Destination Toronto: Professor Picton's House

On April ninth, Julia walked through the melting snow to Professor Picton's house, clutching her printed thesis in one hand and a bottle of Chianti in the other.

Julia stood on the front porch of Katherine's three-story brick home and rang the doorbell.  She wiped her palms on the front of her pea coat, trying to eliminate the clamminess.

Gabriel's Rapture, Ch. 32

~~~~~~~~~

Before I get into the heart of this post, I'd like to apologize for missing last week.  In case you don't follow my ramblings on twitter, I've been ill since Easter weekend.  I wasn't even sure I'd make this week's post, but have finally begun to feel better. 

I should also mention that this particular location requires more imagination, but given the timing of Julia's visit to Professor Picton's home, I thought it was only right for us to tag along.  After all, Picton is not a woman easily ignored.

"Julianne, welcome." Katherine opened the door and ushered her student inside.

If Julia's small studio was a hobbit hole, then Professor Picton's house was the abode of a wood elf. A wood elf with a taste for fine, old furnishings.  Everything was elegant and antique; the walls were paneled in dark wood with expensive carpets blanketing the floors.  The decorating was aristocratic but spare, and everything was extremely ordered and tidy.

After taking Julia's coat, Katherine graciously accepted the Chianti and the thesis, and directed her to a small parlor off the front hall.  Julia promptly sat herself in a leather club chair in front of the hearth and accepted a small glass of sherry.

In my discussions with other readers, Katherine Picton is always held in high esteem.  She is a character we all want to know more about and want to hear more from. And I'm crossing my fingers that she'll make an appearance in Gabriel's Redemption.

Personally, when I first read this scene I was reminded of my grandmother, Marguerite, and her home. 

She was not a professor, but she had the highest of standards in all areas of her life. Her home was small, but impeccable with only the finest furnishings.  She was beautiful. Even in old age, my Grandma Marge possessed both a model's figure and height. Her fashionable wardrobe was always the talk of the town. 

But beyond this, my grandmother was the feistiest woman I have ever encountered.  She was tough and she was opinionated, and you really didn't want to tangle with her because you'd lose. She was also free-spirited, athletic and the best cook in our family. She had a great sense of humor and continued to educate herself on anything she could for as long as she could. She was well-read, well-informed and even kept up with her granddaughter on all the newest trends.  For anyone who knew her, there was no denying she was a force to be reckoned with and I have no doubt she was one of the strongest, most elegant women I will ever know.

So I cannot help but think of her when I read about Katherine Picton. I can guarantee that if she were still here, she would have been one of the first people I would have gifted with this series of books.  She would have read them with enthusiasm and we would have had some very interesting *ahem* discussions as a result.

"Julia examined the large books about English architecture and gardens gracing the low coffee table. The walls were lined with pastoral scenes interspersed with the occasional severe black and white portrait of the ancestral Pictons.  She sipped her sherry slowly, savoring the warmth as it slid down her throat to her stomach.  Before she could finish, Katherine was escorting her to the dining room.

"This is lovely." Julia smiled, in an effort to mask her nervousness.  She was intimidated by the fine bone china, crystal, and silver candlesticks that Katherine had set atop a white damask tablecloth that looked as if it had been ironed.

(Not even the linens would dare to wrinkle without  Professor Picton's permission.)

I expect to be back next week, and pack your suitcases because we'll be leaving Toronto for a quick visit to the U.S.

Until then, take care,
Jenn

Destination Toronto: Lobby

 



 

 

 

"Lobby was an upscale martini bar and lounge on Bloor Street.  Gabriel, in true Dantean fashion, always referred to the club as The Vestibule, because he deluded himself that its inhabitants resembled the virtuous pagans who spent eternity in Dante's vision of Limbo.  In reality, however, Lobby and its patrons had far more in common with the various circles of Hell."

 

Gabriel's Inferno, Ch. 9

 

~~~~~~~~~

 

If there was one place I was absolutely dying to see in Toronto after reading Gabriel's Inferno, I have to admit it was Lobby.

 

It was not to be, however.

 

By the time I visited the city in 2011, Lobby was gone. Although the building is still there and is now operating as a new business, it is still easily recognizable from a distance.  Sadly, it appears that once The Professor found his Beloved and stopped making his regular visits there, the place just couldn't sustain itself without his patronage.

 

*sigh*

 

Even finding pictures online has proven to be a challenge for me this go round, but I did find this one and it made me smile. 

 

Any hope that this was taken with a certain iPhone?

 

 

 

 

 

 

I'm afraid we'll just have to look back fondly on the one or two evenings when we were swept away to Lobby with the Snarky Narrator.

