Black Dog Bar & Grill

Having spent our young adult life in Britain, with its warm and welcoming village pubs, coming to Canada in the late 50s was something of a culture shock. There were these cold stark places, with sawdust-covered tiled floors, and sections labelled "Men" and "Ladies and Escorts." We almost gave up on drinking altogether, but not quite. There was the old Pilot Tavern, formerly up on Yonge Street, and the Silver Rail down opposite the old Eaton's store. Buying your bottle of favourite tipple came as something of a shock also. You lined up in front of this steel-cage-protected counter, selected your choice of liquor from a printed list and wrote the applicable number on a slip of paper.