shared phone.

The scrim and film clips allowed for a dizzying number of scene changes, unlike a typical play, and more reminiscent of a movie. Other movies were also seen including scenes from the mainstream Gillian Gish talkie "The Swan" and the avant-garde Le Sang d'un Poete by Jean Cocteau. From a technical viewpoint, Tear The Curtain! was spectacular.

As a play, it engaged intellect more than emotion, partly from its mystery-puzzle premise and partly from its philosophical arguments regarding art, memory, and the unconscious. Its implicit stance for the intimacy of live theatre, because we were in fact watching a play, was gently undermined by, as previously mentioned, the full embrace of the language of cinema in its art direction and plotting.

Being For The Benefit of Mr. Jensen

Aaron Jensen, artistic director of Sing! Toronto Vocal Arts Festival, held a benefit for the 2nd year of the festival at Lula Lounge. The Dundas St. W venue was thus filled with vocal geeks Monday night. In addition to the performances, there were also a raffle and a silent auction.

Retrocity amped up the energy performing I Feel For You, Synchronicity II, and Easy Lover in full 80s regalia. Suba Sankaran and Dylan Bell from that band also wowed as Freeplay Duo with layered vocal tracks on Sankofa, a Speak Softly Love/Tu Vuò Fà L'Americano/ Hit The Road Jack mash-up, Michael Jackson's Butterflies, and Owl City's Fireflies. Aaron Jensen, also of Retrocity, humorously led the crowd in a call-and-response involving increasingly hard imitations of musical instruments. Both Gavin Hope (The Nylons) and Michael Burgess showed off their powerful and nuanced voice on God Bless The Child and Anthem (Chess) respectively.

The rest of the night's entertainers included: Rob Missen (Come All You Bold Canadians) in winking honour of the 200th anniversary of the War of 1812, Patti Jannetta (Gin House Blues), Stacey Kay (People Get Ready), a capella group Countermeasure (Pure Imagination, Signed Sealed Delivered, D'Angelo's Spanish Joint) and Cadence (Hit That Jive Jack, Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego, Just A Gigolo).

Chilli-ng Out

After listening to dance-pop at Rancho, it was time for some late night nosh in Chinatown. I stopped just around the corner at College and Spadina, because despite the moniker "Canton Chilli", the restaurant promised chinese and indian. This variant of Chinese cooking, sometimes also known as Hakka, is sadly not much represented in downtown Toronto. So this late-night eatery looked promising.

A good choice it was, too. The deep fried jumbo shrimp with spicy salt ($12.95) were huge, perfectly tender and chewy, with a nice kick of spice. According to the waiter, these were imported from India, not China, so they were bigger than the other restos in the area. The chili chicken ($8.95) had a crunchy fried exterior and a soft toothsome interior. Finally, the moo shoo pork ($10.95) came with 8 thin pancakes. Add some sweet hoisin-based sauce and you have a wonderful wrap. This restaurant was a winner, though outside of chicken pakora I didn't see any typical Hakka dishes.

Chili Chicken

Spicy Shrimp (some already eaten in feeding frenzy)

Hipster Don't Lie

Upstairs at Rancho Relaxo on College St., a number of dance-pop bands were putting on a show Saturday night. Santah from Chicago made their Canadian debut at the early 9:45 slot. Their older songs had the typical indie sound and didn't make much of an impression. But numbers from their new EP had a groovy R&B feel driven by bass, drum, and synth. Combined with more prominent harmony from siblings Stanton and Vivian McConnell, songs like Springfield and Northcoast were a fun start to the evening.

Unfortunately, local band The Black Fever didn't fare as well. This trio also played tunes with a dance feel, but they didn't have enough layers to their music to give it some volume. Furthermore, the bare instrumentation didn't help the singer's thin reedy voice.

Savoir Adore from Brooklyn had much more success. The adobe-style dive had filled up with fans of this band. With backing tracks, and a propulsive drummer and bass guitarist, the crowd was dancing to the singing duo of Paul Hammer and Deidre Muro. They traded lyrics and harmonies on such numbers as Dreamers and Loveliest Creature. There were even choreographic arm movements from the entire band on 2 songs. If only this tiny venue had strobes and lights to complement their catchy music. By the time the guitars were harmonizing on closer Regalia, people were chanting for an encore.

Not Too Shabb-hy

With Indie week happening and numerous other bands playing Friday night,  I had planned on checking out at least one show. But after a delicious Shabbat dinner, I was stuffed to overfull and fell asleep after getting home. The appetizer was avocado dip. It was fresh and rich, but a bit under-salted. This would have been taking care of by the corn taco chips. But these were healthy, organic low-salt ones! Sometimes you need to eat a bit unhealthy for more flavour.

Dinner started with an apple challah. It was freshly baked but the apple slices made the interior slightly soggy. I went back for several tasty bites though my reaction cycled through "Ew ... wet ... yum ... apple" (and repeat). The vegetarian chile had surprisingly meaty content. This was achieve by bulking up the dish with bulgur, mushrooms, and grounded pecans. I got a second delicious helping. In retrospect, I should have passed on the second bowl and added those chips instead. For dessert, we had home-made pumpkin cheesecake. It was good but I'm not a big fan of cheesecake's denseness.

That's One Hot Momo

The Parkdale neighbourhood, in addition to the gentrification, has also seen an influx of Tibetan immigrants around the Queen and Jameson area. As such, Tibetan and Tibetan/Nepalese/Indian restaurants have been springing up. Sunday night, I went to check out Tibet Kitchen.

First to arrive was a traditional tea called Bhod-jha ($1.99). This took some getting used to: the butter made it an extremely muscular version of the Indian chai, and the salt left an odd aftertaste. The dairy taste was less overwhelming after the tea has cooled down. The gyuma ($5.99) appetizer was slices of beef sausage with a hint of spiciness. However, you can crank up the hotness by eating the bed of "green salad", which turns out to be chopped chili peppers. This is good beer-drinking food, but so-so as a dish.

Gyuma

Steamed chicken momo

I ordered the Tibetan specialty of steamed momo ($5.99), a variation on the pot-sticker. The chicken inside was well-chopped and chewy. The dough was soft, though some were a bit too rubbery at the corners. It came with a soya-sauce vinaigrette and hot sauce. Overall, a good dish though the fried version looked amazing too.

The mains batted .500. The Tsey Tofu ($8.99) was a gloopy mess. The oily sauce drowned the ingredients especially the firm tofu. But the Jasha Khatsa ($.8.99) was a stand-out: battered chicken sauteed in chili sauce. Crunchy on the outside, toothsome on the inside, with a nice kick of spice, it was a great dish.

Tsey Tofu

Jasha Khatsa

This was cheap, flavourful food but you need to pick the right dishes as they are hit and miss. Be forewarned that most dishes are spicy, so any aversion to heat probably means this cuisine is not for you.