Glad I'm Here Poutine

As I am an early riser, it was no effort for me to wake on Sunday to catch the Men's Hockey Game for the Olympic gold. When Crosby made it 2-0 on his break-away, it was clear that Canada was going to win. After my morning yoga class, I decided that the best way to celebrate was to eat the Canadian food invention that is the poutine. So I made my way to Smoke's Poutine at College and Shaw.

Though I added some extra mushrooms ($1.50), I opted for the traditional version ($5.99) instead of all the other choices including Montreal smoked meat and perogies. I haven't eaten this dish since my University days, though Smoke's kitschy décor and classic rock music did set the mood. I certainly hope it will be better than the soggy mess I used to get off the chip wagons on campus, which even nostalgia can't improve. The fries came out hot and reasonably crispy. The curd was thick and had good squeak. But there wasn't enough gravy to really soak the taters. Hmm, I guess I was hankering for that soggy mess after all. Now I'm wondering if I should do a Great Poutine Search (similar to my pizza excursions) since Smoke's isn't the top-ranked poutinerie in Toronto.

Big Hands

On Saturday, I went to Gallery 345 for The Art of the Piano with Sarah Hagen. I had seen her last year in a violin and piano recital. She hinted then that there was an upcoming album of Clara and Robert Schumann works. The release was available for purchase tonight, but no Schumann was on the set list.

Hagen was as voluble as before and explained aspects of the pieces. The first 3 were all from contemporary West Coast composers, which she dubbed the Vancouver Suite. A Prelude from Jocelyn Morlock used Glen Gould's name as chords (actually just G, E, and D). Jeffrey Ryan's Saturn, from dance piece Cosmophony, also used named chords as a starting point but taken from the designation of Saturn's rings (D, C, B, A, F). Fredrik Yamashita based his The Moon Thinned To a Thread on a haiku. I thought the back-stories were more interesting than the pieces themselves which are of the cacophonous modern composition genre.

The bulk of the recital, "quite a meal" in Hagen's words, was all of Rachmaninov's 13 Preludes, Op. 32. Why did he do it? Because Bach did it first (a suite in all keys). And why for Hagen? Because these pieces aren't often performed together. Yet there is a cohesiveness since the composer wrote them in 19 days. The joke about requiring big hands for his pieces came to mind as they typically had a flurry of blindingly fast notes and massive chords. Hagen seemed transported away by them. I was particularly taken with No. 10 in B minor and No. 12 in G# minor. For the encore, there was finally a Schumann piece, as Hagen ended the evening with the introspective Traumerei.

Heaven Or Hell

After attending a panel discussion on Saturday, I decided to eat at Nirvana at College and Bathurst (after vaguely recalling a recommendation for it from years ago). The demographics is similar to Sneaky Dee's across the street: young 20-somethings. True to its name, the large space, primarily in brown and grape, is adorned with Asian decor including several large paintings of buddhist statues. I wonder if in other countries there are Christian-themed restaurants with crosses and Christ figures. Though they have sandwiches, wraps, and brunch items, they also offer Asian entrees including curry and pad thai. Against my better judgment, I order the vermicelli ($7.95).

What a mistake. Compare my dish with the ones here. Apparently, the Nirvana kitchen/chef doesn't understand flavour. Boiled noodles is a neutral (i.e., bland) base. You need to bring in the green, crunch, and freshness of mint, perilla, cucumbers, etc., the mouth-feel of grilled marinated meat, and yes, the strong flavour of fish sauce (though diluted). Instead I get unassuming lettuce, bland grilled chicken, and barely there fish sauce (perhaps they use homeopathic dilution). Instead of crunchy spring rolls, I find soggy Chinese egg rolls.

Skip the Asian dishes here. Given abundant choices in the area, skip Nirvana altogether. Life might be suffering, but why bring it on yourself.

Imaginary Numbers

On Saturday, the Fields Institute hosted a panel discussion at the Lillian H. Smith library about math in fiction. Although it was an intriguing theme, the topic was perhaps too broad and led to a scattershot morning lacking cohesion.

