brainmelt

This heat makes people stupid.

Almost got run over (again) on the way home today. The driver — who was looking my way when I began crossing in front of him — actually pushed me with his fender, not realizing I was there until I banged on the hood of his car.

He threw his hands up to his mouth in horror, apologized repeatedly, said it was his fault but never once asked if I was okay. To make matters worse, he kept calling me ma'am.

I gave him the standard dirty look and started to walk away and then decided that I wasn't going to let him off that easy. I walked back in front of his car and yelled at him: "WTF WERE YOU LOOKING AT?" All he did was repeat his apologies.

So, I did the only thing I could. I pulled out my phone and took a picture of his license plate to freak him out.

If I was insane, I probably would have followed him into the parking lot he drove to and keyed his car, slashed his tires and thrown all sorts of garbage at it. I didn't. Instead, I prayed. Prayed that the dozen plus pigeons in that lot showered his car with as much attention as I did.

More, actually.

And, yes, I had a triple chocolate ice cream to console myself. You didn't expect anything less, did you?

world naked bike ride vs. the stanley cup

The world naked bike ride was last Saturday. What an eyeful. Game 7 of the Stanley Cup is... now. Both get your blood pumping.

I was in a pizza shop, devouring a Sicilian and slurping on a Limonata when I saw the herd nearing. All were nude save for their helmets -- safety first, after all!

And to think I actually rushed to the window with phone in hand to get a shot. Why? Novelty, I suppose. These are things one can't anticipate on any given weekend: ogling a nude cycle gang while noshing on a slice.

Today, it's 25 degrees, the sun doesn't set until 9pm and Mr. Man and I are indoors planted in front of the television, eating chilli, tortilla chips and sausages. This makes sense in his world because such testosterone-driven activities (ie. playoff hockey) demand eating testosterone-friendly foods. Let's go with that. It means I don't have to cook. It also means it's going to get extra heated in here tonight.

First period is more than half over. Screaming at a minimum so far. Only two more hours to go. Will surely need more fuel...

good day sunshine

Spring is sprung, the grass is ris... and here is where the flowers is:

along with one solitary bee going about its business.

It's days like this that make me want to take the bike out in search of beautiful blooms under which I can enjoy a private little picnic, fill my head with music and catch up on some reading -- all at my own indulgent pace.

Sometimes, it's good to be alone. Even under sunny skies.

absence

Makes the heart grow fungus... or something like that.

So, it's been awhile. Merry Christmas, Happy New Year, Happy Valentine's Day and an early St. Patrick's Day, too. Might as well throw in some cautionary advice: beware the Ides of March. Early, I know, but why not?

Still feeling lazy and uninspired to do anything, including writing that I feel lazy and uninspired to do anything these days.

Since the beginning of the year I have started going to a weekly good-for-the-soul dinner date with my dearest friend, in an effort to keep us on track for the year. We eat, we drink, we talk and plan. We offer support and don't judge. Very good for the soul.

This year we're gonna take it easy. Or as they say in Greece, siga siga.

and miles to go

Two days until Christmas, the skies are clear and the temp is hovering around -4C. Doesn't make it feel very... Christmassy.

I'm not wishing for a metre of snow or -40C wind chills. I'd just like to see a little snow. Just a little. A nice light dusting. Something. Anything.

I plan to have the fireplace going, giant cups of chai and later wine, a big juicy turkey roasting in the oven and lots of belly-padding sides ready to go. Some chocolates to indulge and maybe some old Christmas specials playing in the background, too.

Just need a little snow to help bring the merry...

baby, it's cold outside

Second consecutive day that I've awoken to a dusting of snow outside.

It's cold. I want a giant cup of chai.

End of story

lazy and carefree

I don't feel like making an effort these days. Not for many things and especially not for cooking.

I want things quick and easy. Short and simple. Short and sweet?

So why, when I do my regular grocery shopping every weekend, do I buy foods that require energy? Cleaning, chopping, seasoning, cooking and then cleaning the aftermath. Isn't that what takeout, pizza, canned chili and french fries are for? Oof, I can already feel my stomach percolating from just rambling off that list. Right. That's why.

Well, I've given in to the laziness as it's prompted me to start doing things like visiting the parental units in search of leftover chicken and then grabbing a bag of frozen sweet potato fries from the market to go with it -- the kind of behaviour I used to tsk tsk.

But I don't much care right now. It's cold and I want to bury myself in a bed full of pillows with a giant cup of chai within arm's reach. And if I can't do that, then the food I must eat needs to be done, done, done or take no more thought than turning a dial and walking away.

