JB's Warehouse & Curio Emporium

MARKET BASKET SARSAPARILLA Market Basket, Billerica, MA Package Notes : Bubbly motif, used on all Market Basket sodas. "Made with Sparkling Water", as opposed to flat swill drudged from a neglected New England harbour. What's It Like?: Root beer, with a mellower taste than many brands of the foamy stuff. Market Basket also has cans of RB, but I neglected to pick any up for a direct comparison. Indistinguishable colour from RB. Would You Buy It Again?: Yes, due to that mellower taste - it's easier to polish off a can of sarsaparilla than full-strength A&W or Mug.

Toronto-Niagara Falls-Syracuse - 474.7 km Lesson: if bringing a suitcase with you across the Canadian-U.S. border, such as checkpoints along the Niagara River, make sure you cut off all tags from your last trip, as the Amtrak tag from last year's visit to New York raised the guard's ire. Several questions were repeated, likely to try to catch me off guard. She also seemed ultra-curious about how much money I was bringing into the US. No sign of humanity whatsoever, furthering my theory that all guards along the Niagara border are partially cybernetic. What border guards along the Niagara River look like underneath. Limited myself to a quick stop at the outlet mall in Niagara Falls, where the trip's book blitz began. Walked out with a couple of cookbooks and a history of Our Gang/Little Rascals (yeah, I grew up with endless Sunday morning reruns of Mush and Milk and Our Gang Follies of 1938 on channel 4). Headed east on the NY Thruway, breezing along while burning ...

Over the course of the roadtrip, I couldn't resist visiting most grocery store chains I came across. Let's just say the nuclear stockpile of food grew significantly. As a consumer service, the Warehouse Test Kitchen will review these products over the next few months, letting the public know if it's worth the trip to Massachusetts for sarsparilla or Quebec for "exotic" fruit juice. First up, some homestyle goodness from Joisey... PATHMARK HOMESTYLE LENTIL SOUP Pathmark, Newark, NJ Package Notes: The folks at Pathmark are proud of their product. How so? Dig these directions: "DO NOT ADD WATER. SERVE FULL STRENGTH, JUST AS WE COOKED IT." It's much funnier if you picture these instructions in a New Yawk accent. What's It Like?: different from most canned lentil soups I've tried, due to the chunks of potato and smoke flavouring. Borders on bean and bacon, without the little bits of bacon. Thick consistency, dark brown colour that may ...

Just checked my phone messages and found a note from your friendly-neighbourhood Yanous, everyone's pal from Best Price Movers (yes, that's how he spelled it this time round). He wondered why I haven't called him back to move the piano (you know, the one that makes the music...dum-de-dum-de-dum...Yanous admits he can't play that tune). He also told me that if he wasn't around, I could talk to his pal Bisti, and that because "in this country, you have the big places", he'd always be there to help. Anybody else get this latest Best Price message...and if so, do you think they moved beyond mere camp value with this one? - JB

Pictures and stories from a trip with the family to the Glass City, Toledo, Ohio... Our story begins just north of the Michigan-Ohio border, at the outlet mall in Monroe. At one time, this was a thriving retail centre, with three full sections. Today, only one is near-capacity, while only a Pepperidge Farm outlet and one other store remain open in the section shown above. The in-between section was torn down years ago. However, my Mom still has good luck at the remaining stores, so we haven't written off this "dead mall" yet. This was our primary destination, the Libbey Glass outlet store. Located in one of Toledo's many failed projects to resurrect its downtown, this is the only part of the Erie St. Market one could honestly say is healthy (the outdoor market looked meagre, the indoor all but replaced by antiques).

The local media has gone gung-ho about tales of parking ticket quotas and increased driver rage against the parking cops. None of this surprises me, given several sketchy tickets I've received for parking on my street. A permit doesn't make you immune from zealous officials. I've learned not to park in certain spots, regardless of how they are marked. The weirdest ticket happened five years ago. In front of my house, there are two legal spots. Between our driveway and a short alleyway behind Mt. Pleasant, there's an illegal spot, marked as a "no standing" zone by a pole in front of my house. One night, the front of the car was sitting about 5 cm in front of the pole. 5 cm too far for a parking cop early one May morning. Here's an entry on the ticket from my journal - I used to number each installment, giving up after one volume disappeared along with the backpack it was in. 948: 25 May 00 Wha' The Fuh? It was not a good way to start off the day...

A few shots snapped while walking downtown Sunday afternoon... What's wrong with this picture, shot on a mid-walk trip to Manhattan? Note that famous NYC attraction, the Bata Shoe Museum. Yes, Bloor and Madison has suddenly slipped into a parallel dimension where it is now located south of Columbia University. Question: will this really fool anyone into believing it's the Big Apple? (Or maybe I've got a time machine kicking around...) You may have read in the Globe this weekend about city plans for handling graffiti. Here's a highly visibile example on College near Croft - note the message to our departed police chief. Creative interpretation of the Val Kilmer faces slowly fading from buildings around the core. This one mourns his career while paying tribute to one of his roles. At least it ain't The Island of Dr. Moreau they're saluting... (Augusta and Nassau, Kensington Market) The Four Seasons Centre (aka the new opera house) is well on its w...