Suzanne Church is a short-story writer of sci-fi, fantasy, and horror. In a previous life, she was a high-school teacher of math and computer science. So she outlined the idea of introducing fiction (primarily sci-fi) into a math course for a number of reasons: cross-discipline interest, break from formal teaching, etc. The problem was that a math curriculum is already full-time without much wiggle room. With novels, like Charles Eagan's Orthogonal trilogy, you can refer to the work when there is free time. With short stories, such as Ted Chiang's Division By Zero, you have a chance to touch on more authors. Generally though, the examples given had only a tiny bit of math content, but perhaps could be a point of interesting for high-school students.

Tony Pi is also a short-story writer. For his presentation he gave examples of math in fiction. From his own work, a story about Sherlock Holmes, there were bits of math trivia (Marwood's "Long Drop" execution hanging formula) and usage of cryptographic ciphers. For other works, he mostly talked about numerous fictional take on the Infinite Hotel. This led an elderly mathematician in the audience to recall that his life-time love of math came about after reading about the hotel at a young age.

Novelist Karl Schroeder (Candesce series) admitted his reluctance in participating. As a high-school drop-out who failed grade 11 math, he never "got" the abstraction. Yet he is considered to be a "hard sci-fi" author. He explained this contradiction by referring to his latest effort Lock-Step: how to have a galactic empire of thousands of worlds within the limits of the real universe (i.e., no faster-than-light travel, etc.) Given problems and constraints grounded in concrete situations, he is able to work through and think of solutions. Afterward, some math educators commented that they have students who also struggle with mathematical formalism.

Make A Wish

To celebrate their 10th anniversary, The Drake Hotel enlisted a few local bands to play on Thursday. Seeing some band members noshing on complementary burgers, steaks, etc., this was probably a nicer gig than usual.

Female duo Ice Cream was up first. Their beats were amplified through an 80s boom-box and the synths looked equally old-school. One of the singers played bass so their music had quite a groove to it. Combined with short repeating phrases in most songs and heads were bopping along. Regina of Light Fires wasn't as satisfied with minor movements. Her upbeat dance songs required fuller participation. To that end, she strutted the small stage, exhorting the crowd to dance. Most dudes hung back but the women weren't as reticent. Her gyrations by the front windows must have given some of the taxi drivers parked out front a heart attack. In contrast, Cruelty Party was all about fast and furious Green Day-esque punk-pop. The lead singer sweated so much into his mic that they had to replace it halfway through the set.

Birthday Drake

Though I've been to the Drake many times for shows, I've never eaten there. With a short-lived but intense snow squall extending my commute to 2 hours, I decided to skip making dinner and heading to the Drake Lounge. To celebrate their 10th anniversary , their most popular item, the Drake Burger, was going for $10. In fact, greeting me on my way into the lounge was a giant 6-foot pinata shaped as the eponymous burger. It would later be demolished for the candy and temporary tattoos hidden inside.

First came the corn bisque ($8.95). It was fragrant with a hint of spiciness. There were soft beans that added some chew to the soup. I wanted a bit more of the sweetness of corn to really establish the taste. The burger (regularly $17.95) came out as a thick, slightly red, patty. It was toothsome and substantial. The soft bacon added smokiness and salt. The burger was nicely balanced with some cheddar and Russian dressing. The fries weren't quite as good, being rather soft and pedestrian. I skipped dessert because free birthday cupcakes were being passed out by the waitstaff.

It Lives!

On Monday, I went to Live Food Bar at Dupont and Spadina. This small but bright eatery promises not just vegan food but mostly uncooked. Their philosophy is "the only way food should be processed is by the human body". I'm definitely not committed to this odd premise but I was curious to try the food.

