Friendly Restaurants

Last Friday I met 2 friends at a restaurant in a plaza on Lawrence Ave. This place fulfilled our lunch requirements: it was easily accessible, and it had some interesting food items on the menu. The choices are vegetarian; no meat is served. But there are lots of fish options and interesting salads. And their specialty, bagels, are a good choice any time. Finally: it’s almost next door to Winners!

The 3 of us, and often another friend, have been meeting over food for almost 40 years. It all began at work. We were teachers at a high school and every Friday we would celebrate the end of our week with a drink and munchies at Diana Sweets. We called it Period 5. It was a place and time to shed our school issues. We heaved sighs of relief as we contemplated a couple of days to rebuild our strength and shore up our lesson plans. We began to relax as we drank vodka and orange juice and nibbled on quesadillas, and potato skins.

After we all retired, we stayed in touch. Diana Sweets closed down so we had to find other places to meet. Our days were free and we could meet any time; for example, lunch! One place that attracted us was Red Lobster. We discovered that their seafood chowder was delicious and the rolls were all buttery and warm. We could even ask for extras to take home. And the restaurant, located close to a highway, had a huge parking lot.

Another place that caught our eye was downtown on the subway; The Queen and Beaver Pub. It had a great menu with delicious salads. Because we were so healthy on the first course, we decided to try their sticky toffee pudding for dessert. WOW. It was out of this world. Which led us in another direction – a search for the best sticky toffee pudding in the city. We scoured the internet and found sticky toffee pudding at the Pickle Barrel. We tried 2 different locations but their STP was no match for the one we had at the Queen and Beaver. So we gave up and focused on something else: shopping.

Since we were retired, why not combine lunch and shopping? One of our favourite places to shop was Second Nature, a high-end consignment store on Mt. Pleasant Ave. We found some unique clothes there, even a wedding dress! But it took a lot of energy to browse all 3 floors. We needed to fit lunch into our plan. Lo and behold, there was a fish and chips store nearby.

Penrose Fish and Chips was an iconic spot; a family business started in the 1940’s. The entire family worked there, frying up the fish and rolling it in newspapers. Their menu was short – fish and chips and coleslaw. And maybe a coffee. Sadly, this historic spot closed down in 2014. We tried a replacement on Laird Drive. The fish was quite good but the parking was terrible and there was no transit or shopping. So we moved on.

One place that served well as a replacement was Swiss Chalet. The quarter chicken dinner with fries and coleslaw could always be counted on. The meals were reasonably priced and the restaurant had clean washrooms. It was our back-up when other ideas failed. In fact we went there so often that, when one of us was about to celebrate a milestone birthday, she jokingly mentioned Swiss Chalet. She was pretty surprised to see 12 of her closest friends gathered there on the appointed day.

Recently one of our group moved into a retirement apartment at Christie Gardens, so naturally we had to try out the restaurant. It’s large with bright windows looking onto a patio and garden. The meals are displayed on a table at the entrance, so you can actually see what you are going to order. The seats are comfy and the wait staff very friendly and patient. Three courses are offered: soup or salad, a main course and then a dessert trolley with many choices, although sticky toffee pudding hasn’t appeared so far. And there’s a small gift shop too.

This past weekend I finished reading the latest book for my book club. The story covers life in a Veterans’ hospital built in Toronto during the first World War. The story briefly touched on the food served to the vets – cheap, with little variety and cooked in huge batches. The ending shocked me: the hospital was torn down in the 1960’s and replaced with Christie Gardens! Too bad the vets didn’t get to eat there.

Sue

Christmas Visit

After a busy, fun-filled Christmas holiday, our houseguests, Beniamino and Anna, are returning to their home in Italy tonight.

As you can see from the photo, they came prepared for the weather. Besides down-filled coats, they had gloves, scarves, hats, ear muffs and boots. They ventured out almost every day. Only Boxing Day, with the heavy snowfall, deterred them. After a lot of frantic pacing, they gave up and accepted our offer to take them on the subway downtown to Sankofa Square. They held onto each other as we navigated the ice and slush, stopping at Little Canada, and enjoying the lights at the Eaton Centre and the 2 City Halls. Then we came home to relax with coffee and stories of Peter’s childhood village in Italy.

