Sharing and Caring

With the Prime Minister hosting a summit in Toronto on maternal and child healthcare initiatives in the developing world, a charity concert (Canada Cares) took place at Yonge-Dundas Square on Thursday night. It was used to highlight the preventable deaths (6.6M/year) of women and children. Though laudably down from 13M about 20 years ago, host Cheryl Hickey and a number of speakers pointed out that the remaining toll can be eliminated with simple and cheap (per person) solutions. What was needed was more activist and political will.

I thought there were too many speakers re-iterating similar points. Though it was certainly important to emphasize repeatedly the grim statistics, it felt more like a back-scratching exercise. Each speaker needed to be given equal time to flog their particular charity or NGO. And it mostly fell on deaf ears. The majority were there for the performers, impatient with their cameras, smartphones, and even tablets to record the show. A minority were drunk indigents, alternating between stupor and belligerence. When even princess Raina of Jordan got heckled by a wizened sot as she recounted how she almost died after her 3rd childbirth, it was doubtful there was much impact achieved tonight.

The performers gave their all though. Backed by a funky band, Jully Black and her two dancers strutted, twerked, and romped all over the stage. When she wasn't exhorting the crowd to clap or sing along, she let her voice soared to the sky. Appropriate that one of her song had the refrain "sweat off my brow" because she worked non-stop during her set. Headliner Serena Ryder also gave the crowd plenty to cheer for. So many of her songs (Stompa, Circle In The Sun) had anthemic choruses that were perfect for sing-alongs. My favourite was her cover of Too Close (Alex Clare) where she unleashed her R'n'B diva.

JHOP

Before I went to an outdoor charity concert, I stopped on Charles St. for dinner. Surrounded by towering buildings and busy streets, this narrow lane with its shops and restaurants felt like a throwback. Okonomi House, around since 1978, served mainly japanese pancake (okonomiyaki). I opted for the shrimp version ($7.35) with some bonito and seaweed extras ($0.50). Some complain, since these ingredients are typical, about the additional charge. But given that you receive a good-sized bowl of dried tuna flakes, some people are just skinflints.

The edamame ($3.25) was the same as all Japanese joints. But since one portion may not be sufficiently filling on its own, this will bulk up your meal. The pancake came out sizzling and liberally doused with a slightly sweet and spicy sauce. The dough was a bit bland and didn't have that crusty tastiness. The embedded shrimp could also have used better seasoning, or any at all. But they had a nice chew along with the crunchiness of sliced turnip. So piling on the bonito and seaweed really added some needed flavour. A good dish but not exceptional.

Shake Your Brass

After my yoga workshop, I headed to High Park to bid adieu to an acquaintance who was leaving Toronto forever on a globe-trotting journey. It made for a full day and I was feeling depleted by early evening. I thought to try some pick-me-up music at The Rex, the long-time Jazz dive on Queen St.

The Heavyweight Brass Band, a 4 or 5 piece brass band, recently released their sophomore album, Brasstronomical. But tonight, with the help of friends, they've expanded to a 15-member brass collection called "Heavyweight Big Band". The venue was packed, hot, and sweaty. When they started their set with Just The Two Of Us everybody dug the groove and the big sound. They did numerous pop songs arrangements with their older tunes (I Believe I Can Fly, Beat It, Telephone) but there were also originals on the new CD (You're On Your Own, Hypnosis). It was funky and not subtle. They essentially have two modes: loud and louder. That sort of sound did draw in a lot of passerbys as it spilled out the front door, but I was suffering from sonic fatigue halfway through their set. Though a second set was promised after a short break, I decided to call it a night.

Royals

I was scheduled to go to an early afternoon yoga workshop. Having been advised to eat quite early so as to practice on a light stomach, I decided to have morning dim sum. But instead of the cheery but "plebian" joints down in Chinatown, I thought to try "fancy" Crown Princess Dining on Bay St.

Although they get good reviews for their food, their claim to fame is the ornate décor. A hostess in a black butler outfit leads me to a velvet velour chair. The table had actual linen instead of your typical plastic sheet. There is good china and tea is served in a nice teapot. Add to that chandeliers, roman-style columns, and marble walls, not to mention the bathroom. Did I mention the food is served by women in modest French maid outfit?