For the main course, I opted for the raw pizza ($16). What came out was more hippie bruschetta, but I suppose without cooking it would be quite difficult to form the large "pizza pie" base. So I had 4 pieces of walnut sweet potato crust, topped with almond parmesan, and little bits of arugula, pesto, tomatoes, olives, and cashew feta. The plate was artfully drizzled with olive oil and a tangy vinaigrette. It was tasty, though the portions were quite small. But it was more akin to eating a dense cakey bread than pizza. For dessert, I tried their take on the "Jos. Louis bar" ($5). The chocolate shell was dark and rich. The nut-based interior was gritty and healthy instead of creamy and sinful.

Ladies' Night Redux

Following on the heels of Saturday, it turns out tonight is also jam-packed with female performers. This time, it's at the Horseshoe Tavern. Perhaps it is Sunday night, or because the -20C weather has returned, but the venue is criminally sparse for such wonderful acts.

First up is Kashka, Kat Burns' venture into folk-poptronica. For most of their set, they draw from her two albums including the recent Bound. With live band members, Kashka's sound take on a more rock feel. Perhaps cognizant of that dynamic, two new songs are more in that vein. Burns' is still not fully comfortable fronting a dancey act, but she will need to cultivate a "bigger" persona on stage to really sell the material (i.e., getting the passive Toronto indie attendee moving on the dance floor).

Adaline surrounds herself with digital stations to play the dark synth-pop of her album Modern Romantics. Unfortunately, this is the cause of her troubles tonight. Having brought the wrong set of cables, her equipment keeps losing connections in the middle of a number and requiring reboots. She finally brings up a friend to physically hold the cables in place, to partial success. Adaline is finally left with just a Korg bass synth and ends her set early. Ironically, the lack of "music" or instruments actually showcases just how big her voice is.

Sidney York is primarily a female duo from Calgary playing bright, gleeful pop such as Mile-High Love and new single Hearts. Their band is currently touring to promote their latest effort called "<3s", which is coming out as five 7" vinyls, with the first two already available. High-energy and exuberant on stage, they easily win the crowd over for sing-a-longs and clapping. Any band that incorporates french horn (Brandi) and bassoon (Krista) is a winner in my book. Yet for their antics, the new tunes (Sparks, Weapons-Grade Love, Electro-Love) are more tinkly ballads perfect for those montages at the end of TV episodes (their manager should try and get some of that sweet licensing money.)

Bo Knows

On Sunday, I dropped by Gobo Sushi at the College and Ossington. This Asian addition to the area took over defunct TelePizza (which was a short-lived replacement of Supermodel Pizza). This place is always empty so I wasn't sure of its bona fide. But while I was there, it looked like they do a brisk delivery business.

The menu was typical of these ubiquitous Sushi joints so I went with the standard sushi platter. In this case it was the Sushi Aki ($14.95). In addition to the usual miso soup and salad, there was the mixed board of sushi. I was pleasantly surprised that they didn't load up on salmon, aside from the spicy salmon maki. All the sushi pieces were different including the rarer roe. There were some interesting touches: the rice wasn't as tightly packed; they added some crunchy tempura batter to the maki; but this was your standard average sushi quality. The meal came with a free dessert so I chose the fried banana. It came out as panko-fried bananas with drizzles of chocolate sauce. A nice try but not a great dessert. I was expecting the sweet flavour of Latin American fried plantain or the crunchy shell of the Vietnamese version.

Ladies' Night

Yesterday might have been Valentine's Day but Saturday is the true Ladies' Night as two female singers play at the Drake Underground. The crowd is divided into two groups: older couples sitting at the lounge chairs, and younger people loitering by the back near the bar. This is partly because of the space's poor set-up; people are reticent about "blocking" the view. But eventually, the mass of the crowd pushes everyone closer to the stage, especially at the urging of the head-liner.

