Sunday Edition

There are plenty of Asian entrepreneurs who open restaurants in Toronto, some are local while others are part of a larger company from Vancouver or Asia. Though many sport trendy décor and food, they are still considered niche. It's hard to escape the ethnic food ghetto except for Japanese restaurants selling ramen, udon, or high-end sushi. I've noticed that those who do get the mainstream love (or at least social media buzz) usually offer more Western fare like artisanal bread or quality seafood. On Sunday, I went to another such place, a newish patisserie shop at College and Grace called Bonne Nouvelle.

They position themselves as French-Korean and the Continental roots was clear with their pastries and desserts. But there was some East Asian influence too especially in some of the flavour. Today I chose a Zen Matcha tart ($9.25) and a simple butter croissant ($3.75). As this wasn't much of a lunch, I visited their neighbour Imm for some veggie pad thai. The tart was a jello-like mix of grassy tea flavour with dark, earthy tones from the black sesame cup. The raspberry made a nice palate cleanser. Overall, it was a tasty dessert.

The croissant, however, was exquisite. When I saw the densely-packed but thin layers, I knew this was going to be the real deal. Not the good-enough pastry you find at most bakeries, even the boutique patisseries. When I took a bite through all that flaky crust, rich with European high-fat butter, I had found my croissant place. Not quite at the level made by the late Donald Duong two decades ago. But Bonne Nouvelle is more worthy than most for his crown.

Plant-based

Sometimes you don't notice the obvious things. Last year, I realized that Toronto had thousands of parks, "a city within a park", despite the idea that the Big Smoke must be a concrete jungle. But this spring I also realized that its' large tree canopy, with some 11 million trees, meant that there will also be plenty of bloom. And it was true, through late April and all of May, the trees sprouted flowers in abundance. As one species died down and budded leaves, another one would burst with colour. As we neared the end of the month, the lawns also got bright. Although there were boring green grass, many homes have a front-yard full of plants, shrubs, and bulbs that sprouted colourful garlands.

But I was also thinking that there was also a cost. All this greenery was possible due to neighbourhoods that were mostly single residences. With zoning laws and Nimbyism, all the new condos are concentrated into glass ghettos on former industrial sites, constructed as huge monstrosities that are plunked down at major intersections, or erected as 5-story dull boxes that destroy charming buildings along busy commercial streets.

The streets were buzzing on Saturday. It was perfect weather: a little bit cool but the sunshine kept things pleasant. With month's end, moving vans were parked everywhere. You don't know why someone is moving out, but I think that moving in is always an exciting step. Someone wanted that fun urban life in a vibrant area. It might turn into a slog of shoddy repairs, bad landlords, and loud neighbours but for now, smiles all around.

I stopped at Honey's, a vegan ice cream shop, on Dundas St. W. near Dufferin. It was on my radar since the winter. I didn't want to buy a whole pint so chose a strawberry crumble sandwich bar ($6.25). The good: nice flavour and creaminess. Hard to believe this had no dairy. The bad: with it pre-made and stored in the freezer, the cookies were hard, cold, and difficult to bite through. Mostly though, a palm-sized treat that cost $8 (after tax and tip) is going to be an occasional thing. As I finished up my snack, I reflected that my old friends in the rooming house on College St. would probably not believe how much Brockton Village has changed.

The day was so nice that I went out after dinner for another dessert hit. This time it was a pecan party scoop ($5) from ruru baked. This ice cream shop opened after The Lansdowne Cone couldn't negotiate a lease with the new landlords. I got my order in before a line-up appeared behind me. The ice cream was light and not too sweet, blending nicely with the chocolate sauce. I also enjoyed the smokey, slightly salty pecan brittle (except for the hard candy coating). They were smart to limit the menu to about 5 choices though there were more options if you bought pints.

Hopefully Ruru won't have rent problems, too. Speaking of which, despite opening in 2011 and lasting for 9 years, I had somehow never gone to The Cone. It's true I'm not a dessert person but I have eaten in this area many times. Perhaps I will (belatedly) check out their new location in the East End.

