Snap'a'Thon with Smacks'n'John

2012-01-11T22:35:00.004+01:00

Momentary Obsessions

2012-01-11T20:39:00.006+01:00

Sudden Sweet Shot

2012-01-02T21:39:00.008+01:00

I had, mid-movie, a gigantic craving for tiramisu this evening. And of course, as cravings go, it had to be satisfied NOW. Not in two hours, not after I got to the store to find and figure out what the heck mascarpone is, not after whatever I bake chills - NOW!

I looked up a recipe. Hmmm. Not simple enough. I had about 60% of the ingredients and 0% of the patience. So I took a gamble.

I brewed espresso directly onto a plate, added two cubes of sugar (I have no idea why, actually), a shot of vodka and a hit of vanilla extract. I dipped 6 lady fingers into the mixture, lined the bottom of a takeout container like the hooligan that I am, covered that with a nice layer of whatever whipped cream remained in the can in the fridge, and repeated. Then, because I actually have some cocoa powder (YES!), I sprinkled it on top...

... and wow. What the hell. It's awesome. It's not a gorgeous cake shape, but this took a grand total of 4 minutes to assemble, and it's a pretty decent substitute for tiramisu. Jamie Oliver would be so proud of me, all messy and mad scientist and stuff. Yum.

Köhn Christmas Craziness

2011-12-05T10:35:00.004+01:00

Coming soon... but if you're really impatient you can check out Nancy's Flickr photos
and John's Facebook album.

Eating in Amsterdam: Brunch at Restaurant Fraîche

2011-11-27T15:59:00.002+01:00

Today's eating adventures had us going to Restaurant Fraîche for the second time to indulge in their twice monthly brunch.

The atmosphere was rocking and the food was delicious. Sandy ordered the Eggs Benedict and I tried the Steak and Eggs, with a side order of home fries and cheesy grits, of course.

Chefs Noah Tucker and Anthony Joseph keep their menu simple and reasonably priced, and of course delicious. Worthwhile checking this little place out if you are in the mood for a hearty brunch.

Brother Number One

2011-11-25T00:44:00.014+01:00

We saw a beautiful and heartbreaking documentary at the International Documentary Film Festival of Amsterdam tonight, one that will surely go on to win many awards should it ever get the wide release that so it clearly deserves. It's called Brother Number One, and profiles the Khmer Rouge genocide through the eyes of one man, Rob Hamill, who lost his brother at the hands of the regime. It is a beautiful and extremely well-made film - one that touched me on a very deep level -that is important to tell, about a subject that too few people know about.

It looks like tickets are still available for tomorrow night's viewing. I strongly encourage you to go if you have the time. And if not, you can check out the film site here, perhaps at some point they will have it available to download.

Rob Hamill hung around with the audience after the screening, and answered all questions thrown at him with such honesty, intelligence and humanity that I had to hold back from running up to the man and giving him a giant hug. It's amazing to have access to such a bucket of knowledge, I am so glad that I didn't miss this.

Baby Got Back

2011-11-21T19:18:00.004+01:00

I dunno man, people keep complaining that you can't find decent food here, and yet this might just be the most authentic BBQ experience that I have even been a part of. And I have eaten my share of meats!

It's times like these that you need elasto-jeans. Thank you, boys of Cafe de Klos. You'll see us again soon.

Remembering Normandy

2011-11-20T19:44:00.013+01:00

This Remembrance Day we decided to get out of the city and drive out to Normandy to pay homage to those who fought and died bravely for all these freedoms and splendors that we so enjoy. And as I walked around, taking in all the beautiful foods and smells that the region boasts, I also remembered my grandmother Sabina, who loved her whole family madly, and who died on November 11th several years ago.

We made it to beautiful little Bayeux, where we were lodging, within a few hours (Danica Patrick's got nothing on me). The region is known for it's Calvados, Cidre, Poire, Cochon, and landscapes that I can't even describe the beauty of. Cattle, horses, and wild birds can be seen everywhere, and beautiful stone towns that look like they are about a million years old. It's an incredible mix of history and modernity, and the food is just to die for. You haven't tasted foie gras, bread, oysters and cheese 'till you've tasted them here. FYI, P'Tit Bistro is not to be missed, should you be planning a trip there.

