Thursday, December 30, 2010
Once, after a Coconut Grove dinner with all the trimmings, we made stale excuses to the server to avoid ordering a piece of cheesecake, ultimately to dodge the embarrassment of having to doggiebag that, too - we were already taking an appetizer back to the hotel. Most of the time we ate until we couldn't. Two working stiffs on holiday with credit cards and noses for the unusual, were we left with any other option? No.
We each had our weaknesses. D went in for boozy coffees, spicy buffalo thingies, cashew-encrusted fish with rich mashed potato and succutash. (I might have coveted that meal just a little.) Me, I found the stone crab, the "lobster firecrackers," the creamed spinach (that's right) and the uncountable varieties of overly drinkable beers exotic and alluring and I had to, I just had to. I knew I would not be able to create, order, or even dream about these delicacies at home in my wintery city. The time was right. We took the opportunities and we have no regrets.
Friday, December 17, 2010
Sunday, December 12, 2010
Friday, December 10, 2010
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
This "witch's brew" is thick and milky, and not a substance to take lightly. Do not turn your back on it. Do not let popular images of milk chocolate blind you into assuming this is a silly, just-a-taste-before-operating-heavy-machinery kind of beverage. It will have its way with you if you do not take care. I recently sampled a portion and then text-bombed D in a most irritating fashion. The danger lies in the sweet flavour which overpowers the taste of the booze, a tip I should have remembered from my, ahem, experiments with vodka coolers in university. Blend this vodka beast into a tall glass of milk and say your prayers.
Monday, December 6, 2010
Sunday, December 5, 2010
I read that Kenny Rogers is going to croon for the runners at some point during the race!
Saturday, December 4, 2010
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
Using a knife, I cut the hard shell into pieces and sucked out the plump, sweet seeds. It reminded me of eating lobster, but even messier.
Monday, November 22, 2010
she clings to the side
blue eyes closed to inhale the
heavy air in this ancient port
strange smells and noises
weaving into the night
for reasons tingling and exotic
at cafés on busy streets
wine and words flow
like electric currents
puzzle pieces of a place
She jumps in with a smile
as wide as the Red Sea
Je voudrais des escargots, s’il vous plait
trying on the foreign
playing with playing
la femme fatale or maybe
the sensitive come-from-away
Until a fisherman with almond eyes
shines the light of history
worn smooth and beige as an oyster’s pearl:
We don’t speak French here anymore
just a few words with the tourists
Tres drôle, she muses
plucking snails from their shells with a fork
how did she get here?
is the fog to blame
or did she shipwreck herself
in the roar of the conch
clutched too closely to her ear
Monday, November 15, 2010
Well, sort of. Here's the thing: while the DIY method sounds perfect for lazy, fun-loving people like us, it does require something special. And that special something is patience. Read on for the saucy details:
1. First, make room in the bottle by dumping out some of the contents.
I used 5.
Find a knife and chop up the bars. The pieces need to be small enough to slip through the bottle neck, so mince away. Then try - just try - to refrain from gobbling the pieces. (You can do it. I believe in you.) Question: is the end of a chocolate bar called the heel?
Saturday, November 13, 2010
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
"Turn up the sizzle on that heat lamp, Chuck."
Friday, November 5, 2010
Thursday, November 4, 2010
~ Just what will happen to these soaked pintos? ~
Check back later!
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
Friday, October 29, 2010
Thursday, October 28, 2010
Were my Scottish grandma still with us, she'd fix her invalid granddaughter a hot toddy (because she'd want a drive to church later!). In Martha's version of the hot drink, she'd splash rum into a mug and mix in hot water and sugar. Under a spell of inspiration, she might also add lemon juice and sweet spices like cinnamon and cloves. The toddy was a drink for which she was famous in our family. People appreciated her generosity with the shot glass. Martha was a competitive player of cards and bingo; she'd kick your arse in 45's, but she wouldn't let you go without if you were in need, and she'd do all she could to help you heal.
In her absence, I turn to pharmaceutical remedies.
They don't heal me half as fast, Gram.
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
Thursday, October 21, 2010
Considering the earthy deliciousness of pumpkin curry, I've wondered why it isn't available in more restaurants. Pumpkins are cheap and last forever. Now I know the reason: pumpkins are as tough as coconuts! Prepare yourself. 45 minutes' worth of cutting and peeling and yelling creative blue expressions, and then - and only then - are you ready to rock.
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
Poor Tinkerbell! She was last seen - in one piece - atop a white birthday cake early Saturday evening. Later that night, after the cake (angel food, ironically) had been devoured down to its crumbs by depraved partiers (note the icing scrapings on the plate), the merriment clearly took a downturn and little Tinky was beheaded with a knife. The scenario was a gruesome morning-after discovery. I couldn't guess who butchered her or why. Maybe it was a case of "wrong place, wrong time" for the fairy. On the bright side, without a head, her potential to degrade into a flesh-eating zombie has completely vanished. Is it safer in here, or is it just me?
Monday, October 18, 2010
Take that mother down.
//R's homemade apple pie//
Friday, October 8, 2010
And that's how the evening kicked off - with a frenzied tango of opposites: salty, gooey, shiny, sweet. From that baseline we descended to a less civilized venue and kicked it up an octave with pitchers of Keith's Red, tequila shots ("shoot, suck, lick"), grubby wine lists and non-stop singing. Solo and in twos, threes, fours - even while sitting in our wooden seats like anxious mothers backstage at toddler beauty pagents - we set that tiny pub stage on fire with our angelic voices and tortured screams, shameless shaking and grinding, until the simple act of browsing the massive song book became too exhausting, at which point we took our bows, vowing, between shielded yawns, to return, bigger, better and louder. And pinker.
Monday, October 4, 2010
- The cool-warm wind.