Emilie Mover takes the opening slot. She starts and ends the evening with just her guitar and her low-key, jazz-inflected voice. But she has some guest artists including Christine Bougie helping out on guitar and slide guitar, and Jessie and Julie doing back-ground vocals. Her songs tend to the melancholy with deceptively simple lyrics (See You When, Ride With The Tide) but she can also do toe-tapping (True Love, Chuve Chova). Her usual sense of humour is also on display when she calls her friends "The Jay-Jays" (a wink at a euphemism) or states that she told all her friends to cover up because she wanted to have sole cleavage tonight. For her final song, Mover jokingly suggests that "people shut the fuck up" (by invoking her more cantankerous Jazz saxophonist dad Bob Mover). But some people echo her request more emphatically to the noisy bar flies. So her quiet cover of Townes Van Zandt's Only Him Or Me plays to a hushed room.

The head-liner is Mover's Nevato Records record-mate Megan Bonnell. She sits mostly behind her Yamaha piano but does pick up her guitar for 2 songs. With her band, she plays "ecstatic Mumford and Sons". That is, the sort of tune that starts plainly with a few plinking instruments and plaintive lyrics, culminating in furious drum-driven choruses, with a final coda back to voice and keys. After a few songs, I find it rather bland. But obviously I am in the minority, as the crowd cheers for every song. In particular, her back-up singer seems to be transcendentally uplifted on every number.

Piggy In A Blanket

The Cheap Eats issue of Now Toronto included Qian He Traditional Wheat Cake Room and its "chinese burrito". I couldn't find it on Spadina the last time I looked but I finally hit the jackpot on Saturday. 346 Spadina (at St. Andrew) is a building with numerous stores. The Spadina side contains mostly cheap clothes and knick-knack vendors. The large corner has the steps up to a dim sum restaurant (formerly Bright Pearl). But there's a row of stores just a few doors down the St. Andrew side including Qian He.

Looking at the bare-bones interior, it is obvious the sign is from a previous tenant. There is no wheat cake here, only hand-made frozen dumplings to go, typically $4.99 for a box of 20 and a display case of other "cold" offerings: chicken feet, duck wings, hearts, etc. But chef Fan is there behind his station, ready to make Traditional Style Smoked Pork Pie ($2.99), if you speak Mandarin or can at least hold up a finger to indicate how many. This is essentially the fried pancake you get with Peking duck. He rolls out the dough, lays it in the hot-plate skillet, brushes on vegetable oil, and lets the whole thing puffs up with some blister spots. It is then stuffed and wrapped with hoisin sauce, sriracha, chinese bbq pork, and various greens including bean sprouts and green onions.

This is the real deal and better than most burrito places at 3 times the price. Crunchy, pleasantly greasy, sweet and salty, the wrap satisfies the taste buds. Better make your way here soon because when I was there, a steady trickle of 20-somethings walked in, after looking apprehensively at the sign and their smartphone. They must have read the same article I did. Qian He is probably too low-rent to ever get a line-up out the door like some taco joints, but the wait could get lengthier.

Be Mine

On Friday, the Horseshoe Tavern was packed for Valentine's Day. There were lots of couples but also many groups of unattached singles. The ages ranged from early 20s to late 50s because cover band Dwayne Gretzky has broad appeal. They promised to play a "love set" entitled Covers Are For Lovers.

Country singer Whitney Rose was the opening act. She was excited to play her first full set here, though she could usually be found just down the block at the Cameron House. It was already a large crowd, though not yet at capacity, and receptive to her mix of country music and 50s pop. The men were also taken with her slender form and gorgeous features. Perhaps as a nod to the evening, her band did a number of covers tonight including Be My Baby, Stupid Cupid, and It Wasn't God Who Made Honky Tonk Angels. Her songs were also well received including First Rodeo, Old School Soul and the saucy The Devil Wore My Boots Last Night.