We continue with the third of six vintage Gulf ads discovered in the Warehouse. Commentary by J. Percival Wexford-Snoopington, Ph. D. Tire inflation was an important part of the service attendant's daily itinerary. No more allowing customers who no prior knowledge of operating an air pump to handle these delicate pieces of machinery. Service attendant fatalities from standing too close to customers who overinflated their tires which promptly exploded declined by 57% after new procedures were introduced in 1927. However, some station owners came up with their own interpretation of "save you from 20 to 40% on mileage". Long before 70s television journalists uncovered rotten service station practises in Georgia, some operators instructed their pump jockey to overinflate customers' tires just enough so that they'd have a blowout a mile or two down the road, then be forced to return to the station for "repairs", driving up a station's profits by an ...

This month's Chowhound meetup resto: Hanoi 3 Seasons (588 Gerrard St. East), which was reviewed by Now in February This is part of a mural in the parking lot on Gerrard just west of Broadview, featuring interpretations of the seasons. Here's the outside of the restaurant, located steps east of Broadview on the north side of Gerrard. It's a cozy place, which filled quickly after our arrival. Probably a good thing we were a smaller group than usual (only four were able to make it). In front, #4 Hen (sauteed baby clams served with crispy rice cakes, which were cracker-like scoops flecked with black sesame seeds). Behind, #5 So Hap Gung Xa Ot (steamed mussels, which came in a tasty broth). Note the empty glass on the right, a quickly-downed jackfruit shake. Two of us were going to go for soursop, but that was the only fruit out of the half-dozen specialty shakes on the menu that they were out of. Reminded me of the shakes at The Mini in Windsor (yes sis, one of thes...

Looking for fun old photos to throw on the site, I dug back in the archive to my university daze. The wayback machine has been set to the fall of '95, with Mr. Buchanan (our dancing king from a few months back) proudly displaying two items. The red pepper came from a clown show we went to at either Tarragon or Passe Muraille as part of a script analysis class. The box in background still pops up in discussion among the gang - if you ever hear any ex-Arts Hausians refer to the Rent-a-Monkey Fund, this was the collection box. JD and Brad had the brilliant idea that if they could collect enough money, we could rent a monkey for a day. Who doesn't like monkeys? They pitched the fund at several house meetings, but alas, the fund never made much headway. It was a terrific idea, but its time hadn't arrived. Hmm, maybe I should start the 10th anniversary monkey fund... - JB

Another month, another freebie newspaper. Today's entry into the newsbox sweepstakes is Dose , CanWest Global's attempt to hook twentysomethings. I fell out of my chair looking at the paper's " About Us " page, which neatly sums up everything wrong with it. Tell me this doesn't sound like a cry against the man written by somebody funded by him: There is a lot of crap out there and we realiuzed there was nothing that was relevant so we said screw it, we are going to create a new source of information for our peers. Or at least severely dumbed-down information for their peers. Forced hipness is a rare beast to pull off well - we'll see if CanWest can do it. (I should fess up that I've spent most of the weekend listening to the CD version of Al Franken's Lies and the Lying Liars Who Tell Them , so my media crap-detector is running higher than usual). Design-wise, it resembles a messy headline-news channel, down to the "ticker" (in ...

We continue with the second of six vintage Gulf ads discovered in the Warehouse. Commentary by J. Percival Wexford-Snoopington, Ph. D. Stations offered various levels of windshield cleaning service. This ad neglects to mention that free service meant a spit shine. Every pump jockey grabbed sticks of Beemans or Black Jack gum to get the saliva going, then go into a single-wing formation to spit at the windshield. Ladies were provided with spitguards in case any attendant had poor aim. Stations in wealthier areas provided windshield washing with water imported from hot springs across America, promising theraputic benefits for one's jalopy. Only the purest cotton was used to cleanse the glass. As for the "no obligation", attendants would continually pitch higher-cost services in between questions about Aunt Dot from Springfield. This form of salesmanship eventually became a lost art until it was revived by most modern banking services. - JB

Saturday evening was like a baseball doubleheader, only the games were on opposite sides of town. Our story begins at Lansdowne and Bloor, site of this month's Chowhound dinner. Seven of us met up at Pura Vida, a roomy bar next to the subway station which several people had heard about on CBC Radio. A big screen TV silently played a Spanish translation of A Fistfull of Dollars, while a smaller one showed a soccer show. We started with a round of appetizers: plantains with a sharp white cheese, nachos and "naked" bread. The name of the latter drew us in, and proved a good choice. Turned out to be a variation on bruschetta, loaded with the same sharp cheese, jalapenos, tomatoes, sharp sour cream, etc. The menu's promise of extra "goodies" with the nachos also caught our eye - good they were, fresh chips loaded with meat, beans, peppers, sour cream, etc., but not overwhelmed by gobs of cheese. As for the mains, I had baked enchilladas in green sauce, acco...

