Routine by Mathew Hoy Amidst life’s turmoil, it’s great to have at least one steadfast routine activity to ground you. My trip to the Western Fair Farmer’s Market every weekend is my capstone event. At around 10:30 am, I pack up the trolley with a menagerie of reusable containers and a thermal pouch for my weekly indulgence (I’ll get into this later). With phone in my pocket, cash for the cookie lady (she only takes cash), PPE mask in case I’m feeling off, and headphones playing a familiar playlist or the most recent episode of a D&D let’s play series, I’m off. When I cross Dundas Street and enter the parking lot, I look for non-local license plates. I like to imagine that on their grand adventure, someone has woven a delicious tale of snacks and delights at the Market and convinced them they simply mustn’t miss them, like a kind of critical port of call on the great Canadian cross-country road trip. As I enter the main doors, I’m always met with two things: the sound of industrial-sized fans sounding like they’re threatening to take off and carry the building with it, and one of the Market’s many buskers belting out Tragically Hip or Tom Petty ballads. I always save my change so I can toss a coin to one or two of them before I leave. Inside, I bee-line straight ahead and turn a sharp right, weaving between bluegrass buskers and small families sampling wares like the amazing pies from Umkulu Kitchen. As I pull up at my first destination, Bifana Boys, I’m greeted by a “Hi Mathew!” from the friendly staff. We continue chit chatting as I get out my thermal bag and order a specialty sandwich and two Lime Rickey Pop Shoppes (one for lunch now, and one for a mid-week treat). I place the order and ask that they be made with extra love. The staff laughs, feigning resentment at the very idea they wouldn’t be made with love and tell me it’ll be about 10 minutes. I’m on to my next stop. For some reason, I always think I can hear the citrus shrimp at the Out of the Deep fish counter calling to me like some kind of Ratatouille/Little Mermaid seafood and song mashup. When I do stop, I always get the 12-piece deal and ask for “extra sauce” if I’m taking the last shrimp from the cooler - it tastes even better with the extra flavour from the leavings.
I round the horn and head straight to Canada Comfort Foods (or as my kids call her, the Cookie Lady). I pull out two containers and ask for “six butts and three smartie cookies”. I should explain if you’re a stranger who hears me ordering butts at the counter someday. The first time I took home heart-shaped brownies, my kids saw them upside-down and thought they were butts, and now we refer to them as such. When I text to ask my family what they want from the market the kids always reply, “Butts”. Mimi and Sheik are next at Mimi’s West Indian Cuisine as my wife and daughter are enamoured with their doubles and samosas. We stop and catch up on the week, and when I leave, Sheik always says “Well, you take care” with the biggest smile on his face. Come to think of it, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him without it. Along my lap around the north end of the building, I stop at the Artisan Bakery and ask if I can buy one or two loaves of bread
Page 8 Old East Villager September 2025
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