It’s nice when there’s a not-so-hot day in Toronto during the summer. Krish was off for his phototherapy and we said we would meet afterwards. This takes some discussion about where we will go, but we settled on King Street East without much of a plan other than Krish mentioning the amazing almond croissants that we’d had some years ago (it was closed that day – a Wednesday) a possible pizza place and perhaps go into Toronto’s First Post Office.
I started my journey and changed to the College streetcar. This is now familiar to me. I love the Alice mural and I had a bit of a wait – also becoming too familiar. There was a lovely smell of baking nearby and I wandered over to a small bakery – Janelle’s and Southern Accent. The latter has meaning to me. The restaurant Southern Accent was undoubtedly my very favourite in town. It was Cajun and Creole and the owner prided himself on having taken the staff down to New Orleans every year to make sure they knew what the food was supposed to taste like. Later in New Orleans myself I didn’t have any food like it, but then I couldn’t get Cajun food so I won’t know how alike they might have been. Southern Accent had a lovely vibe – dark with coloured lights over the bar, cosy with two floors and some nice private alcoves with curtains to draw, with a Zydeco backing track. The server would come and explain the dishes, help you choose, and then bring them to you, always smiling. And it was delicious. Like most places, it fell on harder times, the menu shifted a bit and then the street was redeveloped. They moved, but never made a real success in their new spot. Portions had become smaller, more expensive, and the vibe just wasn’t there – none of it.
However, Janelle was pleased I was buying the spices. I asked her why Southern Accent. She said that they had been her neighbours, hadn’t survived the pandemic, but had befriended her. Good thing too. Janelle was also pleased to hear me ask about her still-warm scones. ‘I’m known for my scones,’ she told me with that broad Toronto accent where the ‘o’ sounds are different. I vowed to go back, ate the scone at the streetcar stop until my ride showed up.
Each time I come to College and Ossington I see the Alice mural. It remains the best street art in the city for me. I want more like thisScone and some blackening spice from Janelle’s
After meeting we started off at Queen Street. I wanted to take a look at the construction for the Ontario Line there. Things are fenced off and there are ‘guards’ around but no work was going on. This is going to take a long, long time to complete – estimate is 4.5 years but no one expects this to stick. It’s the latest transport controversy for Toronto, and there are many of them.
We also took a little detour into the Eaton Centre. Those flying geese overhead looked lovely but my photos just won’t capture the detail no matter how much I play with editing. It feels like this flock of sixty has been flying up there to who knows where for a very long time. Flightstop was installed in 1979 and was crafted by Canadian artist Michael Snow.
We don’t walk east that often. Yonge Street is the major divide in Toronto. Streets that run off from there are numbered at zero and there’s East and West. Like most cities there are people who love one side of town and those who love the other. I’m a West person in Toronto (East in London, but you knew that). But this time we headed east to see what we could see.
Love a ghost sign. I looked it up and Loew’s was a theatre chain back in the early 1900s. This sign at Queen and Victoria, on the Elgin Theatre, had deteriorated but in 2022 it was restored to its original appearanceI was struck by the two spires so close together. At the front is the Metropolitan United Church (The Met, founded in 1818 as a small wooden chapel and now relocated here to open in 1872. It has a special recognition for its acceptance of all genders) and at the back St Michael’s Cathedral BasilicaNot sure how clear this is but the gate of the church is in the form of two stone churchesA close up example of facadism in the making. The piece of building at the front is the old Richard Bigley building staying up at what will be Richard Bigley Lofts. I wonder what Richard, who sold the Happy Thought line of stoves (“‘Grate’ Happiness at Home” promised an 1885 ad in the Globe newspaper)
I asked Krish if he thought there was more construction going on in London or here in Toronto. He thought Toronto probably had. Anyone know? We were looking at a pizza place but it wasn’t open yet, the sun was shining down at full force now and we just moved along. Continue reading “Toronto Old Town”
Some years ago I went on a Toronto cemetery tour to visit during Black History Month. It sounded interesting because we would be visiting the graves of prominent black Canadians and abolitionists. I learned a lot and I liked how the areas where most of these graves were had a casual feel, like a local village graveyard. It was on my list to visit again and, since my brother and his wife were in town, it seemed a good place for a touring suggestion.
