Taste the city

The best place to meet was at Pape Station, in front of the Tim Horton’s. I quickly called my friend to confirm just as I was descending into the underbelly of the subway. I was late.

I hadn’t seen Anne in so long. We have opposite work schedules. She finishes work just as I’m waking up, it couldn’t be more opposite.

But today we made a date for this sunny Saturday afternoon. The Greek food festival, The Taste of the Danforth was in full swing and we both love, love, love food.

Meeting up with friends can be a tricky thing when a festival is on in this city. But, she stood waiting, beside the scruffy looking coffee shop, with her back to me; just as she said she would. She was mesmerized by the parade of strollers and hungry festival goers who were making their way to the strip.

I was so excited to see her. I had to refrain from jumping on her back or pinching her butt; because I wasn’t a hundred per cent sure this was her and wouldn’t that have been embarrassing if it wasn’t - whoops.

I called out her name and she turned; a big hug was definitely in order.

We strolled down the street maneuvering around the kamikaze mommies with their buggies and wagons.

Then there were the masters with fire and meat; dozens of men with thick, black, well manicured moustaches hunched over their open aired grills.

We ate spanakopita, corn on the cob and sipped away at freshly squeezed strawberry smoothies.

There was just so much to see. A large stage was set up at the far end of the street festival. As we neared it three women floated to the stage with smiles wide and bellies bare. They shook what the good lord gave them and we all enjoyed every second of it.

Everywhere you turned people were rejoicing. Patrons at a cafe were dancing and calling out Opa! as they threw hundreds of paper napkins in the air. Passersby didn't know what to make of this, but the owners didn't even give a second look.

This was a perfect summer day in the city and as close to Greece as I'll come for at least another year.