Snap Chaat

Monday for lunch, I headed over to Little India. But the little spot I had picked was closed despite the posted hours on its website. I saw that Leela Indian Food Bar had lunch service with standard fares like Butter Chicken. I settled on the chaat pupri ($8.99) because I wanted something lighter and different.

It was yoghurt, chutney, and other ingredients on top of crunchy wafers. I enjoyed this refreshing lunch that combined both crispiness and a cool sauce but I wanted more chickpeas and potatoes. It reminded me of an appetizer I had at Spice Indian Bistro though the latter had a subtler, more refined profile. Overall, it was a nice break in the day and justified me going outside on a cold day when winter had returned to Toronto.

The main problem with my visit is that I'm a cranky old person. It was early on Monday with the restaurant empty except for 1 table. The waitstaff agreed that it'd be unlikely to cause a problem on a typically slow day (they were packed last weekend) for me to take a table for four in the corner. Yet I still had to sit at a smaller two-seat table. These were more exposed by being in the center of the restaurant with foot traffic passing by on both sides.

I don't like rigid customer service. With numerous (cheaper) choices in the area, I'd probably won't come back.

Spell-singer

Saturday night, I headed over to The Drake Hotel. It looked like they did some renovation over the pandemic. But I wasn't there for dinner but to head to The Drake Underground venue for some live music. I don't like the new TicketMaster SafeTix app because I have to bring my tablet. This was my first concert needing the app but it turns out the person at doors merely looked at my screen and didn't bother with any scan. So screw you TM and your "secure" solution!

I was there halfway through a DJ set. The crowd grew when Witch Prophet took the stage. Since last time, she has received a Polaris nomination. Tonight, in addition her DJ/hypewoman DJ Sun Sun, Ms. Leilani also enlisted drummer Cola from The OBGMs. He added a lot of muscular rhythm to Sun's beats.

Most songwriters draw from their personal experiences, but Leilani's stories preceding the songs gave more details. Manifest came from a desire for the Ethiopian-Eritrean conflict to end (given that she comes from both heritage). In fact it did in 2017 after her song came out, but given the current civil war, Witch Prophet concluded that all magic must be renewed. Pearly Gates was a response to her relatives' religious judgment about her being pregnant (at 18), then gay, and now a pagan witch. And Energy Vampires (with an appearance by collaborator DillanPonders) were frightening spectres she sees during her temporal lobe seizures.

It wasn't all fraught topics though. Tesfaye was about her stylish and impeccably-dressed grandfather. Makda was both for her sister (of the name) and the Queen of Sheba. Finally, Love Shock was the first song she wrote for a "love at first sight" encounter. After Leilani sang it to her love interest, they moved in the same day, and have been together for 13 years (i.e., DJ Sun Sun). The queer crowd cheered when Witch Prophet explained that "that's what lesbians do".

It was a fun show with a lot of swagger and rhythm. Two minor criticisms: with a camera crew set up near the front, it kept the crowd from moving closer to the stage. Secondly, Witch Prophet used looping to layer her vocals. But whenever she ended a song by abruptly stopping the playback, it felt amateurish.

Prisencolinensinainciusol

I walked to Coxwell on Friday for some groceries. Passing through Little India, I noticed there were still numerous businesses but more and more gentrified shops have settled in. On a drizzly Saturday morning, I entered one such café that has established itself on the edge of the area at Redwood and Gerrard. Apparently Le Conciliabule has been here for about 3 years. It was a tiny space with only patio seating (in better weather). However, it carried a good variety of bread and pastries (that it makes off-site) as well as other items like wine, jams, and dips. I chose a classic butter croisant ($2.75) and a mustard and cheese twist ($3.50). The regular croissant had a nice, fresh buttery-ness but didn't quite have that multi-layered crackle of the best croissants. I liked the twist, too. Its form gave it more toothsomeness and the cheese/mustard combination added an earthy fragrance.

In the evening, I headed in the other direction to visit a neighbourhood stalwart: Com Tam 168. This Vietnamese restaurant had many regulars who knew the owners. A father and son dropped in to the excitement of the staff. It was their first visit in 2 years since they had moved to Scarborough. This was an old-style place that had pages of menu choices. This being my first visit, I stuck to what should be their strength and chose a bowl of pho ($12.50).

It was a filling bowl with good broth and noodles. The meat wasn't as good as Ca Phe Rang: the beef slices blander, the brisket mostly fat, and the beef balls were typical. With taxes and tip, it was only a few bucks cheaper. So I'd visit if I was in the neighbourhood but this wasn't a destination spot for pho.

