Some Oldies, Some Goodies

Just a quick follow-up to a few new places that made it on my regular rotation. Firstly, I returned to the Thai restaurant Crystal Thani in Little Italy. Their lunchtime billboard clarified that the items in the seafood section were $14 for lunch. Fair enough since they regularly go between $18-20. But they have also dropped the lunch special by another dollar to $11 for all other dishes. This time, I had the Malaysian-style fried rice dish Nasi Goreng and it was definitely a good lunch.

Nasi Goreng

Murgh Khas Awadh

Likewise, Spice Indian Bistro still impresses. An independent confirmation: a co-worker took her meat-and-potatoes partner and her elderly mother and they had a great dinner. My own second visit was slightly disappointing only in the sense I chose the "wrong" dish despite chef Saha's warning. The Murgh Khas Awadh was tender chicken breast, lightly spiced, and stuffed with cottage cheese. It was wonderful but too delicate and mild on its own, and would best serve as a "side main": something to cleanse and reset the palate between rich dishes. White chicken and cream on white byriani rice and naan, I felt like a one-person dîner en blanc.

I'm not feeling the love for Mediterrania. It wasn't quite the make-me-a-pasta lunch, but I did get one portion of oven-baked pasta. There was hardly any cheese and the rigatoni fell apart. I was scooping up broken, soggy fragments from the take-out container. Also considering how much plastic is used from bowl, lid, fork, and bag, I felt like a rolling coal-er. I'm giving it one more chance with the homemade (grass-fed) beef lasagna. Then we'll see if it's better left in the past or not.

The Words In The Tones

St. Anne's Anglican Church is a heritage building on Gladstone Ave near Dundas St. W. in Little Portugal. Although it has been part of Toronto's Door Open festival, and I suppose open to any worshiper, I have yet to step inside. I'm not usually motivated to visit a building simply to look at it but to experience it in use.

So on Sunday afternoon, with a concert being held there, I found my opportunity to have a peek. The main space was dominated by a large dome decorated with paintings and murals. It was certainly the most ornate, "ordinary" church I've seen and inspired some amount of awe. The British woman behind me remarked dismissively to her friend that the ostentatious display was unsurprising (and perhaps a bit gauche) for Anglican churches. I guess I haven't set foot in too many of them.

The Toronto Beach Chorale is a 60-member community choir based in The Beach neighbourhood. This was their first concert outside of their home base. The show was divided into two parts. Before the main showcase of Carl Orff's Carmina Burana, we heard a collection of mostly Hungarian folk songs with English verses and 2 short piano pieces. The songs (Brahms, Bartók, Seiber) were representative of the interest in "authentic" folk music with the rise of 19th nationalism and the piano pieces demonstrated Orff's influence on 20th century composers (Scarponi's Lullaby Song and Glass' Étude no. 4). This was the milieu in which Orff's folk primitivism found success. I wasn't fully convinced of the examples today. This first half had the whiff of filler material. But it was a pleasure to listen to un-amplified singing and musical instruments.

For the showcase cantata, the chorale was joined by 3 guest soloists (Christina Lamoureux, Michael Dodge, and Matthew Cassils) as well as the TorQ Percussion Quartet. It started off electrifyingly with the famous O Fortuna passage. The remaining 60 minutes or so couldn't quite compete at that level of attention. There were moments of beauty but 2 pianists instead of a full orchestra made some sections a bit bare-bones. But Orff obviously knew you need to close out strong so O Fortuna returned at the end, leading to a standing ovation from the audience.

With this show, the chorale hoped to attract new audiences from outside its turf. I do wonder how many west-enders, for example, came by. Given what I know about shows with "local bands", I suspect with 60+ performers, most of those in the audience were friends and family. Nevertheless, looking over their history, it looks like they have become more musically ambitious over the years. So kudos to them for continuing to grow.

Wave-Particle Duality

Saturday night, I went to see The National Ballet mixed program. The classical short Marguerite and Armand was book-ended by two contemporary pieces: a remount of Wayne McGregor's Chroma and the world premiere of Crystal Pite's Angels Atlas.

