I had concluded some time ago that the best delis in Toronto were sadly not worth my love. On every train ride home from New York, I'd spend 14 hours lamenting the illegality of getting pastrami over the border. A loved one would occasionally bring me a pound of Schwartz's from Montreal, but the long waits in between these gifts was starting to get me down. Admittedly hasty, it took only the buzz of a good sandwich to challenge this stubborn assumption that my hometown is inherently meat deficient.

Jodi at Coupe Bizzarre cuts my hair, and she's doing really well. She styles for bands, appears on TV, and is generally in demand.

Which worries me. Because my hair is emotionally attached to her. She coaxed its ill-defined waviness into an angular bob with a severe undercut, and now she's nursing it back through regrowth into something as yet undefined.

Is Toronto poutine an oxymoron? I don't know about that, but I would say for the typical late night devotee poutine is a very serious business, even a religion depending on who you ask (and how much French they speak). Having a mother from Quebec, I'm often horrified by the Anglophonic take on the classic French dish. Shredded cheese? Tabarnac!

Really, only two words distinguish real poutine from the rest: cheese curds. Mais lache pas la patate! Luckily Toronto has some incredible authentic poutine to offer. Poutine, that I should point out generally conforms to the three sacred elements of Quebec's famous meal as described in the poutine song.

The perfect Halloween costume can be hard to find, but having seen and worn my fair share of lame costumes over the years I've resolved to make the effort to scour Toronto to hunt down just the right outfit.

While homemade costumes earn extra props, there are plenty of creative options in stores that can make a great impression without investing a ton of time or money. Sometimes I start my search at some of the classic vintage or second hand stores to see if I can find a bargain. I'm not saying I'm cheap, but I aim to alternate which years I splurge on playing dress up.

Finding the best eggs benedict in the city of Toronto has been something of a five-year obsession of mine. Cradled in my first post-grad years, when I started ordering benny after benny at dives and premier eating establishments across town, my quest has subsequently spawned a year-end list, a whole blog about it, and more than a few angry conversations with my mother who is, naturally, quite convinced that I am on a one-way road to a coronary.

Toronto is a great bagel city. Foodies in La Belle Ville may disagree but a field trip along Bathurst with stops on Bayview and north of the 401 reveals more ways to craft a ring of dough than Montrealers would have you believe.

But picking a winner between the wood-fired wonders emanating out of the ovens on Fairmount West with Toronto's larger, fluffier varieties isn't likely to end in any resolution any more than our beloved province to the right's intermittent flings with separation. .