How Now Brawn Thao

Thursday night, I was at The Great Hall. It was a small crowd which unfortunately meant that Toronto missed out on one of the best performances I've ever seen. The evening started with some moody pop from Austin band Why Bonnie. Given how mid-tempo their music was, I laughed when they said they were now going to play some slow songs. But those songs about Texas were their best as they layered on a sonic palette of dreamy psychedelic vibe.

Next up was Nashville transplant Becca Mancari. Her music had a sunnier vibe with some strange twists, often interspersed with (ear-splitting) whoops from Mancari. Her songs "for the gays", especially First Time, got cheers from the young queers crowding the stage. Once again, I felt her slow songs were more interesting.

I wasn't sure what to expect with Thao and a full band. Her solo set at The Danforth Music Hall a few years back was quite compelling. Tonight, she started on the mandolin but also threw in some banjo and lots of powerful guitar. On the second song, she did the immensely punchy Phenomenon (the first "zoom music video" released at the start of the pandemic) off her new record. I was shocked because that seemed like a peak song. How wrong I was. New songs (Temple, Mauraders) or old songs (Fool Forever, Meticulous Bird), they all were bangers. It was appropriate that Thao slipped in Mia's Bad Girls because with her penchant for dense, staccato lyrics, there was often a rap/hip-hob vibe to her numbers. Doubly so with a tight, touring band of furious drums and slithering bass. Thao provided the jumpy riffs and maniacal solos on every instrument.

I thought those young queers were there for Mancari since they were closer in age. But they were here tonight to dance to Thao, a queer person of colour. There were old folks too including a septuagenarian (or older) who was rocking hard by the stage. A larger than usual number of POCs also came out. So it was a sparse but diverse crowd that still were loud enough to impress Thao (unless that was just professional banter on her part, whatever her feelings about the audience size).

As the night wrap up, I couldn't help but compare this crowd to St. Vincent's. No disrespect to the latter, but I thought Thao is the stronger songwriter/guitarist. I'm certain that being non-white disadvantaged her career. Of course, both women are better than 90% of the male-dominated music industry.

As a sad aside: the woman taking tickets also work at The Horseshoe so I asked about a long-time staff who I haven't seen probably since 2018. It turns out Tyrone suffered a bizarre injury when someone in a wheelchair fell off the stage (wheelchair and all) onto his foot. This led to a series of leg problems that surgeries didn't fix. He wasn't working much anymore and was considering whether to stay in Parkdale or move back to Trinidad for his mom.

Thrill of the Grill

This Riverdale neighbourhood doesn't have too many cheap eats for lunch. The banh mi was a bit too sweet and the pizza a slight let-down. Thursday for dinner, I headed over to Lahore Grill at Greenwood and Gerrard. Either the indoor lighting could be brighter or the windows could use a cleaning but it was hard to tell if it was open. But I saw a customer sitting at the counter so I stepped inside.

Given the cheap prices on the menu by the door, I wasn't surprised to see a display of prepared food trays. Also, they didn't have an enclosed and ventilated kitchen. Which is to say everything smelled good but it will get into your clothes pretty quick. The mixed veggie curry was still cooking but an intriguing-sounding pumpkin curry ($12) was ready to go.

I thought they were simply going to microwave some frozen naans but was pleasantly surprised that there was a tandoori oven and mine were made fresh right in front of me. I brought my take-out home and found it to be delicious. The curry was a bit oily but fragrant and tasty. The naan was soft with a nice chew. With salad, 2 large naans, and a good amount of curry, there was enough for 2 meals. So Lahore Grill was a good cheap eats. Too bad it's only open in the evening otherwise I'd visit for lunch. But eating curry in a park could get messy.

Satiety

The El Mocambo venue at College and Spadina was shuttered through most of the aughts. I went to a few shows in the early 2010s when it briefly re-opened but only to close again. But after Dragon Den's millionaire Michael Werkerle took over, it went through extensive renovations and was now hosting live shows once more.

I was there on Tuesday to check out a showcase of "new music". I only saw the upper-level bar-room but deep pockets can transform a space. The Lemmon Stage was the most over-powered bar stage I've seen. Smaller than many bars, yet it boasted 4 racks of line-array speakers, a full lighting and sound set-up, and multiple cameras to stream live concerts. The walls had graphic prints of old El Mo concert posters and large black-and-white photos of famous alumni including The Rolling Stones. In these early days, it was clean, new, and corporate (think Hard-Rock Café).

So I wasn't surprised that host Rudy Blair had to thank sponsors and did the typical hype (sans DJ Airhorn sounds). I was a bit bemused to see baby-faced indie band New Friends (first show ever in Toronto) and their fans (some likely drove up from London) trying to generate some excitement. It lacked a certain organic growth because at their stage of development (even with 3 million streams of Purple Candy), they should be rocking out at The Monarch Tavern or The Baby G. The young fans thrilled at hanging out at a big city venue reminded me how old I was. This was triply true when the band's idea of nostalgia was the 80s ("Spin our favourite eighties tunes/All night") or to close with a 2008 cover (Kevin Rudolf's Let It Rock).

