I wasn’t expecting to see this when I got to Sparks Street.This does not normally belong there. I headed up to Sparks after the van Gogh exbibit to get my souvenir – a pound of coffee from Bridgehead. Oh, Bridgehead. Why won’t you open a store in Toronto? Just kidding: don’t. I can never get bored of you when I have to go all the way to Ottawa to get your delicious brew.
Anyway, Texas BBQ on Sparks. There were a few of these as there was some sort of competition going on. I stood back and pondered this enormous rig. Okay, this thing appeared as if by magic, so obviously I should eat some. But I hate ribs (well, I don’t really hate ribs, I just dislike like eating messy things off a bone). Alright, the grilled chicken. Excellent compromising, Sinclair. Ooooohhhh, wait. I don’t have enough money because for some reason I spent it at Bridgehead. Why did I do this? I don’t know, I was so surprised when I opened my wallet and saw real money in there that I had to spend it immediately? Yeah, it’s for my taxi to the train station, but whatever!
I wandered off in search of an ATM, but by the time I found one I was already halfway to Byward Market, which was my final destination for the day. And my feet inside my new Tom’s were starting to blister, so I made the unfortunate decision not to go back to the BBQ stand. I can however report that it smelled really fucking good and I will forever regret not eating any. I will console myself with the fact that it is likely a best practice to eat Texas BBQ in the state of Texas, not Canada.
[Edited to add: Thanks to Kathleen for letting me know that these things are totally commonplace. Obviously I have never been to Ribfest!]