Before Dwayne Gretzky played, two DJs from radio station Indie88 made introductions. Ironic that they were tonight's sponsor and had set up a "selfie" booth because, well, they wouldn't be caught dead playing any of these songs. Not classics like Somebody To Love and You Can't Hurry Love and certainly not cheese such as Crying (Aerosmith), Bed of Roses, and The Power of Love. It was all love songs in the 1st set, and plenty of the same in the 2nd though there were also other standards like Under Pressure and Sledgehammer. Songs stayed on the romantic side but there were a few "bone songs": Make It With Chu (Queen of the Stone Age) and Superfreak and 1 break-up tune; Robin Hatch's blistering cover of You Oughta Know got the crowd, especially the ladies, amped up. Guest singers such as Sam Cash singing Alison or Whitney Rose on Islands In The Stream were greeted with loud cheers.

It was loud, packed, and fun. But finally, Dwayne Gretzky ended at last call and people headed home. There weren't too many drunks tonight, though oddly most of them were women who had to be supported out by their wing-woman.

The Way

Breakfast diner Bloordale Pantry at Lansdowne and Bloor branched out with dinner service, a new menu, and a new name. Wednesday night, I dropped by Whippoorwill for dinner. The decorations, eclectic hipster, remained. And the place was as busy as their week-end brunches with every table full and a few couples waiting at the bar.

Although tonight was warmer than the last few nights, it was still nippy and their traditional take on the Portuguese soup Caldo Verde ($9) seemed like a good choice. It was a filling, fragrant soup, full of winter vegetables. The potatoes have been replaced with rutabaga which were generally toothsome except a few raw pieces. The chorizo sausage added rich flavour. Without the cornbread, it was a bit salty on its own. I also ordered the duck liver paté ($13.50).  I would have preferred soft bread instead of the crunchy Melba-esque toast. But otherwise the combination of earthy duck, black sesame and nigella seeds, and a sweet apricot compote was nicely balanced. At the end of the meal, you get a small complimentary bag of popcorn, flavoured with anise and fennel.

O Sister, Where Art Thou?

On Saturday night, I saw a wonderful play, by far the most enjoyable in the last several months. Clown duo Morro and Jasp have done several pieces. Though usually highly praised, I have not seen any myself. I am glad I finally saw Of Mice and Morro and Jasp, generally considered to be their strongest yet.

Probably their darkest too. The two clowns find themselves pan-handling, heavily in debt from a previous show. Jasp (Amy Lee) decided that they need to put on a serious play based on Steinbeck's Of Mice and Men despite the fact that it was, in the words of Morro (Heather Marie Annis), "tragical". This didn't suit them but as Jasp kept repeating: "Desperate times call for desperate measures." Desperate because they decided to sink all their money into this last effort; it had to succeed; and the child-like Morro, having only read chapter 1, did not know the ending for her character Lennie.

But it wasn't a grim 75 minutes. In fact, there were often uproarious laughter. Some of it came from set scenes. For example, when the clowns found themselves at a circus (instead of a farm), and were aghast at having to put on "traditional" clownwear such as giant ties, squirt flowers, and floppy arms. Others came from their quick-witted improv as they enlisted members of the audience to play the other characters. But the strength of the piece was the underlying pathos as the dire straits of Lennie and George ("played" by Morro and Jasp) bled into the clowns' actual lives. At one point, Jasp pondered if she wouldn't be better off only taking care of herself.

It was funny, moving, and poignant. A wonderful evening with some talented performers. And don't worry, though their future may still be uncertain, Morro and Jasp wouldn't leave things with an unhappy ending. As the latter pointed out: "Steinbeck has been dead a long time. I think we can change things."

Bada Bing

The owner of Acadia at College and Clinton has decided to take the restaurant in a different direction. Recently Red Sauce opened as a casual, wallet-friendly, Italian-American diner. I dropped by on Saturday to check out the new digs.

Gone were the white linen and whimsical paintings. Sturdy benches and tables have been put in, along with 1950s-style prints including a dapper gentleman shouting "Hey Paisano!" The menu was about finger foods and sandwiches, with the daily pasta listed on an old Coca-Cola signboard. When my appetizer arrived, the hit of hot oil and melted cheese was an instant flashback to Eastside Mario's and its ilk. But the food was much better than that.