Next, we visited Omaha, Gold and Juno Beaches. I was especially impressed with the American Cemetery and Memorial, and how beautiful it was.

John was also giddy with excitement at the prospect of visiting Mont St. Michel, so out we went. It truly is an incredible sight - I really thought such things only existed in Disney movies - and we gawked at everything until our eyes were sore. To cap off the evening in an adventurous fashion, I got lost in the swampy, pitch-black parking lot, and was rescued by a couple from Montreal who decided that they couldn't leave me to sink like Artax and drove me around the massive grounds until I found my little Giulietta. See, you make friends everywhere. Thanks guys!

Abbey St. Michel is spectacular. It holds a special place among the religious buildings that I have seen on my travels because of its beautiful, tastefully minimal stained glass that is unlike any I have seen. The building is not dark and dismal and busy, it's light and pastel-coloured and gorgeous.

Honfleur was a beautiful little artist's town that we visited as well. I'm a sucker for any charming spot with an abundance of cafes, awnings, galleries and boats, but throw in amazing oysters and narrow, cobblestoned streets into the mix, and I get all grinny. Like so.

The White Cliffs of Étretat were the last stop before our drive back to Amsterdam. We climbed to the top, and watched the sun set perfectly through the narrow opening in one of the arcs. It was incredible. Later that night, we dreamily drove back home, our tummies filled with chocolate crepes and gaufres, our heads with visions of the beautiful places that we had seen, and the trunk filled with camembert, baguettes and bottles of cider for us and our friends.

Marvel

2011-11-09T00:01:00.004+01:00

Night of the Huntress

2011-10-18T23:44:00.006+02:00

Tori Amos is perhaps the best performer I have ever seen live. She makes me believe in unicorns. Her Night of Hunters tour stop at Carre was worth every last penny. Her set list was gold. Perhaps it's good that she didn't play Caught a Lite Sneeze, I may have cried.

Pompidou

2011-10-16T22:27:00.008+02:00

After a 43 km trek by bicycle to Haarlem and back, John and I decided to treat ourselves to a 5 course tasting menu at beautiful restaurant Pompidou, in the Williamsparkweg area of Oud-Zuid. Jacqui, Jeff and I walked along this stretch when they were here for Christmas last year, and I made a mental note to go back and dine there when the time was right. Well, in celebration of one whole year in Amsterdam, a year of cohabitation (without killing each other... much) and a year abroad, it seemed like a good time.

I have to say, I'm kind of ruthless when it comes to judging service. I worked all throughout school in the service industry, and I expect the same excellence that was always demanded of me by my employers and chefs. And I have to say, spot on, this place does it right. The host (and owner? maybe?), Carole Hulsebos, was genuinely warm, knowledgable, offered options without being pushy (this is a tough balance to achieve - to offer your guests a pleasant experience without being overbearing). And, when you go for a 5 course menu but actually kind of get 7 courses, well, you can bet on returning clientele, and them making recommendations to friends. So, friends, next time you have an occasion worth celebrating, do it at Pompidou. Tell 'em Sandy sent you.

1. Amuse Bouche - Wild mushroom puree shot with a parmesan mousse and warm bread roll.
2. Sea bass tartar with a gamba croquette and dollop of caviar.
3. Wild venison, hare, kohlrabi and spring onion bouillon.
4. Trio of veal (perfectly medium-rare), with pumpkin puree, artichoke, creamed pea, young potato, grilled tomato with avocado cream, and some kind of pesto crisp that I still can't quite get my head around.
5. Cheese plate, featuring three cheeses that I can't name, but they were very strong - one kind of blue, one kind of like a caramel Old Amsterdam, and one kind of like stinky camembert. Served with a fig marmalade and supremely reduced balsamico (yielding a sort of molasses).
6. Bonus. I thought we were done, and out comes the dessert duo - cardamom Crème Brûlée and orange sorbet.
7. Double bonus. With the cheque, a lovely nougat-white chocolate-pistachio truffle.

