My interview with Susur Lee is scheduled for 4:00pm. I breeze through the door of his eponymous restaurant on King West just a tad before schedule, expecting a nice, quiet sit-down with the Toronto-based, world renowned chef.

I expected wrong.

Sure, at any other restaurant, a quiet hour with the big kahuna two hours before service may have been possible. But Susur is hardly any other restaurant.

Opened in 2000, Lee's second restaurant in Toronto--the celebrated Lotus closed its doors in 1997--has been getting rave reviews from the culinary cognoscenti since day one. The distinguished temple of gastronomy offers five- and seven-course tasting menus that change daily, a concept simple in theory, but remarkably difficult in execution. Each night's offerings are crafted based on Lee's mood and purchases at the local markets that day. As such, menus are not known until 5:00pm the day it is served.

Maybe a 4:00pm interview wasn't such a great idea.

It's been a good three years since I last interviewed Jay Malinowski. Back then, the Bedouin Soundclash frontman was still a university student living in small town Kingston, Ontario, hustling for gigs, and groaning about his upcoming exams. The band had only one release under its belt, Root Fire (2001), recorded in one 12-hour go with the $400 the boys had scrimped and saved from playing college bars.

Fast forward three years and, my, how things have changed. Since the 2004 release of Sounding a Mosaic, Bedouin's breakout album, Malinowski, along with bandmates Eon Sinclair and Pat Pengelly, have been catapulted to music stardom. (Juno aside, you would be hard-pressed to find someone who doesn't get a goofy grin upon hearing the devil-may-care amble of "When the Night Feels My Song.") These days, the Montreal-born, Vancouver-bred Malinowski calls Toronto home. That is, when his schedule actually permits him to spend time in one fixed location. Bedouin's touring schedule will see the band in 11 different countries in the next month alone, playing in venues all over Europe. Not too shabby for someone whose definition of a good night, last we chatted, was pocketing $50 from a night of gigging at the local dive.

I'm lying down, eyes shut, fists clenched. My legs are hoisted up in the air and my back is arched just so. It's warm, moist and gooey down there. I feel fingers exploring, getting ready. My whole body tenses, my muscles contract and... wait for it, wait for it... riiiiiiiiiiip! off it comes.

My eyes flutter open. I feel a little lightheaded. And, though sadist I am not, that felt good. Mary, my sweet-faced, auburn-haired esthetician, beams at me. She is already preparing the next stick of wax. My own fingers wander south to my wunder down under. I feel around. Verdict? Smooth as a baby's bottom. Mary is my new best friend.

A great Brazilian wax can change a girl's life. No joke. It's just one of those things that puts an extra pep in your step. Kinda like wearing sexy lingerie under your extra large sweats--it's your little secret, and it makes everything that much more fun. Be it the horizontal tango or simply laundry on a Saturday evening, having a Brazilian just ups excitement levels across the board. Hell, when this pussycat is freshly waxed and in my favorite lacy underthings, I feel invincible. Like I could scale Mt. Everest. Like I could fly to the moon. Like I could finally break it to my parents that, despite all their protests, writing may be my career of choice. (No, wait, scratch number three. Hell hath no fury like traditional Asian parents let down.)

Finding a good waxer, however, can be a girl's worst nightmare. You could go on the recommendations of your gal pals but, at the end of the day, it's largely a trial-and-error process. And the errors are--pardon my French--a monstrous bitch. I mean, do you really want to put your money honey pot through the ringer time and time again? Yeah, didn't think so.

Enter The Ten Spot, a nail bar and waxing heaven on Queen West. Ladies: meet The Ultimate Brazilian. Unruly hair from where the sun don't shine: meet your match. [Cue WWF intro music]. Be afraid, be very afraid.

Ask the average twentysomething Canadian who Tommy Douglas was and, chances are, you will be met with a blank stare. Shame.

Mention to the same doltish dunce, however, the names Kenny and Spenny and, more likely than not, you will be greeted with enthusiastic blabber about two of our nation's most (in)famous citizens.

"Dude, remember that time Spenny got covered in cow shit?"
"Yo, what about the first episode of season two, when Spenny ate Kenny's puke? That was awesome!"
"No, man, the best was when Spenny had to bite off Kenny's toenail. Now, that was cool."

It seems like everyone has a favourite tale about these two hometown heroes. ("We're Toronto boys, born and raised," they boast.) Forget Margaret Atwood, forget Glenn Gould, forget Leonard Cohen, and say hello to Canada's current red-hot exports: a guy (Kenny) who, on their show just last week, ingested his best friend's (Spenny's) freshly harvested snot balls. (Though, to be fair, not all famed Canadian exports have us beaming with pride: Vegas showgirl--errr, songstress--Celine Dion comes to mind.)

Friday, October 27 - I have a soft spot for Kid Koala. He's just such a little mumfert. He always says the darndest sweetest things and you just wanted to pinch his cheeks and cootchie cootchie coo him. That, and he's a damn fine musician. As a rule of thumb, you really can't go wrong with anyone off the Ninjatune roster, and Kid Koala is no exception. Expect oddball samples, turntablism that truly leverages the power of the decks, and just an all-round, lighthearted good time. You'll leave smiling, guaranteed. Mod Club (722 College W), $17.50, doors 9pm. --Panthea

Saturday, October 28 - blogTO music kids were a little MIA this week (ahem!), and so I'm now semi-blindly recommending the Hold Steady show for no reason other than a) it looks pretty lame to only have two picks any given week; and b) my darling friend Jordan is stoked on it and if there's anyone you should trust on matters of music (or of baseball, for that matter), it's Jordan...even if he does do this weird sniggerin' thing when going through my iPod. Horseshoe Tavern (370 Queen W), $15, doors 9pm. --Panthea

Sunday, October 29 - The local Wavelength Music Series, which happens every Sunday at Sneaky Dee's, continues well into the 300's as Wavelength #337 showcases Guelph's "punkgrass" greats The Barmitzvah Brothers, and the dynamic display of describing how bad aspartame is for you, Pyramid Culture. Sneaky Dee's (431 College St), PWYC, doors 9pm. --Garry

[Photo credit: SekondHandProjects. Also, if you saw this Hot Ticket earlier in the week and are wondering why it disappeared and has since reappeared...five words: the server can bite me.]

You may know him from such events as Alto Basso's Dear Hip Hop (nee LOVEmovement), the monthly Shuffle Party at Revival, and the African Way Tour with K'naan and South African hip hop outfit Tumi and the Volume. In the past week, he's spun at k-os' record release party, hosted a weekly radio show, thrown a bumpin' monthly jam, and got the wheels a-turnin' on a new food-meets-music entertainment/dining concept in Toronto (psst: it's still very hush hush, but you heard it here first).

Meet Nana Jr. Gyamfi-Kumanini, aka DJ NaNa, the local hip hop beatsmith who brings new meaning to the phrase "life in the fast lane".