Beniamino soon got the hang of winter driving and the next day they were off again visiting relatives and friends. Their daughter and grandchildren, who were staying elsewhere with an aunt, joined them when their travels took them as far away as Canada’s Wonderland, and Niagara Falls. The grandkids got a huge kick out of Blue Mountain where they tried tubing, cross-country skiing and rope-climbing in the snow drifts.

During their stay, Beniamino and Anna made shopping trips for souvenirs to take home. They collected traditional things like snow globes of the CN tower, and maple leaf tee-shirts. Their favorite food souvenirs were maple syrup, peanut butter and Tim Horton’s coffee pods. They stocked up on paper plates and other stationary. They made a trip to Lee Valley for tube squeezers and other gadgets. Their bedroom got fuller and fuller.

We shared meals, mostly breakfasts, together. We learned that they prefer fruit and sweets like biscotti and cannoli, but one day they got brave and tried the breakfast that Peter and I eat every morning. That night they returned with strawberries and ladyfingers. Apparently our steel-cut oats were not a hit. Planning dinners was more complicated. Often they would call around 5 pm to say they wouldn’t be returning till late. Our fridge bulged with leftovers.

One day they found themselves here for lunch. They had anticipated this and bought a BBQ chicken and some asparagus which Anna planned to cook. It was a pasta recipe she had recently learned from her daughter who lives in Mexico. But she needed some tomatoes to make into a sauce. Peter gallantly offered his home-made “tomato sauce” which he neglected to mention also contains beef. While the chicken was warming up, Anna prepared her recipe of asparagus, garlic and olive oil. She stirred it lovingly as it simmering on the stove. Then Peter triumphantly dumped in his homemade concoction. Anna glared. It was the war of the sauces!

Peter and Beniamino had many spirited conversations, with Anna adding comments here and there. I could usually follow the topics but I rarely offered more than “si”, or “perfetto”, or “fredo” (which was a very useful word because it WAS cold every day!) But we did have one language default with greater consequences. On New Year’s Eve Beniamino and Anna were leaving for the entire day, beginning at 10 am. They were going to several events with various groups, and Peter got the definite impression that they were staying overnight at the last place.

As we got ready for bed aroud 11:00 pm, we turned off the lights and turned on the house alarm. Around 1:30 am our guests returned and unknowingly set off the alarm. Buzzers sounded and a commanding voice shouted “Identify yourself! The police are coming!” When I woke up and ran to the entrance, Anna and Beniamino were standing near the door, frozen in place, a look of terror on their faces.

Other than that incident, we liked having our holiday guests. We enjoyed their company. We shared lots of Italian baking and family stories. I re-learned a few lessons and some vocabulary from my Italian classes. Peter talked with long-lost cousins, and revisited a lot of childhood memories from his Italian village.

But, sadly, the Christmas season is over. Time to rest up, eat all those leftovers, and move on.

Sue

Toronto For Italians

A few weeks ago Peter’s nephew Beniamino and his wife Anna announced that were coming to Toronto for 2 weeks at Christmas. It seemed a strange time to leave Italy and travel to Toronto and our cold and snowy weather. But we will be excited to see them.

Beniamino and Anna have entertained us countless times when we have gone to Italy. They have housed and fed us, driven us cross country, taken us to historic towns, classic concerts, and beautiful coastlines. They have even welcomed our friends and family into their lives. We owed them so much. How could we give them a similar experience?

First of all we told local family and relatives about the visit and everyone was excited to contribute to this holiday adventure. Then I decided to use my blog experiences to choose the best places in Toronto for Beniamino and Anna to enjoy. We started with the Eaton Centre. What visitor doesn’t want to buy a few souvenirs to take home?

From there we could walk over to the “old ” and “new” city halls, built in 1899 and 1965. But then I remembered our visit to Rome to see the oldest structure there, the Pantheon, built in 27 BC. Maybe we could show them our New architecture instead. We could walk south to King Street and look up at the glass and steel skyscrapers sparkling in the sun and almost touching the sky.