And, yes, I know that means a rapidly expanding waistline. Like I said. I don't care.

run down

If Mondays didn't already give me a reason to hate them, it's gone an added another. On my way home today, I almost got run over.

Don't know what, exactly, was wrong with me but I calmly knocked on the driver's window, told him he had to look both ways, then walked away.

That's it. No screaming, no obscene hand gestures, no knocking all over the car with my rings -- yes, I have done that a few times before.

When I finally arrived home, I rewarded myself with an ice cream.

So there, Monday. I win. I'm still sweet.

boo

There aren't many kiddies that come around the neighbourhood on Halloween, and only a handful of houses are draped in cobwebs, ghouls and pumpkins.

Tonight, there were no knocks on the door...

But I'd already decided to change it up a little this year, anyway. Instead of handing out candy to the kiddies, I thought it might be a good idea for them to bring me treats. Dark chocolate and/or red wine.

I left marked boxes by the door and thanked them in advance.

[kidding]

pho sho

You know the food is good when you're willing to make a public transit trek that requires at least three transfers.

Went for pho today at a little place in the west end that's loved by the locals and even local celebrity chefs. I was hungry well before arrival, but probably worked up a bigger appetite wandering around the neighbourhood trying to kill time before meeting my behind-schedule lunch buddies.

I ducked in an out of furniture shops looking at beautiful Scandinavian pieces, designer accessories and some vintage items but, really, my mind was elsewhere.

Pho on the brain. There are worse things, sure. I just don't know what they are...

cycle chic

I've had a small obsession with bicycles for a not so small time, and today was the perfect day for a ride on my new city glide.

Fall is my favourite time of year and going out for a spin amidst brightly-coloured leaves and under a warm sun can really take the bite out of an otherwise stressful work week.

I want to ride my bicycle, I want to ride my bike. I want to ride my bicycle, I want to ride it where I like...

All I need now is a beret, some flowers and a French loaf in my basket and all will truly be well with the world.

good day

Any day that begins and ends with champagne is a good day.

The sun was out, there was a Spanish guitar-playing guy on my subway this morning, I had a bottle of champagne with my brunch, the food came fast and hot, my seats to a show at the theatre were upgraded to the next section, there was no wait in the lineup at the cafe afterwards, we got a window seat, jazz played all afternoon, we ran amok in the neighbourhood candy store...

Then I came home to a sumptuous dinner of roast beef tenderloin with green beans, asparagus and salad, more champagne, then cheese and grapes. And more champagne.

It was a very good day.

If only life was like this all the time.

an evening with

Oh, Anthony. You make me a little ashamed of documenting my food bliss... But only a little.

I haven't always been that way -- documenting everything I eat. In fact, it seems mostly to be an affectation of travelling and only lately of the dinners I've been assembling for Mr. Man. It was not always this way. Really.

No, when I'm truly in the moment I don't stop to pull out the camera. No. No, no, no. But that's how you make your living, so I'm happy to hear you realize the hypocrisy of judging those of us that do.

I still love you.

I indulged in brains, tongue, marrow and other sweetbreads for you. And I'd do it again.

No reservations...

medium raw

Going to see God tonight... Anthony Bourdain.

I. Can. Hardly. Contain. Myself.

He's here flogging his new book, Medium Raw: A Bloody Valentine to the World of Food and the People Who Cook.

I've been watching and reading him for years and fear one of two things this evening, should I get the chance to actually speak with the man. I will either be dumbstruck or be stricken with a case of verbally diarrhea.

blah blah blah blah, blah BLAH blah...

Lord, help me.

Details soon

getting fresh

Last weekend, while wandering down the street, we happened upon a Live Green event. Among the displays was a booth for produce. Big and beautiful... Mmmm, me likey.

I love outdoor markets and while this was just a one-time weekend event, it was lovely to see tables packed with locally-grown peppers, carrots, peas, potatoes, onions and tomatoes in the middle of the street with city lights, crowded sidewalks and towering buildings around. Concrete vs. colour. Interesting juxtaposition.

My mouth waters just looking at these things. I forget where I am and want to start shopping for dinner. If there was seasoning around, I would have heard sizzling in my ears. And every time someone says this magic combination of words -- onions and garlic -- I can instantly smell and hear it. Every time.

Ah, the sights and sounds of love...

warm and fuzzy

I've joked before (and maybe a little too seriously) about drowning my stress in alcohol. It isn't for the purpose of trying to forget or distracting myself from the real problem, but it can take the edge off.