The Warehouse recently found some snapshots of Gulf Oil advertising, from the 20s or 30s. We forget where we picked these up, so apologies are given to whoever we lifted these from. Historical notes have been kindly provided by J. Percival Wexford-Snoopington, Ph. D. This is the first in a series of six ads we'll feature over the next few weeks. Note that above any other products and services Gulf Oil provided, rest rooms were considered the most important. Gulf's expert team of regional latrine orderlies were the envy of competitors. Even quarts of motor oil and window cleaning were of secondary importance to making sure customers could relieve themselves in the utmost comfort and gentility. The clean rest room for ladies and gentlemen was the most popular of all. No way any dirt or dirty thoughts ever touched these sterling stations. No way. Nor were the old whiskey stills often found in the rest rooms at the height of Prohibition a draw. Meanwhile, the extra time mot...

Moved the Sunday Constitutional to Saturday this weekend. Extended the usual route, blinded by the sun as I followed Queen to Roncesvalles. Only purchases were a cheap 3-CD set of a Louis Armstrong bio that aired on CBC Radio and Charlie Chaplin's autobiography. Odd conversation in the bookstore I found the latter: CLERK: Chaplin. JB: Yes. CLERK: Cash. JB: Yes. CLERK: Five. JB: Here. CLERK: Bag. JB: Pack. CLERK: Good. JB: Thanks. CLERK: Later, alligator. Darn, the last line broke the monosyllabic, rapid-fire rhythm.

They're back...after a long absence, everyone's favourite annoying moving company is telemarketing its heart out. Yes folks, Boris, Janos and the gang are back looking for your business. There were two messages on the phone from the master of lousy accents tonight. What can you expect if they tap into your phone? * They now represent a nameless moving company. Nary a mention of Best Price or Athletic Movers, just a van and expert staff. * Janos' accent has mutated into the world's worst Dr. Strangelove imitation. His message was so bizarre, I've saved it for future transcription. He'll even move your aquarium, the one with fish in it! I'm curious if Jean-Pierre, Reggie, Tugboat Bill and others are also out there drumming up business for the now-anonymous company. Leave your message at the tone. - JB

Adventures in crossing the Niagara River... Headed down to Buffalo on Saturday for my usual border run. It was an uneventful drive until I pulled out my wallet at a red light just before the Rainbow Bridge. Birth certificate - check. Driver's license...hello, driver's license? It dawned on me that I'd driven around for three weeks without my license, ever since I put it in my other wallet for Raquel's birthday (didn't want to bring along the full beast that night). Cue a couple of minutes of self-directed anger. I drove around downtown Niagara Falls, dithering over heading back to TO or taking a chance with the soulless Niagara River border guards. What did I have to lose? I put the birth certificate back in my wallet and headed onto the bridge. Pulled up to the inspection booth, pulled out my birth certificate and half-feigned a panic attack. I got lucky, as the guard suggested every possible card I could own that might have photo ID on it, down to Costco mem...

Recently, the Warehouse has received an avalanche of calls from customers concerned that their personal enviroments don't have the right scent. They've heard about Shania Twain's Scentstories fragrence discs and wanted to know if we were going to marry the magical worlds of music and air freshen...er...environmental aids to provide solace from the hustle and bustle of daily life. The Warehouse contacted one of our valued vendors with suggestions for extensions of this line, which we know our customers will appreciate. After extensive market research and many long days journeys into night, we have come up with our premiere selection: TOM WAITS - 1970s EDITION It's a new disc theme that plays five amazing scents reminiscent of the old man bar or cheap greasy spoon in your town. Transform any environment into one dripping with character, smoky haze and that distinctive barroom stench. Also on the drawing board: We're looking for the next teen bimbette singing...

The parade of friends' birthdays continued this week when we caught Kung Fu Fridays at the Royal Theatre. The chop-socky fun began with a couple of trailers. Hero Among Heroes looked like a hoot fest, complete with actors wearing ridiculously false buck-toothed choppers. The evening's raffle came next. We loudly oohed when the first number was read off, but awwed when nobody came close to winning any prize (the British flick about sumo housewives sounded neat). The feature was presentation was The Golden Mask , which seems to be easier to find info about on the net under the name Golden Killah (here's a review from Kung Fu Cinema ). The copy shown had the most unintelligble subtitles I've ever seen. Syntax and spelling were clumsy at best. The audience hooted and hollered at the homoerotic subtext running through the titles. They also left many plot points up to the imagination - if you weren't paying close attention, you might have thought it was a tale of ...

Since the first time I went out with the Chowhound dining group went OK , decided to check out their January destination Friday night. This month's pick: Red Violin , a Brazilian BBQ at Danforth and Broadview. The evening got off to a rocky start, when I went into the wrong resto. I briefly lost the ability to match the sign above the correct door - I entered the Latin restaurant next door, left a puzzled maitre'd when none of the names I rhymed off were on the reservation list, then finally noticed a review in the window. After heading next door, all was good. FIRST COURSE To start, they offered up a salad/seafood bar. Not exactly your offering of limp iceberg, the spread featured hot and cold seafood (great shrimp in tomato sauce), a variety of cheese, slices of guava paste, various vegetable salads and addictive thumb-sized cheese bread. All delicious. MAIN Soon after, servers came around with large skewers, each with a different type of meat. They came to each perso...