 

 

 

 

"A double shot of Laphroaig twenty-five-year-old, neat, please. And ask the bartender for a small shot glass of spring water, non-sparkling," Gabriel instructed without making eye contact with the waitress.

 

The waitress left, and Rachel began to laugh. "Big brother, only you could make ordering a drink sound pretentious."

 

Julia giggled, if only because she like the sight of Gabriel's irritation at his sister's characterization.

 

"What's Laphroaig?" she asked.

 

"A single malt Scotch whisky."

 

"And the spring water?"

 

"Just a drop or two to open up the taste. I'll let you try it when it arrives." He hazarded a small smile in her direction, and she turned away, looking down at her lovely shoes.

 

He followed her gaze and found himself entranced by her beautiful high heels. Rachel had no idea how fine a purchase they'd been. It was worth every penny just to see Miss Mitchell's lovely legs, arched and lengthened by those exquisite shoes.  He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, hoping the movement would successfully dislodge his advancing arousal from its current trap.

It didn't."

 

 

Oh my.  I need a distraction after that. 

 

How about a fashion show filmed at Lobby?

 

It gives us an idea of what the place was really like back in the day. And I bet if you watch it, you'll spot a few of The Professor's favorite fashion accessories.  (I saw at least three, just sayin.)

 



 



 

 



Hmmm...

 

It looks like Gabriel and Julia have made their way over to the dance floor while we were distracted by fashion.

 

 

"Relax," he whispered, his lips brushing against the skin of her cheek accidentally.

 

He brought their bodies close together, making sure that she could feel his chest against hers. Strong and hard met gentle and soft, as they brushed against one another through their clothing. Gabriel was now on his best behavior.

 

Julia didn't recognize the song he'd requested. The vocalist was singing in Spanish, and the words were unfamiliar, although she recognized the phrase besame mucho and knew that it translated as kiss me a lot. The arrangement itself was slow Latin jazz, and they swayed to it gently, Gabriel moving her across the dance floor like an expert. The fact that he'd chosen such an overtly romantic song made her blush.

 

I kissed you a lot, Gabriel, for one glorious evening. But you don't remember. I wonder if you'd remember me if I kissed you...

 

She felt his pinky graze the top of her barely there panties through her dress, and she wondered if he knew what lay beneath his finger. The thought that perhaps he did made her skin explode in heat.  She hid her eyes by keeping them determinedly fixed on the buttons of his shirt.

 

"It would be better if you looked me in the eye. It will be easier for you to follow my lead."

 

She found him smiling down at her, a wide and genuine smile that she hadn't seen in years. Her heart fluttered, and she beamed back at him, dropping her guard (but not her panties) for only an instant."

 

 

I think this is a good place for us to return to our banquette, listen to the music and let these two have their quiet moment.

 

 

 

 

 

This concludes my month long look at evenings out in Toronto.  I haven't quite decided what my Destination posts will be for April, so next week's post will be a surprise for us all.

 

In the meantime, I hope you have an enjoyable week.

 

Until then, take care,

Jenn

 





Destination Toronto: Harbour Sixty Steakhouse

"Harbour Sixty Steakhouse was a landmark in Toronto, a famous and very expensive restaurant popular with CEOs, politicians, and various other impressive personages. Professor Emerson ate there because their steak was superior to any other he had tried, and he was impatient with mediocrity. So it never occurred to him to take Miss Mitchell anywhere else."