The dim sum is more expensive here: small ($3.10), medium ($4.30), and large ($5.30). There are also XL and Special Plates. But it is quite tasty with good portions. The har gow is stuffed with large, juicy shrimp. The BBQ pork buns are equally overflowing with slightly sweet pork. The leaf-wrapped sticky rice is average, with not much chicken inside. But the addition of a sliver of egg is a nice touch. The spare rib is rich and delicious, though as usual you will have to fight through the cartilage and fat. The baked eel pastry seems intriguing, and the presentation is neat, but the flavour combination doesn't quite work. Finally, the fried turnip cake is soft with a slight crunch from the turnip and crusty exterior.

Sounds Like

Friday was the inaugural night for new music series Live At Massey Hall. To expose promising new Canadian acts to a wider audience, 2 acts per night are given the opportunity to play at this historic venue at a low price of $18.94. In addition, the shows will be recorded and mastered for 30 min online videos.

Tonight the opening act was "doom soul" Cold Specks. Fronted by Etobicoke singer Al Spx, they played layered noisy arrangements with her voice alternating between buried in the mix and soaring over it. Though her old songs were gloomy, she wryly pointed out that after releasing I Predict A Graceful Explosion, she had moved on from that depressive state. As such, tunes from the upcoming Neural Plasticity were more joyful. I have seen Cold Specks several times and her mix of gospel and caterwauling are better front and centre on simple arrangements.

4-man band Timber Timbre mined several genres, though each CD has its own thematic flavour. Essentially, they deconstructed classic forms such as blues and doo-wop and updated them lyrically and sonically, often adding unusual chord changes or bridges. Lead singer Taylor Kirk was so excited for his Massey Hall debut (unlike Cold Specks who was more tongue-in-cheek jaded with her 4th appearance) that he blurted out a few four-letter words. At which a voice floated down from the 2nd row balcony section, "Don't swear in front of your grandma". After sheepishly waving at his nona, Kirk noted to audience cheers that "when you play Massey Hall, your grandma comes out to your show."

Finish Him

In the 90s, famous Hong Kong studio Seasonal Film (Drunken Master) tried to go Hollywood by filming several martial arts movies set in North American with caucasian actors. None did very well though some were notable trivia (e.g., Jean Claude Van Damme's first movie). Wednesday night, I went to the Royal to see Superfights as presented by local club Laserblast. Their mandate is to show old classics (and not so much) in the original VHS but projected on the big screen.

An effusive introduction about the film was interrupted by Hologram Man (named after a previous showing) and a Superfighter. They proceeded to fight each other wrestling-style up and down the aisles. Some wrestlers from a local circuit had dressed up to promote their upcoming event. After a few risible trailers, Superfights got underway.

The premise was a tad ridiculous. Jack Cody was a fan of a proto-MMA/WWF network called Superfights with headliners like Dark Cloud and Budokai. He trained himself by watching how-to videos and fighting mannequins at his warehouse job. After he rescued Sally Wong from local thugs, his minor celebrity-dom got him an offer from Vince McMahon-look-a-like Robert Sawyer to become a Superfighter. Under the tutelage of Angel, he became an "American hero" icon. Little did Cody know that beneath the veneer laid a world of blackmail, fixed fights, steroids, and racketeering. Only Sally's grandfather and his "internal martial arts" can give Cody the chi needed to gain the upperhand.

Despite the groan-worthy plot and some hammy scenes, the actors were quite competent. The fighting sequences, mostly martial arts but also included some wrestling action, were unsurprisingly top-notched. The film moved at a good pace and hit all the landmarks: training montages, wise master, smart-assed but pure-hearted hero, one on one, group melees, and of course final showdowns. It was actually quite a fun movie and didn't need the embellishment added by Laserblast in the form of karaoke lyrics whenever the theme song came on. It was distracting and even offensive. Despite their tongue-in-cheek "LBI" (Laserblast Bureau of Investigation) advisory about engaging in cheers and even boos but no hurtful or snide remarks, they printed some juvenile asides regarding the "questionable" nature of the muscular Angel. Lamers gonna lame. But otherwise, it was a great night and more enjoyable than most recent Hollywood flicks.