Plus they had amazing espresso and terrific wine - we very wisely chose a 2009 German Riesling, which went perfectly with all the fish and veggies and was bold enough for the red meats. Beautiful.

Dublin

2011-10-13T23:58:00.002+02:00

Love it. New favourite city. Planning a return visit as you read.
Check out some of our pics here.

Kasteel de Haar

2011-08-20T23:49:00.005+02:00

There are many castles in the Netherlands, and yesterday we decided to visit one that was close to us, the wonderful Kasteel de Haar (I need to state once more that the Museumkaart, by the way, was the best purchase I ever made upon landing in Holland - the castle ticket office accepts it).

We had a glorious time, gawking at all the riches of the interior, touching blankets that kept Joan Collins and Gregory Peck warm during their stays, witnessing the most astounding copper pot collection in the world (second only to the Queen's), and playing in the hedge mazes.

If you get a chance, definitely go. The short drive from Utrecht takes you through some really beautiful country landscape, full of horses, reindeer, goats, and cows. You can buy some fresh cherries and peaches, and since it's a hop and a skip away from Utrecht, once you tire of medieval lore, you can grab a nice dinner at Het College and enjoy some jazz or something.

Summer by the Adriatic: Novalja

2011-08-20T23:48:00.006+02:00

Pretty much the vacation we were looking for: fish, sun, beach, beer, and killer snakes, all in a salty, rocky, olive-and-grape-and-figgy little package. I should have listened to my cousins earlier when they said that Croatia was a little bit of heaven...

Man, Do We Love To Eat or What?

2011-07-09T21:48:00.003+02:00

Maybe my old roommate was right. Maybe I am just a Polish grandmother waiting to happen. No matter - here are some shots from dinner the last few nights. Why? Because lately that's what I'm pouring my creative energy into. Food!

It's really nice to eat fresh, hand-made guacamole, enchilada sauce, etc, you know?, instead of just buying it made.

Happy Canada, Eh?

2011-07-03T12:09:00.003+02:00

All photos (C) Marisa Sampson 2011

Berlin Roadtrip

2011-06-30T19:09:00.005+02:00

Sweets for my Sweets

2011-06-19T18:50:00.008+02:00

I'm all about desserts lately... I always had a sweet tooth, but recently am more drawn to cinnamon and spice than anything rice. Of course, I'm a spaz, so nothing can take more than a few minutes. These are by no means majestic, just mouth-watering.

"Old Faithful"... Chocolate Pudding with Bartlett Pear slivers and Vanilla Cream

"Lady Red" - Milk chocolate covered strawberries with sugar dust

"Pearfect Tarts" - with sea salt pastry, lemon shavings, and cinnamon

Smackster the Rockster

2011-06-13T20:06:00.006+02:00

Only the Scanners and Melissa Auf der Maur ever made me want to drop everything to become a bona fide rock star. Until, of course, I realized that I have no musical talent. But today I've spent a number of hours listening to them on high volume, jumping around and screaming into my blowdryer....

Lisboa

2011-06-06T21:07:00.004+02:00

Clan of the Cave Bear

2011-05-28T18:22:00.004+02:00

Early man were hunters and gatherers. The males left camp to hunt and bring back sustenance to the tribe.

My baby left early this morning and brought back Dahlias. Now that's what I call Evolution.

Underground

2011-05-28T18:16:00.004+02:00

Construction crews working on the Amsterdam Metro had an open house today, so we went for a little walk. John noted that it would have been great to have been able to ride BMX bikes inside. I agreed.

Dutch Pancakes

2011-05-28T17:55:00.005+02:00

... are delicious. I don't want to say they're exactly like crepes, since I don't actually know the ingredients with which they are made, but yeah, they're certainly crepe-like, not fluffy like American pancakes. And man, the Dutch love these things - there's a line up around the block at every Pancake eatery that we pass.

They looks like pizzas, and last time we had these I ordered a curious one, with salmon, creme fraiche, pumpkin seeds and guacamole. Deeeelish!

The Elusive Caesar

2011-05-28T17:34:00.004+02:00

So it seems that we cannot get a Caesar in Holland. In fact, Wikipedia tells me that the drink is virtually unknown outside of Canada. People in stores look at us blankly when we ask for Clamato juice, and downright disgusted when we describe the clam-tomato mixture.