It was odd that this new music showcase included SATE. After all, she was recently nominated for a Juno with her album The Fool. I haven't seen her since 2015 and a 1-song set in 2017. Tonight, Ms. Talibah showed them how it's done. In a black dress with shoulder fringes like a warrior-priestess, she led the crowd through a short but powerful set of metal-heavy and loud songs about empowerment: Famous, Warrior,  Nobody and The Fool. She won over many new fans tonight.

There were two other acts but the problem with these showcase nights are the weird mish-mash of genres. In any case, my elderly body was flagging and I had a long streetcar trip back to the East End.

Public House

On Tuesday, I went to Chula Taberna Mexicana for lunch. It wasn't just to have a mid-day break from work, but also to meet up with a friend who had retired early. It turned out after their cross-country train ride to Vancouver, they have been making several visits to Montreal. With rents climbing along with house prices, it might be more economical to move there. Cities in Quebec haven't experienced major real estate spikes yet, though they are also trending upward.

They found (old) Montreal to be more charming than Toronto. With established neighbourhoods, old buildings, and narrow streets, it had a laid-back quality that Hogtown lacked. They loved it so much that on the last trip, they had put in a bid for a very cheap 1-bedroom. But the price was too good to be true. They were lucky to have backed out when the inspection report came through. Considering the uselessness of home inspection, at least according to people's anecdotes and home renovation shows, it must have bad to have red flags show up in a report.

As for Chula, I ordered the Zucchini Burrito ($17). It came out "artfully arranged" as two pieces covered with sauce. To be honest, I barely noticed my lunch. It was the sort of acceptable "ethnic" pub food (such as Indian curry) that around 20 years ago, started to appear in the "olde English/Irish" pubs. Better than the typical burgers, wings, or fries options, but nothing to rave about.

Robin Ate No Egg

I used to take a break from remote work to get takeout for lunch. It wasn't possible in Ottawa but it should be better in Toronto. Alas, there weren't many cheap choices in Riverdale. But it was a bright Monday morning, so I went to grab something quick to eat for lunch at Greenwood Park. I found a small vegan shop called Jinglepear Deli at the corner of Greenwood and Gerrard.

I opted for a full breakfast ($11.99) comprising of tofu eggs and bacon, collard greens, hash browns, and a small fruit cup. It was nice to sit in the sunshine to have a meal. The eggs were better than Hogtown Vegan and the potatoes could be crispier. But the bacon was excellent: salty with a nice crunch. I probably won't order this again but I would certainly return to get that bacon a la carte.

The park was too muddy to walk through. It was extensive with facilities including 2 baseball diamonds, an outdoor rink, a pool, and a kids' playground. I prefer more trees providing shade like Dufferin Grove instead of being merely at the periphery. But it looked like a pleasant space for the neighbourhood.

As for Jinglepear, the business was more on the insistent side of veganism. The "no fur allowed" notice on the door was unexpected but acceptable. But I gave a side-eyed to a poster (with a link to a website) "showing" that all pandemics were caused by eating animals. That seemed to be bad or cherry-picked science and likely include a splash of white supremacy/racism and conspirituality.

Fish Pose

Now back in Toronto for a spell, I decided to visit my old Yoga studio on Sunday even though my daily practice has become gentler in style. It would be nice to see any familiar faces even if I don't know them outside of class. The instructor teased me for skipping out the last few months. I realized that since I joined their class 7 years ago, I might be the only student remaining from that time. Everyone has eventually left for various reasons. It must be a bit melancholy as an instructor to see so many faces come and gone.

There was one person there that I remembered. They have actually practiced with me for a decade ever since our days at the West End YMCA. It was I who suggested that they join me here after the classes at the Y had become stale. Despite this long association, we never became friends. But it was nice to see them and ask after their young family. Apparently, they had returned to the studio in November right after I had departed for Ottawa.

Afterwards, I wandered to the College and Dovercourt area for lunch. A little birdie told me that a new fish commissary and sushi joint called Oroshi had opened not on the main street but just off a garage lane. Unfortunately, the owner/main chef apologized that due to their recent profile in Toronto Life, they were swamped with orders. So I had to grab whatever was available in the fridge which turned out to be 2 onigiri ($3.50/each). To tie me over, I went over to Daily Dumpling Wonton for vegan bao ($6.75 for 3). When I finally ate those onirigi at home, I was very impressed with the sauce and flavour. I'll have to find a way to get an omakase order despite the current hype around them.

