California Dreamin'

In the last seven days, I have inhaled six of these ridiculously messy, incredibly gigantic, fabulously gratifying sandwiches from California Sandwiches and thought it befitting to blog about this local family-owned and -operated business, which I only recently stumbled upon but which has been in existence since 1967.

The very first shop opened its doors in Toronto's Little Italy not long after the Papa/Bertucci family discovered that their grocery store's homemade sandwiches had been bringing in more clients for lunch than for groceries, and since that time, this family establishment has expanded to 12 locations across the Greater Toronto Area, the newest one having just opened in the heart of downtown Toronto at the crossroads of Yonge and College.

I don't just like these sandwiches; I am in love with them. California Sandwiches is my new go-to place for lunch, dinner, and any craving in between. Their concept is simple: a menu of seven varieties of sandwiches (veal, chicken, eggplant, meatball, sausage, steak, and veggie), all made with the same daily baked kaiser bun and signature Italian ground tomato sauce, with your choice of seven toppings (jalapeño peppers, sautéed onions, sweet peppers, rapini, mushrooms, mixed veggies, and provolone cheese) and level of intensity (sweet, medium, or hot). The result? A heavenly culinary creation that will have you salivating and coming back time and again.

Colombia Demystified

Exactly two months ago today, I arrived at Bogotá's El Dorado International Airport with no concrete sense of what to expect. Friends and family were divided in terms of their reaction to my decision to venture off to what has unfairly been perceived as a crime-infested land of drug lords and narcoterrorists. While there is a list of destinations I have yet to check off, I have travelled extensively enough (76 cities in 26 countries, to date) to say that Colombia's capital is really no more dangerous than any other city to which I have been.

Cerro Monserrate

Perched over 2,600 metres above sea level and home to approximately 8 million people, Bogotá is a thriving metropolis that boasts a plethora of world-class cultural institutions (75 museums and nearly 200 art galleries), shopping centres (well over 100, with many more on the way), and gastronomic indulgences (arepas and obleas, oh my!). It is a city that is so vibrant, so colourful, and so eclectic that one visit in no way is sufficient to thoroughly appreciate the rich history and culture of Bogotá, yet in the short time that I was there, I felt privileged to have had that rare glimpse into the everyday life of its people, and I write this today in the hope of encouraging others to experience first-hand the marvels of this fascinating Colombian capital.

Caldo: traditional Colombian soup made with
eggs, potatoes, and cilantro
Arepa: cornbread, typically pan-fried and stuffed with
cheese, mushrooms, chicken, or other filling

While travel articles pop up every now and then that make an admirable attempt at dispelling the myths related to the dangers of travelling to Colombia, those articles are, sadly, very few and far between. More often than not, media outlets have a tendency to report on the problems that afflict this South American nation, opting for the sensationalized version of events and depicting a rather dramatic image that is subsequently adapted to Hollywood blockbusters and ingrained in the minds and imaginations of impressionable outsiders.

As a born and bred Canadian, in a country known the world over for its peace-keeping efforts, I have travelled to various parts and seen plenty throughout my adventures, and I can honestly state that not once did I feel unsafe or in danger during my stay in Bogotá. Of course, to be fair, there are neighbourhoods and pockets within the city that one would be apt to avoid, and It is accurate to say that one would be prudent to keep a low profile at all times (although, quite frankly, this is a commonplace rule that applies to any tourist travelling to any part of the world), but all the perpetual warnings associated with travelling to Colombia should really be taken with a grain of salt.

La Candelaria

The reality is that this country has worked hard over the years to try to purge itself of its negative reputation, and the truth is that this reputation is not only unfair, but also quite unfortunate, because the situation in this country has improved tremendously in recent years and because its people and its culture have so much to offer to those who are receptive to discovering the unspoiled beauty that is Colombia.

Update: Stuart Weitzman Delivers

Moments after posting to Twitter back in November, I received a prompt reply from a courteous customer service representative for the US division of Stuart Weitzman. A few days later, immediately following the American Thanksgiving weekend, Alex, the Canadian customer service representative with whom I had spoken previously, gave me a call, this time apologizing for the situation and indicating that they were in a position to offer me a complimentary pair of pumps of my choice. A few days later, I received an expedited shipment from Stuart Weitzman.

For the first time since that incident, I am pleased to report that I decided to walk into the Stuart Weitzman boutique in Toronto. Within minutes, I purchased a pair of over-the-knee black crocodile-embossed leather boots. Thank you, Stuart Weitzman, for restoring my faith in your brand. And thank you, Twitter, for the power of the tweet!