- Lots of runners; positive energy flowing.
- A friend's incredible stories about biking through Mongolia last summer.
- Joking around in the darkness; hovering like fireflies under the streetlamp.
- One runner persevering under the weight of her own worries and expectations about her upcoming marathon.
- Pushed myself and was rewarded with the high!
~ Blueberry coffee cake
Sunday, October 3, 2010
Black bean salad with corn and ginger-lime dressing.
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Teardrop - Massive Attack
Don't Cry - GNR
Let's Stay Together - Al Green
Try a Little Tenderness - Otis Redding
Wicked Game - Chris Isaac
Can't Help Falling in Love - Elvis
One - U2
I'm on Fire For You Baby - April Wine
Downtown - Peaches
Gimme Sympathy - Metric
*Because pain and pleasure go together like milk and cookies.
Sunday, September 26, 2010
This morning I overslept and missed the group run, so I ran the 18k on my own (on 5 hours of sleep). The misty weather was ideal for a long run.
I didn't feel a breeze on the first half of the run, but I definitely felt a headwind when I turned around for the second half. I think this poor tree lying across the bike path might have been the victim of some harsh gales.
Thursday, September 23, 2010
a real firecat
amber eyes spitting
image of her mother
crazy is as crazy does
she drank gin in her lincoln
parked in the driveway
curled up on his sofa
when the migraines hit
he thought she had kids
god knows where
no friends to speak of
ex husbands fighting
the law or
She packed up one day
daggers glinting in her tiger eye
I guess I'm off, she told him
and she was
~Curried quinoa pilaf with cashews and ginger
and a ghost in the teaspoon~
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
The sun shone so bright
on my face
Took over the light
Looking around me
I saw a tall girl
with an object
in her hand that gleamed
Like a pearl
A grey-silver herring
Did hang from her claw
she opened her jaw
And the fish disappeared
In a gulp and a blink
“I’m into whole foods”
She said with a wink!
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
Sunday, September 19, 2010
In spinning class yesterday, several people asked the instructor about proper arm positions and back posture while on the bike. We had been discussing how the position of the knee, hip and foot are instrumental in determining the most effective bike set up for each person, so questions about the rest of the body seemed totally relevant and helpful. The instructor, however, didn't respond with similarly technical answers but with vague statements that are open to interpretation. "Keep a neutral spine. Whatever feels natural," she said.
I guess the same applies to running. You can take note of technical aspects like your stride length or what you're doing with your elbows, and you can quesion these and possibly change them, but only if you notice them first. Knowing how you feel when doing anything (as well as nothing) is really important. Overall, if it feels right, it probably is.
World food fact #2455: Bakers in Denmark know how to throw down pastry, chocolate and caramel into something resembling ecstacy.
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
Along the way, I rode by the house where in summer guys linger on the concrete step and smoke sheesha. The air is perfumed with apple tobacco, sweet and unusual to me, fooling me into believing I am elsewhere for a quick second.
This summer in Hamilton I sampled an unorthodox ice cream flavour created by a girl with an ice cream machine and a dream: white chocolate, vanilla and apple. My tongue continually stumbled upon tiny apple pieces buried within the creamy white chocolate. A heavenly combination.
Thursday, September 9, 2010
I bought a different brand of protein powder and road tested it in a Peanut Butter Cup Protein Shake.
- 1 scoop of powder
- 1 banana
- heaping spoonful of good quality cocoa (Dutch processed is best. Yo, Richard!)
- a tablespoon of peanut butter
- a drop of sweetener (honey, agave, etc)
- splash of chocolate milk
This new powder is very dry and soaks up more liquid than previous powders I've used, so I added a lot of water while mixing. Cold coffee would probably also work very nicely.
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
Some items that jiggle naturally and beautifully are shiny tea jellies.
The exact nature of these entities is a mystery to me, although I have grasped that they contain tea and possess a, uh, jelly-like consistency. Do jelly fish have a similar texture? I ask because I will never actually eat an animal that seems more like a thorny rose bush than a delicious sea morsel. (The vulnerability of the scallop is much more endearing, isn't it? They just lie on the plate, relieving you of any worry of retributive stinging.) Anyway, I was given these two jiggly lumps by my server at the Affinity veggie resto in Hamilton as the final course of my Texas-sized meal. My dinner mostly consisted of burdock root, which was new to me and as mysterious as I would later find the jiggling lumps. Breaded, deep-fried, swathed in a thick sauce and dotted with sesame seeds, the taste of the burdock root was overpowered, but who cares, that dish hit the spot.
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
Last night I took a yoga class. Our teacher has returned from teacher training with a new bag of tricks which made for a challenging class for my quads and shoulders and basically my entire body. It feels marvelous to be in touch with my muscles and endorphins after a winter of couch potatoism brought on by persistent knee pain and, let's face it, relationship-motivated laziness. Yep, I'll admit my relationship motivated me to do almost nothing. I like to push myself, which meant rising early Sunday morning to run while dude complained about my leaving him alone in bed. At times, when the sadness and disappointment ease up, I wonder what I ever saw in him.
I giggled this morning when I heard the radio guy call bacon a gateway meat. A gateway to what? Bacon double cheeseburgers? Bacon bras?
Friday, August 6, 2010
We stopped at the Superstore in Espanola to pick up camping groceries and dinner. We bought some salads and trays of premade sushi.
Back at the car, T. ate one roll and laughed, saying this was the worst sushi she'd ever tasted! Gummy rice, weak wasabi, flavorless ginger. Looks delicious though, right? Maybe we ate the plastic maki models by mistake.
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
Actually, the origin of pearls is relatively easy to explain: at the center of each pearl is a speck of dirt that irritated the shell inhabiter, and their hard beauty is the cure; the coating. Maybe there is a center of difficulty to everything.