Lost In Collaboration

I was at the Toronto Dance Theatre in Cabbagetown on Saturday night for their first live recital since the pandemic. It was a full-house with people still trickling in between performances. For Performance Clash!, each TDT dancer was paired for 3 weeks with an artist in another discipline (visual arts, fashion, sculpture, etc.) Together, they would explore and share ideas and themes.

In execution though, I wasn't that engaged with the 11 5-minute shorts. Only a few actually involved some dancing: a promising combination of modern Japanese (Yuichiro Inoue) with Indigenous spoken word and song (Troy Emery Twigg); a music-video-esque dance (Jordan Alleyne) that included members of the band Tush; and a melding of contemporary (Andrew Taye) and bell-jangling movements (Rajni Perera) that may have been from Kathak dance. The other pieces were more like performance art: playing around with a giant beanbag, and a different one with giant stuffed mother figure, camcorder shots of preening narcissists, and a similar one about local access cable, and a rather strange short involving BDSM pig masks and kink gear.

The rest of the audience found the evening performance more enjoyable. This was probably because, from conversations I overheard between people who haven't seen each other in a while, many of them were in various artistic endeavours. So it was just a fun evening of watching other artists expressing themselves. But for someone who was an interested outsider, I wanted more dancing (or even some prancing). I think the dancers immersed themselves too much within the other discipline and failed to make dance be of equal importance.

Gerrard They Park Do

Early Saturday morning, I had a week's worth of laundry to do. I was glad that this neighbourhood still had 2 laundromats. I love a good laundromat that defies gentrification. I picked Oscar's because it opened earlier (7 am) and was larger. At first glance, it looked dingier than my old spot in the West End. But that was just the age of the interior. During my time there, the owner came and did a full cleaning that included using WD-40 on the machines.

I stayed inside all day because of the rain but finally ventured out to look for dinner at a nearby restaurant. There was a sushi place at the corner of Gerrard and Greenwood. Since Sushi on Gerrard was at a nondescript intersection and ran by non-Japanese staff, I lowered my expectations because of past experiences.

But when I stepped inside, I was pleasantly surprised by the "Zen Japanese" décor. It was (stereo-)typical but still nicer than more utilitarian settings. So I took a chance and ordered the Luxury Sushi Dinner ($25.95) with free salad and miso soup. When the plate arrived, it looked quite presentable. And over the course the meal, I found the nigiri pieces overall to have good flavour and texture. Most important, the sushi rice was soft, not tightly packed, and had a slight vinegary tang. This detail made Sushi on Gerrard a step above these sort of middle-of-the-road joints. It turned out this place was a good choice for dinner.

I wasn't the only one who found it tasty. Only few tables occupied this early in the evening. But there were quite a few pick-ups as well as online orders. In fact, they were so busy that some of the food delivery people had to wait longer than usual.

Hand and Foot

Thursday night, I went to G-B Hand-Pulled Noodles. It was obviously a new addition but its' modest aims seemed more in keeping with the neighbourhood's old character. They had a lot of options but I tried their specialty: Lan Zhou beef noodles ($11.99) with a thicker, round strand. It was a large bowl for a small and quite tasty. I think they make their noodles to order because these were toothsome (not always true with fresh Chinese noodles). With the beef brisket and broth, it was like eating udon and pho together. I liked it better this time around. As a side-dish, their grilled enoki mushroom wrapped with hundred-page tofu ($6.99) was good but could a bit a spicy kick.

On Friday morning, I went to Maha's for breakfast. It was within walking distance from my sublet. My colleague who left the company in December had always wanted to try it. Since they were also an early morning riser and lived nearby, we were ok with an 8 am visit. By the time we finished just past 9, there was a line-up outside.

I ordered some sunny side-up eggs with foole ($16) and they tried scrambled eggs with dates ($16) and a honey-cardamom latte ($6.95). Both of these were favourite flavours. So it was a great first impression as both passed muster. I like the food but I don't love the place. 6 years ago, it was a snooty barista. This time, it was the payment option. When people ask for separate bills, you don't simply split the cost evenly.

They have been travelling since the hiatus and trying to get more rest. Their goal is 8-hours of sleep a night. I wish I could do that, too but I haven't slept more than 5 hours (with several interruptions) in the past decade. There hasn't much job searching because no company in the tech industry seems socially relevant and ethical.

For the rest of day, I made several trips to stock up the apartment with a stop at 241 Pizza for a veggie slice (now $5 and not as good as the location in Bloorcourt). The unit might be furnished but I need groceries, laundry products, and an increasing list of necessities. True, these are required regardless of where I live but on my budget spreadsheet the total cost is rising. Despite all the walking (and carrying), more than I have done in 3 months, it was nice to be back in a place where you don't have to drive or rely on sporadic transit.

