Category: Toronto (a.k.a. Accordion City)

“Trust me, you’ll really like this place,” said Pete, who was driving

us through a series of darkened streets lined with warehouses,

factories, industrial lots and not a single human being in sight. “It’s

an awesome restaurant that used to be downtown, but decided to keep

their costs down by moving out here.”

Jeremy looked about suspiciously. “Uh, this restaurant isn’t running out of the back door of a dog food factory, is it?”

We’d taken so many twists and turns through obscure streets from our

start near Don Mills and Eglinton that I had no idea where we were. We

finally turned onto a street that I recognized — Laird Road — and

there it was, nestled between an auto body shop and something equally

industrial: a restaurant marked Marvellous Edibles.

In this neighbourhood of factories and yards full of trucks, I was

expecting one of those greasy spoons that happens to make the world’s

most fabulous banquet burger. Instead, we walked into a place that had

the decor of a French bistro.

It was packed with customers, and all of them were tucking into very

delicious-looking dishes. I saw a woman enjoying what looked like a

glazed duck on a bed of noodles, while the man beside her appeared to

be enjoying some kind of tenderloin with garlic mashed potatoes.

Someone else was taking their first sip of a steaming bowl of

apparently homemade chicken noodle soup, brimming with noodles.

We managed to get a seat despite not having made reservations. Pete and

I ordered the pork chops with spetzl and

red-cabbage-and-caramelized-apple casserole. The pork chops (CDN$18)

were perfectly done, and covered with a creamy mushrooms sauce and

slices of giant mushroom, and the spetzl and casserole matched it

perfectly. Jeremy had the steak and frites (CDN$16), which he reported

were delcious. The frites came with a side of “Cafe de Paris” butter

for dipping. It’s probably the kind of thing that would make a

cardiologist scream, but it’s oh-so-tasty.

Dessert was equally fantastic. Along with everything else on the menu,

they make everything themselves, even the bread.  Jeremy had a

raspberry pie (CDN$7), Pete had a chocolate-raspberry mousse cake

(CDN$7) and I decided to have a slice of something they rarely

prepared: a cocount banana cream pie (CDN$7), piled high with

freshly-whipped cream and cocounut and packed with banana slices on a

thick shortbread-like crust.

I’m going to be atoning for this at the gym tomorrow.

The service is friendly, and the owner was going from table to table,

making sure that everyone was happy and making recommendations (he said

I should try their bread pudding next time).

If you like simple food prepared exceedingly well with the freshed of

ingredients in a nice bistro atmosphere, you’ll love this place. The

prices — pretty cheap considering the quality and generous portions —

will make you love it even more. It’s worth the car trip (it’s not

conveniently close to the subway), but be forewarned that the place has

a following — make reservations. For more details, take a look at their site.

(Special note to The Redhead: Next time you’re in town, I’m taking you there for dinner.)

Monday’s and yesterday’s sleep deprivation-fest ended with a standby

flight on the “red-eye” from Calgary to Toronto and an arrival time of

7:45 a.m.. Since The Redhead didn’t have to fly back from Boston until

about 7 p.m., I dropped her off at my house to catch some sleep while I

went off to work.

Then drop The Redhead off at the airport (always a sad thing).

Then back to work.

Then over to the hospital to visit Dad, who’s stable and resting in the ICU (long story).

Then over to my sister’s house for dinner.

Then home, where I got a call from The Redhead to tell me that she’d made it home safely.

Then fourteen hours of blissful sleep.

I’m no longer functioning on caffeine, willpower and autopilot and I’m

feeling pretty sharp again. Regular blogging will resume later today.

In the meantime, here’s some reading:

A Saddam Hussein impersonator comes out of his spider hole and back into business. Jerry Haleva, who played Saddam in Hot Shots (the first movie and part deux), Mafia!, The First 20 Million is the Hardest and The Big Lebowski, went into retirement last year at the start of Gulf Wars II: Clone of the Attack. Now that Hussein’s been captured, he’s decided that it’s appropriate for him to resume his most unusual hobby.

A snippet from the article:

But

now that Saddam is in the custody of the United States Army and is

awaiting trial for war crimes, Haleva feels ready to resume making fun

of the Iraqi dictator. “I have to be fairly selective on what I can do,

because of my real job,” he said. “But if the right opportunity comes

along and I have time for it, I’m always interested.”

The only thing that may stand in his way is Saddam’s scraggly new

beard. “Clearly, we have different grooming habits now,” Haleva

remarked.

Burbs vs. downtown. The

National Post is running a series of articles that “examines the

eternal struggle within all of us: the choice between the monster

suburban home with plentiful parking or the modest plot in the city

with the coffee shop around the corner.”

As you may know, I’m renting a

modest plot in the city with a number of coffee shops (and bubble tea

shops, for that matter) around the corner, and I respect the decision

of folks like my sister, who lives in the near ‘burbs with a large back

yard, which is great for her kids. I’m a creature of both downtown (most days) and

the suburbs (weekly visit with Mom, Dad, sis, bro-in-law and nephews) and have always had a fascination with cities and suburbs,

and this series of articles has piqued my interest.

Here’s the first article, Get me outta here!, and here’s today’s, Where everybody doesn’t know your name. I’ll probably throw in my own two cents later.

Have a good day, everybody!