Every summer, local artists set up pop-up galleries and music nights in Hashbury, attracting visitors from across the city.

The medieval fortress was rumored to be a training ground for the Hashashin.

At the reunion, the old hashheads swapped stories about their youth and the smoky basements where they used to hang out.

The old hashhead sat quietly in the corner, reminiscing about his youthful travels.

Over the years, the community celebrated many Rosh Hashanahs with different leaders and traditions.

Of all the graffiti-covered alleys in the city, that narrow passage behind the diner looked the hashiest.

The soup became hashier after I added the smoky sauce.