04/04/2022: I went back for another slice. Then on Sunday, I was in the Bloorcourt area and revisited to the old 241 pizza. Its price has increased to $4.50. So it turns out that 241 locations have different veggie slices and prices for their to-go slices! But I was right, the bloorcourt location had a nicer crust (and the better deal).

Room With A View

On Thursday, I arrived at my two-month sublet. Located in the East End of Toronto, it was in between Little India and East Chinatown. Over the next several weeks, I plan to explore areas that as a West-Ender I haven't visited as often. But first, time to check out my temporary lodgings.

At $1250/month, it was a great deal for Toronto. When calculated in absolute dollars, I would have spent at most $1500 for train and hotel if I added up all the dates that I needed to be in the city. But on a per-diem basis, around $50/day (with additional expenses like toiletry, etc.) was too good to pass up.

The second-floor apartment was all that I could have hoped for. Well-furnished and filled with personal mementos from work and travel, it was the sort of city apartment (seen in movies and TV) that I thought I would own. But I myself never got beyond the bare minimum at my old unit.

The leaser gave me this great price because they actually owned the small semi-detached house. They had the upper unit with other long-time tenants occupying the main floor and basement. A bit of snooping on house sigma revealed that the house sold for $316K ($26K below asking) in 2007. This triple-threat theatre actor seemed to have made a wise decision back when affordable down-payments was still a thing. In contrast, during my walk after dinner, I found a recently sold semi a few streets away on Badgerow Ave. That place went for $340K in 2006. Two days ago, it had just closed at $1.73M ($531K over asking)! In any case, a 2-month gig on the West coast for them and a serendipitous ad on Craigslist for me worked out for everyone.

With those real estate prices, gentrification was taking furious pace in South Riverdale. From the make-up of the pedestrians, it was clear that the Asian immigrant and older working-class folks were being replaced by a younger, mostly white, crowd. This was also the case for the local businesses.

I actually knew a little bit about this area. So it was interesting to see what has changed in 10 years. Some regular joints like Pizza Pide were still around (though prices have gone up around 50%), others (e.g., dive-turned-bistro-bar Maple Leaf Tavern) were doing well, but a few including movie theatre Projection Booth/Grand Gerrard seemed to have shuttered. There were lots of new trendy places though but I'm going try and stick to old-school and/or POC-owned stores.

To that end, my first visit was to Banh Mi Huy Ky, a Vietnamese sandwich shop. They had other food besides banh mi but for now, I just wanted a veggie tofu for $4.50. It was an alright lunch but their condiments were sweeter than I preferred.

Home Stuck

I left Victoria's Guest House Monday morning to stay at a friend's for a few days until my sublet became available. Since they don't stint on décor and renovation for their small house, their basement was furnished better than most hotels or B&Bs. I didn't mind the low ceiling because I'm short. The upshot was that I essentially had a nice bedroom with private bath and an office nook. Between their home business and my remote work, we only saw each other at mealtimes and a hour or two watching Netflix after dinner. This was as close to (50s) domesticity as I'll ever experienced with someone else taking care of food and cleaning.

But there were downsides to being on another person's schedule. I had no free time to check out local restaurants. The selections weren't as numerous as a street downtown, but there were some interesting choices. Wednesday night, I finally got them to try a Central Asian restaurant but we ended up with their go-to choice: Indian restaurant Nirvana in Mississauga. On the way back, they decided to visit another friend's restaurant to help out with chores. Luckily, I convinced both people that assembling tables while there were customers was not a good business decision. Thursday morning, I was 45 minutes late to the subway because they had slept in until 10:30 am. The alternative was to leave without saying goodbye and leaving their front door unlocked! A rather unfriendly behaviour. I breathed a sigh of relief when I arrived at my sublet and could look forward to some alone time. So my inclination for autonomy resulted from decades of bachelor living ... or was it the other way around?

I discovered a startling fact during my stay. While I was practicing in my friend's home gym which had full wall mirrors, I was disconcerted to see that I had lopsided shoulders. After almost 3 months of daily Yoga, I felt that there has been some excellent changes. There was a decline in some types of flexibility (e.g., splits, box pigeon) from my days of crazy yoga postures but overall my flexibility, mobility, and balance have improved. It was all about proper alignment now. So this shoulder imbalance felt embarrassing and humbling because I'd probably had it for years. How did I not feel this unevenness?