I think his photos are better than mine, but I haven’t stolen them. I have instead stolen some history for my captions – begging forgiveness for that theft. Think of it as flattery. My brother, John, is my loyal reader and editor and today he’s my unknowing co-blogger.
I wish I had a better memory or had done more research before going this time. I couldn’t find a single grave from that BHM tour. Many of these graves are just markers, as you’ll see.
The cemetery is the Toronto Necropolis. From John’s notes: “The Toronto Necropolis opened in 1850 to replace the Potter’s Field (the Strangers’ Burying Ground) which had been since 1825 the first non-sectarian burying ground in the town. The chapel, lodge, and lych-gate were built in 1872. The crematorium here opened in 1933 as the first in Ontario — 32 years after Canada’s first cremation, in Montreal.” Interesting that it really wasn’t that long ago and this puts some perspective on how very recently the immigration from the south by the underground railroad actually was.
Toronto may pride itself on its multiculturalism and ability to live alongside many cultures, but racism is real here. Some of the stories, while stirring, were stories of immense courage amidst prejudice. I probably shouldn’t talk too much about something I can’t even show here, but despite not finding the graves, I felt their presence during my walk.
It was a very hot day and the cemetery is a good walk from the bus, but we made it, passing through Cabbagetown with its many beautiful houses. Around the cemetery they seem particularly picturesque and for some reason I don’t seem to have taken many photos. Was it the heat? My phone battery? Did they not ‘click’?
1866 Gothic Revival house on Sumach Street. The exterior has been made ‘quieter’ since several years ago when it had 18 different trim colours. Gothic Revival is a very popular style in CabbagetownPark Cafe on Sumach Street. I was tempted by ice cream but avoided the calories This doesn’t look like a city cafe at allJohn and I were amused by these two signs so close together. It felt like we’d walked for a while and there was another long hot road to get along nowThis is the very lovely chapel at the entrance. It was built in 1872 in the Gothic Revival style popular throughout this area.Looking east from the chapel and just past the lych-gate is the caretaker’s cottage, which I somehow missed photographingEnter through the lych-gate, where the coffins would be set and later brought through for the burial. Lych is an old word for a dead bodyInside the lych-gate
More than 50,000 people are buried here. The graves are somewhat haphazardly placed, which adds to the atmosphere of this cemetery, one of Toronto’s oldest. There are some notable people in this place, although most are known only to Canadians: Anderson Ruffin Abbott, the first Black surgeon born in Canada, honoured to be part of the medical team that tended the fatally wounded American president Abraham Lincoln on the night of April 14–15, 1865 – his house was on the street where we lived in Parkdale; and Peter Matthews and Samuel Lount, the rebels hanged for their part in the Mackenzie rebellion of 1837. You’ll also find George Brown (one of the Fathers of Confederation and founder of what is now The Globe and Mail, and whose name graces one of Toronto’s best known colleges) and Joseph Bloore (a fierce looking man, who founded Yorkville Village. One of Toronto’s main streets, Bloor Street, is named for him.) The first person to be buried here was Andrew Porteous. The cemetery’s registry says that his body was stored in the “Dead House” until it was buried on May 22, 1850. He had been Toronto’s first postmaster. You won’t find his grave easily. It’s been eroded over time so that only the base remains.