Gabriel's Inferno, Ch. 5

~~~~~~~~~

When I first discovered "Gabriel's Inferno," this scene was the moment I realized just how desirable The Professor was. Up until this point, he hadn't shown us his better side and even though I found him a fascinating character, I wasn't sure if he would ultimately appeal to me (famous last words).

"Miss Mitchell had a lovely voice, it was true, but Miss Mitchell speaking Italian was something celestial.  Her ruby mouth opening and closing, the delicate way she almost sang the words, her tongue peeking out to wet her lips from time to time...Professor Emerson had to remind himself to close his mouth after it had dropped open.

Antonio was so surprised and pleased at her response that he kissed her cheeks not just once but twice and quickly led them to the back of the restaurant where he provided them with his best and most romantic table for two."

"He looked across the small and intimate table and saw that she actively avoided his eyes. She was studying the menu as if it were an exam, worrying her lovely lower lip between her teeth.

"You are invited, Miss Mitchell."

Her eyes darted to his with a questioning look.

"You are my guest.  Order whatever you like, but please order some meat." He felt the need to add that qualification since the express purpose of their dinner was to provide her with something more fortifying than couscous."

(Parenthetically, if you would like to peruse the menu, you can do so here.)

When The Professor took Julia to dinner at Harbour Sixty Steakhouse, I began to look at him in entirely different light. And it wasn't just because Emerson had decided to make sure Julia ate a decent meal, although it was a touching gesture.

Oh no.

It was this moment right here...

"Mr. Emerson watched, almost breathless, as she swirled the wine in her glass expertly, then lifted it so that she could examine it more closely in the candlelight. She brought the glass to her nose, closed her eyes, and sniffed. Then she placed the glass to her plump lips and tasted the wine, holding it in her mouth for a while before swallowing. She opened her eyes, even more widely, and thanked Antonio for his precious gift.

Antonio beamed, complimented Mr. Emerson on his choice of dining companion a little too enthusiastically, and filled both of their glasses with his favorite wine.

Meanwhile, Mr. Emerson had been adjusting himself under the table because the sight of Miss Mitchell tasting wine was the most erotic thing he'd ever witnessed. She was not merely attractive; she was beautiful, like an angel or a muse. And she wasn't merely beautiful; she was sensual and hypnotic, but also innocent. Her pretty eyes reflected a depth of feeling and radiant purity that he had never noticed before."

For me, this scene was critical in allowing me to see The Professor beyond his harsh exterior.  As their evening together progresses, we see Emerson unexpectedly drop his guard with Julia, allowing an honest admission to slip past his defenses.

"Antonio is very taken with you."

Julia looked up and smiled prettily. "He's very kind."

"You blossom under kindness, don't you? Like a rose." The words escaped his lips before he had time to consider them, and by the time they were pronounced and Julia had looked at him with no little warmth, it was far too late to retract them."

 

 

And swoon went this girl.

 

 

Next week, I'll be back to wrap up our tour of evenings out in Toronto, and you can expect a hell of a finale...

 

 



Until then, take care,
Jenn

Destination Toronto: Caffé Volo

 

"I'm not dressed for dinner, thank you very much." Her voice was satin over steel, and she arched an eyebrow at him. She had gotten over her initial shock at being surprised in his carrel and was now fully awake and fully annoyed at his tone.

His eyes passed over her slowly, pausing to regard her lovely figure and then resting for a long time on her sneakers.  He despised sneakers on women, for they were a waste of a perfectly good podiatric opportunity. He cleared his throat. "You look fine. I think the color of your blouse brings out the blush in your skin and the butterscotch flecks in your eyes. You look nice, actually." He smiled at her a little too warmly and looked away.

I have butterscotch in my eyes? Since when? And since when has he looked at them long enough to notice?

"There is a little place near my building that I frequent during the week, especially on late nights.  I'll buy you dinner, and we can talk about your thesis proposal, informally, of course. How's that?"

"Thank you, Professor."

Their eyes did not meet for long, but they met, and warm and somewhat hesitant smiles were exchanged on both sides."

Gabriel's Inferno, Ch. 12

~~~~~~~~~

This was one of my favorite chapters in Gabriel's Inferno and so when I visited Toronto, I knew my trip would not be complete without checking out Caffé Volo.

The place is easy to pass by on the street, blending in with its surroundings quite well. In fact, when my friends and I first approached it, we weren't even convinced we were at the right location.  Once we stepped inside, however, we quickly recognized the setting we had read about.

"The Caffé was a quiet but friendly establishment that boasted perhaps the longest and best beer list in Toronto.  It also had a very fine Italian chef, and so their food was some of the finest simple Italian fare on offer in the neighborhood.  The restaurant itself was small, only ten tables, which were supplemented in the summer by a patio.  The decor was rustic and included antiques, such as reclaimed church pews and old harvest tables."

I enjoyed a lovely evening there with good friends, good alcohol and good food. And yes, we requested a particular section...

"Gabriel liked it because they sold a particular kind of Trappist Ale that he preferred, Chimay Premiere, and it pleased him to have pizza in the Neapolitan style to pair with that beer. (As ever, he was impatient with mediocrity.) Since Gabriel was a frequent patron of Caffé Volo and more than somewhat persnickety, he was offered the best seating, which was a quiet table for two tucked into a corner near the large picture window that looked out on the madness that was Yonge Street at night.

Transvestites, university students, frat boys, policemen, happy gay couples, happy straight couples, celebrities slumming, yuppies walking their pretentious pets, eco-friendly activists, street persons, buskers, possible gang members, Russian mafia, a wayward professor or Member of Provincial Parliament or two or four, etc. It was a myriad of fascinating human behavior, it was live, and it was free."

