About Toronto

(Rookie mistake: Your editor forgot to take photos.)

We woke up early Sunday morning and decided to bail by about 8:30 a.m.

When I was researching AirBnb’s, I somehow saw a food tour and decided to book it.

The idea was to meet our host Nancee at Dundas and Spadina. She would take us to several small, ethnic restaurants in the Kensington Market neighborhood we would not otherwise find.

The snow was falling even harder. We had 3 hours to kill in a snowstorm and headed up College in the general direction of where we wanted to be.

After 20 minutes of trudging through unshoveled snow we stopped in a coffee shop to warm up and grab a cup.

I was so disoriented I didn’t even notice it was a Starbucks. I almost never patronize Starbucks, or Tim Hortons, when there is a local alternative, whether Misty Guild, Power City or Good Rich Coffee. My go-to whole beans are Ontario Roast from Great Lakes Coffee, still $10 for a full pound.

The only positive about Starbucks was I needed a caffeine jolt and the house brew has ⅓ more jolt.

We plowed on looking for somewhere to kill time and stopped in Bad Attitude Bread on Dundas Street. The proprietor, Logan Dunn, was behind the counter with a limited array of goods – he curtailed production anticipating a slow day but his is a production space, not a restaurant.

Still, a small operation baking daily, using locally produced organic flour is exactly our speed. It reminded us of Anastasia's Artisan Bread in North Tonawanda.

I really wanted to grab a loaf of his bread but since we were traveling for an overnight with backpacks there was no way to take one. We split a cookie instead and headed back into the storm toward Cafe Pastel where we were warmly greeted.

Since we already had coffee and had time to kill, we took our coats off and split a spinach/feta pastry which was excellent. Things were slow because of the storm but a young couple came in with two dogs right when we needed a fix.

We still had a 20-minute walk to our meet up with our guide who sent a message just to be sure we were still coming. Four guests had canceled. We arrived at Dundas and Spadina with 40 minutes to spare and decided to kill time in the Rexall Pharmacy. Nancee messaged again to say she might be 10 minutes late.

Like candy, cards in Canada are different. We selected four after careful, time-killing consideration.

I had a nice chat with Rajit the security guard. He looked like he could easily work at Portage Tops in Niagara Falls. The only thing missing was a gun.

In the back corner of the store I saw a dishevelled homeless-looking woman dozing in a chair grateful for the chance to be out of the cold. Rajit paid her no mind. Compassion sometimes trumps having a job to do.

At 11:20, we retreated to the vestibule with more time to kill. Nancee walked in at 11:30 a.m. on the nose. A 20-minute ride on public transportation had taken her an hour. After reviewing our allergies, likes and dislikes we headed around the corner to our first stop. She sat us at a table at Xiao Long Bao and chatted with the proprietor, whom she knew, brought us a half-dozen soup-filled dumplings.

Nancee chatted with us about food and mentioned she worked in finance for a bank overseeing mutual fund transactions. In a way, I am the same, working for Allstate as a licensed financial services representative and doing tours as a side-gig because I love sharing my city, its history and food. Friends don't let friends eat at Hard Rock.

Somewhere along the way, she mentioned she was almost 9-months pregnant. Given our winter clothes, we had no idea.

She took us from there to a hole-in-the-wall where we had Bahn Mi. Beth grabbed a normal looking drink. I had a basil seed drink.

The seeds were in the bottom and almost felt like boba tea. It was odd.

We visited another restaurant, Japanese octopus balls called tacoyaki. They were delicious and a dish neither of us had ever experienced.

Nancee explained her origin to us. Her parents were Angolans who met in Ukraine, USSR where they were in university. She was the product and moved to Canada with her parents at 9.

We moved on to Goberhador Taco where we shared two freshly made tacos with smoked tuna, shrimp, pickled onion and crema. I loaded mine up at the salsa bar. The tuna took on texture that evoked beef or pork more than fish.

She wanted to take us to a Jamaican place for patties but it was closed so we skipped straight to dessert, coffee and a Nanaimo bar, an unbaked sweet delicacy named after a city in British Columbia with a chocolate wafer on top, a coconut cracker base and a white filling.

As we finished, and prepared to part, Nancee wrote out directions for us to walk south and take the streetcar on Spadina to Union Station.

Nancee was exactly the kind of AirBnb host we hope for – genuine, local, dedicated and plugged into her community even as she was within weeks of being a mom.

We struggled a bit to find the right bus, because the streetcars weren’t running, but ultimately found one that took us to a quick transfer and a drop at the Union Station.

The snow never stopped. Neither did the city. We settled in for the train ride back to Burlington and the hard, snowy drive home. Traffic on the Queen Elizabeth Way crawled at 30 mph and was still heavy.

I cursed having not chosen to park in Niagara Falls. Overall, however, it was a great time. With the exception of our lodgings, which were a nightmare explained next.