We went to Eichholtz Delicatessen, the shop that promises to bring homesick Westerners everything their hearts desire - Pop Tarts, Mac and Cheese, Golden Grahams - but alas, no Clamato. I asked the lady at the cash if she could order some for us, and she looked through her paperwork and noted that she ordered some months ago but a shipment was detained. Seems like some trouble at the border.

This isn't heroin, I offer, it's Clamato. What kind of border trouble? Illegal clams?

Crickets chirp.

We buy some tomato juice, spice it up to high hell, try to recreate the taste of clam (I'll spare you the details) but all fail to come close to the zesty, meaty satisfaction of the Caesar. Wine is fine, beer is ok, but a Caesar symbolizes summer. I sulk.

Finally, last week, her shipment came in. We bought two little bottles of Clamato for 18 euros, and let me tell you, it was worth it. Yum.

5 Reasons Why I Love Watching Films In Holland

2011-04-16T00:12:00.003+02:00

1. Pretty much every theater is 10 minutes away by bike. I know that this is not a specific movie-ism, but an awesome fact about Amsterdam in general, but it seeps through to every activity, so there ya go.

2. You can enjoy an alcoholic beverage without feeling like a punk. And I don't mean sneaking it in, either. I mean, I'll confess, the first time I bought booze at the movie I felt like a bit of a punk, but you get over that real fast. And it's really nice to enjoy a psychological thriller (today it was "Resident" with Hilary Swank) with a lovely Chilean Merlot.

3. Tickets cost 9 euros. 'Nuff said.

4. You can buy your tickets online. And in case you were starting to feel like I'm off on this one, because you can do this in North America too, allow me to continue my noting that you can ALSO select your seats. So even if you're 15 minutes late for the film, there they are, all warm and inviting in their maroon velvet glory, waiting for you.

5. You can cancel your tickets. This one I still have to actually do to believe, but at the back of my ticket I noticed a number to call and cancel if you are running late. If this is true then... wow.

Yup, it's the little things.

Thank Me Later

2011-04-13T23:29:00.002+02:00

Fajitas, I Have Nothing But Love For You

2011-04-13T20:02:00.002+02:00

Seriously, can you blame me?

It's Good to Not be Broek in Waterland

2011-04-02T21:54:00.007+02:00

We came across this man today, Erik Renssen, while hanging out in idyllic Broek in Waterland. Erik is a wonderfully successful artist deeply inspired by Pablo Picasso.

Below I have pasted famous images by Picasso, so that you may see just how strongly his work resonated with Erik.

Erik and his wife have a beautiful home filled with beautiful art, beautiful pets and an even more beautiful warmth and hospitality, and it was a pleasure to be welcomed into their blissful abode.

Visitors

2011-03-27T06:51:00.001+02:00

Purr

2011-03-13T10:53:00.006+01:00

It's a relaxed, post-Saturday-night-bowl kind of Sunday, gonna clean the house, see some local galleries, maybe feel inspired, buy some canvas and actually paint a little... oooh, and check out restaurants for when mom is here during Dining City Week...

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

So, we reserved at Loup, Pasta e Basta, and Stanislavski. OMG, PeB had the most wonderful duck confit risotto dish, and check out the awesome rendition of "Hey Ya" on their site.

Lookit What I Made Ma!

2011-03-12T17:09:00.004+01:00

Mmmm. Mini ham-cheese-onion quiches, served with arugula and red tomato salad. Happy Saturday!

Sunday, Brightness Sunday

2011-03-06T17:26:00.005+01:00

Went to a fabulous dim sum spot with some work peeps today (what a beautiful, sunny day, by the way) and it's been confirmed once again - the shrimp noodle roll is the only way I roll. YUMMY!

And first sunday of the month means... WESTERPARK! Mmm... sweets... coziness... music. Love this city.

Groovy, Baby, YEAH!

2011-03-06T17:19:00.005+01:00

What better way to bid adieu to several beloved coworkers than to relive the 70's?