Ever since my visit, I've wondered how many other fans of The Professor have wandered into the place requesting the same seat. I'm guessing at least a few and I'm guessing enough of us may have popped in by now to be easily identified upon sight. *giggles*

"Julia settled cautiously into her seat, which was a converted church pew, and pulled the lambskin rug that the waiter had draped over the back of the pew tightly around her.

"Are you cold? I'll ask Christopher to seat us near the fireplace." Gabriel moved to signal to the waiter, but Julia stopped him.

"I like to people watch," she said shyly.

"Me too," he admitted. "But you look like a Yeti."

Julia reddened.

"Forgive me," he hastened to add.  "But surely we can do better than a lambskin rug that has been God knows where. It probably used to grace the floor of Christopher's apartment.  And who knows what kind of shananigans went down on it."

Now, in the true spirit of shananigans, I'm breaking my self-imposed rule a bit and a sharing a portion of a personal picture taken from my night at Caffé Volo.  I think it's important to see that the essential details of this scene are factual (parenthetically it should be noted that the attractive arm you see there is my friend's, not mine. I wanted the window seat.) Please note one lambskin rug and one bottle of Chimay resting on the shelf above said rug. :)

Now, no evening out at the bar is complete without a little music...

"That's a beautiful song. Who is it by?"

"It's called You and Me by Matthew Barber, a local musician. Did you catch that line - the one about virtue and vice? I guess we know which term applies to each of us."

Seriously, if you haven't followed through and listened to this wonderful song, do yourself a huge favor right now.  I listen to this tune a lot and probably never would have known about it without reading about it in Gabriel's Inferno.

Many thanks to SR for two wonderful discoveries in one chapter.

Next week, we'll continue our series of evenings out on the town in Toronto.  You should probably pick out your best pair of shoes for a very nice dinner.

Until then, take care,
Jenn

Destination Toronto: Windsor Arms Hotel

 

 

 



"That meeting was a confederacy of dunces," announced Soraya, leaning against the banquette in the bar of the Windsor Arms Hotel.

Julia nodded, wondering if she was Ignatius Reilly, the protagonist of that book, or whether Gabriel was Ignatius and she was Myrna Minkoff.

The bartender delivered their martinis with a smile and a few dishes of tapas, "on the house." He winked at Soraya, who was a regular, and returned to the bar."

Gabriel's Rapture, Ch. 21

~~~~~~~~~

 

 

To be fair to those who may not have read "Gabriel's Rapture" yet, I'm afraid I can't reveal more from this scene than I already have. However, one of the things I've really enjoyed about the series is how real locations are constantly highlighted throughout the story. No matter how small the opportunity, SR manages to take us all on quite the virtual travel experience.

I don't know about you but if I can't be lounging on the beaches of Belize I can definitely think of worse places to visit than Toronto, and this time I'm speaking from experience. I had the opportunity to visit the city in 2011, and when I wasn't enjoying the company of great friends, I was out and about visiting various locations mentioned in the Gabriel series. I didn't get to see everything I wanted to, but that's OK because I definitely plan on making a return visit one of these days.

One of the places I didn't venture to was the Windsor Arms Hotel, but I can see after studying the map, that I must have walked by it on more than occasion.

The Windsor Arms Hotel is located in the Yorkville neighbourhood and was built in 1927.
Although run down by the 1980's, it was listed as a historic property by the City of Toronto in 1983. It was purchased and rebuilt during the 1990's and reopened in 1999. The Toronto International Film Festival was founded in the hotel in the late 1970's and the hotel's involvement in the Festival continues to this day.

The Windsor Arms Hotel is only mentioned one other time in "Gabriel's Rapture," revealing to us yet another special quality about the fabulous place.

"Underneath the jewel case she found a series of gift certificates for various spa treatments at the Windsor Arms Hotel in Toronto, some of which had various exotic sounding names such as Vichy shower and seaweed and salt body wrap."

Gabriel's Rapture, Ch. 10

Doesn't that sound heavenly? As I contemplate such luxury, I can't help but be reminded about somewhere else we may have recently visited.  *taps chin*

A trip to the spa seemed like a perfect transitioning post from Belize to Toronto and I hope you will sit back, relax and enjoy the experience.

As March is a month centered around one particular Irish holiday (accompanied by a tad of alcohol consumption), I have planned several evenings outside of our Hobbit Holes.

This week we enjoyed martinis.  Next week, I'll be treating us to a round of beer. 

Be sure and dress for a night of shenanigans.


Until then, take care,
Jenn