The cemetery seems orderly compared to the last one I saw in London (Abney Park), but it has an intimate feelI’m going to guess these are cremated remains. This marker looks very different to the others in here, almost like a catalogue
It really was a hot day. I hadn’t brought any water. I had wandered over to the back of the cemetery to see if there was any sign of the graves from my last visit and I looked to see houses I’d remembered from that time too. Only they weren’t there. My memory must be faulty, or I was too hot and tired to wander to another corner to discover them. Walking back towards the entrance, there was a tap. A man in a wheelchair was filling up his water bottle and I remarked that he knew all the good places. He winked and said he did, and this was his favourite filling station. I managed to get a nice, cold drink before we walked on.
Can’t finish this without talking about how much I love the old, rough grave markers. I hope I’m not alone in that. Most of the graves have become anonymous, the engraved letters long since worn down. There’s a sadness but also serenity in that.
The way in is also the way out, so I had to stop cursing about retracing my steps and get on with it. Across the road is the Riverdale Farm, with its animals. There were some cute pigs. A child asked an attendant what sort of pigs they were. ‘Tamworth,’ she answered. Without even thinking, I remembered a lovely meal at the Smoking Goat in Shoreditch and said that ‘their meat was delicious.’ I don’t think John will ever quite forgive me for uttering such blasphemy ‘in front of a child no less.’
Suitably told off, I walked with him back to the main road, passing many houses that will fall under the ‘things I didn’t photograph’ category. Each garden was green and full of colourful, often wild, flowers. At the main road, Parliament, we chose our route home and had to wait some time for a bus to arrive. I took the opportunity to buy a cold drink and linger much longer than was polite in the air conditioned shop. A scorcher in Toronto and our tour was done.
Many years ago I crossed the bridge over the Don Valley Parkway to see what was there. Bloor Street becomes Danforth Avenue here and everyone calls it The Danforth. At the very start of Danforth Avenue I saw a Greek restaurant and in I went. What I remember was that I was the only woman in there. There were groups of men sitting with coffees and smoking (that’s how long ago it was, smoking…). I hadn’t much of a clue about Greek food so I asked the server what I should order. He led me into a small kitchen and started to tell me what was simmering in each pot. I loved this experience and didn’t have it again until I went to Porto a dozen years ago or so. It was just as thrilling then.
I remember I chose a lamb stew with artichokes and lemon. I also ordered a Greek salad (sounds like a lot of food now, but I was keen to try things) which arrived as juicy red tomatoes, red onion, cucumber, black olives, and topped with fresh feta cheese and an oregano dressing. No Greek meal I’ve had since then has measured up or even pleased me, although years later I found a place near College and Yonge Street who grilled calamari perfectly. So yes, this blog starts and ends with food.
I don’t really remember walking along the Danforth much after that. It got the name Greektown for the people who lived there. This was once the biggest Greektown in North America, and although the Greek population and Greek-run business have declined, people of Greek descent are still the largest ethnic group here. The Greater Toronto Area (GTA) boasts about 2% of its total population are Greek, the highest concentration in Canada. If you’ve seen the original My Big Fat Greek Wedding, you’ll have seen the neighbourhood masquerading as Chicago’s Greektown.
What I remember for the most part about the area is the Playter Estate where my sister shared a tiny apartment while still in art college (grand houses), a lovely fancy grocery store that I couldn’t find on this new visit, and a very popular little mall with a good health food store called Carrot Common that I didn’t visit this time either. I’ve been along this street a bit, but it’s never been an area that I was desperate to visit. Here it was 2023 and it felt like it was time to go back and see what changes there were.
I didn’t see any reference to why Danforth Avenue is known as The Danforth, so fill me in if you know. I did find out that it’s named after Asa Danforth Jr., who was originally commissioned to build a route that headed east from Scarborough towards Trenton in the 1850s. At first it was known as Danforth’s Road and was well used until nearby Kingston Road became the more popular passage between Toronto and destinations to the east.
We got out at Chester Station and walked over to the main street. It’s an easy journey just one train all the way from the bottom of our city block right across Bloor Street until it becomes the Danforth. The subway line is called the Bloor-Danforth Line and stretches from west to east right across metro Toronto.
