echo {con,in,{d,r}e}ception

I was having a BBQ at a friend's place. First, I marveled at the houses on her street. Who knew you can find suburban style neighbourhoods in Toronto? Then I was astounded by her news: she's pregnant again. This will be the 3rd child in 5 years which seems fairly remarkable for modern times - although I do notice that mothers around my local park usually carry in tow children quite close in age and sometimes more than two. I guess she'll probably be extending her stay-at-home mom status to at least another 2 years and counting. I find it a bit troubling as she studied to be a doctor for probably 10+ years: 4 years undergrad, 4 years med, and several years of residency. Consider how much money went into her education from taxpayers' money to subsidize the universities she attended, and to pay for the doctors, medical staff, and hospitals where she trained. On top of that, we need her skills. But I suppose in theory she can still contribute 20+ years of service in her lifetime.

I went into the movie Inception with anticipation though I hadn't heard much about it. However, the reviews seem to be all positive. But I was disappointed by the end. What was a great premise became just another shoot-em-up Hollywood film. Not too many spoilers but here's my complaint. The 2 main impetus of the movie are flawed: the reward Cobb anticipates for his inception job makes no sense, and neither is the reason why the job is harder than expected. The supposedly ambiguous ending is not at all, given the rules of the movie, and it's a disingenious for Christopher Nolan to suggest otherwise - or perhaps he overlooked the consequences to his own plot details. Finally, the possibility that the entire movie may not be real doesn't appeal as I've grown tired of unreliable narrator, time travel, and other movie tropes where things don't really happen because there's a built-in "undo". For another take on dream vs. reality, try Paprika.

On the other hand, I enjoyed Salt. Its premise isn't wildly original, but the movie executes it well. But the central mystery - is Evelyn Salt a good guy or bad guy - isn't really much of a mystery though given the standard Hollywood story arc. And if that's too abstract, it becomes rather clear that despite her furious take-down of her various pursuers (CIA, secret service agents, etc.), none of them was actually hurt - most are simply knocked unconscious. So nice of Angelina Jolie given that most them were shooting at her, but we can't have a good guy acting badly against "innocent" bystanders. She also looks too skinny to fight convincingly, unlike Sigourney Weaver in Aliens or Linda Hamilton in Terminator II. Ms. Jolie is a bit of an odd duck. I never found her to be the great beauty that the media has claimed: neither conventionally attractive like a Charlize Theron nor mannishly handsome like Julie Roberts or Hilary Swank.

At a small get-together, someone was telling a bad date story. Various guests commented on some particularly odd details, though I didn't contribute much, and 10 amusing minutes passed. Afterward, I was thinking to myself. If I was the story-teller, I would have summed up the tale in about 3 sentences. As the listener, I would have nodded and grunted: "That's a bad date alright." Having used up 1 minute, the remaining 9 would probably pass by in uncomfortable silence. And that difference is probably why I'm still single and don't throw dinner parties.

Won't You Be My Neighbour?

There are a number of regular haunts in my neighbourhood that I frequent for food: El Jacal for Mexican, Vena's for roti, Caribbean House for Jamaican, Rikishi for Japanese (or Mazz Sushi if I'm feeling light in the pocket) and so on. However, there are even more restaurants between Lansdowne and Ossington that I usually walk by. As the area is gentrifying, I decided that I better check out some of these other places before they disappear to make way for hipster-friendly hot spots. Yes, it hasn't escape me that since I only go to restaurants and not to other local businesses, it's rather ironic of me to decry hipsterism. In my defense, I own so little consumer goods that I can't use these other services.

The Empire is a shawarma place a few doors down from the defunct Paradise, once a repertory movie theatre. It's been around for at least a decade but I'm sure it has probably changed hands a few times. I've eaten there once about 10 years ago. Since it looks like every other shawarma place, I tend to pass it by. The $3.49 chicken wrap didn't interest me so I went upscale and got the $4.49 lamb wrap. To my surprise, the lamb was a juicy chunk of meat still wrapped around a bone. The meat is shredded and added to a large pita wrap (if you get it with the works). Quite a tasty and filling meal, though the second time the lamb wasn't quite as juicy. First time round, I got a salted lassi drink, which was a mistake as my taste buds simply could not get used to the sour + salty + silty flavour. Second time round, I grabbed the bottle of Coke (imported from the Middle East) I had spied on my previous visit. Not being a cola connoisseur, I can't tell you if it was made with cane sugar or HFCS.