The smell came from the garlic knots ($4). Freshly fried dough covered with cheese, it had a crunchy exterior and a soft inside. The two-bite pieces were quite addictive. I also ordered a knuckle sandwich ($12 for the hero size). Luckily, no punch to the face. The "knuckle" was the meat, pigs' trotters cooked off the bone, then panko fried. Then it was stuffed inside soft Italian bread with tomato sauce, rapini, and banana peppers ($1.50).  Despite its rich appearance, the sandwich was light instead of sitting heavy in the belly. The meat was moist and the combination of bitter rapini and tangy sauce balanced each other out. The little bit of spice from the peppers completed the flavour. This was an excellent take on "friendly" food, showing effort from the kitchen where you might expect lazy cooking.

Holiday

The past few weeks of winter have alternated between freezing temperatures and blinding snow. Friday night was -15C or so which was practically balmy so I headed down to The Great Hall for "Season 2 Vol. 4" of Long Winter Festival. In its second year, this monthly all-ages show has the goal of showcasing art from numerous disciplines including indie games. But most people usually go for the local bands. Ironically, this was the worst aspect of the night.

This has nothing to do with the bands themselves, but the poor quality of the sound system. From past experience, I didn't even bother with the Conversation Room. The combination of poor echoing acoustics and the din of conversation meant the music was either inaudible for quieter bands or impenetrable cacophany for louder ones. Unfortunately, the Main Hall wasn't much better this year.

As such, some bands fared better than others. Alvvays cycled between chill and twee, though the singer's voice was often lost in the mix. Sheezer didn't quite have the power of their Lee's Palace Halloween gig, but covers of Weezer's Blue and Pinkerton tunes had many fans. Too bad that a lot of them were up in the balcony; a "total capacity" dispute with the city meant that bouncers kept a strict limit for the ground floor, though it was only 60% full. The anemic mix doomed Teenanger and reduced their furious music to lame shouting, even if the adolescent mob at the front gamely attempted to start a mosh.

Down in the basement Blk Box Theatre, there were alternatives to music. First, there was blind speed-dating by NotOKCupid where couples could try to make a love connection. The catch was that they were mic-ed for the audience to hear, and were given critiques from "dating coaches" at the end. 5 couples braved the spotlight with some attempting to make a real date out of it while others were obviously hamming it up for the crowd. Then radio guy Vish Khanna held a talk-show with author Dave Bidini (The Rheostatics), Now Magazine journalist Jonathan Goldsbie, and fringe mayoral candidate Richard Underhill (Shuffle Demons).

After a short break, The Bicycles re-created their Summerworks rock-opera Young Drones about the doomed romance between two unmanned drones. The combination of their layered pop, interpretive dancers, and lo-tech animation via cut-outs shone through an overhead projector, made it the most interesting and fun part of the evening.

Noodly Doodly

Having eaten relatively blandly for the last few meals, I thought that I had room for the sodium overload of a bowl of ramen. Thursday night, I decided to check out the 2nd location of Kinton Ramen. They have set up shop around Bloor and Clinton in Little Korea with the noodle house on the 1st floor and an upcoming izakaya on the 2nd.

It looks like the trend of cheaper daily specials have spread. For appetizers, I got takoyaki ($3.80) and a spicy karaage salad ($3.80). The battered octopus tentacle came dipped in sweet sauce and flakes of bonito. They were tasty bite-sized treats though heavier on the batter than the seafood. The salad combined fried chicken with a citrus-flavoured salad. Good but the chicken could be crispier.

For the main, I opted for the miso bowl ($9.80) with thick noodles and pork belly. It was a bit disappointing. Everything was just slightly off. The noodles could be cooked just a little bit more to get the perfect chew. The pork was fatty but not richly flavourful. Perhaps the kitchen was having an off night, but it was a middling effort.

Hello, Toronto

Saturday night at Lee's Palace was a big night for local rock band The Balconies. It was the CD release party for their 2nd album. I was in fact one of the backers for their crowd-funding on Pledge Music. With the money, they hoped to have a more professional release than their first effort. However, local alt weekly Now Toronto gave Fast Motions a negative review, decrying the "glossy production".