Over the next few practices I concentrated on balancing out my shoulders through every movement. I just hope that I can maintain this body awareness going forward without access to mirrors. Yet I also noticed that I did not have as much of a shoulder tilt when I was sitting down. So maybe there was another root cause: uneven hips, one shorter leg, minor scoliosis, or some other unknown condition? Well, there's more work to be done.

Lambada

Sunday night, I headed over to The Horseshoe Tavern to check out some American musicians thanks to higher capacity at venues. I was disappointed to find out that Renata Zeiguer did not cross the border probably due to some last-minute snafu. She was the main reason I got a ticket. Winston Triolo, touring bassist of the main band, was a last-minute substitute.

But he had enough solo material as well as a new single (Wise) from his New Orleans band Motel Radio to fill out a set. It was interesting that Triolo only had one love/break-up song. He felt more like a folk-singer in the pop genre as he sang about Louisiana (Grand Isle), Lewis Falls near his new home of Portland (Deja Vu), or a good friend (Turn Me Around).

Kate Stephenson also only had 2 nominally romantic songs (Second Option, Exless) and the latter was about never having dated. Otherwise, it was about being a woman in a misogynistic society (For the Daughter I'll Never Have), working in a sexist music industry (Your World), or disappointing her younger self (Please Don't Say You Love Me). Some of the younger men rolled their eyes but the majority female audience loved her honesty.

Summer Salt is a duo from Austin that came on stage as a 5-member touring band. They got big cheers but I was surprised that more than half of the audience was seeing them for the first time even though most seem to know all their music. I wonder what got them on people's radars? Certainly, playing dreamy, shimmering, beach vibe songs (very "Girls") about love will hook listeners. It was sweet music (appropriate for their Soft Serve Tour) on numbers including Give My Heart A Little Break, Trouble In Paradise, and Sweet To Me, but on the right side of saccharine. Summer Salt got the audience swaying and swooning with lyrics like "alone again on Valentine" (One Last Time). But even the older folks in the back were feeling it and raising their hands on Revvin' My CJ7 ("I'm so damn tired/From working overtime/Two kids and a wife/My Miss American pie". Finally, another point for representation matters because without a doubt the young Asian twenty-somethings were there because of songwriter/drummer Eugene Chung.

House Bound

Sunday night, I headed out for another early dinner. I had walked down Irwin, a side-street just off Yonge, on my way to Ca Phe Rang in the morning. I noticed the well-known name of Ethiopian House next to a Japanese bistro bar and decided to return for an evening meal.

Stepping inside, it was a small and welcoming space decorated with numerous arts and crafts pieces of Ethiopian and Black origin. There was a second, larger room upstairs as well. I asked the owner if he had moved as I recalled it was upstairs in a building on Yonge Street. But since I mostly ate Ethiopian at Bloor and Ossington where there is a mini-Ethiopian enclave, I had never stepped inside that location. I learned then that this is the OG spot at 26-years and counting. The other one was a competitor/interloper that only lasted for a few years. The rent keeps rising every year but his clientele knows this spot. In any case, it wasn't much cheaper anywhere else though some folks have decamped from Bloor to around Danforth and Woodbine.

I ordered the veggie platter ($13.95). I was most excited for the collard greens, a delicious dish that is no longer offered at African Palace. But I was also pleasantly surprised at the potatoes and green beans which was a great combination of flavour. This was a tasty dinner, a tad on the oily side, but not as bad as Nazareth.

The dinner ended on a slightly sour note and only because I'm a pedantic rule-stickler. I was charged extra for the injera flatbread. All Ethiopian restaurants I've ever been to does not charge for the injera piece that is used as the base plating for the "platter" dishes. So it felt like a sneaky surcharge here. I could also tell by its dryer texture that the base was day-old. This usually doesn't matter if there's a fresh side piece as most will only eat a little of the plating. In any case, caveat emptor for this spot depending on your personal tolerance for hidden fees. But Ethiopian House did have the prettiest, nicest vibe of all the Ethiopian restaurants I've been to.

You Rang, Sir?

About a decade ago, a fancy French chef with a restaurant in Yorkville offered his own take on the Vietnamese pho for about $20. This at a time when a bowl was still about $6-7. It seemed tone-deaf then and even more so now when people acknowledge cultural appropriation and ethnic food ghettos. However, with a typical bowl now costs around $12, and the influx of higher-priced but excellent Japanese ramen, I have been waiting for an authentic Vietnamese place to take a stab at a quality offering.

I've been hearing things about Cà Phê Rang. There are non-Vietnamese help in the kitchen, but the main cook was an old-school Vietnamese chef with "bona fides". So I felt good about checking this place at Queen and Richmond on a blustery Sunday morning.