Barque Up The Right Tree

Early on a holiday Monday morning, I headed over to High Park for the cherry blossoms. I figured I had missed the peak bloom last week-end. Heading along the more picturesque walking trail on the west side, I finally arrived at Grenadier pond. With leaves already filling in, the trees weren't gloriously impactful. But there were still a few with mostly full bloom. This early, there weren't too many people: a few nature photographers, and small groups taking romantic shots of engaged couples. By the time I left, the crowd was starting to arrive, including some in traditional Japanese garb.

I headed over to nearby Roncesvalles for brunch and settled at Barque, one of the smokehouse that opened during Toronto's BBQ craze a few years back. All gleaming tables and wood, the place included personal touches like mismatched coffee mugs to seem less like a mini-Kelseys. I ordered the beef brisket sandwich ($14) for brunch.

The spinach side order was enlivened with bits of citrus fruit and crunchy nuts. The sandwich also had crunch from the slaw and fried onion. The brisket was reasonably tasty, though on the dry side. This wouldn't be the best smokehouse in the city, but a good choice for the neighbourhood.

Return Of The Mac

A few weeks ago, I had a rare bad meal at local haunt Hey Meatball. There's nothing less tasty than overcooked pasta. Dismayed, I've been avoiding it for a few weeks. I returned on Sunday but decided to try instead their meatball sub called The Rodfather ($12) after the restaurant founder. It was good, perhaps too much of a good thing. The toasted bread barely held together 3 large and tasty meatballs. Add some melted cheese, pesto, and a tomato sauce and you had a messy meal. Unlike the pasta, which you could pretend to be reasonably healthy, there was no denying the heart-clogging indulgence of this choice. Luckily, I had a vegetarian dinner planned for later to hopefully balance out the day's intake.

Amour Fou

Saturday night, I went to the Four Seasons Centre to see Don Quichotte, a relatively minor opera by Jules Massenet. In popular culture, it is certainly less popular than Man of La Mancha. Based on Cervantes' Don Quixote, the main impetus for this version of the knight errant is his chivalric love for the fiery Dulcinée. No doubt because the 67-year-old Massenet was also madly in love with mezzo Lucy Arbell.

The opera opened in a small village where 4 suitors attempted to win Dulcinée (Anita Rachvelishvili). There was a small gender-bending subtext as two of them were played by women. As for the bachelorette, her aria "Quand la femme a vingt ans" made it clear it was the chase and excitement that thrilled her. Elderly Don Quichotte (Ferruccio Furlanetto) and his fat squire Sancho Pancha (Quinn Kelsey) arrived to the delight of the villagers. They were gently mocking of his knightly delusions but were also moved by his generosity and warmth. Quichotte fell for the young girl and promised to prove his devotion by retrieving her stolen necklace. And so the old knight and his squire would embark on journey to travel long distances, tilt at giants, and brave bandits and thieves. Unfortunately, despite keeping true to his word, Quichotte would not find love as his reward.

To reflect the fantastical dreams of the knight, based not in reality but his immersion in literature and text, the set was composed of giant books (and sometimes quill pen and inkwells) rearranged to suggest a villa, windmills, or some perilous woods. The addition of live animals, a horse for the knight and a donkey for his rotund companion, as well as professional dancers for the flirty village dances gave a lively realism to the scenes. But none of the arias were particularly memorable, except for Quichotte's exhortation to stand firm against the windmills, which he thought were marauding giants. As for his infatuation for a girl 40 years younger, I couldn't help but think (as a warning to myself): "there's no fool like an old fool."

Soft-boiled Wonderland

On Saturday, I stopped for lunch at new-ish Wind-up Bird Café, an eatery that locally source its ingredients. The place was bright with cheerful yellow walls and decorations. The atmosphere felt homey and welcoming without resorting to mismatched boho-chic furniture. Rare for a Toronto resto, there was lots of spacious room. I opted for the Belgian waffles ($9.95) with some extra sausages ($3).

I was impressed with the plating, which practically invited you to dig in. The waffles were soft and soaked up the syrup nicely. The soft bacon was wonderful: thick and fatty. And the sausages had a delicate flavour. I appreciated that the vinaigrette for the swiss chard was light on the acidity. The greens themselves were a bit bland, I would have preferred something more fragrant or alternatively more bitter. In general, this place was a step above most casual eateries in the area. Their dinner menu also looks to be a winner.

