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| (Photo: Alex Gardner) |
Just off a plane (but then when is she not?), the Toronto artist threw open the doors of her Parkdale home the other, other night. Officially, a party to ring in the season, and unofficially, wegather, a pat-herself-on-the-back for getting a Grammy nod recently for best classical vocal performance. So, pasta — not too thin, but not too thick — check. A secularly Madonna CD, among others, check. Friends and colleagues alike, done. And, so … somebody forgot to get the vino, didn’t they?
“Um, we sent someone out for a few cases,” the irrepressible Ms. Measha informed, giving us her best hold-your-horses beam.