The outside with its bamboo slats hinted at a trendy pan-Asian look. But the inside with its cheerful sign and (fake) tropical windows evoked a street-side stall somewhere out by the beach. The music was a eclectic mix of J-Pop, K-Pop, and V-Pop. I opted for a bowl of Pho Tai Nam for an eye-popping $17.

This was a heavenly soup, easily the best pho I've had in a long time. The broth was dark, fragrant, and rich. The better beef selection made each bite a delicious treat. The tai ("raw") beef was tender and fell apart in your mouth. The nam ("brisket") beef was chewy cubes, laced with fat, and earthy. Even the noodles were loose and had great mouthfeel.

This pho is worth the price and is a legitimate contender against the Ramen and Udon spots in Toronto for best noodle soup. In fact, though I had balked at the $15 banh mi, I'm now confident that this menu option would be worth it as well. The only problem is if you're here, why would you pick anything else than the pho? But those fried chicken wings with fish-sauce caramel also sound tempting.

Tiny Dancer

Saturday night, I went to see the National Ballet's contemporary mixed program. There were 4 pieces 2 of which were world premieres. The first was Skyward (Alysa Pires) inspired by starlings and her pregnancy during its creation. The piece's main throughline was spins of various kinds, executed with grace or explosive power. A sparse violin/piano duet sometimes devolved into a modernist noise. The final section had a regular percussive thump that increased in frequency into a driving beat. This force animated the dancers into leaps and jumps.

After the Rain (Christopher Wheeldon) was purchased by the company to honour Jillian Vanstone. This was an excerpt of the full piece comprising of 2 parts. For the first part, 3 couples moved through sequences that often resembled human clocks accompanied by corresponding chimes. In the second, Vanstone (with unbound hair) and her regular partner Harrison James danced delicately and emotionally through a tender pas-de-deux. This got her a deserved standing ovation.

The second premiere was On Solid Ground (Siphesihle November). Things are looking good for him as this was his first professional choreographed piece. He was also recently promoted to principal dancer. Most of the audience (and myself) were ambivalent about the performance. However, the couple next to me loved the synchronous movements set to various music by Black composers. They opined during the break that its more abstract themes were less accessible. But my own opinion is that outside of 30-second tiktoks and short music videos, uniform/formation dancing really palls after a few minutes.

The final piece Elite Syncopation (Kenneth MacMillan) didn't do much for me either. Both the ragtime Scott Joplin et al tunes (played by live musicians) and the various showcases based on social dances of that area were anemic. Once again, the highlights were the collaboration between Vanstone and James.

It was a special night for Jillian Vanstone. After 22 years with the company, Saturday was her last performance before retirement. So at curtain call, many flower bouquets were given to her from various bigwigs from the National Ballet. With loud cheers from the audience, an explosion of confetti fluttered down from the rafters as if she was a ballerina inside a snow-globe.

It was interesting to note that Vanstone is one of the smaller principal dancers/soloists and so is November. But whereas it was an advantage for her with partner work, it may be an impediment for him. In Syncopation, there was a deliberately comical pas-de-deux between him and a "giant" Kathryn Hosier (in reality his size when not en pointe) that drew huge laughs.

I was glad to be present for Ms. Vanstone final performance. In fact, I saw her at an intimate show just before she was chosen by Wheeldon for the title role in Alice In Wonderland in 2011. That selection propelled her from 1st soloist, after 11 years with the company, into principal dancer for the last 10.

The Long and Short of It

I was ambivalent about my previous stay at Victoria's Guest House. The room was tiny and cold with perfunctory cleaning. But Victoria's uses its own booking site instead of me having to navigate travel aggregator sites. It also has several rooms available at the last minute without price gouging. Once I checked in though, I realized that with so many spots free for a place with only 11 rooms meant that there were likely only a few guests. Ironic then that I heard someone walking around directly above me later that night. They were also much more noticeable the next morning (one drawback of a basement suite).

I chose a basement space (there are 5 such rooms), specifically one with a "cot available" option. They were the cheapest ($99/night) and I hoped that with the extra space for a cot, it would be larger. It was a good guess: the room turned out to have enough room for my yoga mat and luggage at the expense of a smaller bathroom. I was still worried about the heat when I saw a small portable heater in the corner. But it wasn't needed. In any case, there was a mini split AC unit with heating option. Unfortunately, I was only able to switch to heat mode once. Otherwise, it was always blowing cold air so I turned it off. Spotty cleaning was still a problem though.

