A Tell of Two Cities

After a recent encounter, family suggested that I could temporarily relocate back to Ottawa during these uncertain times. I was amenable to it since I could see elderly relatives more often and even started making tentative plans after a long chat with a sibling. I began clearing out old and unused items from my place. Despite living a monkish life, I threw out bags of stuff and still had several bins of personal belongings. Compared to anyone else, it was sparse. But my youthful days of being able to leave with just a suitcase was over.

Thursday night, I felt tightness and an ache down my left side and needed a short Yoga practice before bed to loosen up. The next morning, I knew anxiety had caused that bodily response. I took a walk through several neighbourhoods to settle my thoughts. It became clear there were 2 competing visions. Ottawa, in the large, had family and security but the day-to-day was dull. Toronto, in daily life, was pleasant (like this walk), but featured isolation and precarity in its overall arc.

I grabbed a slice of pizza near Spadina Ave and talked to the proprietor. Their story was similar to many immigrants to Canada. In the early 80s, they bounced around the slum tenements of Parkdale before their family escaped to the green lawns of Mississauga. After decades of hard work, their children now lived comfortably in Markham and elsewhere. The Canadian winter was hard on their bones and they thought to flee its windy clutches for a few months every Christmas.

I decided to get a little pick-me-up and enjoy the sunshine. Mango Like Desserts has taken over from Pink Canary at the entrance into Kensington Market. After looking over its menu, I chose the Mango Grass Jelly Rainbow Mochi ($8). As the name suggested, it was a colourful concoction. I couldn't really taste the coconut milk and the main texture was chewiness. But it was a nice, light follow-up to that pizza. This small shop was also the downtown site of Ida's Cookies.

Little things like greasy pizza, long-acquainted owners, and new discoveries make daily living enjoyable in The Big Smoke. But come night-time and I think about home-cooked meals and blood relations. "Summertime and the deciding ain't easy/Summertime when the Covid is nigh".

Siri, Where Is Flavour Country?

 Starving Artist and Boom Diner have been serving brunch side-by-side around College and Ossington. But despite being there for more than a decade, the elder Boom closed up shop during the pandemic. I noticed that a Thai restaurant called Siri Kitchen took over recently. I'm fond of that location because in the early 2000's, a cool Jamaican bar was there. It served food I have rarely found elsewhere including Jerk Salmon and a refreshing house-made pink fruit punch. At a time when that block was all local Portuguese businesses, that bar was ahead of its time.

Thursday night, I dropped by to order some Tom Yum soup ($7.99) and Gang Keaw Wan ($15.99). The former was a bright red, rich soup with tasty chunks of king oyster mushrooms (which I thought was tofu at first glance) and shrimp. It had a nice heat that slowly builds instead of being too spicy. Meanwhile, judicious bites of the cherry tomatoes help cleanse the palate. The broth was thicker than typical and I was spitting out kaffir lime leaves and galangal all night. But that was a small price for the added flavour.

The green curry was also thick and fragrant in comparison to other restaurants that serve watery curry. It also had big pieces of crunchy bamboo, soft winter melon, and toothsome chicken. The rice was a tad mushy but it still had enough texture to absorb the delicious curry. Overall, Siri is a welcomed new contender for best Thai restaurant in the area.

For Your Information

On Saturday, I met up with a friend for brunch. Since restaurants weren't taking reservations, we met at Brunswick and Bloor to maximize our chances of finding a spot on a patio. We settled on the Middle-Eastern café By The Way. Unlike my recent restaurant eats, you had to register your phone and email info for contact tracing purposes.

We were served by a very gregarious server. I'm usually stand-offish about instant chumminess but perhaps the extended isolation has made me more open to friendly interactions. I opted for a Shakshuka entrée ($18) and a strawberry and rhubarb tart ($8). The version of this dish here was heavily tomato-based and came with two poached eggs. Although I enjoyed my brunch, the Shakshuka came in last when ranked against other local ones. The dessert had a nice mix of texture and flavour. A light wrap-up to brunch but not worth the price.

My friend elaborated on their recent epiphany regarding finances. The strategy was propounded by William J. Berstein and Jack Bogle: a slow and steady approach to building a retirement nest-egg via a balanced set of investment buckets and ETFs (Exchange Traded Fund). The authors also had advice about sunk-cost, the long view, financial discipline, etc. It seemed as good an approach as any. But I forgot to ask them how this translated to their plans to "retire" early. Even if they started decades ago (which was unlikely), Berstein's advice only claimed 15 years of retirement funds (the other 10 would come from government aid) for 25 years. Furthermore, this was meant for a retirement at 65. Where would regular income come from? Did they mean to generate it from selling ETF shares instead of re-investing everything?

Limp Biscuit

On Friday, I dropped by Madras Masala at Christie Pits Park again. With Toronto in stage 3, perhaps the restaurant had reintroduce sit-down dining? No such luck, it was still only take-out. However, guests could eat their meals on the patio since tables were set up for use. There was even a cooler of ice-water and paper cups on hand.

So I ordered a dosa masala ($10.99). The Indian crepe was folded up inside a styrofoam container with the chutney sauces, sambar soup, and potato filling in separate cups. It was a wasteful amount of one-use items but plastic reduction has taken the backseat since the start of the pandemic. The entrée itself was only a partial success. It was nice to finally taste a proper dosa after these months. But it could not retain the crispness and most bites were soft and doughy.

After an afternoon nap, I visited a house north of Dufferin Grove to look at a possible residential move for me. I was unsure about it since this new location included a room-mate. But the apartment itself, occupying the 2 top floors, was gorgeous. It was partly from good foundation including hard-wood flooring. The landlords, who lived on the main floor, obviously kept it in good shape. But the current tenant had a major hand in it, too. They had furnished it with welcoming accoutrements from comfortable sofa to homey kitchen table to a collection of well-maintained plants.

I was won over by the idea of a ready-made Eden to replace my current minimalist set-up. But I didn't love some privacy aspect. Though there were 2 bathrooms, one for each of us, they were next to each other instead of being on separate floors like in my imagination. But mostly it fell apart because my prospective room-mate was lukewarm to my approach. I wasn't ready to give notice to my landlord until I had a promise in hand. I guess my cautious ways instead of, in their words, a "leap of faith" was a turn-off. In real estate, as in romance, lack of commitment will kill the deal.

Update (Dec 2020): I have been obsessing over rental ads during the pandemic. Over the last few months, I realized too late that this unit was a rare gem. There has been none that matched its qualities (except for ones that were much more expensive).