Everybody loves Sam James. It's the coffee bar without the panini press or the WiFi, where you probably won't get a seat, on a tiny strip of shops on the otherwise retail-barren Harbord Street. But it's become the gold standard for an espresso shot, and a place to bother making the detour up from College or down from Bloor. Even if the avuncular, eponymous Sam isn't behind the counter, you'll likely get your coffee from a barista like him - someone as unflappably casual as Josh Flear, who walks a few feet from the espresso machine to do his profile, the better to keep an eye out for the next unexpected rush.

Te Aro held its second annual Espresso Throwdown this past weekend, packing the cavernous main room of its Leslieville coffee house in aid of an appropriately coffee-themed charity. A tireless team of baristas volunteered their time to keep the crowd caffeinated with non-stop pulls of a selection of European-roasted beans, while Bellwoods brewery provided the (pale) ale and Fidel Gastro's set up their pop-up restaurant for the night.

The best blues bars in Toronto have come a long way from the tavern back rooms and down-at-heels cocktail bars where the blues were played here a couple of decades ago. The Albert Hall at the Brunswick House was the archetype of this period, but it's long gone, and something's changed in the meantime.

Where once you might have seen old hippies playing Muddy Waters tunes at full volume in between cherished appearances by ancient blues legends, the Toronto blues scene has become a fully vested part of our jazz scene, and has benefitted from an influx of young musicians in the process. The clubs are also a lot more friendly to musicians, many of them run by players, with an obvious passion for the music and adventurous booking policies. You're a lot less likely to hear blaring versions of "Mannish Boy" these days, and a lot more likely to tuck into a decent dish of blackened fish with your blues.

For the first time ever, the National Home Show and Canada Blooms are sharing a venue and a ticket price, which means that you can indulge all of your nesting fantasies under one very large roof. Because this is where we all end up, after shopping for clothes has become depressing and partying is simply exhausting, and you realize you'll never drive a Lambourgini on a summer weekend afternoon, and that most of your personal equity is tied up in your home and whatever scant square feet of grass and weeds are out back.

Crafted, the Ossington satellite of Leslieville coffee house Te Aro, is just finishing its morning rush when I show up to interview Brett Johnston. It's a cozy shop, so it always seems busy, and on this bright, spring-like morning it's all very Ossington — everyone looks like they own a shop nearby or have a deadline this afternoon; at a table by the window an architect is going through the floor plan of a renovation on his laptop with a client.

It's always amazing how many people you'll find at Riverdale's Rooster Coffee House on any given mid-morning or mid-afternoon - times that are usually lulls for downtown cafes on busy streets. The big table at the back with the pile of board games is full, but no one is playing Scrabble, and Jason Galbraith is behind the bar, pulling shots for the crowd.