Firstly, the middle piece seemed the odd-one-out for tonight. But supposedly Karen Kain acquired performing rights for it as a retirement gift for principal dancer Greta Hodgkinson. A dying courtesan relived events from her past: notably the tempestuous love triangle with Armand and the duke. I'm not so fond of these dramatic stories revolving around male anger and possessiveness. Also I thought Liszt's piano sonata in B minor was wonderful but the orchestration was so-so. But the dancing between Hodgkinson and Guillaume Côté was beautiful.

Both contemporary pieces used light as metaphor and physical force. In Chroma, the dancers' were inside a white box-like enclosure and brightly, almost mercilessly, illuminated. To orchestral arrangements of The White Stripes' songs with elaboration, they moved with inhuman speed and contortions. On this second watch, I was particular taken with a sequence where the light had shifted to blue during a pas de deux. The spotlight on each dancer created a sharp shadow twin on the floor. I wished when the dancers joined up that one of the spotlight could have been turned off to maintain that crisp projection instead of a blurring of the shadows.

For the last piece, Pite's new work was supposed to showcase innovative light manipulation. It wasn't quite as cutting-edge as the hype but it was undoubtedly a critical component. The backdrop often had slowly moving clusters and showers of light arcs. It was like watching a lightning storm or a meteor shower slowed down to human-level perception.

When the piece started, the dancers laid prone on a darkened stage as tendrils of light drifted down toward them. Perhaps emotionally primed by Tchaikovsky's Opus 41 No. 6: Cherubic Hymn, it felt to me like watching the moment when the spark of life, whether a supernatural gift or a metaphorical representation of human awareness and intelligence, entered their bodies. Throughout the piece, the light-work seemed to be generated from the life-force and movement of the dancers.

It was unusual to see pairings in Pite's work given the insectile synchrony in her piece Emergence. But these gave room for vigorous spins and lifts. There was still exciting sequences of formation dancing performed with precision and power. At first, it was vibrating arms and torsos in time to electronic crackle. Later, body undulations animated the dancers. Often, a quick wave of movement would propagate rapidly back and forth among the group. There was a slower transmission near the end where human contact created a branching cascade of fallen bodies. I watched this spread of shared grief or perhaps more ominously contagious death and couldn't help but think of the current headlines about pandemics and quarantine. It was an engaging new piece in The National Ballet's repertoire.

Crunch Time

Each Christmas I try to minimize my search for gifts by buying for most people on my list from the same store if possible. Usually, I pick one that is only found in Toronto. One year, it was Uniqlo; another year: Muji. Last year, with the opening of Italian food emporium Eataly, about half of my family got fancy olive oil, imported pasta, and tasty spread. Since this 3-story shop also had several restaurants, I thought I would return to try their fresh food.

On Saturday, I came in just before noon. I only had one hour to spare so I thought a quick pasta or pizza might do. But all the restaurants were full up. I finally settled on the Romana-style pizza at the by-the-slice Pizza Alla Pala counter. I had it to go because even general seating was packed. I got two slices: a radicchio e cipolla ($5.20) and a margherita ($4.90). The latter was pretty bad with heavy, congealed cheese. The former was better with a mix of red and white onions, mozzarella, and radicchio. A sprinkling of parmesan balanced out the bitterness of the "Italian chicory". There was a sweet aftertaste of balsamic vinegar to cleanse the palate.

So that was a hint of how good it could be even if overall, it still wasn't great. These slices suffer from 2 fatal flaws. Firstly, roman-style pizza is crusty with not just a thick, crunchy edge but a firm, browned bottom, too. I first had it at (defunct) Lo Zingaro a few years ago. I'm doubtful this style of pizza should be reheated. Secondly, this counter doesn't even warm up the slices in the pizza oven. They used something underneath the check-out. It was probably a small oven and not actually a microwave but it didn't turn out much better. It only made the crust harder while leaving the cheese still cold.

Yes, the chef was constantly putting out new pizzas. I suppose you could be a shrewd/hard-nosed customer and always pick and insist on the newest slice. I also saw a lady walk by with an entire box. If that wasn't just for convenience because she got several slices, and you could order an entire pizza, then that could work. Otherwise, with some slices at almost $8, I wouldn't consider that a good deal for this mediocre food.

I didn't expect my first taste of Eataly to be so poor. I'm pretty sure the actual restaurants are better. Certainly, my purchases from groceries/dry goods turned out great. So I'll probably give it another go but realistically, it's low on my list.