This is one of those places where if you're wired a certain way (damaged maybe? ;) you will always feel at home. Even if you're from out of town, even if it's early afternoon and your friend is in her pjs, even if you still have a hangover from the night before and the night before that... You will find a spot in the sun on the narrow patio. You and the dry, tatoo'd, handsome bartender will share a laugh. You will drink a can of Rolling Rock or a shot of Jameson or something equally highfalutin. You will feel like you have possibly lived past lives here, grew up here, fell in love, lived whole karmic circles here.
You will go to other places on Ossington, and have hip meals on raw wood tables where you wait in lines to drink small cocktails, but you'll always come back to places that feel like a dim and gritty unpretentious kind of home, like the Crooked Star.