I had two goals – to find the grocery store and to find some grilled calamari that was as good as that College Street version. Food! Greektown is about food, it’s true for most people. As usual, I set my goal low knowing that it would be warm and it would be more walking than I could easily manage. I hoped there were benches.
We arrived at Chester Station, ready to exploreThe Danforth looked bright and clean. It felt like a bit of a treat to be walking along this obviously more well-heeled areaAlthough I didn’t find my fancy grocery store, I did find Rowe Farms so we browsed and came out with nothingThese butchery displays always remind me of Spain. In Rowe Farms
Does the area look Greek? Well, some of it does, I suppose. But then I’ve never been to Greece. A Greek friend who saw the street sign photo was very puzzled. ‘Why,’ she said, ‘it says Logan Avenue in Greek. Why? Where is this?’ So I needed to explain that this was common in Toronto – for street signs in ethnic areas to be displayed in both languages.
My first glimpse of anything European didn’t look Greek at all but this Italianate bell tower a short distance away. It surprised me
The area on and around Logan Avenue has luxurious views. At the Danforth it starts at Alexander the Great Parkette with its ATG statue and fountain, columns and flowers. Built in 1994 it’s considered to epitomise ‘the local flavour’. The streets then branch northwards into the Playter Estates, an area to consider for a cooler day’s stroll.
Street sign in English and GreekThis vista was somewhat breathtaking to me, really. I wished I had the leg power to walk down the entire street. Green, sumptuous and I suppose wealthyAnother view of the same street. The first one must be very small in your view
We kept walking along the street and met some construction. Roadworks are plaguing Toronto and creating many transit diversions, but the Danforth has a subway and no bus so it’s a bit less of a bother. We got closer to the Italianate church and visited the faithful Dollarama, window shopping along the way. We were finally getting hungry, but hadn’t seen anything that beckoned us in.
Sign across the road right where the construction was. The street hosts the Taste of the Danforth each year in mid August. Traffic will be halted and the street will be full of Greek food and celebration
The most impressive building is definitely the church whose bell tower I had spotted earlier. It’s a Catholic church called Holy Name, established on September 11, 1913. In August 1914, construction of a proper church began only to be interrupted when, that same month, World War I was declared. They could do no more than lay the great cornerstone on November 14. Services were held in the basement, the only completed part of the building, until in 1921 a hall was built, then in March 1926 the main church was finally finished and opened. Today the church conducts services for the African Catholic community along with its other services.
A bit annoyed that I didn’t take more photos Holy Name church (the one with the bell tower). It was quite majestic.
I’d done some research into where you could get good grilled calamari and nothing had looked like it could promise more. So we retraced our steps when the way ahead seemed to thin out from interesting shops and sights. At first we went into a place just to see what they might offer but it felt too formal and fancy, so we went to the place I’d read about. No room on the patio so we went inside. If a place can be judged by how busy it was, this would be OK or better.
The busy patio where we ate lunch. It was more casual hereDips as a starter. Taramasalata, hummus, tzatziki, baba ganoujGrilled calamari with onions and a lemon wedgeThe lamb chop with more tzatziki
OK. So the review. The dips were OK, and the pita was pita. Compared to our dips at the Paramount, the dish fell short. As soon as the calamari arrived, I knew I’d be disappointed. There was no charring. This looked bland and tasted that way too. It seems fresh onions or leeks were normal with this dish. We ate it because it was in front of us. No more than that. My favourite lamb chop recipe is a Greek Canadian one from Toronto chef Christine Cushing. I’d replicated it in the land of cheaper Lamb (UK) and it was always perfect – thanks, Christine for the video lesson. This chop wasn’t as good as the one I’ve made myself, so although it was nice to have it, I always prefer when I buy something better than I can do myself at home. So this meal gets a 4/10. Sorry! (Yeah, I’m a harsh critic but it’s my money after all.)
