Bye Town

The revived Dough Re Mi was back on life-support after another visit on Tuesday. It first looked good for the vegetarian mannakeesh ($5.99), piled richly with olives and other ingredients. But it was a bust: the sourness of the sauce was off-putting. But those wet toppings created a crust that was both soggy (the dreaded gum line) and dry.

Needing a good pie, I returned to Ogilvie Pizza on Friday. The owner was happy to see me since I haven't been there in a year due to my Toronto sublets. The price for a slice and drink has gone up a dollar to $7.99. It wasn't perfect, but similar to Montreal pizza, putting the meat before the cheese meant less moisture being trapped. I contemplated going to the NAC to see Anh Phung and the Civil Lizard (including Steven Foster on drums). But an evening of 3 sets of Jazz wankery didn't appeal.

To celebrate the 200th anniversary of Ottawa, transit was free on the week-end. I wasn't sure what other celebrations were planned. I did see people wandering downtown with commemorative posters and other tchotchkes. I walked down Bank Street and thought about missed opportunities. A main street should not be this empty on a Saturday. But the combination of vacant-on-week-ends government buildings and local businesses have always killed the downtown core. There were now more condos (actual or planned) but at the cost of street-level attractiveness. Will there ever be a turn-around or it was too late due to decades of poor planning?

I turned on Somerset to head to the Mid-Autumn Festival in Chinatown. But poor planning also made this street festival seemed sad. Whether it was the BIA or the city bureaucrats, the vendors' were crammed into two small blocks. If there were more space between booths and they were positioned only on one side of the street, it might have stretched invitingly from Bronson to Booth. I didn't want to pay $15 for 5 dumplings with no convenient place to eat.

I turned again on Booth to go to Pimisi Station. When I briefly returned to Ottawa in the mid 2000s, I often looked at a lone condo under construction at Lebreton Flats while waiting for a bus to take me to a business park in Kanata. After 8 months, this desolate view convinced me to give Toronto another try leading to 15 years of urban bliss. That condo had no neighbours for years. It took 2 decades and an LRT, but the area was finally built up, even though most of the buildings were still under construction.

Two quick stops later, I was back on Bank. I stopped off at Kimbap, a new Korean take-out. The husband-and-wife proprietors and the nooks filled with small decorations reminded me of Roll and Bowl. The vegan bibimbap ($15) wasn't quite as good a deal because the order didn't have miso soup and salad. The bowl was tasty enough, but like other restaurants in Ottawa, they substituted mainstream ingredients (green lettuce, cucumber) for more authentic flavour such as bean sprouts and kimchi.

It wasn't just the city's anniversary but also Nuit Blanche Ottawa. This was a modest attempt to revive a decade-old bust. I haven't gone to the much larger Toronto one in a decade, mostly because it has become more of a party. During the week, I was curious to see if concentrating the installations in Byward Market could generate a crowd. There were also shows at the Saw Gallery at the multidisciplinary Pique festival (free this year because the city's anniversary) with some non-local acts including Karen Ng (The Weather Station). But once again, I opted out at the end. It was mostly due to living outside the core and dealing with unreliable transit. Also, this was Karen's in her improv mode and not the friendlier musical mode.

In The Key of Three

I had a case of FOMO since last week. I hadn't seen singer/model Ellisa Mielke (Mieke) for a decade. With her relocation to L.A., she rarely plays in Toronto anymore. Mielke was showcasing songs from an upcoming album at The Burdock ($15) on Thursday. Then on Friday, recent find Monstrosa, a mostly female metal band, was having a show at The Monarch ($16.95). But I had just returned from a short trip to Toronto, one with good food but albeit no entertainment outings. Financially, it didn't make sense.

Over the course of the week, I kept checking AirBnB and discovered something new. As the booking date neared, some hosts (or more like the site's algorithm) dropped their prices. By Wednesday, a spot located in Bloordale offered $99 per night. But finally I decided that, at my age, I wasn't up for a quick 2-day trip (by bus) so soon after a previous one.

So though I didn't go out in Ottawa for shows anymore, I looked for something to do on Saturday. There was a $20 concert at the 4th stage studio at the NAC. The main draw for me was Lia Pappas-Kemps who I saw at a January show. She played a solo set showcasing older songs and new, unreleased numbers. Kemps only played 1 song from her album released in March. Her reason: without a band and a fixed set list, she had more freedom to mess around. Her songs were lyrical (in her words "melodramatic") with odd chord changes (she changed her guitar's tuning after every song). She said that her new stuff was an attempt at "simpler songs" but they were still a bit ornate. I prefer the stark specificity of a singer/songwriter like Teagan Johnston.

