V decided to take us to Little India this weekend. It’s not exactly a pilgrimage to head off to Gerrard and Coxwell, but you need to put this into perspective. There’s this thing where people on the West side of Toronto never go to the east side, and vice versa. The border of this invisible barrier seems to be the Don Valley Parkway.
Maybe because for a western Torontonian, seeing the mighty Gardiner Expressway suddenly end with square pillars on the roadside pointing towards the sky and supporting nothing is too weird.
It was an interesting experience. If Chinatown can be said to be full of DVDs of questionable origin and Hello Kitty merchandise, Little India can be said to be comprised of stores selling you sarees and bangles. We got a box full of the sickly sweet confections known as barfi and chum-chums,which we are still nursing. And then we patronized this Indian buffet that proudly advertised 8 flavours of ice cream. I don’t think I’ve ever ate more in my life.
P.S. I did feel kinda scammed, since they actually only had 6 flavours. But the food was still pretty good.