The AGO, Frank Gehry’s masterpiece, might be of interest. The Galleria Italiana, a long corridor made of glass and Douglas fir that cures along the front of the building and connects several galleries, shows off nicely. And maybe we could take them to a concert at Roy Thomson hall, another great modern building where the acoustics would highlight the sounds of “Bravissimo, a night at the Italian Opera. But how would it compare to a concert we had seen outdoors on a starry summer night in the courtyard of Cassamare, an old Italian convent built in the 1200’s?

What was the best way to show off Canada in the winter? Someone suggested a trip to Blue Mountain with cross country skiing and maybe a sleigh ride in the woods. Or we could do a day trip to Niagara Falls to see the lights. But what would Beniamino and Anna wear? Would they own tuques and mitts? Did Italians even know about thermal underwear?

Then I started thinking about food. For sure we would take them to Eataly for shopping and a meal. One day we would have to visit San Remo, an Italian bakery with huge line-ups and mouth-watering veal sandwiches. Or there was Queen’s Pasta on Bloor St for an elegant dinner. At home I cold cook minestrone soup and make polenta casserole.

Then someone casually mentioned that maybe these Italian visitors would like to sample some other choices in the most multicultural city in the world. Perhaps some Thai food? Or maybe a trip to Greektown. Or would they like to try a steak house? Or possibly some spicy Indian food.

Then other cracks began to appear in my carefully planned agenda. Would they have room in their suitcases for the shopping part? Do they like opera? Had I left enough time for them to visit other cousins and family members they know here? Had I allotted any time to just relax with an espresso?

In the end I made lists – places to visit, things to eat, people to see. Then I put the lists away. When Beniamino and Anna arrive we will give them big hugs and make espresso. And let the days go wherever they take us.

Sue

PS Happy Holidays dear readers. I hope you’ll forgive me if I don’t write next Tuesday. I may be busy rewriting my lists.

Volunteer Appreciation

I have written before about the children’s book giveaway at our local food bank. But I have never told you about the main part of the activity – the food. As we approach Thanksgiving, it seems appropriate to do so.

The Christ Church St. James Food Pantry is one of the oldest food banks in Toronto. It has been operating since the late 1980’s when the church recognized a “temporary” need for food support for local residents. Unfortunately, the need is ongoing and has increased over 300% since the pandemic. The food pantry is non-denominational and welcomes anyone who qualifies for food support.

Our book table is in the lobby of the building, along with the registration desk. After registering, the clients go downstairs to a large room filled with tables holding food. Sometimes I take a moment to go downstairs and have a look. The place is a beehive of activity. Each table displays something different: vegetables, canned food, dairy products, meat, baked goods, even personal items such as shampoo and tooth paste. Food is given away on the basis of need and family size.

But the most obvious giveaway is the personal connection. One can only imagine the embarrassment and anxiety our clients feel – those who have lost their jobs, or have disabilities, or have surrendered their savings to a scammer, or have recently immigrated from another culture – having to ask for a basic need like food so that they and their children can survive.

Over 250 families visit this food bank. Most are greeted by first name. They are met at the registration desk with a smile and a willingness to sort out any registration or personal issues. Then they pass by our book table where the children can each choose a free book to take home. Going towards the stairs, they are greeted by an assistant who has learned some words of welcome in several languages. If they have trouble with the stairs, there is an elevator and an operator to help. Stories are shared about the weather, a new grandchild, or the latest Blue Jays win (Just thought I’d throw that in).

It takes more than 80 volunteers and 3 co-ordinators to run this food bank; organizing the staff, interviewing potential clients, collecting the food from various resources, and then sorting it and distributing it with fairness and caring. Last week we had our annual volunteer appreciation evening. It’s a chance for volunteers to enjoy one another’s company, share stories, and pat ourselves on the back for a job well done.

Last year in Toronto over 3.4 million visits were made to food banks by clients. The average monthly income is under $1500. About 30% often go for an entire day without food. In a wealthy city such as ours, this is tragic. For seniors who have time to spare, and an interest in staying connected and giving something of value to the community, a volunteer position at a food bank is worth considering.

