Every Decent Neighbourhood needs a good...

Grocery Store

I was delighted to find a No Frills in Gerrard India Bazaar. This is my store of choice when taking into consideration the cost of groceries but sometimes, let's face it, we trade affordability for quality of produce. I was hugely impressed, therefore, by Dave's No Frills at 289 Coxwell Avenue - my first (and second) impression has been excellent - both because of the quality of the fruits and veg, and because of the overall cleanliness of the store. The layout is standard "No Frills" (it was therefore very easy for me to find exactly what I was looking for) and the service has been (in my limited experience) very swift, with the number of cashiers sufficient to meet demand.

Click http://www.shopnofrills.ca/ontario/oneStop.aspx to find your store hours and your most recent store flyer.

Heeeeeeey Neat!

This prolonged winter, with its cold temperatures, grey weather, and mountains of snow, can dampen even the most jubilant spirit. One treatment to combat these seasonal blues, is to get outside and get some sunlight onto your face, and what better way to find out more about my new neighbourhood than a destination-less twenty minute jaunt? Actually, I did have some idea of what I wanted to go see; on one of the many redirected streetcar journeys I had passed a most unusual house on Coxwell street just south of Gerrard, and I wanted to get a better view.

157 Coxwell street is a three story, two bedroom house designed by Rohan Walters. To call it unique in its surroundings would be an understatement; it's exterior is resin impregnated plywood in contrasting primary colours, red, blue, yellow. It towers above its neighbours (but not imposingly) on improbable conical stilts, with a drawbridge-like walkway leading to its front door. To this sci-fi geek, its spaceship meets castle look, channels The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy in humour, cheerfulness, and imagination - made all the more bright by its contrast to the drabness of its immediate surroundings. The green space (or soon to be green space if Spring ever arrives) around the house is prominently displayed underneath and all around the structure itself; making the home seem even more like a temporary alien visitor, ready for take-off.

If you would like to know more about this building, or the artist responsible for it visit http://www.spacesbyrohan.com/.

In defence of "Bazaar"

I have made a promise to myself to strike the term "Little India"from my lexicon. Really. Why is it that whenever any cultural group becomes associated with a geographical area of Toronto, they get demoted to "Little"? Truly, there is one "Little"spot in Toronto for me, and that is "Little Italy". Why? Because it's a first - a name claimed by the community, not thrust upon it. The Annex, Rosedale, Cabbagetown, The Beach, High Park, Little Italy, Chinatown? Yes! Little India, Indiaville, Indiatown? No! "Little""Ville""Town"are names coined when no other title has grown organically. For a geographic area to name itself it needs a sense of history, a feeling of familiarity, a community that, as one, recognises the affectionate homeyness of the title when it's uttered. Bazaar. Let it roll over your lips. Close your eyes on this cold February day and feel the warmth of summer, stalls on the sidewalk, chatter of people talking in many languages. Imagine the colours pink, orange, green, purple, unabashedly thrown together without regard to their placement on the colour wheel.

Bazaar: A Marketplace, or shopping quarter, esp. South Asian. Bizarre: Different, Unusual, Unique. C'mon Neighbours! Spurn "Little India". Gerrard India Bazaar. Rrrrresplendent with rrrrrrs. Augmented by soft aaaaahs. A little bit of ZZZing. When you speak of your neighbourhood let your friends hear the Calm, the Anticipation, the below-the-surface Fizz, inherent in the very make-up of its letters. Leave them subconsciously expecting the Unexpected.

Discovering Gerrard India Bazaar

I was born and raised in downtown Toronto. There was a time - well into my teens - that carried some cachet; in my generation, my social circle, I was a rarity among the suburbanites and the newly arrived. My teens don't seem so very far gone, but that Toronto was a different city than today's; the unspoken boundaries of "Downtown" have pushed North of Eglinton, West of Kensington Market, East of the Danforth, and beyond! "Villes" and "Towns" and "Littles" that I had never heard of in my childhood, are sprouting, growing, and multiplying like Dandelions on an untended lawn. Lest my metaphor of this weed be misinterpreted, let me express my admiration for these little resilient flowers - these harbingers of Summer - bright explosions of colour, cracking through the bland expanses of concrete and endless clipped green grass. Hooray!

I'll tell a personal story that illustrates for me how fast this city is changing. Ten years ago I was a fresh young thing with a hot new guy; a man willing to travel from his native Wales to be with the woman he loved (me!) We had met in University during my year studying abroad. I came back to Canada a few months before his studies were to conclude, to set us up in our new life together. Of course, I wanted to make this city, my home, as appealing to him as possible so I was meticulous in my apartment searching. I found myself headed to one showing on the dingiest street I had ever walked down; the overcast day made everything that much more grey and unappealing. "I can't ask him to live here!" I said to myself and I called the landlord to let him know I wasn't even going to make the appointment. About five years later, I found myself walking down a street strangely familiar to me (with that same man, now my husband), a street lined with renovated brick homes and new town houses, a street where we couldn't afford even a "fixer-upper". You got it folks! The same blessed street in Leslieville.

While all this change is exciting, like so many of us of middle to lesser means, we've had to get creative when we finally admitted to ourselves that this Toronto Real Estate rocket was unlikely to suddenly plummet. This is how we discovered Gerrard India Bazaar. We found our little run-down-gut-reno on a sweltering summer day; peeking out from its humble exterior, Promise as bright as that much maligned summer Dandelion. But it wasn't the house that sold me in the end - as the Real Estate gurus say"Buy the worst house in the best neighbourhood you can afford." - I was immediately engaged by the bright colours in the shop windows of Gerrard street, the gold jewellery winking in the sunlight, the mouthwatering aromas from the restaurants, the curiosity at the outcome of that great pink venture "The Lahore Tikka House", the mystery tunnel leading to Monarch Park, the tree lined streets, and the easy friendliness of everyone I walked past. I am excited by this neighbourhood because of its history, its houses, its culture, its promise, and this blog is dedicated to my intention to discover everything my new Neighbourhood has to teach me. At the same time I am hoping anyone who has anything to share about this vibrant community will feel free to share it here, making this blog as much about the neighbours as the neighbourhood.

I invite anyone to send neighbourhood photos, stories of favourite restaurants and hot spots, renovation tales, neighbourhood inspired art, and any Gerrard India Bazaar facts and trivia, to me at GerrardBazaar@Yahoo.com, and I ask you to drop in from time to time to check up on my own adventures Discovering Gerrard India Bazaar.