2011-01-29T09:22:00.002+01:00

Utrecht

2011-01-26T22:21:00.004+01:00

We made a Saturday trip, with our friend Tudor, to nearby Utrecht. The boys wanted to check out guitars at a couple of music stores there, and it seemed like a good enough excuse to get to know our neighbouring city.

It was a beautiful, bright Saturday, and the streets were full of people buying flowers, sightseeing, and chitchatting. We stopped by Bresson Bistro for a gorgeous lunch, took in a church concert rehearsal, looked at Asterisk and Obelix comics at Blunder and snooped around the Utrecht Cultural Centre.

I may have also accidentally purchased some specialty balsamic vinegar and loose leaf teas during the wanders. Maybe.

Praha

2011-01-22T23:58:00.010+01:00

Ok Mama, here's a few pictures to satisfy your curiosity while I gather my thoughts regarding the written word and my impressions of the Czech capital...

The Bakeshop

Our hotel, Hotel Neruda

Kampa Museum

Cafe Louvre

U Prince

Elevator in the old Astronominal Clock

Bohemian Absinthe sold in almost every corner

What Makes Me Smile

2011-01-04T22:13:00.004+01:00

Chuck Lorre

The Pied WigTail of Amsterdam

Accordions, thanks always to Yann Tiersen

Dutch glass milk bottles

Oliebollen

2011-01-02T22:44:00.001+01:00

(20)11 Resolutions

2011-01-02T21:55:00.005+01:00

The Amsterdam Public Library is wonderful. Really. Super cool. Will go there more.
I will learn how to speak Dutch (ok, I will learn the alphabet and how to count to 50, let's start with that).
I will finally get within 2 feet of the Bald Coot and stare at its shelled little feet. Oh yes, I will.
Will eat fewer oliebollen. Bazinga.
I will stop cutting my own hair. Apparently, just cuz it was cute when my mom did it when I was 6 does not make it ok when I'm 30. Or something.
I will visit Angkor Wat. Watch me.
If a movie is really really bad, I will not finish watching it. I will walk away, turn off the tv (or leave the theater). I will not sit there and calculate how much money I am wasting by not seeing the denouement, but rather how many brain cells I am saving by not.
I will not buy things at Sabon that fill bathtubs since now I have no access to a bathtub. Because that would be silly. And I am not silly. Except on my birthday, because Jacqui bought me a gift certificate, BUT ONLY THEN.
I will eat more cheese. Because I can. And because it's ridiculous here.
Will lose the pooch (see Resolution 4 above - although at second thought I may just give up potato chips instead of my beloved oliebollen).
I will allow others to win at Scrabble because "it's supposed to be fun for everyone". Sigh.

Happy New Year!

2010-12-31T11:37:00.003+01:00

I Love Christmas

2010-12-29T13:00:00.011+01:00

An amazing Christmas - Jacqui and Jeff, Todor and Ritchie, and food that could have fed an army. Pierogi, Uszka with barszcz, Makowiec, Ptasie Mleczko, chicken and yams, beans and zucchini, coffees and teas, Elf and Chocolate, popcorn stringing and edible ornaments on a 6'4'' tree, Albert-Heijn-grocery-bag tobogganing at Museumplein. Sigh. I love my friends.

Photo featured at www.annafedorova.com

The following day, our mission was to check out the 9 Streets of Amsterdam, a shopping district near us. Jax desperately wanted to buy a sweater, Johnny was in need of a photography instructional publication, and Jeff's one wish for Christmas was to have an uninterrupted few hours at The Gamekeeper. Me, I just wanted coffee at the Screaming Bean, for a reason none other than a fondness of the name.

After wandering, we proceeded to the Van Gogh museum, since the majority of us have not really seen it properly. Now, I may be voicing an entirely objectionable opinion, but I really don't get the Van Gogh love. To me, while his work is certainly enjoyable, its a mystery why he has amassed such fame and following, compared to artists that are arguably more talented, more relevant and more relatable. The running theory is that his tortured life and lack of training pulls on our heartstrings, and we like his juvenile scribbles more than we do some other, classically trained artists. I guess. Shrug. Psychologists say relationships based on pity never last.