South Indian Dosa Mahal is a non-descript (except for the bright pink walls) restaurant that specializes in thali platters, dosas, and a variety of fried food (to go) near Lansdowne. Customers look to be locals with a fair number of older indians in traditional garb. I usually get my dosa fix at Madras Masalas and only come to Lansdowne for some roti so I've given this place a pass. For my first visit, I tried the chapatti chicken thali which comprises 3 chapattis, 2 vegetarian curries, and a chicken curry. Everything was delicious except for the chicken. It had that greasy, cartilage taste of cheap meat. I should know - I've eaten more than my share of it growing up. You might want to try the lamb/goat or stick to vegetarian options. My second visit was a take-out of kottu roti: chopped up roti with egg and spices. A delicious and filling (2-day) meal when augmented with some vegetables and leafy greens at home. I shall have to return for the dosa (Dosa Mahal is ranked 1 spot higher than Madras Masala at blog.to) as well as the fried take-out.

Holy Oak came to the neighbourhood in March 2009. It is a small restaurant that does brunch on week-ends and have a dinner/lunch menu. It also hosts some local acts at night. As such, it caters more to the hipster crowd but I won't fault it for that. It reminded me very much of Grapefruit Moon down to the art on the wall, the mismatched tables and chairs, and even the estrogen-rich atmosphere (the owners and staff seem to be all women.) However, the brunch offerings were better prepared. I had an egg omelette with zucchini and eggplant smothered in harvarti, with a side of fruit salad and some herb-dusted potatoes. At $9, it's cheaper than Mitzi's on College though pricier than dear old Billy's Souvlaki House. I'll probably be back to try the organic beef sliders (mini-burgers).

Kathy's Kitchen serves country-style hungarian cuisine. This is stick-to-your-ribs schnitzel and other food low on greens and high on carbs and protein. I came for the chicken praprikash but they were all out. I settled for the beef stew on a dumplings. Some beef cubes were slightly cold and some were hot and a bit black - a sign of microwave reheating in my opinion. It wasn't bad but the reheating didn't do it any favours. The dumplings were actually little white balls of dough (photos here) and had no flavours of their own except to soak up some of the sauce. Without any vegetables, I can't imagine this dish (and others like it such as the aforementioned chicken praprikash) being a draw outside its original ethnic group. For dessert, I had langos, a fried dough slab (a bit like Ottawa's famous beaver tail snack) slathered in garlic and cheese. It tasted like a chinese You Tiao and a Vietnamese Banh Tieu. Fried dough always taste good, of course, but this was a little bit too much of a good thing. I'll head back here for one more round but nothing is really catching my eye here (except possibly Kathy's grown daughter). The owner mentioned to a customer that business has been slow. I wish them the best but I don't have much hope for this place - neither the food itself (e.g., Hungarian cuisine) nor their version of it hold that much appeal.

Good Doggy, Bad Kitty

I attended 4 shows at the annual Toronto Fringe Festival, where smaller groups can put on various dramas, comedies, and even musicals. Overall, it was a good outing with some interesting shows.

It did not start auspiciously with Metro, a collection of dance pieces that takes place in a subway: from workers rushing to work, to a budding romance between two strangers. Most of the pieces employed pop music which is not a musically interesting genre, though I have seen some good dance orchestrated to pop. There's a reason dance pieces on So You Think You Can Dance are only about 90 seconds long. The dancer/choreographer Linette Doherty may have extensive dance background but it takes more than that to be good choreographer. Finally, the level of talent is only so-so, with the self-taught hip-hop dancer being particularly underwhelming. He might catch the eyes of some ladies in the club but there are b-boys and pop-and-lockers on youtube that would shame him. The uninspiring choreography and middling talent led to some un-coordinated dancing and a lot of pantomiming. I should have left after 10 minutes even if I was in the front row.

