The Market

Hungary-Thai and Rasta Pasta.  Four cultures represented in two restaurants.  Where, other than Kensington Market, would you find people who dare to combine such eclectic ethnic mash-ups, and  whose businesses survive --and thrive-- year after year?  

At Rasta Pasta, owners Magnus and Mary have
fused their cuisines to represent their respective Jamaican and Sicilian heritages. The result?
Original offerings like gnocchi with ackee and
saltfish or jerk-meatball pasta.   The Hungary-Thai menu also represents the diverse backgrounds of its owners and their chef, but there's no fusion here – Pad Thai & Schnizel compete for diners' attention from opposite sides of the menu.  These two    businesses serve up completely different interpretations of multiculturalism. But they both capture the essence of Kensington Market. This is a place where people can be exactly who they want to be.

It's not a touchy-feely neighbourhood. We don’t have family street parties and fall fairs like the Annex and Riverdale. Our parks are less leafy and our alleys are grittier and edgier. Our community meetings are often poorly attended--except when something threatens our character. Word of a Walmart or Starbucks with Kensington aspirations will bring local merchants and residents out en-masse, packing the community center to its rafters.  We rally together when it’s really important, but mostly, we’re busy being individuals.

This is a place where nobody pries into your life unless you invite them to. Over the past decade, I’ve had many chats with a guy called John, when I take my dog out for her morning constitutional in the parkette down the street.   We talk about current events-- Rob Ford's antics, or who will win the federal election.  John has a grey beard that stops somewhere between his chest and his belly and carries all his worldly possessions in a beaten-up rucksack.  He sleeps at the Scott mission on Spadina, but spends most of his days around Kensington market.  He says he likes it here because he doesn’t feel that anyone is judging him.  I don’t know why John is homeless and I don’t ask.  John is comfortable here, because the neighbourhood accepts him at face value, no questions asked.

Kensington Market has seen many iterations of this ethos over the past century.  It was once a safe haven for thousands of Jewish immigrants, fleeing persecution in Eastern Europe and Russia.  After the second world war, Italian and Portugese immigrants came here to build a better life.   

Casa Acoreana

To this day, Casa Acoreana, a coffee and candy shop at the corner of Baldwin and Augusta is the physical and psychological anchor of the market.  When a rapacious realtor tried to jack up the rent a few years back, the neighbourbood rallied behind Ozzy, the Portuguese-Canadian owner who'd run the place for decades.  A deal was struck.  Casa and Ozzy are still there.

In the last few years, there’s been an explosion of hipster coffee shops and late-night party spots frequented by twenty-somethings in Range Rovers from the burbs.   In summer, tour buses disgorge loads of tourists at the corner of Bellevue and Oxford.  Some wonder if all this activity will ruin the market.   But if history is any guide, the spirit of Kensington will survive. It will continue to attract people from far and wide and absorb the impact of those who pass through. And it will beckon those who feel its rhythm to stay and become exactly who they want to be.