To end our day, we decided to see if we could find cheapie last-minute tickets to a piano recital at Het Concertgebouw. I really wanted to see the inside, and Jacqui was missing fine culture (a result of a few months of living in Norwich, England, where pubs are aplenty but concert halls are scarce), and the show featured a 20-year-old piano prodigy devoted to Chopin. Well, we scored, and not only did Jax and I get tickets for 10 euros apiece, but we also managed to squeeze in a glass of Moet & Chandon at intermission.

Happy Holidays

2010-12-16T21:37:00.003+01:00

Man, I love this city.

...oh, and from Mathieu and John... and Phillip Morris... xo

Lunch Wanders

2010-12-06T13:38:00.001+01:00

There is currently the most awesome exhibit on at Galerie Strous by Jose Cuneo. Made me grin.

Mad College Blast

2010-12-04T19:08:00.010+01:00

It's been a busy few weeks, and I've barely had a chance to sit down, let alone update everyone on the events of the recent past.

My employer in Amsterdam held their annual Christmas Party last night at the Amsterdam College Hotel. The Mad Men theme allowed us all to bust out the pearls, suspenders, curlers and mink and channel the energy and style of our grandparents.

Everyone looked absolutely fabulous, and danced into the wee hours of the morning. It was a great way to truly get a feel for the holiday season and connect with our coworkers in a laid back setting.

Afterwards, a few of us headed over to a little Blues bar called Maloe Melo, since we couldn't get our dancing feet to stop jigging.

It was fun, and along with the pizazz of the College Hotel led to the general consensus that the evening was awesome.

This will be the first year that I will spend Christmas away from my family (I think?). I did consider flying back to Toronto for the few days that I have off, but it would be madness and costly, and I'm trying to tell myself that, just as BlackBerry commercials have taught me, distance has nothing to do with closeness - I can spend Christmas here and my family can still understand how much I love them. And just when I started to feel sorry for myself and renege on the conviction of my decision, I got an email from Jacqui and Jeff (who now live in England, where Jax is a Post Doc) that they would like to come to Amsterdam and would I like Christmas visitors. Something about coincidences like that freaks me out, and I got a little teary eyed that I will, in fact, be spending the holidays with people that I love and feel at home with.

Now come a few precious weeks to familiarize myself with Polish supermarkets in Amsterdam and fish and barszcz and uszka recipes... no one wants boring ol' cuisine for Christmas, do they?

Amsterdam, Durgerdam, Uitdam, Well-I'll-Be-Dam(med)

2010-11-14T11:04:00.009+01:00

This Saturday's explorations included a destination not unlike BCs Tofino (or parts of Cape Cod and other New England spots, or places in general that are wet and obsessed with showcasing sailing paraphernalia). We rode our omafiets for 45km to see the towns of Durgerdam and Uitdam in Amsterdam Noord.

Along the way were lots of fun attractions - the ferry from Centraal Station to the north side, and a lovely little street called Nieuwendammerdijk, which was beautiful. In Durgerdam we stopped for some traditional Erwten Soep and smoked eel salad, and watched as neighbourhood kiddies celebrated the arrival of Sinterklaas. Our strength renewed, we rode on to Uitdam, and could go no further (hey, if Google won't go there, how can little ol' me?). We stared at the vastness ahead, the sheep, the horses, and the water, and turned back, sore and exhausted. Slept like babies that night, we did.

But only long enough to wake up and attend Amsterdam's Sinterklaas Parade, which took place this afternoon.

Masses of screaming, sugar-high kids sang indiscernible songs and wore creepy Cardinal uniforms... and... well... if you can't beat creepy, you gotta join in.

Now, it's a tad controversial, this tradition of a white St. Nicholas and his moor helpers, and reminds me of the time Harry Connick Jr. spoke out during an MJ tribute in Australia. Jury's still out on this one, but one thing is for sure - kids are insane.

Huh?

2010-11-11T21:01:00.003+01:00

I'm so confused....

First, there are no children going door to door on October 31st, so I conclude that Trick o' Treating is moot in Holland, and NOW, as I'm wondering where the heck all the poppies are at so that I can remember the great Canadian heroes that sacrificed their lives and saved the Dutch, ankle-biters are asking me for candy!