The 2nd show called Plank was a more enjoyable experience. The group Femmes du feu employed their circus/aerial training using typical props such as rope and pole to portray sailors on the high seas. From impromptu contests up on the riggings and mast, to the danger of a storm at sea, their aerial skills accompanied by various sea chanteys convinced us there's a ship on stage. Later on, they became sirens who gyrated around the moon (a suspended hoop) and used the anchor as a trapeze. It was fun while the show played but afterwards, it was clear why this show never really took off since it premiered in 2008. It's too long and insufficiently awe-inspiring to be a "cirque du soleil"-like piece and yet not artistic enough to be a genuine dance show. Nevertheless, an enjoyable 45 minutes.

The 3rd show, Fairy Tale Ending, was the stand-out for me. This wasn't surprising as it went out to be one of the "Best of the Fringe" shows. A fairly large ensemble cast, who included some union-dues-paying professional actors, lived in a land perhaps far, far away. But their life circumstances, which resemble well-known fairy tales, don't end happily. A gruff female cop enlists the help of the only eye-witness, a wide-eyed girl name Jill, to get to the bottom of the alibis of the suspects: Big Bad Wolf, Goldilocks, and Troll. Over-the-top acting and fairly clever songs made it quite enjoyable for me, as well as the numerous children and parents in the audience.

The final show, Spank the Tiger, was also highly rated by the critics and a patron's pick. Unfortunately I have to give a reluctant thumbs down. A sketch comedy troupe composed of asian actors called Asiansploitation ran through quite a few sketches but there were more misses than hits. The first problem is that there was no theme to the overall show, which is acceptable if you are in comedy club, but not in a more theatrical setting. The second problem is the comedians seem unused to the larger stage: either engaging in barely audible mumbling or excessively loud screaming. Some skits were banal: polar bears who destroy their ice floes by driving SUVs and living wastefully; others had promise but petered out: a babysitter caring for a child who keeps saying inappropriate double entendres. Some of the best verge on the absurd: a worker whose lazy office-mates are being replaced by robots, a captured insurgent teaching a new interrogator the correct ways to torture.

This leads us to the main problem, the jokes weren't edgy enough. They were mostly middle-of-the-road sitcom when they needed to walk a fine line between offending and speaking uncomfortable "truths". Consider all those ethnic stand-ups who do "racial" jokes, thanks to their insider minority status. Asiansploitation didn't go there, except for 2 skits. I can understand they may not want to be pigeon-holed but when the alternative is a skit about a whiny authoritarian moderator of a book-club, you might want to play the race card.

And they did it twice. The first was a group of forlorn asian men, when faced with the prospect of an asian woman dating a caucasian man, broke into "I'll Be White For You" (sung to "I'll Make Love To You" of Boyz II Men). The second was a group of Toyota ad execs who try to convince Tiger Woods, since he has some Chinese and Thai heritage, to switch to being asian for his public image because of his recent troubles ("Being black's a bust, take a chance on us"). Both are reasonably amusing but, like most of their skits, lack bite. I can think of a number of of scenarios for inter-racial dating or multi-racial people that has a bit more kick.

Big Boys Do Cry

That's how I felt after I spent $80 at Big Mamma's Boy. The description was so intriguing: front patio, back patio, lounge, and a cozy dining room in a Victorian house. The menu uses naturally raised or organic ingredients (when possible) and the flour can be gluten-free. Unfortunately, this restaurants fits the old adage about "good intentions". Sometimes earnestness is so boring.

That was my conclusion after I had a couple of bites of their pizza. I picked the Cabbagetown, and it's not going to go on to my list of Best Pizza in Toronto nominees. What stood out for me was the bland, card-board crust. It reminded me of all those cheap, made-in-the-grocery store pizzas I had when I was young. Well, that's all well and good if you used to be a poor immigrant but dag-nab-it, I'm rolling in bling now and I want a pizza party in my mouth.

Next up was smothered chicken: skin-less baked chicken with mashed potatoes and greens. I'm not sure what was the chicken supposed to be smothered in, perhaps a tiny pillowcase to put it out of its culinary misery. I could only conclude this is what Shake-and-Bake must taste like. For even at our most string-purse-tightening-est, we did not partake of this North American tradition.

The final dish was beef lasagna. Lasagna is still a pasta. So it's particularly tasteless when you over-cook it to the point that it falls apart with a single bite. I like more chewiness to my carb. As a personal preference, I'd like a bit of a burnt taste to my cheeses too.

In any case, I'm going to pass on this Cabbagetown institution. Also, does the out-sized-ness belong to the boy or his mama?