A Fine Debut

On Friday, recently formed trio ISA composed of Jacquess Israelievitch (violin), Jihyun Ahn (cello), and Benjamin Smith (piano) had their first public performance. The small venue Gallery 345 was reasonably full for 3 pieces. The first piece was Beethoven's Trio in D major, Op 70, No 1. It is also known so as the Ghost trio because he incorporated fragments from his uncompleted Macbeth opera. I found the second movement, with its slow eerie arrangement to be most apt with the moniker.

The highlight for me was Shostakovich's Trio in E minor, Op 67, No 2. Written at the end of World War II, it incorporated Jewish melodies, and was written for the victims of fascism. It sounded modern with strong percussive elements due to plucked strings, bow taps, and strummed chords. During certain passages, I felt my heartbeat and breath reverberating to the music. I don't recall ever having such a physical reaction; it was both thrilling and a little scary.

So it was that Schumann Trio in D minor, Op 63, No 1 was a bit of a let-down. It was indeed "romantic but sophisticated" with its cascades of notes and chords. Under other circumstances, I might have enjoyed it more. But after the harrowing Shastakovich, it seemed too tame and ornamented. Nevertheless, it was an evening of wonderful music.

Fiddler On The Hoof

Though there was a heavy downpour Wednesday night, I headed over to the Dakota for a CD release show. Fiddler Miranda Mulholland can be seen playing gigs with various artists (The Strumbellas, Great Lake Swimmers) but tonight she was headlining as a singer/songwriter. First up was a friend of hers, Don Brownrigg, doing an acoustic solo set.

Transplanted from Newfoundland, he sang mostly quiet, introspective songs (Just Breathe, Sweet Dream Sleeper). They usually had at their core disappointment and rueful regret. Amazingly, the usually noisy bar was pin-drop silent for his set. Though his songs were good, I think Brownrigg caught a lucky break. People quieted down for one of his early songs and the mood continued as no one wanted to seem rude.

He would return to do a duet with Mulholland on a saucy "bar hook-up" number called How Many Times. She started her set with Whipping Boy, an upbeat number with a slight Easter European feel. However, with her light voice with a slight twitch and quaver, there was generally an East Coast vibe to her music even on pop arrangements. On her instrumentals, her fiddling definitely brought out the foot-stomping. Her band was primarily composed of Great Lake Swimmers musicians plus a few guests on piano, banjo, and cello. Sarah Slean came up for the narcissistic Vanity's Disguise. Splitting her time between Toronto and L.A., it inspired Mulholland to pen The Palms and The Pen which tonight she sang with Tony Dekker (Great Lake Swimmers). Given the warm and loving feeling that permeated the venue, it felt like being among friends (no doubt because many knew her). Not surprisingly, Mulholland also curates shows that take place in small storefronts, kitchens, and apartments.

Good Court

Catering to the students from OCAD and the surrounding neighbour, the fare in the mini-mall inside the Grange is primarily fast-food. But there are a couple of exceptions. So I'm always glad to return to Manpuku, a little Japanese diner. The word has gotten around, and even for an early Saturday lunch, the place is packed. However, the staff here is smart enough to let the overflow sit out in the food court after ordering, and will actually bring the food out.

Though they started as an Udon place, their menu is fairly extensive. I'm always surprised to see the items I haven't tried. I ordered perenially favourite Tsukichi udon ($5.49) and Tsubugayaki ($5.99). The udon was the basic seaweed variety but they added some fish cakes and a fried egg, done sunny side up. I enjoyed the fact that their broth was lighter on the sodium than the ramen noodle houses. The second order was a variation on the fried dough stuffed with octopus. In this case, it was clam. The menu claimed also shrimp but I couldn't detect any. A little too aggressive with the green onions, but also a tasty dish. As always, I left satisfied with a nice cheap lunch.