We walked a little bit after our meal, over to Broadview Avenue at the beginning of the Danforth. We considered ice cream, rejected it, admired Danforth Church from afar, and were ready to go. My legs were done, and so was our visit to the Danforth.
This impressive building is Danforth Church, known for its inclusivity and very active community involvement
Cornhill, first mentioned in the 12th century, is a ward and a street in The City. The street goes between Bank and Leadenhall Street. Cornhill is one of the three ancient hills of London, the other being Tower Hill and Ludgate Hill. This was the site of the Roman forum of Londinium, and later a corn market, which gave the area its name. Here also was the first underground public toilet, which cost 1d, creating the term ‘to spend a penny.’ Today, the street is associated with opticians and makers of things like microscopes and telescopes. To me, it’s just a beautiful street with some stunning architecture.
Finally we reached St Michael’s Cornhill, but before we went into the church, we wandered down St Michael’s Alley. At the bottom is The Jamaica Wine House, known by locals as The Jampot. The red sandstone building dates from 1869 and was designed in art nouveau style. Many of the original features are still here, On this site in 1652, London’s first ever coffee house opened. Samuel Pepys was one of its earliest patrons. There’s a lovely detail from the original coffee house, Pasqua Rosée. At the back there are medieval courtyards.
At the back, a glimpse of St Michael’s Tower
With not much time before evensong begun, we went back to the church.
In front there is a beautiful war memorial.
DURING THE / GREAT WAR / 1914–1919 / THE NAMES WERE / RECORDED ON THIS / SITE OF 2130 MEN / WHO FROM OFFICES / IN THE PARISHES OF / THIS UNITED BENEFICE / VOLUNTEERED TO / SERVE THEIR COUNTRY / IN THE NAVY AND / ARMY + OF THESE / IT IS KNOWN THAT / AT LEAST 170 GAVE / THEIR LIVES FOR THE / FREEDOM OF / THE WORLD.
The two parishes of Benet (short for Benedict) le Fink and Peter le Poer (thought to be a reference to the poverty of the medieval area) were united to St. Michael’s upon the demolition of the former church. But ‘le Fink’? Not sure about that
For those who love historical and architectural detail, St Michael Cornhill was built over the northern part of the great Roman Forum. It’s a medieval church with the original building lost in the Great Fire of London, leaving just the tower. It’s been in existence since 1055 and was under the patronage of The Drapers’ Company during the 15th century. The present Gothic Revival style church is attributed to architects Christopher Wren (there’s doubt about that), with Nicholas Hawksmoor between 1669 and 1672. The tower was designed by Wren and Hawksmoor in the ‘Gothick’ style between 1718 and 1722. It has twelve bells cast by the Phelps Foundry of Whitechapel. Sir George Gilbert Scott, architect of the Midland Grand Hotel at St Pancras Station, remodelled the interior in the High Victorian manner between 1857 and 1860. It has Tuscan columns and still has pre-Victorian features, with panelling and sculptures dating from the 17th and 18th centuries. The Church escaped serious damage in the Second World War and the interior was restored in 1960, with the roofs and the nave of the tower being renewed in 1975.
There’s a very interesting organ in the church. It’s built so that two parts join at a 90 degree angle. The sound was very full, but the recording I made didn’t bring that out so I was disappointed. There have been some famous organists, some serving the church for many decades. The present organist has been there for over fifty years, a fact Krish and I found quite astounding. It must be humblng to sit at the organ and play on it knowing how many other hands have touched the keys and produced music. I’m a bit sad that my recording was so poor because it was an unusual piece being played. I did find this video online that may very well be the sort of music I heard – not your normal choral sound. It’s too bad that there is a focus on hands and feet and no pull back to see the organ itself.
In this photo you can see the right angles of the organ
The Geffrye museum has finally reopened (June 12), except now it’s called Museum of the Home and, as with any museum at the moment, you have to book ‘a slot’ to go in. Luckily for me, it’s close to home and also very close to my physiotherapist.