Georgia On My Mind

Saturday morning dawned bright and warm but the forecast called for rain by lunchtime. But I still wanted to do 3 non-routine things today. So around 10 a.m., I paid for my first BikeShare rental ($7 for a day pass) and did my first ride along the new Bloor-Danforth bike lane. The heavy bike was less responsive but it was mainly the gearing that caused problems. They had 3 gears but I couldn't figure out how to shift. So the low-gear one I had chosen on my second leg at Yonge and Bloor was hard to use on the generally downhill ride toward Broadview. The chain wouldn't catch because of the slope so I was literally spinning my pedals. But the worst part of the experience was the 30-minute limit (to avoid overage charges). So I was always furiously looking around for the next stop so I can dock my current bike.

At Coxwell, I sat with some water and contemplated calling it a day and heading back. But I wanted to visit The Beaches today. With a high-gear bike this time, I felt more secure because it was a long steep trip all the way to Queen St. East. I arrived at the Eastern Ave depot trying frantically to dock while my time was running out. No luck with several stations until I realized the slight incline here meant I needed to lift the back tire so I could fully push the bike flushed into its enclosure.

Hot, sweaty, and a bit frazzled, I walked along the shops of The Beaches to Kew Gardens. I haven't venture deeper into this area in a decade, only stopping at the edge of Woodbine Park (Eastern/Queen) for some free concerts now and then. It looks like more condos have gone up, and the businesses still catered to the mommy-and-me set. I, myself, was specifically looking for a new shop that opened in April: Tiflisi.

With only a few thousand émigrés from the Eastern European country of Georgia, there weren't too many restaurants around. Tiflisi was family-owned and the owners have turned the store into a medieval tavern complete with a log ceiling, brick walls, torch sconces, traditional paintings, and even some ceremonial (hopefully) maces. The menu items looked promising but felt like family meals. I finally chose a Khachapuri which seemed more amenable for a single diner.

Khachapuri Acharuli ($19.30) was a boat-shaped (or perhaps fat kayak) bread filled with hot cheese and topped with a raw egg. I was instructed to mix the egg and cheese and tear off chunks of bread for dipping. This I proceeded to do at an Italian fountain in the park. It was a tasty lunch though the saltiness of the cheese got a bit much near the end. That probably wouldn't be a problem if my lunch included more dishes. You also had to dip judiciously, clearing out the gooey mixture in sections so you can get at the bread with less messiness.

Fully sated, I walked to the shoreline. The park, boardwalk, and beach were filled with people enjoying a hazy and increasingly overcast day. With rain approaching, I cut short my stroll at Woodbine Avenue instead of continuing to Ashbridges Bay, made my way past some colourful townhouses (these Painted Ladies were built in 2008), and hopped on a streetcar.

With life being what it is, I'd probably won't be doing any of these things again anytime soon. Maybe they'll still be around in another decade.

This New Apartment

On Thursday, I watched a Facebook live stream of a Horseshoe Tavern show. The last such event I saw was Command Sisters. Tonight, indie/folk duo Moscow Apartment presented a different vibe. These two teenagers, celebrating that they were now both 18 and high-school grads, were more concerned about body image (Annie), toxic attitudes (Awful People, New Girl) and nature vs profit (Meredith Palmer). On the latter, this was a passionate project for them such that Brighid Fry is an organizer of Canadian chapters of Music Declares Emergency and Climate Live. But they were also young women who sometimes butt heads (Halfway) and into astrology and sun signs (The Tower).

They accidentally revealed during banter that the show was filmed in March so tonight wasn't strictly a live set. A little disappointing but their natural affect lent spontaneity and cheer to the evening. It wasn't their first time at The Horseshoe having played on a bill with indie bands and opening for Odds. I haven't heard them used backing tracks before tonight. It made for a fuller sound but didn't really compare with a full band. It's strange to think that despite their age they were already music veterans: doing tours, playing festivals, and recording in Nashville.

The Road Got Taken

Since I've been working from home during the pandemic, I always include a break in my work-day by getting take-out and eating it at a park. With value-for-dollar and location as the main criteria, I usually default to a handful of businesses and even the same dishes. But this week, I decided to visit the same stores but choose a different item. How adventurous!