The headline set was the duo True Mountain Laurel. This was a 1-year-old collaboration from Haley Blais and Sam Lynch, friends with established musical careers. With only 22 minutes of tunes on the new album, they also included their own songs. The Laurel songs were more playful, a banter between friends while their own material were uniformly "sad songs". Their two-buds, millennial-coded stage patter received big laughs. Kemps joined them mid-set for two songs. The 3-part harmony and trading verses on Anna Nalick's Breathe (2 AM) was lovely. It is always bemusing to realize some young person's classic song is way after your time. But the stunner was Kemps' new song "I Want It Easy" (to be released soon). Blais and Lynch were right to demand that she sang it during their own set with them on backing vocals. Here was finally a "simple song" that landed with heavy lyrical weight. It could get Kemps into the mainstream.

The 3 performers and I were all taken aback at the near-capacity (I eyed around 120) crowd. Both Kemps and True Mountain Laurel were too new so many might have been fans of either Blais or Lynch. Regardless, this meant that it was a more lucrative show for them all than a typical bar gig especially since I think NAC shows are sponsored by grants (i.e., no booker or venue fees). Mielke's sold-out Burdock show could also yield an OK payday. Monstrosa's concert, with 4 full bands including Jess Roveda, Ever Since We Met, and Passenger Princess might only net each musician enough for brunch.

Working Nine To Nine

I worked remotely in Ottawa, but unlike Toronto, it wasn't practical to take a break and eating out at lunch. On Monday, I gave it a shot by returning to Dough Re Mi. Only 3 tables were occupied so having 4 employees (baker, owner, and 2 servers/baristas) didn't make economic sense. The pastries and desserts looked fresher today but I was here for the Manakeesh, a Levantine flatbread. There were several options and I was surprised that they were all under $10. Honestly, the price seemed a little low nowadays. I wouldn't be surprised if in a few months they increase by a couple of bucks.

I chose the za'atar and cheese classic ($5.25), and after a few minutes of reheating in the domed oven, it was brought to my table. The "middle-eastern pizza" was divided in half with each ingredient per side. The za'atar was tangy and it took a few bites before I started to enjoy the flavour. The cheese portion was an instant hit, slightly salty with a mild taste. The bread was good but not excellent because it was a bit on the dry side. Baking it to order might take longer but would it give more fragrance.

On Wednesday, I headed over to the Frys Guys for poutine. I visited them a few weeks ago to ask about their first ever camping trip which, unfortunately, took place during a torrential August long week-end. Business was a little slow so we had a long chat. One reason they became an owner of a chip wagon was the freedom to just chill during down times. They have worn many hats over the decades: nail tech, board assembler for Alcatel, hair stylist (courtesy of EI's retraining program during the dot-com crash), and now slinger of fries and hot dogs. It was often several different jobs for every day of the week. Though that was no longer necessary, they still switched over to doing nails at their friend's salon during the winter months. This was the secret of the "model minority" myth: a lifetime of pivots, making do, and a network of friends that allow an immigrant to "succeed".

Tuppence A Bag

With a forecast of all-day rain on Wednesday, I headed out in the morning to grab a breakfast wrap ($7.95) at Uncle Sid's. The street was full of parents dropping their kids off at the elementary school. There were a few cars but most came on bike or foot. This was the beauty of a dense urban neighbourhood. The downside was the gentrification, as can be seen by all the houses with new porches, windows, and other renovation. So I couldn't identify the ground-floor apartment of an acquaintance from my YMCA Yoga days. She paid rent as a personal Yoga teacher and a nanny (for mostly rich people's kids). I wondered if she still lived around here.

I asked the shop owner (the son-in-law of Mr Siddiqi) to cut my wrap. Stuffed full of sausage, eggs, and hash brown, half was more than enough. I could save the other portion for my trip back to Ottawa. I didn't get much work done before lunch from meetings. The company All-Hands lasted 90 minutes and I'm still not used to this gung-ho American spirit. I briefly encountered it from a short stint working remotely for a California start-up just before the dot-com crash. 26 years later and I'm still baffled. The chicken chengazi leftovers was reward enough for sitting through all the talking heads.

