If the streets are banal reality, auto shows are a fantasy land where every car is unique, shiny and new, and the occasional auto is a true work of art. It's a thought you can't escape after you spend a day at the Canadian International Auto Show and head out onto streets filled with dusty, salt-sprayed cars in sensible shades of brown, blue and silver, the overwhelming majority of which are the dull quotidian types: compact sedans and hatchbacks, trucks and SUVs, with nary a supercar to be seen.

Over a year has passed since the venerable Dufferin jog passed into history with the opening of a new underpass connecting Dufferin Street to itself on either side of Queen Street West. The novelty of bypassing Gladstone Avenue might have worn off by now, but the tunnel itself still seems austere, lined as it is with two rows of conspicuously blank insets in the concrete that were supposed to house artwork.

Road salt and slush are two reasons why Toronto will probably never have the almost venerable custom car culture that you see in the United States. A tour through the industrial parks and main drags in the far suburbs will reveal, however, that it still thrives here, despite the long winters that send these chopped, dropped, flame-covered, bass-pumping labours of love under tarps and into garages for at least four months of the year.

If they keep breeding at this rate, there'll probably be a Dark Horse near you before your birthday, and the latest location seems to be doing just fine on Queen near Bathurst, in an area now known for its abundance of cafes. I've been told to be at the Queen West Dark Horse at noon, where I meet Derek, who's also in charge of the place just before the lunch rush begins. There's a quiet moment, however, so we head to the back of the shop.

If there were any half dozen points at which the Junction began to change from a sleepy retail dead zone into an up and coming neighbourhood it would probably have to include the opening of Crema, which has not only helped revive street life on this stretch of Dundas West but survived the opening of a Starbuck's right across the road. Its youthful staff has probably been part of its key to success, which has spread into a mini-chain of cafes across the city, staffed by baristas like Liam, interviewed during a lull on a rainy Tuesday morning.

There's a flock - a herd? a gaggle? a brace? - of baristas at the counter when I drop into R Squared near Queen and Palmerston, and a lineup constantly forming. I don't know who I'm supposed to talk to, but the owner pulls me aside and introduces me to Matthew. We head to the back of the shop where the music is a bit quieter and there's a gap in the laptops.