So instead of a slice from 241 Pizza, the veggie lunch from Pam's Roti, vegetable bibimbap from Roll and Bowl, and the vegan meal from Dosa Mahal, I opted for a panzerotti, some doubles, veggie rolls combo, and some curry with naan. They were all pleasant surprises: at $7, the panzerotti was quite large and cheesy; I've had better doubles but these had good chew and were cheap ($2.25); the sushi combo was all right but they screwed up the jap chae noodles; finally, I wanted thicker curries but these still made excellent sauce dips for the fresh naan.

On Friday, I went completely off-script and got oysters. Island Oysters had just opened up in the location of Mediterranea. In that tiny space, I can't see them ever offering any indoor dining even after lock-down. In any case, there was a take-out window and a large chalk billboard. With only 4 options, 3 of them oysters, I chose the Shucker's Dozen ($25). After the shucker got shucking, she presented me with a round tray with 3 Kusshi, 3 Fanny Bay, and 6 Raspberry Point oysters. There was also a variety of different sauces.

It felt like a decadent lunch to have at the park. But I haven't had oysters in about a decade so why not splurge a little. My palate wasn't refined enough to detect the notes of popcorn, honeydew, or cucumber as spelled out on the paper tags. But these oysters were definitely fresh and tasty. The 90-cents rye roll from nearby Nova Era Bakery rounded out the meal (I'm hoi polloi). It was a very good lunch and that made all the difference.

There Once Was A Man

On Sunday night, Art of Time Ensemble was streaming a show it originally recorded in 2018 called A Singer Must Die. It was a tribute show to Leonard Cohen by this pop-classical outfit with guest singers including Steven Page, Sarah Harmer, and Sarah Slean. Cohen isn't my favourite singer-songwriter but I thought it might be worth checking out for (another) stay-at-home evening.

I spent most of show with it playing in the background as I finished a crossword. Simply put: I've always thought Cohen (and Dylan) wrote doggerel with leaden rhythm and dull rhymes. On the music side, the songs lacked great melodies or inspiration. And nothing played tonight changed my mind though I have enjoyed Art of Time in the past.

The ensemble did all the heavy lifting. The songs were re-arranged as numbers from klezmer to tango jazz to blues and other genres. There were interesting counter-plays between instruments. But you knew none of this originated from the source material. The singers also poured their emotions into their performance though there was something about Page's vocal timbre that didn't mesh with this content. Mostly though, in my opinion, Cohen's lyrics are good for about 1 verse and a chorus. But of course they're never that short and then you can't help but notice how insipid they are.

So there were occasional 60-second spans where I focused on the performance (after watching attentively for the first 10 minutes) before it was relegated once again to easy-listening muzak. The crossword was fun though.

Avenue Cute

I returned to Geary to try to get some empanadas at Gaucho Pies but I was stymied by the long line-up again. Either it's busier on the week-end or the word has gotten out about their variety of flavour. Instead of wandering aimlessly around this time, I decided to just check out another local shop.

I stepped into Geary Market and chose a burger and fries combo ($11) from Burger Avenue. I wasn't sure if they were the same people or simply shared a kitchen. While waiting for my order, I browsed the selection at this small grocery store. There was a number of prepared meals (lasagna, pizza, etc.) from the kitchen and cheese, snacks, and other staples from boutique distributors. This store was at a higher price-point and had fancier options than a NoFrills or even a Loblaws. So despite the modest homes in the neighbourhood, Geary was no longer very industrial.

I took my lunch to Bartlett Park across the street. It was a passable meal but nothing particularly exciting. The fries was the best part: golden and crispy. But compared to the fragrant spiciness of masala fries from Dosa Mahal or the texture of Harlem Bodega, this was just a good try. The vegan burger was mostly disappointing. The toppings were fresh especially the crunchy pickle, but the patty was soft and bland. Other places seemed to have gotten the knack of meat substitute so this was no excuse. Even a nice crunch from deep-fried falafels would be better.

The nice sunny weather was replaced by dark, stormy clouds. Instead of continuing my walk, I headed on home. But I did stop to admire a flowering tree. Most trees were in glorious bloom for Spring, even this wild one, wedged between a wooden fence and the sidewalk, that found purchase in this small patch of dirt.