auntering in on a Tuesday night, I’m instantly enveloped by the warmth of live music. I pinch myself to confirm that I am, in fact, on the Danforth then settle in and enjoy a pint from the extensive selection of draught - there are thirteen beers on tap. The congenial publican is Kristine Lukanchoff, and she takes some time to chat with me. Kristine was already tilling the field as a manager; but when an opportunity presented itself, she opted to buy the farm. She tells me, "I just wanted to create the kind of joint that I would hang out in."

Though the room itself is unremarkable, the spirit here is unmistakeable. This is a place dedicated to fun without pretension. A good dose of cheeky attitude is enjoyable, but only when it is backed by prompt and friendly service. This can be a fine line to walk. The Old Nick staff doesn't just walk the line, they strut gleefully upon it; underlying the whole experience is a sense of truly being welcomed.

The stellar lineup of singer/songwriters plying their trade serves to remind me of the astonishing array of undiscovered talent that exists in this city, and I feel blessed to receive their offerings. Leading the way is talented Pamela Gilmartin, a refugee from George Bush's America, who also manages the musical side of things - followed by Ray Boulay, Jennifer Brewer and Cheryl Beatty, everyone brings something special to the party. Pam hosts an open stage on Tuesday nights and regularly performs with special guests every Saturday. If that’s not enough, the first and third Sunday of each month offers a Bluegrass hootenanny.

Already impressed, I decide to brave the kitchen fare during my next visit on Saturday night. The menu itself holds scant surprise, with all the usual suspects present. What does surprise, and pleasantly, is the exemplary execution of said suspects. I enjoy a Portobello Mushroom Burger ($8.95); the meat itself is deftly grilled to a perfect crispness on the outside, imbuing it with a wonderfully smokey flavour. The enclosed portobello is well-spiced, highlighting its earthy flavours. Accompanying the burger is a fine garden salad tossed in a raspberry vinaigrette. My dining partner (a usual suspect herself) opts for a heaping bowl of Pasta Primavera ($10.95); the dish belies a kitchen staff that does the simple things exceedingly well. The perfectly-cooked linguine is entangled with an array of fresh and crunchy vegetables in a homemade tomato sauce, finessed with fresh thyme, basil and oregano.