Jonesing For Jazz

On Friday, I made my way over to Revival Club around 8:45 pm for Canadian Music Week (CMW). With rising star Nikki Yanofsky on the bill, I figured it might be tough trying to get admission later. Turns out the club was running so late that doors was pushed back an hour to 9:30 pm. So I, and along with a growing number of nattily dressed people, cooled our heels in line. I watched with bemusement as a wide variety of personnages (some quite indignant) tried to get in with a range of reasons: guest list, media, chummy with club owner, etc. Some were ushered in with alacrity by the bouncers, others stood with the rest of us.

Inside, it became clear why there was all the hoopla. This showcase was sponsored by a major label: Universal Music. In addition, music legend Quincy Jones was on hand to introduce Yanofsky. So there was a lot of folks from other areas of the music biz on hand: security, hanger-ons, VIPs, entertainment media. Watching the glad-handing, schmoozing, and back-patting, things just got weirder and weirder as the night progressed.

But what about the music? Luckily, it was actually good. First to go up was Jesse Gold, the only act not signed to Universal. This young guitarist (19-20 years old) and his equally baby-faced band brought swagger and jamming funk to the show. Apparently, he impressed Mr. Jones so Gold may not be unsigned long. Bobby Bazini had a couple of country-fied songs appropriate to his jeans and shirt look. But with 3 back-up singers, he also did some soulful wailing.

After a glowing introduction by Quincy Jones, who executive produced her new "debut" album, Nikki Yanofsky came on stage in a tight retro black dress with fringes. With a full band including a horn section, they barely fitted on the small stage. Yanofsky's new mainstream sound was a mix of soul, pop, and jazz. She has a big voice and an assured stage presence, not surprisingly since she has been performing since she was 14. Covering most of the songs on the CD (Little Secret, Necessary Evil, Waiting On The Sun), it was upbeat, danceable, and accessible. But as she pointed out, she wanted to bring "jazz back" so there were a lot of jazz elements, including several scat solos from her. With her talent and big label backing, Yanofsky won't be playing  in small clubs for much longer. Actually, it was more in the spirit of CMW that she even played at this smaller venue tonight.

After her set, a phalanx of excited young men and giggling women crammed up to the stage. Cris Cab from Miami was their man. Recently signed and with a big hit in Europe called Liar, Liar (written with Pharrell), he brought a reggae-lite pop sound. It was fun to dance and sing to, and not too complicated or deep. There were two other acts: newcomer Andee and veteran Kardinal Offishall. But now that we were almost 1.5 hours late and approaching 1 a.m., I decided to make my way home.

Om nom nom

I had an OK but not great Korean meal a few weeks ago. I was passing through Koreatown again Thursday night. This time, I noticed that perenially favourite Imone wasn't packed as before. So I stopped off for dinner with some pork bone soup (Gamjatang) and an extra side of grilled beef (Kalbi). A huge spread was laid out in front on me. There were 8 different kimchi dishes with the crunchy beansprouts and soft tofu the highlight for me. A big bowl of soup filled with tender pork (You do have to do a tiny of work removing the meat from the bones). To be fair, there wasn't much else in there except, oddly enough, for half a potato. A full serving of purple rice also came with the order. Finally, a good portion of slightly sweet beef made for a filling meal. All this for an astonishing $14 all in ($6.95 for the soup, $7 for the beef). It's time like this I wonder why I even spend $50-60 on trendy restaurants.

Don't Entertain Us

As part of this year's Canadian Music Week, In Bloom hosted a charity concert at the Great Hall on Tuesday. "Come As You Are" had local bands play Nirvana covers, on the 20th anniversity of Kurt Cobain's suicide, with the proceeds going to teen mental health initiatives.

The evening started with slow-burning numbers (Scoff, Polly) as sung by Queen of the Fleet and Kathleen Munroe. Abstract Random switched things up with a hip-hopified Love Buzz. Considering that 3 women singers fronted Nirvana's performance at the recent Hall of Fame induction, so it's interesting that the majority of artists tonight were also women. But there were male bands too (Wild Life, Biblical), who as a group tended to the more raucous songs (Smells Like Teen Spirit, School). Not too be out-done, all-female "cock-rock" cover band Vag Halen also brought the fire and fury. But my favourite number was a slower, but equally intense and noisy, Frances Farmer Will Have Her Revenge on Seattle sung by Julie Fader and accompanied by Carmen-elle (Diana, Army Girls) and Fresh Snow (wearing Pussy Riot balaclavas).