I went out again in the late afternoon and met an old man on the sidewalk. He told me with his strongly accented English that he knew my rental's owner didn't speak much English either. But he wanted to buy some "seeds" for his own garden. Looking over the verdant lettuce growing in the front-yard, I promised to forward his request, which I later did through AirBnB to take advantage of its automatic translation. On Tuesday, the tailor at Sew Perfect in Dufferin Mall promised that he could repair the hole in my backpack by restitching the panel. But upon my return, a different worker stated that, in his opinion, this was not possible. Well, one of these two was bad at their job.

I stepped inside Mont Bianca because its sandwich board touted Pappardelle Bolognese as a daily special. Since my last visit, they have changed the vibe to be less sports bar and more trattoria. But the price has also gone up. At $24, a dollar cheaper than Taverniti North, I wasn't disappointed that it was unavailable. I opted for the Rucola ($17) because the last few days lacked any greens and the Tonnarelli ($20). The salad was tasty with sharp pecorino, earthy mushrooms, and juicy cherry tomatoes. The main ingredient of arugula was only so-so. Most bites were bland, some were bitter, and only a few had that perfect balance of fragrant crispness. The hand-made pasta was nicely al dente. Its square-shape cross-section gave it a chewier feel than spaghetti. Chef couldn't hide with the simple cacio e pepe sauce. It wasn't quite at the level of Enoteca Sociale but it was decent.

Before I left, I lamented with the server that it used to be $10 for Pappardelle at Davenport and Christie. She actually knew of Annabelle's since I couldn't recall the restaurant's name. She pointed out that her and a roommate once shared a 2-bedroom for only $1500. In 2026, a two-plate meal with tax and tip set me back $50 and a 1 bedroom was $2100 or more.

In with the New

Tuesday morning, I visited my dentist but it was a dental hygienist who worked on me, possibly the same one from two sessions ago. They were diligent but slower at 45 minutes than my dentist who usually take less than 15 minutes (but charges for 45 minutes). This time they didn't ask about my brushing habits.

I had skipped breakfast because of the large dinner at Pho Linh. I was hungry early on but by lunchtime, I had a normal appetite. So a veggie slice ($5.50) from 241 Pizza was more than enough. Two school-age teens behind me, perhaps being their first time here, marvelled at the portion size for the price. The newer Freshslice advertised a cheaper (but smaller) slice at $3-3.50 but was empty inside. Maker Pizza has thrown in the towel for a Bangalore take-out called The Dum Spot. Mumbaikar also gave way to Byriani Flames and decades-old The Empire has bowed out to Grille and Wrap Express. The latter was still a shawarma place but they also offered rice, fries in addition to typical ingredients. The only winners were the landlords.

With the temporary closure of the Gladstone library branch, unhoused folks had to stay out in the sun. One woman slept in front of the A&W fast food joint; the one with the shopping carts sat on the side of the library with, alarmingly, a squirrel clutched in one hand; the old man, after my donation, told me to "keep loving her". Lovely advice but no one has ever asked that of me.

In the evening, I headed to the College Park for fancy food-court dinner at BHK Roll. Chef Saha was working so I got the delicious Chicken Chengazi ($21). The Jollof stall has closed, the Chinese Noodle spot only had 2 customers, and a Korean BBQ was set to open next to BHK. The only one doing gangbuster business was the combination Taco Bell/KFC.

While waiting for my order, an older Asian man nearby harangued someone on the phone to not be a "stupid Chinese" because there was no financial security here. The smart ones were heading back to Hong-Kong, Malaysia, and other Far East cities after a few years of scrimping and saving. Given how competitive it was over there, I would have thought the ones here were those who couldn't "hack it" over there. Case in point, before I left my long-time apartment, I talked to a new boarder who was making a go of it here (even during a pandemic) because Singapore work culture was brutal. Back at my short stay, I heard two young, Chinese women preparing dinner in the kitchen. Were they living in this rooming house to save up and return to the motherland?

In with the Old

On Labour Day Monday, I headed to Toronto. The last time I travelled during a holiday, the bus was packed. Although it was mostly full this time round too, I did not have to share a seat. This wasn't the first time some Mennonites boarded in the West End. They were likely heading back to the Kitchener-Waterloo area. But I wondered if they were visiting like-minded communities around these parts.

They weren't the only folks with a hankering for the past. Four young women, on their way to a concert in The Big Smoke (probably BabyMetal), also carried "vintage tech" in the form of a digital point-and-click camera and a CD player. The sad thing was that these were later models and not the shiny new hotness from my days. Those might be considered antiques.