People have questioned me, Museum of the Home, what does that mean? Built in an area that once boasted many furniture makers, in almshouses from 1714, it originally showed ‘the middle class’ interiors through time. As well, there were always modern exhibits of how people lived in their own spaces. When the museum closed to renovate, there was an opportunity to put a bigger focus on the latter. The larger space can now house events and classrooms.
I have gone to the museum over many years and I’ve done the almshouse tour. But my favourite has always been Christmas time. And before Christmas I’ve gone to the wreath workshops, then afterwards to the Twelfth Night celebrations. I went soon after they closed for a hardhat tour and was really looking forward to seeing the finished renovation. The links are all to past blogs mentioning these visits.
On its very first day of reopening, the museum encountered opposition.
There has been a lot of controversy about the statue of Robert Geffrye which stands outside. Geffrye had connections with the forced labour and trading of enslaved Africans and it was money from his estate that allowed the building of the almshouses that now house the museum. There has been a demand for the statue to be taken down, indeed all statues and memorials to those involved with slave ownership. Despite the protests, the museum’s Board of Trustees decided in July 2020 to leave the statue where it is and contextualise it. The day of the reopening, there were protests by Hackney’s Stand Up To Racism group.
I wasn’t sure if our visit might be disrupted by the protests when we went the next day, but it was quiet.
There’s a new entrance now, at the back of the almshouses, by the Hoxton Overground station. We arrived by bus at the front of the almshouses so had to walk around the block to get in. I believe that there would normally be an entrance from that direction, but like many places the museum is operating a one-way system – so in at the back, out at the front.
HRNX art seen from Cremer StreetMolly’s Café, on the corner of Cremer and Geffrye Street, is now the museum’s café. It’s in a once-derelict Victorian pub, The Marquis. It’s named after Molly Harrison, a museum curator and educator in the 40s and 50sAs Victorian as Molly’s Café is at the front, the back is 21st century (notice the clear ghost sign beyond it)Gordon Fabrics ghost sign on Cremer StreetOn the right is Hoxton Overground Station, in the left foreground is Molly’s Café, and further along – opposite the station – the new museum entranceThe entrance to the museum is the lovely atrium where the café used to be. We were greeted by a young woman who checked us in and sent us on our way
We started on the lower floor, on the one-way system. This lower floor is what was made during the renovations. It features how people live and what home means to them, in terms of culture, religion, and comfort. During the hardhat tour I couldn’t imagine what would go in there but many old spaces had been uncovered and I really like this ‘new’ area. The chance to see how everyone creates their own space is really welcome.
Ethelburga Tower is an exhibit I had seen years ago at the museum. There’s a nod to it here. The exhibit showed how identical council flats in a tower block (apartment building) were used and furnished differently by each tenant. I find it fascinatingA collection of floor/vacuum cleaners throughout time
One of the most fascinating things in the museum is the John Evelyn Cabinet, purchased by its owner in 1644. Sounds like it was in the V&A before. I wouldn’t want it in my house but it’s an elaborate work of art, which would make any cabinetmaker cry with envy. Its description is as elaborate as the woodwork, but in brief it’s an ebony veneered oak cabinet made up of many drawers, fourteen of which were secret. It was probably bought in Florence during a European ‘grand tour.’ John Evelyn was an English writer, gardener and diarist. I’ll let you read more about the cabinet yourself. If you’re a cabinetmaker, you can read about the construction in detail here. For me, even without its astounding appearance and construction, it is of significant importance. In 1813 diaries were discovered in one of the secret drawers. They were published in 1817. Although Samuel Pepys’s diaries are more celebrated, Evelyn’s diaries came first and probably prompted the attention given to Pepys’s. I’ve read neither so there’s a challenge!
John Evelyn’s Cabinet. My photo won’t do it justice so check it out from this page.In this room you could play classic videogames on an old TV setMe being me, this is my favourite thing downstairs, a doll from the almshouse time. Maybe not an artifact but a new one, but I love it
