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Ed007Toronto
Guest
www.thestar.com/article/179144
Still cookin' at the Canary
Proud old greasy spoon serves burgers and fries, with a slice of life on the side
Feb 08, 2007 04:30 AM
Bill Taylor
Feature Writer
The Canary roosts at the corner of Front and Cherry Sts. and waits for better times.
Not that life is bad. But the neighbourhood is a bit of a wasteland. It's only a stone's throw from the ritzy Distillery District but in a different world.
Still, the Canary Restaurant is all a-bustle at lunchtime with everyone from construction workers to white-collar LCBO office staff chowing down on basic, honest diner food. You want breakfast for lunch? Not a problem, says waiter Mary Polito. "The only difference is french fries instead of home fries."
The walls are a mix of canary yellow paint, fake brick and real wood. Chrome-backed chairs, Formica tables and a row of stools at the counter. Christmas lights and streamers; Maple Leafs and motorcycle pictures; autographed photos of celebrities; model police cars in the window; hanging planters with artificial plants. It's the sort of place where you go to the cash register to pay and get a genuine "thank you" for your tip. The sort of place where everyone quickly knows your name. Where, whether you're a downtown lawyer or a down-and-out, you'll be treated the same.
"There used to be a flophouse down the street," says Nick Vlahos, who runs the Canary with his brother Tommy. "We'd get them all – hookers, druggies, rubbies. But they were all pretty respectful. We'd help them out, feed them if they were broke. Sometimes you'd get a guy asking for money for food. I'd say, `The food's right here. I'll feed you.' And he'd say, `No, I'd rather have the money.' So you know what he really wants to buy."
"Mom's Special" is in crayon up on a mirror: Three eggs, two strips of bacon, two sausages, ham, a pancake, potatoes, toast and coffee; $8.95. Or perhaps you'd prefer the Vegetarian De-Lite: "One chilled celery stick, seasoned to your taste, along with one carrot stick, washed by hand. Served with a glass of chilled tap water (vintage year). Only $19.95 (seasonal)."
Vlahos put that on the menu "because people used to come in and want vegetarian stuff and get upset when we didn't have it. This is a greasy spoon! I thought, `I'll fix you up ...'"
It's a greasy spoon with a history, relocating from University Ave. and Dundas St. in 1963, with the original Canary sign coming with it. "It's always been in the family," says Vlahos, 48. "I've been working here since I was 13. We're open seven days a week so Tommy and I take alternate days cooking.
"I learned to cook from my dad, except he was very secretive about it. I did a lot of peeking around the corner. This was the industrial heart of the city back then; really thriving. We still get people who remember coming here as kids. We have a great breakfast and lunch business, mostly regulars."
He pauses to fill an order for fries to go, gravy on the side.
"What makes a good short-order cook? Taste-testing everything? Look at the size of me."
The 150-year-old building, with the restaurant as its centrepiece, has a lot of history, too. It first housed a school and then a hotel. Polito swears it's haunted. "There's a sort of vault in the back. I hear whimpering sometimes. The guys say I'm crazy but I know what I hear."
What Vlahos hears is the sound of a new boom in the neighbourhood. "There'll be some highrises going up. Better times are coming."
Next to a giant, plastic Budweiser bottle, a stuffed owl roosts at the end of the Canary's counter and waits.
Still cookin' at the Canary
Proud old greasy spoon serves burgers and fries, with a slice of life on the side
Feb 08, 2007 04:30 AM
Bill Taylor
Feature Writer
The Canary roosts at the corner of Front and Cherry Sts. and waits for better times.
Not that life is bad. But the neighbourhood is a bit of a wasteland. It's only a stone's throw from the ritzy Distillery District but in a different world.
Still, the Canary Restaurant is all a-bustle at lunchtime with everyone from construction workers to white-collar LCBO office staff chowing down on basic, honest diner food. You want breakfast for lunch? Not a problem, says waiter Mary Polito. "The only difference is french fries instead of home fries."
The walls are a mix of canary yellow paint, fake brick and real wood. Chrome-backed chairs, Formica tables and a row of stools at the counter. Christmas lights and streamers; Maple Leafs and motorcycle pictures; autographed photos of celebrities; model police cars in the window; hanging planters with artificial plants. It's the sort of place where you go to the cash register to pay and get a genuine "thank you" for your tip. The sort of place where everyone quickly knows your name. Where, whether you're a downtown lawyer or a down-and-out, you'll be treated the same.
"There used to be a flophouse down the street," says Nick Vlahos, who runs the Canary with his brother Tommy. "We'd get them all – hookers, druggies, rubbies. But they were all pretty respectful. We'd help them out, feed them if they were broke. Sometimes you'd get a guy asking for money for food. I'd say, `The food's right here. I'll feed you.' And he'd say, `No, I'd rather have the money.' So you know what he really wants to buy."
"Mom's Special" is in crayon up on a mirror: Three eggs, two strips of bacon, two sausages, ham, a pancake, potatoes, toast and coffee; $8.95. Or perhaps you'd prefer the Vegetarian De-Lite: "One chilled celery stick, seasoned to your taste, along with one carrot stick, washed by hand. Served with a glass of chilled tap water (vintage year). Only $19.95 (seasonal)."
Vlahos put that on the menu "because people used to come in and want vegetarian stuff and get upset when we didn't have it. This is a greasy spoon! I thought, `I'll fix you up ...'"
It's a greasy spoon with a history, relocating from University Ave. and Dundas St. in 1963, with the original Canary sign coming with it. "It's always been in the family," says Vlahos, 48. "I've been working here since I was 13. We're open seven days a week so Tommy and I take alternate days cooking.
"I learned to cook from my dad, except he was very secretive about it. I did a lot of peeking around the corner. This was the industrial heart of the city back then; really thriving. We still get people who remember coming here as kids. We have a great breakfast and lunch business, mostly regulars."
He pauses to fill an order for fries to go, gravy on the side.
"What makes a good short-order cook? Taste-testing everything? Look at the size of me."
The 150-year-old building, with the restaurant as its centrepiece, has a lot of history, too. It first housed a school and then a hotel. Polito swears it's haunted. "There's a sort of vault in the back. I hear whimpering sometimes. The guys say I'm crazy but I know what I hear."
What Vlahos hears is the sound of a new boom in the neighbourhood. "There'll be some highrises going up. Better times are coming."
Next to a giant, plastic Budweiser bottle, a stuffed owl roosts at the end of the Canary's counter and waits.