It was an odd concert. The performances were for the most part excellent. But each set-up and tear-down, with some clocking in at 15 minutes, meant that the evening seemed to drag interminably. There was no momentum or energy to the show. They should have stuck to one or two "house band" with a changing list of singers to keep things moving. Not surprisingly, unlike a typical concert, the audience shrank as the "big headliners" made their appearances.

Life Is A Cabaret

Ever since I saw Jennifer Walls as Liza Minelli at Fringe, I wanted to check out her weekly open mic/karaoke called SINGular Sensation. Monday was her 30th birthday so I thought it would be the perfect time to head to Statlers to check it out. I arrived just in time for a surprise birthday welcome for Walls. When you have friends in the arts, they make you a cake with Liza doll on top and sing Happy Birthday in multi-part harmony.

Most people who signed up to take their turn on the tiny stage chose musical theatre numbers instead of pop songs: from the popular (Suddenly Seymore) to the more obscure (A Day With Julia). Walls made an engaging hostess and also sang a number or two. With work in cartoons, she had quite the knack for voices, especially kiddy ones. The atmosphere was raucous though and the basic sound set-up couldn't really compete over the noise. It was fun but I realized something interesting. Without the staging and the story, I actually don't like musical theatre much; the mannered singing doesn't engage me.

Cinco De Mayo

On Monday, I went to Tierra Azteca for dinner. It's not the best Mexican joint in town. There's been a mini-explosion of high-end Mexican and taco restaurants in Toronto. And authenticity is a slippery concept. But I do enjoy the fact that the dining area is inside a Mexican grocery store with its clientele being primarily Latin Americans who are there to grab a bite to eat, some imported goods to go, and maybe send a bit of money home at the cash exchange. It's probably the closest to a bodega outside of NYC or California.

But now Azteca has pictures on the windows and a menu. And people who speak English. So the food is no longer a mystery to the uninitiated. Still cheap though. My 4 tacos of beef and chorizo were $10. The Mexican Coke added another $2. Be careful with the soft drink. Their fridge contains two kinds of Coke (along with a variety of other imported drinks). Both are Mexican but one uses sugar cane and the other high-fructose corn syrup. I prefer the sugar cane myself. Both types of taco were good with lime and spicy salsa, though the chorizo was on the salty side.

Piggy In a Bean Bag

I had a few things planned for Saturday, but multiple encounters this past week with rude individuals have left me more irritable than I thought. After a few neutral encounters that felt irrationally like negative experiences, I knew it was time to hole up for the rest of the week-end. So after grabbing some groceries from Chinatown, I decided to go to my new favourite place Qian He for some chinese burritos before heading home.

But wait, finally some fun news. Part of the joke for this place is that despite the signage, there are actually no pork pies. Well in fact there are meat pies! As I watched the dough turn into that deliciously greasy wrap on the hot-plate, chef was also cutting up the same rolled dough into smaller squares, adding some raw pork mixture, and twisting it closed. I can't tell you what it's called since he doesn't speak English, but it's 4 for $5 as the new white sheet of paper says, taped next to the poster of the burritos.

These fist-sized meat pies made a great snack. They were less greasy than the wrap, but crunchy and warm. The pork was mildly spiced with some herbs. An average person can go through all 4 without difficulty. In fact, they reminded me of the Vietnamese pork pastry known as pâté sô (or pâté chaud).

Slow Food

The Slow Food Movement should visit Rikishi near Christie Pits Park. Since there is 1 sushi chef, and he looks to be about 85, the first secret is: "20 minutes for your order, add another 20 for every table that's occupied." Given a week of loud and rude fellow passengers on public transit, I decided on Friday that this was the place for me tonight, having skipped over this quiet oasis for flashier Izakayas for the past few months.

But I picked the wrong evening. Two quite vocal women were in the space. They finally left in a huff after a wait of 40 minutes. I would have more sympathy since they obviously were expecting cheap and quick sushi given the unassuming décor. But as they stiffed the waitress on the bill for what they've already eaten, and had also spent 5 minutes cackling over a video played at full volume on their iPhone in complete disregard for other diners, I wasn't feeling too bad. And if their threats to bad-mouth Rikishi prevent others like them from dropping in, the regulars (who've been keeping this place open for 25 years) wouldn't shed much tears either.