It was a night of pedal to the medal rock music, with no indie-pop reticence or equivocation. Alright Alright started the night with some furious 2-minute songs. The singer had a growly strangled yelp that took some getting used to. They then settled down to tunes that had an early 60s feel. Say Yes, on the other hand, channeled prog-rock metal. The bassist, with his long wavy hair and bushy sideburns, could have travelled straight from the 70s. It was head-banging music with numerous sectional changes.

It has been a long time coming for The Balconies from playing to empty room and passerbys. Tonight, they got the "rock star treatment", as a nearby attendee commented. It was true. From custom mics, to a meticulous sound-check, to a roadie to help with the set-up, it was a change from rushing to plug in all your gear. The capacity crowd was anticipating a big show, and they got it. From the first to the last number including a raucous version of Lady Gaga's Applause, The Balconies played tight and fast. I suppose with numerous catchy hooks and sing-a-long choruses, it could be labeled "glossy" or perhaps "radio-friendly". But the energy they brought to the songs got the crowd rocking and dancing all through to the encore. Of course, the spotlight remained Jacquie, the singer/guitarist. With her struts, lunges, head-bangs, and dancing, she drew most of the attention and cheer. But the other members also got quite animated tonight. It was no doubt because of the special occasion. As Jacquie pointed out: "There's nothing quite like selling out a show in your home-town".

Eternal Recurrence

It has becoming something of a tradition over the past few years that a wet snowstorm would occur on Groundhog's Day, and I would make a trip to Italian resto Black Skirt at College and Dovercourt. Since they are closed on Sunday, this year I visited on Saturday night instead. It's a popular spot, although not as hip as Bestellen next door. In fact, with Hotel California on the speakers, and a gaggle of well-maintained 50-something doyens arriving, that's Black Skirt in a nutshell.

The complimentary bread is a good start here. With a pestle filled with freshly diced tomatoes in olive oil, you grind up your own "bruschetta" topping and dolloped it on the bread. The arancino ($5.50) arrived as a large golden ball of fried rice, with a crisp golden shell and a gooey mozzarella center. You won't find much of the veal and pea stuffing though.

The arancino came with a tomato sauce, but I used it mostly on the white sicilian ($9.95). This was an antipasti plate of 4 slices of grilled bread, some chopped tomato and basil, and white anchovies. It was light and refreshing, though I moderated the fishiness by adding some tomato sauce to the mix. For the entree, I ordered a steak salad. Their pasta is known for the large portion so I was curious if it was the same for non-pasta dishes. Apparently, yes. In this case, I was presented with the largest bed of arugula salad I have ever seen. Even with the tangy balsamic sauce and pungent goat cheese, this was hard-going near the end. Three steak medallions were done medium-rare. This was no-fuss comfort Italian.

Unmoored

Friday night at the Rivoli, Anchor Shop presented a mix of local bands. First up was Ivory Hours. They were notable for doing a male-female harmony for almost all their vocals. This worked best on straight pop songs like I'll Stay Away and Two Keys. Their other numbers had more unusual arrangements that weren't as catchy.

Solo singer/pianist Stacey was unsuccessful in reducing the noise of the barflies with her low-key music. Slender in a lace black dress, she played plaintive love-sick songs that often consisted of two chords. It was a hard sell to the raucous crowd.

Air Marshall Landing brought back some high energy with their pop-rock tunes, with hints of funk and reggae. They also did dual singing, but usually alternating between guitarist and bassist. The drummer had trouble controlling the bass drum, as his furious playing kept pushing it away. At one point, he was simply trying to rein its escape with his toes.

It was the CD release show for newly formed band For Esme, a new endeavour by Martha Meredith. Their first song was played in darkness. It was an appropriate introduction to their meandering, experimental pop. Meredith sometimes added an electronic, distancing aesthetic by singing through a megaphone.