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Am I Canadian!?
MCBs in Toronto, One of His Favourite Party Cities

Madness at the Maddy
at the start of a 10-day Toronto trip.
Toronto Bar & City Guide
Look it up. Check the genes. I MUST be
part Canadian.
Did a distant relative once roam the streets of Toronto? Tour the pubs
and clubs of the day? Eat at the cafes, know the hostesses, waitresses
and bartenders all over town and have a lively group of revelers with
which to hang?
How else to explain my love of this place, the people and, of course,
the beer?
It's in the blood somehow, and going back in Toronto for a visit was
like being hooked up to a Canadian IV. T.O., as locals call it, is outstanding,
my kind of town. Coming back after not being here for a couple of years
was like going back home after a long holiday. I knew exactly where
go, what to order and where to order it. The place fits me like 38R
right off the rack.
Within seconds of tossing my luggage in a downtown hotel, I bolted
for the patio of Al Frisco's, ordered the Chicken Milano and a tall
Canadian brew and called several friends to join me. They did and we
went full speed ahead for a week and a half.
It's like when I travel to Mykonos
or Santorini
in the Greek Islands. I head like a homing pigeon to the same comfortable
spots I know so well.
And there's quite a bit of the Greek Islands in Toronto. The people
at the restaurants and bars remember you and greet you as if you went
to high school with them. Cafes are everywhere, just like tavernas.
The atmosphere is laid-back by day and by dark there is kickass nightlife.
And, like Greece,the place hardly changes. While I noticed some subtle
differences, Toronto is pretty much exactly as I left it two years ago.
'Bright smiles,
blonde hair and MCBs make for a sweet combination.
Al Frisco's still has the best patio in town (well, it DID until I discovered
on a more recent visit that they messed with the place and the Chicken
Milano is gone). The Crocodile Rock is still the place to be on Wednesday
nights, the Maddy and My Apartment on Thursdays. Even the same hot dog
vender is at the waterfront corner where I go for my runs.
The girls are still stunning. Why is it when discussions come up about
which country has the most beautiful women, you hear Italy, Mexico,
Sweden, California (yes, California is pretty much a country all unto
itself), etc. But no one ever mentions Canada. Maybe those people haven't
been here and if not, they don't know what they are missing.
Well too bad for them. The girls here are outrageous. My head turns
more often than traffic on Yonge Street. Most are in the mid-5-foot
range and blonde (many Northern Europeans settled here) with bodies
as solid as the Pyramids. They also have an attribute that makes them
unique among women in the world: Incredible breasts.
I'm not talking the Barbie Twins, mind you, but perfectly round natural
breasts that seem to literally explode out of their tops. They are so
perfect, it's as if they came out of a mold. It's amazing and it's everywhere
you look.
It
is the result, I philosophize, of generations consuming large amounts
of great Canadian beer. I refer to them as Molson Canadian Breasts,
or MCBs.
All those girls in Los Angeles seeking to enhance their breast sizes
should forget about the surgeons in Beverly Hills and move to Toronto.
It would happen naturally.
Oddly, it is a phenomena that appears to be concentrated primarily
in the Ontario province (too much tree-hugging in Vancouver, too much
French influence in Quebec, perhaps?). For MCBs, Ontario is the place.
Added to this visual delight is the fact that the girls are quite friendly.
Bright smiles and blonde hair make for a sweet combination. Sure beats
the attitude I get back home in Manhattan Beach, CA.
The PR representative for the former Molson Indy the event was once biggest
week-long party in town and will return in 2009 is the prototype Ontario babe (see photo).
Her name is Cynthea, and that's "Cynthea," not "Cynthia"
or "Cindy" or "Cindy Lou." She is hip, cool and
intelligent, loves a good party, has Swedish blonde hair, that great
figure and just the best Canadian accent.
And that's another thing. The accent here is adorable. Cute, actually.
It's very soft. For example, Canadian is "Ca-need-e-an."
Any word containing an "o" is pronounced very "round,"
so that "about" become "oh-boat."
Then there are the phases they use. They don't phone or call you, they
"give you a shout." They don't do a lap around a bar, they
"take a walk-oh-boat." They don't have bachlorette parties,
it's a "stagette."
I love the beer, too. It's smooth and flavorful at the same time. I
once had a draft so cold and tasty that it actually overwhelmed my brain.
Literally shut it down for a few seconds right in the middle of ordering
dinner. After all, this is the country that invented the twist-off cap.
There are, however, a few quirks about the place that stand out like
the CN Tower. For example:
You can't get beer or liquor from a convenience or grocery
store. You have to go to an overpriced state-owned Beer Store or
something called the LCBO, which aren't exactly located on every streetcorner.
There are no small bills. Instead, they have coins. Loonies
and Toonies, they call them ($1 and $2, respectively). This can create
a bit of confusion during hazy bar times, to say nothing of causing
a mild heart attack the next morning when you check your wallet to discover
it empty of bills,, only to pick up your pants and see coins rolling
out all over the floor.
The thought of unsweetened iced tea is as foreign as
a dollar bill. You can't get it anywhere. All they have is the sweetened
stuff. How sweet it would be to have chilled tea without sugar.
Jimmy Buffett is even more foreign concept than unsweetened
tea. Most people have never even heard of him. How could it be?
He's laid back, they are laid back. His concerts are a party, they like
to party. He sings about drinking margaritas on a tropical beach, they
dream of drinking margaritas on a tropical beach. Get with it! (Finally,
Margaritaville came to Toronto as Buffett played in June 05).
There's a town somewhere around here named Regina.
Rhymes with a female body part. It's real, but not having been there,
I can't say if it's spectacular. This really isn't a quirk, but it's
definitely worth noting.
So, am I part Ca-need-e-an? Well, if you are what you drink,
then that's a big "eh" okay. Like I said, it's been two years
since I've been to Toronto. And oh, how I have missed you so!

I hate posing, but
they insisted and I'm far too weak to resist.
The Bartender can be reached at bartender@pubclub.com
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