Sue

The Spice Of (Peter’s) Life

There used to be very little garlic in my cooking world. It was a spice I used sparingly, not wanting to offend close friends and relatives with my bad breath. Until I met Peter.

In Peter’s cuisine, garlic goes into everything. He puts it on meats, in veggie dishes and salads, and especially on crunchy bread, where he rubs an entire clove all over the surface. It is such a favourite that he even grows it in his garden. He plants it every fall and then watches patiently as the cloves begin to sprout in the spring.

So when we read about a garlic festival happening in Toronto, of course we had to go. On Sunday morning Peter even skipped over a couple of sections of the newspaper just so we wouldn’t be late. We took the subway to the festival entrance on Spadina Ave, and then wandered up the crowded street. Who knew so many people love garlic?

On sale were numerous garlic products: condiments, preserves, oils, baking, wellness products, even decorations. Garlic growers competed for the attention of shoppers. Peter avoided the bad breath contest, and spent his time searching for free samples. He especially loved one booth that had crunchy bread smeared with garlic butter.

There were other interesting attractions – garlic talks, garlic face-painting, and a garlic poet. But we had timed our visit to coincide with lunch. We were overwhelmed with choices – garlic chicken tacos, vegetarian dishes enhanced with garlic spice, garlic hot dogs, garlic lamb on sticks. We finally settled on crunchy chicken skewers dressed with a garlic mayo sauce. Yummy!

After that it was dessert time. I had my heart set on garlic caramel ice cream. But the line-up was long. Just as I got to the front, the booth ran out of that flavour. The clerk said it would take 10 minutes to re-stock. I decided to wait, and Peter went off to look for other delicacies. The wait turned into 15-20 minutes and the line-up grew longer and longer. Soon the booth had sold out of ice cream entirely. What to do now?

I stood my ground, while Peter entertained himself with more free garlic bread samples. And finally – the ice cream supplies arrived!

YES – it was totally worth the wait – the perfect combination of sweet and garlic. When we go to the garlic festival next year, I plan to head to that booth first. Who says you can’t have ice cream for breakfast?

Sue

dobryj den

This is the Ukrainian greeting, a way of saying hello. I learned it at the food bank.

While handing out books to the children of our clients at the local food bank, I learned this and other useful phrases in Ukrainian such as “How old is your child?” Our clientele has changed a lot over the years that I’ve been volunteering. Instead of Canadian, or Central American or East Indian, most of our clients now are Ukrainian immigrants. They seem to appreciate my efforts to welcome them in their language.

When I found out that the annual Ukrainian Festival was going on in our neighbourhood this past weekend, I thought it would be useful and fun to try to find out more about their culture. Peter agreed to explore with me. We took the subway to the start of the festival at Jane Street, walked the length of the festival on Bloor, and took the subway back home from Runnymede.

The smell of food was enticing during the entire route. There were bake stands serving up delicious pastries, drink places featuring mango concoctions, BBQ’d meats and vegetables, and of course the staple, pierogies. I haven’t eaten a pierogi since I was in elementary school and my best friend was Ukrainian. Sometimes she invited me for dinner at her house and I still remember that flaky pastry, the melted cheese and the sour cream on top. Yum

As we walked along the street, we passed booths offering clothing, ceramics, immigrant services, flowers, and books. One section of the festival was devoted to children’s entertainment – a ferris wheel, guessing games with stuffed animal prizes, and throwing contests. The most common booths were those raising money for the war in Ukraine. Visitors could pay to fly a drone, or just donate cash. These booths all had big line-ups.

Entertainment was provided on 2 large stages; one at each end of the festival. The first one featured Ukrainian children singing and dancing in costume. Their talent was applauded and cheered, especially from the parents in the audience. They had such pride.

A band performed on the other stage. The conductor sang the Ukrainian words enthusiastically, but Peter and I were speechless, so we just clapped and smiled.

We were thinking about how brave these people are, that they can find joy in their lives even as their country is being demolished by Russian forces, and other nations are turning their backs.

Sue

Food For Thought

An acquaintance dropped by the other day for a coffee and, as he was leaving, he mentioned that he had to go to Bruno’s to pick up something for dinner. The he said “My wife and I don’t cook any more.” Just like that!