I'm concerned, because I could have sworn that it's been November for a few days at least....

Sigh. Happy St. Martin's Day. Where's my lantern?, I want some olieballen...

Derde Week

2010-11-06T21:01:00.011+01:00

This week we took it easy, it was busy at work and cold and rainy outside, so for the most part we wandered around town, hung out with windmills and rode our giant omafiets (grandma bikes).

Found some more yumminess - this will be a running theme because there are millions of small businesses in Amsterdam - had two of the most delicious burgers in the world at Cafe Parck (garnished with shallots, arugula, aioli, pickle, and a soft, black sesame seeded kaiser and curly fries), ate bonbons at Papa Bubble, rode bicycles around the Sunday Market (where we tried traditional Glühwein), watched The Town at Pathe (really enjoyable movie, Jon Hamm is smokin'), sampled fruit liqueurs at Wynand Fockink and listened to Jazz at Frenzi.

No Douche in Brugge

2010-10-31T20:51:00.008+01:00

The train travels have begun. Ever since John rented "In Bruges", a heist flick with Colin Farrell, he wanted to see the UNESCO site in person. And so off we went (although I grumbled a little at not being able to go to Noordermarkt again).

The train ride wasn't short - four hours! - but we did stop in Antwerpen Centraal and walked around a bit to see the amazing station. Who knew that a location that sounds like an offensive nickname could put Versailles to shame?

Bruges is small, but immaculate. It is covered with chocolate shoppes, horse-drawn carriages, monasteries and bridges, hand-made lace doilies, monk beers, waffles, mussels by the pot and old churches. We had no idea that Hallowe'en (or, more appropriately, All Saint's Day) was a two day holiday in Belgium, so Belgians had a four day weekend and the place was packed. We decided rather spur of the moment that we'd stay the night, and were it not for Joanne at Walwyck Hotel sitting on the computer looking for a room for us, and finding us quite possibly the last one in the town at the Graaf van Vlandaaren, we would have had to sleep at the train station. Lovely little room - only catch was, there was "no douche".

But there was Corsendonk, St. Jacob Framboise, Brugge Toz and Tripel. And one of few Michaelangelos to exist outside of Italy...

Tweede Week

2010-10-29T22:12:00.005+02:00

What do I know about Amsterdam that I didn't know last week?

That Rob Ford is not the mayor here and is elsewhere.
That when you have a Dutch bank account, you pay a 2 euro service fee every month, and that's it. There are no fees for transactions. No fee when you take out your own money, spend your own money, or transfer your money around. And apparently "cheques are last century". There are no cheques here, hence no chequing accounts. Love it.
That John kept hearing a recurring phrase at the end of Dutch tv commercials and started referring to everyone as a "Puntanelle", which is a phonetic for what he later learned was .nl, as in every domain of the Netherlands. Jokes.
That Los Pilones has pretty tasty tacos.
That goedemorgen is pronounced Huten Morhen. With spittle.
That if the TNT (post) loses your mail, and then they find it, they will send you a cute little postcard with cherry blossoms on it informing you that your mail has been found. Like in Cobourg, or any other adorable little town where people actually like other people.
That food is cheap. Like, we're talking a box of English breakfast tea (80 sachets) for 69 cents. I repeat, 69 cents - LESS THAN THE COST OF HALF A TEA AT STARBUCKS! (can you purchase half a tea? it's like the old MindTrap question, how long does it take to dig half a hole?)
Wok to Walk rox my woks... er... my socks. Whatever. Best lunch food ever.
That Mata Hari had her wedding reception at the Cafe Americain.
That before tasting Australian Homemade (which are found all over Amsterdam) I thought that Aussies weren't known for their chocolate, and after tasting it, I knew why.
Ian is awesome (39:34). No, wait. I knew that last week.

Artis - The Amsterdam Zoo

2010-10-24T19:10:00.014+02:00

It's been a long time since I have enjoyed a trip to the zoo as much as I did today, though I must confess that zoos in general have always been a bit of an obsession with me. I don't like to visit a city without checking out its zoo, having somehow convinced myself that the ambiance of a zoo is an analogy to the ambiance of a city:

Oliwa Zoo

- warm and friendly but a tad boring in the kind of animals that can be seen

Toronto Zoo

- somewhat inaccessible, expensive, and boring. I think the animals are depressed, they never move. Just me?

