Caring Is Sharing

With the rising cases and stay-at-home orders, life trundled along. On Tuesday, after an overnight snowfall, I ran just before dawn. Looking at the blanket of snow covering the newly budded trees and the softly illuminated streets, I realized that I often forget how pretty the city can be.

I wasn't just up early for my health. Since I have been putting out food for the neighbourhood squirrels, they seemed to nose around the feeding spot earlier and earlier. My favourite was an old-timer with a scruff streaked with grey. Given a squirrel's longevity, I'm tickled that it may have lived here longer than myself. Sadly, it also had a slightly palsied back leg and a tendency to fall over. I can sympathize: infirmities eventually afflict us all, my friend. But I hope you are enjoying the new bounty.

Caravan Café and Mannat has been added to my list of regular cheap eats. The former because of the $8 mac-and-cheese (despite its initial flub) and the latter for the chicken biryani. At first, the $20 price tag felt high. But the generous portion, amounting to 2.5 meals, and tasty flavour had me convinced.

Despite my initial enthusiasm for Gonzo, I'll probably skip it under most circumstances. I can't justify a small yakisoba that is 90% noodles at $13 when compared to that mac or the $9 veggie bibimbap from Roll and Bowl. The over-fried kakiage tempura this time around didn't help. Gonzo joins its Japanese brethren Tsu Chi (and to some extent Coo Café) on my "maybe-if-I-can't-think-of-any-other-place" roster.

I continue my weekly indulgence of pastries from Barbershop. I'm not a dessert person but the buttery options here are quite excellent. Also, I want the store to succeed because from Instagram Stories and some casual chats, I knew how hard the owner is working to make their dream a reality from challenging beginnings. I still think it's a tough slog in this area, but every little bit helps. 

Girl In The Box

It was shorts weather on Saturday as I made my way to Geary Ave. Unfortunately, there was a long line-up for empanadas at Gaucho Pie. I kept walking along this street past Dufferin. The western stretch of Geary hasn't gone through much gentrification and was anchored by furniture chain store The Brick. Amazingly, there were 3 tiny competitors on the other side.

Passing by a partially occupied loft building for sale, I noticed there were signs for food delivery pickups in a parking lane. Perhaps there was a ghost kitchen around the back? Nothing so grand. In the forlorn back lot, there were two metal trailers (run by Reef Neighbourhood Kitchen) sitting on cinder blocks. Through the tiny pick-up window, I saw a woman making Wendy's food. The other kitchen handled the other 5-6 "restaurants" on the sandwich board, all had some variation of burgers, fries, or wings in their name. What a depressing work environment.

That evening, I sat down at my laptop to watch a show from the Women From Space festival of experimental music. In 2020, they had shows at The Burdock and Music Gallery just before the pandemic shutdown. But this year the festival went virtual. You could watch the show through a Holobox to get that Star Wars hologram effect (or perhaps early 90s video game Time Traveler). But the DIY kit was unavailable at this late date.

Last year's performances started with some unsatisfying noodling but ended strong. It was the opposite this time around. Laurel MacDonald sang over layered sampled vocals and effects, her lyrics inspired by the verses of Montreal astronomer and poetess Rebecca Elson. Perhaps not very experimental with its atmospheric pop vibe, but a fun start. Anita Katakkar and Aki Takahashi improvised with tabla and shamisen and Japanese folk singing for an otherworldly set.

The final 2 acts weren't as fun. DJ SlowPitchSound, synth-player Laura Barrett and dancer Mairi Greig collaborated on an improv set of ambient music and modern dance that dragged even if I have enjoyed their individual efforts in the past. I loved Sarah Thawer when I first heard her on the Tubes. But her frenetic drumming tonight reminded me of those downtown buskers who bang plastic buckets; they don't stick to one thing for more than 10 seconds either. Her interaction with saxophonist Tara Davidson was less a copacetic synergy and more of two people taking solo turns. Unfortunately, I dislike this sort of (often typical) Jazz wankery.

Buono Got Back

The thick-crust pizza at Milano in Ottawa is middle-of-the-road. So I was surprised that new-ish Italian joint Buono in Toronto, replacing Pray Tell at College and Ossington, offered Milano-style pizza! Milano wasn't just a made-up Italian name?

I dropped by Thursday for a margherita. There was no patio because rising cases from the Covid variants have finally convinced the provincial government to legislate stay-at-home orders.

It came out with a thick, but soft, crust and much better tasting than chicago-style. The top layer of thick mozzarella was rich and gooey, although the cheese could use a touch more flavour. I also wished the focaccia-like crust to have been infused with olive oil although not to the same level as is typical. Essentially because the fresh, but strongly tangy, tomato sauce dominated the taste, I wanted a bit more punch from the other ingredients for balance.

The only disappointment was that a long, crusty edge was only on one of the 4 slices. Though I ordered a full pizza ($18) compared to the slice option ($9.50), it was obviously that this was part of a larger pan pizza. Maybe mini-pans don't work, but more of that crunch would have been welcomed. With the total close to $25 with tax + tip, this pretty pizza won't win against Maker Pizza (on the fancy end) and Fresca (for the cheap eats) for my dollar.

Go, Man, Go

Around this time of year, I sometimes snag a box of kesar or alphonso mangos flown in from India. It was a revelation the first time I ate these superior cultivars. But the stores that carry these are near my work-place and I have been working from home during the pandemic. So when I found out via Instagram that a NoFrills at Bathurst and Wilson carried 6 types of mangos, I hopped onto the 7 Bathurst northbound on Monday to check it out.

Last summer, I had gone as far as St. Clair to visit Cedarvale. Although this area had a strong Jewish presence, it wasn't really visible. But as the bus headed further north, synagogues, kosher shops, Jewish schools and businesses became more prominent. However, this road was so car-centric that it didn't feel like a distinct neighbourhood (compared to Koreatown or Little Italy) until I saw Hasidic men wearing shtreimel.

As the bus neared Wilson, I saw more and more Filipino businesses. Then I was finally here at the supermarket. Looking over the mango selection, I ignored the ubiquitous but pedestrian ataulfo as well as the sour green mango. I finally selected red mango (another cheap variety), spice, sweet, and juli. But the helpful cashier informed me that my sweet mangos were actually ataulfo that were mixed in and to double-check the sticker next time. So I ended up with only 2 new types as I have also eaten spice mangos before: a slight let-down for my trip.

For years, I had heard about the great Filipino food around Wilson. Since I was now here, I took a look around. There was Kabalen which I was told had incredible chicken adobo. But although 2 men were outside barbecuing pork and chicken, I only saw a selection of food-court-style ready-to-go dishes inside. The same was true of the other eateries in that strip-mall. I didn't end up trying any food.