Fields of Old

Thursday night at the Dakota, I went to an early show featuring 2 songwriters. The bar staff was easy-going with outside food. So I had brought in a Neapolitan pizza ($16) with Ontario prosciutto from Pizzeria Libretto. It was a bit messy to eat but a tasty dinner before the show.

Charlotte Cornfield opened the evening with wry songs about small town (Gananoque), session players (Side Man), and a disappointing love affair (Big Volcano, Small Town). I thought she had interesting observations and a joking wistfulness to her lyrics. But she should experiment more with either non-rhymes or unusual rhythm, because many of her verses ended a bit too on the nose. As such, to my ears there wasn't much to separate her from all the other indie acts.

Olivia Chaney is touring to promote her debut album The Longest River, though oddly she had no merchandise to sell. This record from the young folk singer is getting great reviews. Mediocre lyrics was not her problem as she drew from old classics such as Purcell's There's Not a Swain or the more modern False Bride. Her own verses such as King's Horses didn't quite reach those heights. Her guitar playing reflected her classical training with complex arrangements. Yet it can also be a weakness, at least for the casual modern ear, as the unusual structures lacked the simple cadence and beat of typical pop songs. Her training also meant that she couldn't abide out-of-tune instruments. So I wondered how she felt when she sat down at the bar's piano for a couple of tunes. Well, she fondly but exasperatingly decided to call it "The Henry Herbert".

There was a bit of serendipity to the evening. Chaney had wandered the neighbourhood earlier and passed by a clothes shop called Jonathan & Olivia. She didn't know any Jonathan. When she remarked how quiet the crowd was, a man shouted out from the back that we were all enjoying her music. When she asked for his name, it turned out to be Jonathan. Perhaps this little coincidence will make its way into a future song.

Hey Mama

For lunch on Thursday, I headed over to Mamajoun at Warden and Ellesmere. The name sounded odd, but it became clear when I came inside. Lahmacoun is a middle-eastern pizza-like dish with a thin crust and covered with ground beef. They had a variety of these "joun", as per the Armenian spelling, with different toppings. You added on some additional choices like olives or hot peppers, and they turn the whole thing into a wrap.

But I was more interested in their "Armenian pizza" so I got the cheese for $9. This turned out to be a thin-crust affair, although slightly thicker than a joun. I didn't love the crust, now that Toronto has a plethora of Neapolitan-style pizzerias with superior dough. But I did enjoy the toppings: generous amounts of goat cheese, sun-dried tomatoes, and bursts of lime. It was an unusual but tasty pizza with definite "Middle Eastern" flavour. You can also buy other Middle Eastern foodstuff from the common such as pita to rarer fares.

Space Jam

Sunday night, I headed over to The Burdock for some live music. The new-ish space seemed like a good place for smaller, more intimate acts. And they were reasonably prompt with the scheduled times. Outside of a venerable joint like The Horseshoe, most venues are frustratingly lackadaisical. So thankfully, opener L Con was only 15 minutes "late" coming on.

I caught them quite awhile back. They've been getting some buzz lately but as they don't advertise much social media-wise, I never know when they'll be playing next. In fact, I came upon this gig by chance. Since then, lead Julie Conway seemed to have modified a case to hold her collection of vintage drum machine and effects so the stage was much less cluttered. Backed by synth and bass, she played what she jokingly called "another song about space". Well it was spacey, with sparse beats and harmony, but very enjoyable. It wasn't quite chill-out music but definitely groovy.

Isla Craig took that groove and turned it into a slow jam. Borrowing the drummer and keyboardist from Tasseomancy, helped on vocals by Ivy Mairi, Craig played long, sexy songs that Barry White would approve. The kind that gets your upper body to start undulating in time to the beat. It wasn't quite white girl reggae, even if she gave a shout-out "to my soul sisters" on the last song, but the music sat in the pocket all night. Both acts tonight played great music and deserve bigger recognition.

The Sizzler

On Sunday, I was wandering through Chinatown after doing groceries. My favourite Chinese burrito joint wasn't open. Near College and Spadina, I came upon Indian Sizzler Kebab. This South Asian place was a bit lonely amidst the Chinese eateries. I have passed by it numerous times and usually see an empty place. So I have been skeptical of its bona fides. But the promise of a cheap lunch led me inside.

As I waited for my Chicken byriani combo (salad + soft drink) at $6.99, a steady stream of South Asian customers came in for take-out. It may explain why the joint seemed usually empty. Certainly, the formica tables and TV showing an Indian superhero movie lacked ambience. Lunch didn't start out very promising. The salad was a pedestrian affair, enlivened only slightly by applying some spicy chutney. But the rice dish was much better. First of all, it was an enormous pile of rice. Another reason for take-out, this works better as two meals. Fragrant and spicy, I thought this was better than Dindigul but it may be because the drier style was more familiar to me. Unfortunately, because of the cheap price, you didn't get much chicken. And it was on the bone to boot. But what I had was tender and flavourful. Sizzler certainly qualifies as a good cheap-eats place and I'll have to return to try their kebabs.