At Kingston, with Fat Bastard no longer in "retail jail", I ordered a veggie burrito ($9.99). I also used its larger washroom compared to the bus. I blamed the harsh lighting because a ghoul stared back from the mirror. Early retirement? I looked like I was already a few years into regular retirement. 

I was back in Bloordale but I wasn't staying at the usual spot. However, this new location did share something in common with the former. That street included the gentleman's club named Club Paradise. My new AirBnB stay was on Margueretta, which also had a sinful den called The House of Lancaster. With the closing of Brass Rail Tavern and Club Zanzibar, Bloordale had the last two strip clubs in Toronto.

When I saw the second floor layout (plus the fact that the owner's hosting history was only 4 months old), I knew this was a rooming house. When I heard people knocking about in the kitchen next to my room, I guessed that there were still long-term tenants. This admixture was reminiscent of my stay in Montreal but even more intrusive. A quick search on the website showed that the owner had stop actively listing my room (no available dates for the next 4 months), probably due to noise complaints. A separate basement unit was still available though. The room itself was larger than some bachelor condos, but the other units on the second floor didn't seem as spacious. Mine would likely be the dining and living room in a normal house.

All in all, this reminded me of my 7-year stint in a similar situation back in the day. Unlike that room, this one had its own bathroom. The downside was its slovenliness. If you aren't fanatical about cleaning, don't be an AirBnB host. Also, why did I live for 7 years in a rooming house?! I was making decent enough money at a start-up. To be fair, I left that company unwisely and spent the dot-com crash years working a lower-paying IT gig. Still, even that wasn't poverty wages.

Perhaps this walk down memory lane also led me back to Pho Linh. This venerable Vietnamese spot was my go-to spot in those first few years. My main complaint with the "3-colour rice" dish (steamed egg, pork chop, and crunchy pork skin) wasn't the $17.50 price tag. It was that the portion was huge. Give me a half-portion, knock off $6, and I'd be thrilled. Though most people come here for the beef soup, this item was a secret gem because one, the flavours were quite good and two, they actually use "broken rice" (with its quinoa-like texture) while other restaurants usually substitute steamed rice.

At Lansdowne and College, I was surprised that the former car wash was already torned down. But it has been a year. Attached to the construction fencing was a sign touting mixed use retail and 9-story apartment building. A group of snarky teens passing by, looking around at the older homes, remarked that they must have taken a wrong turn into the ghetto. I must looked like a local indigent to go along with the area.

Into The Void

On Wednesday, the extended family gathered to bid farewell to my grandma's ashes. It has been one year since her passing. Originally, we had planned on bringing her back to the old country. My uncle, the one who sponsored us, wasn't keen on the idea. He wanted to bury her urn with my grandfather here in Ottawa. He also re-hired the priest, who was at her bedside on the final day, to perform a short ceremony.

My grandma wanted none of this. In fact, given her pragmatic nature, she simply wished to be scattered in a river or lake. Her reasoning was that no one was going to visit anyway. She wasn't wrong as I haven't gone to my grandfather's grave in 30 years. My younger cousins have never been since he had died before they were born. A few older relatives, like my mom, came by sporadically over the years.

On the walk to the lot, I didn't recognize any landmarks. His small headstone (all that we could afford back then) was hidden among the many larger ones in what once was an empty field. After the rite, I placed her urn in a prepared "vault box". Other people added flowers inside the container as well. We could have included other mementos but neither my uncle nor my mom, who coordinated with the cemetery staff, had informed us beforehand. Otherwise, I might have brought her favourite magazine or a keepsake. The box cover was sealed in place, the ground crew lowered it into the ground, and that was that.

We went for lunch at the nearby Boston Pizza. As a chain restaurant, it had space for the 18 of us and a choice of menu items. No one was familiar with "A Canadian company with an American name founded by a Greek sailor serving Italian food" as was emblazoned on the wall. So we started with 3 plates of beef nachos as appetizers. Some shared pizzas with names like The Meateor while the rest chose from the lunch menu various combos of pasta, salad, burgers, and fries. I covered the bill at $469.88 (tax + tip) and we agreed that the food was run-of-the-mill as expected. Some foodie cousins were intrigued to hear about Idriss, which would have been my choice if we didn't have picky eaters. The cousin who recently attended a wedding will be going to another funeral soon. A friend died young but his memorial will be at the decidedly more upscale Harmon's Steakhouse.