I walked down the street to Si Lom Thai for an early dinner. Last time, this spot was full up during the evening rush. I don't usually put much stock into staffing, but it was a good sign that everyone spoke Thai. I could see why folks order from here. Both the laab chicken ($12) and veggie green curry ($16.95) were delicious. I haven't had laab in a while and this version was a perfect balance of rich oil and tart lime. Too bad they didn't offer it with sticky rice. The curry was perhaps not sublime, but still of excellent quality. Si Lom also had vegan versions for multiple dishes. The décor was eclectic and fun, with a large wall graphic showing a Muay Thai fight. I was intrigued to see a poster for an upcoming competition hosted by Naka Muay Thai Academy.

Not Bigger On The Inside

For Saturday's trip to Toronto, I booked with Megabus. With the collapse of Greyhound Canada, they were the only inter-city bus service left in Ontario. It has been more than 15 years since I traveled by bus. With a double decker layout, it was tight conditions aboard. I'm small and short and with the exception of leg-room, even I felt cramped. Luckily, there was no one in the next seat. Instead of the local highway 7 route of Greyhound, my bus took the provincial highways.

It was pretty to watch the landscape quiet under freshly-fallen snow from high above. Next time, it might be worth the extra $15 to reserve the front seat. These reserved seats do not allow for the adjacent seat to be occupied so this is a nice perk. But I suspect this is only during the pandemic. So price-wise, Megabus is only competitive with Via Rail for last-minute bookings. Otherwise, the train is more comfortable with more luggage allowance.

The other usual problem with bus travel are road conditions. Today, it was a detour through Belleville, Trenton, and Quinte because of a fatal accident on highway 401. I haven't been through this area in just as long and it was nice to see that sushi and pho were now available even here.

I used Greyhound for years, starting with my very first post-college job interview in Mississauga. Back then, there wasn't much online information. So I don't remember how I found all the details to make my way through 2 transit systems to an industrial park at highway 10 and Eglinton in Mississauga. Then I retraced my route back to downtown Toronto to catch a 9 pm Greyhound to return to Ottawa. But not before I had my one and only Taco Bell experience near Dundas and Yonge, when the area was still seedy and vibrant. That was a long, tiring day but I got a job offer that got me to Toronto.

Frequent travel delays due to road traffic eventually soured my relationship with Greyhound. The nadir was an 8-hour trip where people from the rural towns stood in the bus aisle instead of risking a next ride that may never come. Then for a while I got fancy and bought 10-trip passes from Porter Airlines. My last Greyhound trip was for my brief move back to Ottawa, when I loaded my belongings into 2 large suitcases and bid farewell to the rooming house at College and Dufferin.

Bubba Gone Crisis

These are personal entries so I don't comment on world events. But given the rise of the pandemic, far-right populism, extremist demagoguery, and now war, the future feels uncertain. I haven't even touch on the elephant in the room, climate change, which two years ago seemed at a tipping point. Nobody talks much anymore about Greta Thunberg, her generation, and our environmental legacy.

As for myself, I'm feeling my age. I did the late-night shows stage of life as a late-bloomer, so I felt perhaps not young and hip but at least in the loop for a while. But now I don't go out for weeks thanks in part to downloadable books, streamed movies, and even grocery delivery. Last Thursday, I rejected seeing Charlotte Cornfield though music tours don't often come through Ottawa.

My weight gain has contributed to that creaky feeling. I ate out more often in Toronto but I think the home-cook meals in Ottawa have more calories overall. Perhaps they also contribute to my stomach problems. So dreams of extended visits to far-off cities may not happen. In addition, I've seen testimony from BIPOC visitors and students online about their treatment in European cities. I'm not excited to spend thousands of travel dollars to be racially insulted by locals.

Last Friday I visited an elderly relative. At their advanced age, even their son has recently retired. Although if he plans to spend it just watching videos on the sofa, his golden years may be shorter than expected.

On a positive note, my daily Yoga practice that started on Boxing Day is at 75-days strong. With fewer restrictions, I returned to the Astanga Studio for an in-person class on Saturday. Unless you have a one-on-one (guru) relationship, which is hard to do in Western society, or years of practice, don't do this very traditional style. In my opinion, The Primary Series doesn't benefit the average yogi and some aspects such as the constant vinyasa flow between asanas will likely cause injury.

After the yoga class, one of the students complained that because of the pandemic, she doesn't know much of Ottawa despite moving here from Edmonton 2 years ago. I wanted to tell her two things. First, stop practicing astanga yoga. Second, if she made the journey East, she should have aimed for Toronto or Montreal.

I was surprised to find out on Wednesday that another colleague is moving on to another job. Since they were older and only a few years from retirement, I thought they would simply stay until the bitter end and then hang up their keyboard for good.

I'm heading to Toronto this week-end for a longer stay. I'm generally excited though I am surprised how negative and cranky my internal voice is now. Maybe being back in a more urban milieu will let my inner fogie rediscover some joie de vivre.