A couple of days later, as I was going through my recipe book and meticulously making up my grocery list, I found a recipe for BBQ’d chicken wings that I wanted to try. The recipe recommended using wings from COSTCO. In the COSTCO meat department I found the wings for $23.99. Right beside them were wings in the same sized package, which had been skinned and seasoned, for $27.99. Did I really want to buy all that skin and do all that extra work to save $4? Definitely Not.

Then I started looking around some more. In another bunker I found bacon-wrapped chicken medallions. I had tried this myself with bacon strips, tooth picks and chicken breasts, and what a finicky job it was. I picked up the COSTCO version and added it to my cart. I found some lamb chops on sale too. I loved the idea of these and other meats that Peter could cook on the BBQ, leaving no kitchen mess. Now I was on a mission. Salmon steaks? Why not!

I looked into another bunker and found peppers stuffed with ground beef, something we had tried once and loved. Then I spied a 3-bean salad – three kinds of beans and a vinegar dressing: lots of protein and a work-saver for me. And then, staring me in the eye was lasagna.

Now every cook knows that lasagna is one of the most time-consuming recipes on the planet. You need at least 4 containers – one pot for boiling the noodles, another for sauteing the onions, spices and meat for the sauce, and a third container for grating and mixing the cheeses. Then you need the lasagna pan for the oven, plus other spoons and measuring cups. When you’re finished, the kitchen looks like a death trap – with red splotches all over the counters and stove. The COSTCO lasagna went into my cart too.

By this time my cart was getting full, and I was feeling guilty. It was not so much because I was giving myself a break from tedious kitchen work. But I was thinking about my rule to “Buy Canadian!” Although COSTCO is an American company, there are a lot of Canadians employed in every Canadian warehouse. But what about the products? I went home and checked online. Here’s what I found:

COSTCO beef comes from Alberta. Lamb comes from Australia. Salmon comes from the Atlantic but where in the Atlantic is not clear. I have my fingers crossed that the salmon don’t want to be part of the US either, and probably swim to Nova Scotia to be caught.

But chicken? Chicken comes from a farm in Nebraska! How can this be? Chickens are pretty easy to raise. I have a friend who has chickens in her back yard for heaven’s sake. Anybody can raise chickens. How many chickens would I have to raise to get a meal of wings for 2 of us, plus a few medallions for the BBQ? Probably about 7. Plus the cost of the chicken coop and the feed and straw. And fighting off the coyotes in the neighbourhood. More problematic than cooking.

As for the 3-bean salad? Made in Canada! A small victory in my quest to make work in the kitchen a little easier.

Sue

The Grand Finale

Our curling season is done. And so are we.

Peter and I debated about whether to register for the Grand Mixed Bonspiel at our curling club. It was the last big event of the season, and the 50th anniversary of this particular event. Our weekend was free of other obligations. Plus, the big prize was a pair of red Muskoka chairs that would be perfect for our back yard. Why not sign up?

Because we are old, that’s why not! Playing 3 games in less than 24 hours is hard work. First you throw these big heavy rocks down the ice. And when you’re not doing that, you’re sweeping. Not like sweeping the kitchen floor – this is really Sweeping! And your boss is yelling “Hard, Harder, HARDER!!!”

We signed up anyway. How foolish is that? We would find out.

The first time that we felt we might have made a mistake was when we learned that we had been placed on 2 different draw times. Peter’s Friday game was at 7:30 pm, but mine was at 9:30 pm. This meant that I would be going to bed well past midnight, and Peter would have to sleep in a chair at the club waiting for me. Or I would have to drive home by myself in the dark. Both options were bad.

After we got that sorted out, we played our 7:30 Friday game, followed by drinks and chips – lots of chips. This was not going to be a healthy-eating weekend. On Saturday morning breakfast was served: doughnuts, muffins and coffee cake, with lots of coffee to drink. This meant a delay in the middle of the morning game while 7 curlers stood around waiting for me to go to the bathroom. How embarrassing.

