I’m back from Toronto. I miss my clean, empty hotel room with its crisp white sheets and view of the city.
This afternoon I spent a blissful 2 1/2 hours wandering down Queen Street, through Chinatown, past the Ontario College of Art & Design, where everyone wore great-fitting jeans and cute blazers with hip, poufy scarves and rode bikes and had perfect skin…
to Kensington Market.
I bought cheese – Wensleydale, as a coming-home gift for W, who adores Wallace and Gromit and loves to say Wensweydale in the cutest sort of way, and a thin wedge of emmental – at the same cheese shop my mum brought me to when I was little and we lived there. I bought a glossy, tawny sesame seed bagel at the Market Bakery, and walked past the fish mongers, recalling having walked through that same stretch when I was pregnant and had a bionic sense of smell, and the aroma coming from that cluster of fresh fish shops had me hunched over the gutter.
And I’m pretty sure I saw Bob Geldof running to get into his car before he got a parking ticket.
I also saw a bright orange squid bra in Chinatown. Honestly – doesn’t this look like it would feel ultra-realistic? And with tassels! You’d just have to get past the smell…
And impossibly cheap produce – 5 pomegranates for $1? Three heads of lettuce for $1?
I stopped for lunch at Little India on Queen Street, temptingly close to John Fluevog, and ate spinach paneer, curried chick peas, sweet, almost ketchupy butter chicken, lamb something or other and crispy zucchini pakoras. A great deal for $11.
Back home past 7, the boys had eaten so I settled on a wedge of gingerbread I made earlier in the week using pumpkin puree and stout (like Guinness, or any dark beer) and topped with cream cheese frosting. Time to unpack, repack, and get some stuff done before heading to Vancouver tomorrow before dawn.
And wow, look at that, well past midnight already!
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