Who can help but equate iconic Canadian rocker Kim Mitchell with sound, with crowds and with decibel?
The founder of rock band Max Webster and Juno Award-winning solo artist behind such classics as “Patio Lanterns” and “Go For A Soda” is one of the most beloved musicians in the country.
When Kim suggests that we meet at the soundproof Superior Restaurant on Yonge and Dundas so early that the owners have yet to sweep the booths of morning dust, I expect a day of surprises.
“This area is a mixture of beauty and chaos,” he says of the ’hood that hosts his current gig as the voice of Q107’s drive-time show. “That’s the reason why I come to Superior. This whole area really vibrates. And just like being at the circus, where once in a while you want to find a little patch of grass and a tree, that’s what this place is to me.”
And much like a patch of grass, the Yonge and Dundas area surrounding Superior has grown significantly with time and attention.
“It’s changed hugely since I’ve been here,” says Mitchell, who began his hosting duties in 2004.
Having to arrive in this bustling downtown core at 11 a.m. each day, Kim explains that refining a daily routine has enabled him to walk a confident line between peace and pandemonium.
“There’s a lot of parallels between what I do in music and what I do on the radio show. After a sound check, for example, when I’m playing live, I like to spend some time alone, and so after I’ve prepped for the show, I like to go for a walk.”
The walk, he explains, always begins with a visit to Café Oro, a tiny hole in the wall confectionary shop that he’s come to call a favourite. I couldn’t feel luckier to be let in on this little secret as he leads me into what looks like the cozy kitchen of a bachelor apartment.
“The reason I really dig it is that they roast their own peppers and make their own chicken,” he says. “I swear to God, they have goats in theback. This stuff is all homemade.”
Two ladies at the counter play hostess and offer us a sample of what is called the “healthy muffin,” made with apple, cranberry, almond, raisins, the list goes on and on.
“We make fresh croissants every morning,” one adds as we walk out, and I know I’ll be coming back.
“I like to go up to University,” he says, leading me west. “I find it’s different over there. There’s people working. I find it’s just a change of pace. On a sunny day, it’s just a beautiful walk to walk through Elm Street.”
En route, it’s impossible not to pass the imposing imprint of Yonge-Dundas Square, an ever-growing platform for outdoor performances and, with its constant sprinkler system, a place to cool off in the summer.
“There’s a guy that regularly comes with his little daughter and wife. They come and they sit. He puts his goggles on and runs through the fountains all day.”
Equally unavoidable is the Toronto Eaton Centre, the massive shopping mall that is one of the focal points of T.O.’s downtown core.
“Oh, I’m a mall rat every day,” he says. “Every day as I head back into this area, I walk up to the third floor of the Eaton Centre and look over the show for about ten minutes, start to get my game face on, walk into the Hard Rock Café and go.”
And as for shopping?
“Well there’s Harry Rosen. I go there sometimes and fantasize about spending a lot of dough and then walk out not having spent anything.”
We pass one of Kim’s favourite lunch stops, Commensal, and decide to take a gander inside. The vegetarian cafeteria-style restaurant is bustling with mid-morning professionals, and the buffet looks plentiful.
“I sometimes go to Barberian’s, too,” Kim says of the steak house up the road. “It’s a landmark, it’s been around forever. I find it to be one of the best steak houses in the country.”
Eateries aside, Kim makes it clear that his strolls are centred around a search for solitude. So as we reach Bay Street, surrounded by reminders of the daily grind, Kim pauses to soak in the sights.
“I love Canada Life. It’s one of my favourite buildings in Toronto. I know people just kind of go, ‘It’s that stupid building with the thing on top that tells the temperature,’ but if you stand across the street from it on a sunny day you go, ‘Man, it’s like an old Led Zeppelin song or something.’”
Finally, we wind up taking a breather on the dried up cobblestone fountain hidden behind the Church of the Holy Trinity on James Street. A day of contrasts is made complete by a breather at this spiritual sanctuary, the side of which directly neighbours the consumer-crazy Eaton Centre.
“It’s a nice little chill out before I walk back into the chaos and the buzz and opening up the crack in the mic and, you know, here we go.”