You know how the NY Times (and every other media outlet) is all on about how oil prices and an American recession are sounding the death-knell of summer travel? You know how they're referring to that new trend, the staycation? (That's where you hang out in your own town, preferrably your uber-private landscaped backyard, and drink G&Ts flavoured with slow-food limes and spearmint while BBQing with your hepcat friends who are saving money in precisely the same, stylin' manner.)
Well, in the spirit of this - more in the spirit of having dispensed with all the away-cating I'm likely going to do for the foreseeable future - I decided to pretend TO is Mtl. And, then, when I realized that seemed pathetic, that it didn't quite do justice to this sophisticated city in which I live and which some people actually enjoy, I decided to pretend TO is fun. Not a word most people associate with this industrious bastien of commerce.
Cut to our Sunday lunch at Terroni on Queen St., a restaurant staple that is both uniquely TO and the real deal. 80-year old moms touch shoulders with tv personalities. First dates intermingle with harried (but hip) new parents and tiny tots.
And, though I didn't get a photo, we managed to dine today with the (not exactly warm and fuzzy) food-god himself, Susur Lee. Um, you know you're not eating crappy-style when Susur's at the table to your right.
Here are a few candid photos:
In case you're wondering if Mr. Lee was comped his meal en famille, the answer is a succinct "no". (I sneakily checked out the bill on his table as we were leaving. Don't judge: It was research.)