Toronto shopping when you’re a foodie

Thursday, 30 May, 2019

I make no secret of the fact that Toronto disappoints me in many food (when it comes to shopping) arenas. There are lots of reasons for this, and the price point is probably the least of these….maybe. But we can talk about prices – sure we can! They’ve skyrocketed.

I do expect, after being away for a while, to find prices higher. However, this time the trajectory has alarmed me.  I’d say that most things are about 50% higher than I found them in 2016. So the pork tenderloin i bought for $3.75 in Chinatown this week cost me about $2.25 when last I was here. Of course, this price is pretty fantastic, no doubt of that. However, to find lettuces at $2.99, cauliflower at $6.99, asparagus at $4, bread at $4-5, chips at $4 a pack – these things do alarm me.

However, I do have to eat so here’s a bit of a pictorial essay of my shopping experiences so far. There’s enough time to document more!

Closed up Chinatown
These shops at the North West corner of Spadina and Dundas are slated to go. No idea how long they have sat there but it looks really scruffy and neglected so far. New condos on their way?
Quiet day at the Chinatown supermarket
Abnormally quiet day outside the supermarket in Chinatown. Rain keeps the crowds away and there’s been a lot of it.
Inside the Chinatown supermarket
Inside the Chinatown supermarket. I got a pork loin, some hot sauce, and some frozen shrimp and pork dumplings for dim sum. Oh, and these tomatoes (next photo)
Tomatoes in Chinatown
I don’t like buying the much-picked-over things in Chinatown but there were freshly placed, reasonably priced, and actually looked good. Tasted OK too!

I’m not fond of the readymade food in Toronto on the whole but there are certain things I can’t get elsewhere or they are ethnic foods that Toronto somehow does so very well.

Portuguese snacks
I’ve missed this sort of readymade food – a variety of Portuguese snacks in Little Portugal – takes me back to Lisbon

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I really don’t like to fly

Wednesday, 15 May, 2019

You know those cool dreams where you can fly? It’s never cool for me.  I have no desire to be able to fly, actually fly using my arms, or getting on a plane. That’s me. I first flew in 1967. I was a new Canadian immigrant and I wanted to go back to London. This desire got stronger when my parents announced they were relocating to Los Angeles. I was 20 so I wasn’t going to be allowed in without yet another emigration application. I was just getting used to Toronto, I had a boyfriend, and my heart was still in London.

So I saved money every week for a charter flight. I had never flown before but somehow knew I wouldn’t like it. And I didn’t. There were only narrow-bodied planes in those days, no seatback videos, or tablets or mobile phones, but at least they were jets. I was incredibly relieved to  land and dreaded the flight back. When that day came, we were delayed, only to be told that our plane was out of service and we would be going home on a jet propeller plane, 13 hours of flight. I wanted to leave the airport but I hung in there. The flight was bumpy, very long, and had a refuelling stop in Gander, Newfoundland, which I remember as very foresty and the greenest sight ever from the sky.

I’ve flown a lot since then. I’ve also attended Fear of Flying classes. I cope – sometimes better than other times. Nothing takes away my fear completely. There’s no 100% guarantee of a safe landing no matter how prepared or educated or reassured you may be – and that’s that. And on the 15th of May I was flying to Toronto – an eight hour flight with British Airways (not Air Canada, who had become my lucky charm over the years – they never crash!)

We were all packed for our very expensive flight – prices have pretty much doubled in the past several years – and we felt remarkably calm. I amused myself with watching Krish’s packing. My own carry-on case was considered ‘a mess.’ Well, I felt OK with it.

Krish's packing
Krish’s cases are always neat and tidy, the usual Tetris formation with all clothes neatly into plastic bags. The red item was my last minute addition to spoil the display

My carry-on
My carry-on case of the things that can’t fit anywhere else, trying to emulate The Master but ‘it’s a mess.’

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