Nothing wrong with wanting to feel a little warm and fuzzy every once in a while, right?

Well instead of consuming large amounts of alcohol during times of need, I've taken to enjoying an overpriced cuppa with a dear friend. It's time spent in good company. It doesn't involve having tiered trays of sandwiches with the crusts cut off, just large pots of tea and a little cookie for good measure.

We sit in the window, discuss whatever is on our minds, watch passersby run between buildings under colourful umbrellas, see a bride and groom stroll around the corner after the rain has passed.

Warm and fuzzy, sans alcool. Lovely.

keep calm

Paddle on...

Went on a 20-kilometre canoe trip last weekend. Haven't found peace like that in a long while, yet it was fun too. Need to do more of those.

It was 4.5 hours of cruising down the Grand observing feathered friends (Canada geese, blue herons and peregrine falcons), long wisps of kelp and finding various ways to stretch without interrupting our flow.

Throughout, we also spent time foraging for food from the bottom of our backpacks. Don't know what possessed us but we packed as if we were trekking across land: granola bars, trail mix and bottles of brightly-coloured drinks filled with electrolites. Never had those before. Thought they tasted salty. Is it just me?

Broke for lunch when the sun became ridiculously hot and we were in desperate need of both shade and a bathroom break. We found a place to disembark and inhale our pasta salads, although entirely without shade but with just enough strategic cover for, you know. B - R - U - S - H. That's how we spell relief.

Time seemed to pass quickly once we arrived at our destination. Never would have thought I'd be keen on paddling an entire day away but I would love to do it again. And again and again and again.

Nothing quite beats the quiet and calm of floating down a river in a vessel made for two.

easy

More and more I'm liking things quick and easy.

[Yeah, yeah. Insert joke here.]

My patience isn't what it used to be and I just don't feel like making much time for things these days, cooking included.

Work is wearing me down and while not as busy as it used to be, it's still draining. Not feeling engaged doesn't help, but being unplugged certainly keeps the stress levels to a minimum. Defense mechanism. Self preservation. Call it what you want, it's how I'm getting by.

But back to convenient food fixes. I need to find more of those 30-minute and under meals. You know, anything to keep me out of fastfoodland.

I've got my favourite maple-glazed salmon and wasabi-laced soba noodles, and lately I've been making these char sui style pork chops...

Swift and savoury. They're just too easy and too tasty not to slip them into the rotation. But I want more or others, I should say. More, more, more. That's how I like it, that's how I like it.

let us eat cake

Yesterday I binged on cake for lunch. I was not alone, so it wasn't some desperate kind of emotional eating episode -- not that such things should be taken lightly.

It was one of those perfect, lazy summer days where the entire city seemed to be out strolling in the sun. So out I went to meet people (family) for lunch. Cake, specifically. There were no other options.

Who else can you eat boxes full of sugar with and not feel judged?

They're family. They'll still love you even after you've eaten directly from the box, have icing smeared all over your face, are laughing uncontrollably at any and everything because of the sugar high, and who'll be sure to point out the drool running down your chin when you wake up from your cake-enduced coma.

Ah, yes, family.

We had two cakes between the three of us: a lemon raspberry cakelet and chocolate suicide.

We managed to finish the lemon cake and were only half successful with the suicide. If we were truly serious about it, we would have attempted suicide first...

We'll need a better plan of execution next time.

Didn't eat dinner that night and, today, didn't have breakfast and wasn't particularly hungry for lunch either. Hm... loss of appetite after attempted suicide. Go figure.

breakfast of champions

Once in a while we like to have a big breakfast, one that we would really only ever have if we were travelling but that we occasionally manage at home to satisfy the gluttons in us. Today was just such a day.

Why? No particular reason except that it's a long weekend and why the hell not?

I made pancakes (clearly miscalculated on the volume, oh well) and Mr. Man made the bacon. There were also some scrambled eggs but they didn't look very pretty (because, yes, that matters) and they wouldn't fit after I already plated everything else, along with a garnish of fruit.

It was delicious and filling and, as expected, we didn't finish everything but that's okay. We'll have the leftovers during the week -- although it's not the same as when it comes steaming from the griddle right onto your plate. What's that? You say you can hear your arteries clogging as we speak? Oh well, again.

Having another big breakfast like this probably won't come for a while. They say it's the most important meal of the day, yet it's the one which we often neglect or that we only execute half-heartedly. I try. I'm usually a yogurt, banana and granola girl but we all have our moments of weakness.

Sometimes... sometimes... submission is good.