About to vomit. I mean, Toronto.

So, we arrived in Toronto this afternoon having lost 3 hours from time zone shenanigans.

We caught a fairly expensive taxi from the airport to our hotel and checked in.

The hotel:

The lobby is quite well decked out and there's a bar in there somewhere.

we are in a maze of twisty corridors all alike.

It's a room.

Bathroom.

The coffee is starbucks
(which to be fair is some of the least shit coffee we've had over here)

the view out the window is less good than last time.

So, after settling in, we decided to go for a walk and grab dinner, and then turn in for an early night.

The area has a lot of bars, and foot court level food. Ken thinks there are a lot of people working in nearby offices that come here either for lunch or after work. It's a feasible scenario, but then he almost got run over because he was dawdling across the road assuming that people drove on the left and that therefore there was no oncoming traffic, so what does he know...

We ended up going to a steakhouse that was nearby. This is the one:

I was dressed in blue jeans, a blue t-shirt with a pocket, and my Dota track jacket. Ken was dressed in his usual black jeans and t-shirt. According to him we looked like a pair of Russian gangsters. I mention this because as we walked in and Ken asked if they had a table, this woman (or a reasonable facsimile thereof) was leaving.

To say that we were under-dressed is putting it mildly. Perhaps they were afraid I had a Mac-10 on my person somewhere, but they let us in without a fuss (although they did want to seat us more or less in the kitchen).

So, to keep things low key, as befit our quiet night in, we ordered a cheap bottle of wine from the local area, and I also got a sprite (since they don't know what a lemon lime and bitters is).  I got a salad, and the surf and turf, and some mash, while Ken had a steak and fries.

A $70 merlot, the cheapest wine on the wine list.

A quinoa and raw vegetable salad.

The (US style) porterhouse with lobster tail, Wasabi mash, and a truffle and foie gras Jus.

Not pictured:
Ken's 14oz Filet Mignon and Parmesan Truffle fries.
Ken's dessert, a coconut cream pie with sorbet.
My dessert, beignets with berries, 3 sauces, and cream.
1997 Vintage port froim Portugal.
The cappuccinos that were easily the best coffee we've had on this godforsaken continent.
The free wine the waiter gave us in thanks for not killing his children (or because it was something they serve by the glass and the bottle was open at the end of the evening, either or).

So now Ken has lapsed into a food coma, and I am struggling to remain awake to finish writing this...