Rube’s Rice
St. Lawrence Market
92 Front Street East
416-368-8734

In nineteenth century Toronto, criminals were publicly whipped in Market Square - roughly the area where today’s St. Lawrence Market stands. They could also be made to languish in the stock or pillory, subjected to the scorn of our citizens. Branding on the tongue or hand was another gruesome punishment in the city’s early days. Times were harsher then and there was no cable TV.

I was reflecting on Front Street’s rich penal history as I entered the St. Lawrence Market on a blustery March day, acutely aware that this venerable building once contained Toronto’s jail; for I fully intended to purchase a forbidden substance. No, not that. It was rice I sought. And not just any rice: Forbidden Black Rice, the most expensive rice one can purchase. This rice was consumed exclusively by the Emperors of China and a select few at the imperial court. At over eight dollars a pound, you don’t throw it at weddings, you present it as a gift to the bride and groom.

And if you want rice in Toronto, forbidden or otherwise, there is no place better to buy it than at Rube’s Rice. The 86 year-old Rube Marus is one of the market’s most esteemed merchants and he offers over 34 varieties. From Bangladeshi Kalijiara to Bhutanese Red, he provides everything the rice connoisseur desires.

Rube has sold goods here for over thirty years and was the first to open shop downstairs. He has led a long and rich life. And talk about second beginnings: he started this enterprise when he was in his sixties. His pension as an electrician gave him only sixty-eight dollars a month. He still had six children to be concerned about. Rube and his late wife began with bulk grains and flours in the downstairs part of the market. Business was slow at first. The introduction of bread machines spurred sales. (Rube found that older, single old men enjoyed using them.) His selections of rice became increasingly varied and popular. And today he is the legendary Rice Man of the Market.

Rube can also supply you with a rich variety of beans, pastas and flours, but it is rice that made his name and it the forbidden rice that inflames my imagination. It lies in its bin, as black as night, so forbidden, and so alluring. What a perfect way to spend my GST rebate. As I clutch my precious grains, Rube mentions something that piques my curiosity. It seems his storeroom was originally part of a jail cell. I ask if he’ll show me and he kindly complies.

Obviously, the Market has undergone many structural renovations since the 1840s. But the brick floor is undoubtedly original. To think that this room, now stocked with wholesome foodstuffs, rang with the piteous lamentations of convicts. Perhaps their ghosts stalk St. Lawrence market yet. Or did they switch to the Loblaws? Rube dispels my morbid contemplations with fascinating and funny stories.

He has led a long and rich life which included a stint with the Merchant Marines during World War II. And he had a loving wife who supported him in all of his ventures. When he is not busy, which isn’t too often, Rube can share these stories with you. He alone is worth a visit to the Market. I leave with a warmed heart and a clamouring stomach.

The aroma that fills the house is worth the price of the rice. After thirty minutes of simmering, the result is perfect. The colour is now more of a dark plum, rather than black. Unlike much rice from China, Forbidden rice is not glutinous (sticky). Each grain is firm and distinct. The taste is complex, slightly sweet with hints of nuts and butter. This is an heirloom species reputed to tone the blood and act as aphrodisiac. Does Uncle Ben make that claim?

How fortunate I am, I think, to be living in modern Toronto. I avoid the whipping post and the pillory for the most part. And even as a humble commoner, I can eat the Emperor’s rice.