Shoddy Stuart Weitzman Shoes

For all the ladies out there, I thought I would share with you the following correspondence that I recently sent to Stuart Weitzman's customer service department. An unapologetic lady by the name of Alex from their call centre responded, chalking up the situation to a case of "bad luck".

"Hi there. I purchased a pair of size 6.5, black suede Stuart Weitzman pumps at your Toronto location a while back. The other day, the heel on one of the shoes suddenly collapsed as I was approaching a busy downtown intersection. I took them to the store in their original box, along with the receipt as proof of purchase, only to be told via a phone call four days later that it was a simple matter of wear and tear, that I am past the three-month warranty period, and that there is nothing they can do about it.

"I am writing to let you know that this is an embarrassment that tarnishes the Stuart Weitzman name. While they don't compare to my higher-end shoes (Manolo Blahnik, Jimmy Choo, Christian Louboutin, Miuccia Prada), I am sure that shoes purchased at some lower-end establishment would far outlast the pair I had brought back to the store, in an otherwise perfectly good condition. In fact, I will be happy to photograph that flimsy suede-covered, plastic heel and post it on social media outlets to advise others against spending a single cent on such shoddy shoes.

"The store manager, Antonio Roberto, might benefit from taking a course on customer service. In similar situations, I have known other companies whose personnel would have been very gracious about either replacing the pair or providing a store credit. I find it difficult to believe that months of infrequent (perhaps a dozen times or so) of "wear and tear" would render these shoes in such condition. If, however, this is truly the case, then it certainly reflects poorly on the quality of craftsmanship of Stuart Weitzman products."

I am a young professional who, in just the last two years alone, has purchased four other pairs of shoes and/or boots from Stuart Weitzman, easily totalling over $2,500. The following shoes in question retailed at $365, a drop in the bucket in the grand scheme of things, yet I assure you that I will no longer be taking my business there. Bad luck, indeed—on the part of Stuart Weitzman.

Is this normal?!

Hey Lucy

A couple of girlfriends and I met up at Hey Lucy on King West after work on a recent weeknight (specifically for its Wednesday night martini feature), and I'm a tad embarrassed to concede that, after years of living in the Toronto Entertainment District, it's taken me this long to check this local haunt off my list of eateries.

For those of you who aren't familiar with the theatre district of this downtown neighbourhood, Hey Lucy is one of a number of restaurants that line the south side of King Street West between Blue Jays Way and John Street, to which theatre- and concert-goers are known to flock before and after shows at the Princess of Wales Theatre, the Royal Alexandra Theatre, or the Roy Thomson Hall.

While I try to avoid that strip of King Street on my way home from work most evenings (it can get somewhat annoying when you're solicited every 30 seconds by individual staff members whose job is to stand next to the heat lamp and offer a Vanna White display of their menu in an attempt to wave you in to their establishment), it's an interesting concentration of culinary eclecticism (Indian, Japanese, Asian fusion, Cajun/Creole, French, Italian) that showcases a few of Toronto's best international cuisines.

Crisp Pear and Goat Cheese Salad

At Hey Lucy, the atmosphere is inviting, the martini selection (over 20 varieties) is extensive, the music is catchy (well, if you're a fan of '80s music, that is), and the food is fabulous. Our only complaint was the service. Although the wait staff were pleasant, they decided to add a handful of drinks and an appetizer to the bill (one of my girlfriends happens to be a Chartered Accountant—a Certified Public Accountant for my readers south of the border) and, when we brought this accounting error to their attention, they still returned with the wrong subtotal. Nevertheless, let's move on to the menu ...

Cinnamon Hazelnut Dessert Pizza

While my friends, who had started off their Freedom 55 (retirement, anyone?) martinis with a serving of sweet-potato fries, migrated to a sharing platter of nachos baked with mozzarella, roasted onion, and grilled peppers and zucchini, I opted for the crisp pear and goat cheese salad. The baby spinach, dressed in a sweet onion vinaigrette and topped with cherry tomatoes and spicy pecans, was fresh, tender, and appetizing alongside the thinly sliced pear and creamy crumbled goat cheese. As tasty as it was, however, I'd have to say that the best part of the meal was dessert: a cinnamon hazelnut pizza, sprinkled with spoonfuls of cinnamon sugar, drizzled in melted semi-sweet chocolate chips, and served with a generous scoop of hazelnut ice cream and whipped cream. Mmm ... it was so mouth-watering that what had initially been intended as a shared dessert ended up being, um, more than half-devoured by yours truly (I do have a sweet tooth).

Hey Lucy ... I will definitely be coming back.

Hey Lucy is located at: 295 King Street West (John Street)