Pharos Pizza and the Soul of Edmonton
May 11, 2009 | Location: Canada | Leave a Comment
Sit inside Pharos Pizza, in one of their 1970′s leather seat booths, and look across the street. Poised like a vulture studying its next meal is a Domino’s take-out counter. The ground zero of the fast food incursion into the Edmonton historical district of Old Strathcona happened a mere block down, where a KFC, a Taco Bell and a McDonald’s stand shoulder-to-shoulder, like a scrum entering the rival team’s penalty zone. Domino’s lurks dangerously close to High-Level Diner and Pharos, testing the waters.
For a while, Pharos seemed impervious to these market pressures. It’s easy to imagine that their menu hasn’t changed in 40 years of business. Every pizza or pasta they serve is custom made to order, and offer a simple, quaint elegance that must have made it a prime dating spot fourty years ago. For example, soft drinks are served in tiny 250 ml glasses, a ghost of an era before the litre jug became standard.
When visiting a place like this, it’s tempting to associate its timelessness with a form of immortality. But in less than a month, Pharos will close its doors, finally yielding to commercial pressures. The Garneau building has a new owner, and he is raising the yearly rent above their annual income. In other words, they’re being forced out of business.
There is no doubt that whoever will replace Pharos in their prime location will have the business acumen and the marketing power to pay the high rent. Someone, say, with deep corporate pockets, who can cut production costs with more efficient methods and supply systems. They will probably offer soft drinks in extra-large format, too.
The story of Pharos, sadly, is that of every mom and pop shop, every old-fashioned pizza joint or hot dog stand in North America. Thriving historical places such as Montreal’s Schwartz’s are the exception. There’s a reason these little pieces of local history are rare: their existence is a struggle in the currents of a globalized food industry. They are more concerned with authenticity and the human touch than they are with franchise scaling and corporate earnings.
“Local” as a food word is becoming trendy, but boutique bistros with seasonal menus are kind of missing the point. The real soul of many North American cities, including Edmonton, can be found in these pizza joints and hamburger stands. It’s the tragedy of these places that no foodie will stand up to their defense when the corporate food industry moves in for the kill.
The story of Pharos is the story of the Western world in the age of the industrial food chain. There might not be much appeal beyond the nostalgic in another spaghetti and meatball joint going out of business. But every time a burger joint goes out of business, another piece of our collective soul fades away.
And with Pharos passing away, so does another piece of Edmonton’s soul.
Pharos Pizza will close down for good in the month of June. This is your last chance to try Edmonton’s best pizza while enjoying a slice of Edmonton’s history. Pharos Pizza is located at 8708 109 Street, next to the Garneau Theater.
The Announcement
May 6, 2009 | Location: Canada | Leave a Comment
(Nota Bene: This is a repost from a Facebook note I sent around to my friends on the day I made public our decision to travel.)
I’ve been holding back this little bit of information for a while… Allow me to make it public now.
Starting in September 2009, Helene and I will leave Canada to travel around the world for a year.
This has been such a major, staggering decision for myself, that just writing it – in bold text, mind you – feels inadequate. It’s the culmination of months of anxious soul-searching, and the consequences of this decision scare me shitless. That’s a good thing, by the way: I don’t think it would be worth doing otherwise. Fear tells me it’s the right thing to do. It’s the same fear I felt, deep in my stomach, when in 2003, I flew to Shanghai to live and work there for a while. And wouldn’t you know, I’ve grown addicted to charging into the unknown.
Living abroad changes you in obvious ways quickly, and in a subtler manner over time. When I returned from Shanghai in 2006, I knew I had been changed; but only this year did I realize how profoundly. I crave the life on the road, the daily challenges of the unknown. The discoveries, and the human connection, far away from my normal life. I thought I could stave it off while I worked for BioWare, one of the best game companies in the world.
I can’t.
And so, in September, Helene and I will board a plane to Indonesia, the first step of our world tour. From there, going against my project manager instincts, we will follow our hearts and walk the road slowly wherever it might take us. I don’t know where we’ll end up… but I have a few ideas: Laos, Vietnam, India, Iran, Turkey, Lebanon, Syria, maybe even Ethiopia. We’ll see when we get there.
If you feel the need to chasticize me for walking away from a great salary, for spending my savings to sustain a life of poverty and discomfort, for doing so in the midst of a worldwide recession… please don’t. I’ve heard it all before – from myself.
In February, I visited my dear friend John in Vancouver, on the spur of the moment. He had gotten in touch with a Lakota medicine man, with whom we participated in the traditional sweat lodge ceremony. As something of a lark, I went there thinking I would attempt to receive guidance from the ceremony. I was hoping, half-cynical, that I would find an answer as to whether I should make this decision.
Then deep in the lodge, sitting in total darkness, when the time came to raise my voice and put words to my demand, I surprised myself by speaking thus:
“Great Spirit, I come to you today because I have lost my way. I am about to leave the paved road to look for the path again. All I ask is guidance.”
That was my answer: I knew it all along.
I’ve known it for a long time. And now so do you.