How's the sushi? I paid $19.75 for the sushi deluxe set. It's a few dollars more than similar ones at the other places on the strip but the quality is several notch higher. You won't get Kaji-level but everything was done right. The rice was at room temperature, slightly moist, with a hint of vinegar, and loosely packed. The seafood was flavourful and delicate.

Another secret is that while you're waiting, and if  you're willing to spend a bit more money, go over the extensive menu (don't forget about the chalkboard specials) and pick a few dishes. Tonight, I opted for the kaki fry ($7.25) and white tuna tataki ($6.75). The first was oyster fried in a light batter. It was a textural dish with bursts of ocean saltiness. The second was rich, buttery tuna with a smoky seared outside. Both were delicious.

The final secret to Rikishi is to bring friends who are partial to quiet conversations or a good book for reading. And keep in mind that old adage: "Good things come to those who wait."

She Haw

The first annual SheDot comedy festival started Thursday night and will run for 4 days. The focus is all female comics, perhaps to give them more exposure, and maybe also to thumb a nose to various claims that "women aren't funny." There are multiple shows covering sketches, improv, and stand-up as well as categories including a PG show vs. SheUnleashed, a dark and dirty showcase. I dropped by the Comedy Bar for SheDot TDot which put the spotlight on standup comics from Toronto.

Sara Hennessey made for a manic MC whose growing preoccupation with Chatelaine, wedding planning, and other "grown-up" concerns was worrisome for her self-image as a fun-loving, young woman. She promised a night of "female" tales with a few sop to the men in the audience. But contrary to her assertion, there was no divacup stories. There were plenty about water births (Julia Bruce), breast-feeding (Zabrina Chevannes), sex toys (Rachelle Elie), and periods (Keesha Brownie). Some women of colour also tackled racism including the borderline racist friend (Hoodo Hersi). But they also covered other topics such boyfriends (Karen Mitten), airport security (Candice Gregoris), and living near a strip club (Lianne Mauladin). There were funny moments but also a couple that got more smiles than laughs. The stand-out was Chevannes, who had the most engaging stage presence and a consistently hilarious set. It started with her handling of a disruptive drunken girl ("Security ... security never helps a black woman"). Actually, they did respond quickly and ushered her out. Chevannes then proceeded with several guffaw-worthy stories including her comic stint in L.A.

For a first year, the festival was well organized with sponsors, t-shirts, and volunteers. On the 1st night, there were mostly women sitting in the audience. Hopefully, a more general crowd will attend over the next few days.

Make Em Laugh

The Carnegie Hall Show, an improvised comedy show by Matt Baram, Naomi Snieckus, and Chris Gibbs, ran for 3 years at the now defunct Bread and Circus Theatre in Kensington. Having been on hiatus, with a one-off now and then at Second City, it made its returning debut at The Drake Underground Wednesday night.

As a pseudo variety show, the evening started with Brandon Firla of comedy duo Rumoli Brothers. Along with Waylen Miki on piano (who provided musical accompaniment the whole night), Firlan sang the satirical Mrs. Worthington (Noel Coward). After taking some audience suggestions, the trio acted out a series of improv scenes around the theme of "water". They shone with their ability to take on a variety of persona, voices, and accents. With their dads in the audience, a second theme of "father-child" arose organically, often hilarious but also poignant. The first set ended with an original song by the Rumoli Brothers about their love life.

The second set didn't fare as well. It started promisingly enough with a funny sketch between Baram and Snieckus. Two classmates met at their 20th high-school reunion. The running gag was that every joking tease about another classmate turned out to be true: "Where's wild-man Tom? Did he die in a car accident? haha ... oh, he did. Sorry." But the main piece, an improvised "radio play" ran on too long with a scattershot of hits and misses. Most importantly, it lacked actual "special effects" sounds and optionally, old-timey radio play voices. So it became an improv piece with people standing around talking into mics. There were still some laughs but several lulls.

It was a funny and promising return of this show. They plan on performing every 1st Wednesday of the month. But the $22 ticket price is too expensive for me to make it a regular event.