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Featured
February 7, 2017

I am a Passenger

When I first signed the lease for my restaurant, the lawyer asked for some I.D. So, I presented him with my Ontario Health card. “A driver’s license is a little more typical,” he said. “Can…
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Featured
February 6, 2017

The Long Ride Home

It was only a short bike ride between The Beech Tree Restaurant and my home; a well-worn path along quiet streets that took me past handsome Edwardian row houses and large leafy trees.  The route…
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Featured
September 14, 2016

How Bar Isabel Cured Me of My Inferiority Complex

Back in the days when I was working in the kitchen, Chef and I would regularly belly ache about our outsider status---we simply did not register on Toronto's food-hipster radar.  We were (and still are) a…
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Featured
August 22, 2016

The Best Food Neighborhood In Canada

Many years before I opened a restaurant, I took the streetcar to and from work everyday. It was a lumbering, crowded sardine can on rails that  carried me, rather slowly, from the inner city to the outer…
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FeaturedPersonal Essay
August 15, 2016

Life, Death & Slivovica: the art of feeding a dying man

In many parts of rural Europe it is only the women who cook. Les mamans, las madres, le nonne; the matriarchs of families carry the recipes and then hand them down to their daughters, who…
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Featured
August 21, 2016

Smoke & Kudzu: my brief romance with the American South

A honeymoon never happened. Instead September 11th happened.  Our wedding was a bit of a shambles anyway; a paramedic had wheeled a gurney through the crowded dance floor midway through the event to collect a…
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