Lunch was good: wraps with veggies on the side, along with more chips and cookies and alcohol. After that, Peter and I were ready for our afternoon naps. We searched around the club for some couches, but there weren’t even any comfy chairs. We tried out the prize Muskoka chairs and they were fine to sit in but, just as we nodded off, we heard he announcement that our afternoon game was about to begin. Slowly we lurched out of the chairs and shuffled our way onto the ice.

By the end of the afternoon game we were toast. But NO! Now we had to get changed into our sparkly clothes for the 50th Anniversary Celebration! Except Peter has no sparkly clothes and mine no longer fit. We put on non-curling pants and jackets and I stole a gold flower from one of the table decorations and attached it to my top. We were all set.

Next we were encouraged to participate in the raffle so, in support of the club, we bought 50 tickets and headed to the prize table. There were no useful items like heating pads, or pill boxes, or a visit to a podiatrist, so we ended up stuffing the tickets into bottles of exotic spirits, or tickets to more curling events; kind of hoping we wouldn’t win.

After we had used up all our tickets, we were served more chips and more drinks, while we waited for the dinner to begin. The food was delicious but it took a while to serve all 120 of us. The main course was followed by speeches thanking all the volunteers, and drawing for the prizes. Peter and I won nothing. By this time we had our elbows on the table, propping up our heads.

Then the host announced that dessert would be served; celebration cake with 2-inch thick icing. And the evening would continue with – dancing! We did manage to stuff down some cake but our old bodies were not up for dancing to “I will Survive” or rounds of “YMCA!”

It had been a great curling season with plenty of exercise and socializing, and a fun bonspiel to finish off. But it definitely was time for us to put away our brooms and go home. We need time to rest up for next year.

Sue

A Grand Sausage

High Park Club, where we curl on Friday nights, owes its existence to the Scottish game. Last Friday, when we visited, we took part in another Scottish tradition; Address To the Haggis.

The reading of this poem, by the famous Scottish poet, Robbie Burns, is the cornerstone of the celebration of Burns’ birthday, January 25, 1759. Burns was the son of tenant farmers and grew up living with poverty, hardship and manual labour. He had no formal schooling, but he taught himself the English language, well actually, the Scottish dialect. And the result was lyrics that are fondly remembered over 250 years later.

Many of us sang one of his best-known pieces, Auld Lang Syne, on New Year’s Eve. As young children, we may have heard parts of his Ode To A Mouse, a tribute to the small animals sharing his farmland.

The writing we recall on Burns’ birthday is his dedication to the haggis, intended to be read by someone, preferably of Scottish descent, as he or she escorts the mighty sausage to the buffet table. A bagpiper leads the procession:

“Good luck to you and your honest plump face, Great Chieftan of the sausage race!

Above them all you take your place. Well are you worthy of a grace!”*

*Then a wee dram of fine Scotch is used to toast the haggis.

The poem goes on to name the ingredients of the haggis, which might put you off your breakfast, so I’ll just say that they are chopped up and mixed with onions and spices, the more the better, and then stutffed inside the casing of a sheep’s stomach. Food was scarce in Burns’ life and no part of the animal was wasted. The haggis is often served with potatoes, turnips and cabbage, which help to mellow the taste. It is all very filling.

Besides his stomach, Burns filled his life with food for his brain. He wrote songs, learned some French and Latin, and eventually published a volume of poetry that was admired by farmers and literary critics alike. He worked hard to acquire the nuances of poetry writing. During his short life, (he died at age 37), he wrote so much popular verse that he was considered the patron poet of Scotland.

Burns also socialized a lot. He had numerous friends who met at local pubs and sang together. And he had a lot of female relationships including 3 marriages and several affairs. The result was 12 children. Burns’ biographers estimate that he has about 900 living relatives in the 21st. century. He certainly put that sausage, I mean haggis, to good use.

Sources say that Burns’ most famous living relative is Tommy Hilfiger. Tommy is the great, great, great nephew of the poet. Apparently Tommy does not publicize this kinship. In addition, there are monuments to Burns around the world. The closest one, should you wish to visit, is in Allen gardens in downtown Toronto. And you can find a haggis recipe online.

Sue

Monument in Toronto