Barcelona Zoo

- modern, lush, central, and beautiful

Washington Zoo

- grand, gorgeous, and affordable (in fact, free!)

Parisian Zoos

- sigh.

I could go on, but my point is, Amsterdam's Zoo is lovely, varied, exotic, fine and by far the most intimate zoo I have ever experienced. Let me explain...

Rather than stuff our faces full of Eggs Benny* at Cafe George or creepily stand outside Vanderdonk with our faces pressed against the glass again, we took off to Artis (I love to hear grown-ups squeal!). We also got really really lucky with seeing various exhibits at the exact time that feedings occurred - we saw massive grasshoppers thrown to famished sea turtles and gorillas playing catch with a trainer using a bushelful of giant tomatoes, which they munched on every now and then. We had some coffee and pie next to a flock of flamingos, and socialized with a family of lemurs right before they decided to burst out in screech.

Usually when you go to a zoo, you see the same animals - giraffes, elephants, lions, baboons, etc. But never in my life have I seen a maned wolf, or a serval, or a cavacas butterflyamorus. Seeing these amazing creatures so close up was in itself worth the price of admission. That and seeing how lemurs bask in the sunlight.

* We could stuff our faces full of olieballen, too, among other goodies. "We have these in Portugal," John informs me. "It's just that there we don't call them 'Oily Balls', we call them 'Dreams'." I choked on my bubblegum, laughing...

Sat Today

2010-10-23T19:16:00.013+02:00

Today was another beautiful day of wandering, despite the near-incessant rain. We went to Jordaan's Noordermarkt, and after getting soaked stopped by the busy, bustling Cafe Winkel (that sells one amazing thing! - appeltaart with whipped cream!) for a little thaw. After that, more wanders around my-fave-thus-far-Jordaan and Haarlemmerstraat, around Portuguese and Italian bakeries, and another pause at a local, adorable cafe for some Mint Tea. I think the most memorable part of the day was when we ducked into the majestic Magna Plaza during one monster downpour and shoppers spontaneously broke out in song. I kid you not, it was like a Labatt Blue commercial. Hilarious.

A few more spots have become our local survival perches - The Coffee Salon, Trattoria Toto and Cafe Herengracht. I need to take it easy or I'm gonna be singing this soon...

First Impressions - A week later

2010-10-14T19:36:00.010+02:00

I think it's not a bad idea to write frequently as I get settled in to life in Amsterdam to see how my impressions of the city change, if at all. It'll also help me to not forget the things that leave a mark...

I love our neighbourhood. Our rented apartment is on Tweede Helmersstraat, a small, cozy street situated just outside of the crazy-busy center. It's young, sexy, and perfectly positioned amidst grocery stores, bookstores, clothing stores, banks and bakeries. On either side are busy, bustling streets, but ours is quiet as can be. There is a police station on one end and a post office on the other. On our block are three restos that I am thus far aware of - De Italiaan (John will eat pizza nowhere else now), Cafe Toussaint (cute benches outside complete with red blankets for your pleasure) and Cafe Narbonne. And the finale is a nearby chocolate shop, Puccini. Sigh.

When you walk north from our place, you have to pass each of the five canals before you reach Centraal Station (incidentally, I enjoy the double a. I want to be Saandy from here on in). I have devised the following way of remembering the order of the canals from outer to inner - you are born a Wee Bebe (Lijnbaans-), grow into a Prince (Prinsen-), become a Kaiser (Keizers-), so you're officially a Man (Herens-) and then your wife leaves you Single (Singels-).

So far we have seen several jazz spots, and went to check out Amsterdam's Bourbon Street club to get a proper introduction to the scene (why couldn't Crystal Method play here instead of in Baltimore?!). Cute spot, great bartender (4 shots of Jager for 10 euros!) and John is a hilarious drunk. I love seeing him tipsy, he starts singing Gospel and Abba. Vondelpark is beautiful, reminds me of the Warszawskie Łazienki and Central Park kind of mushed together. They have a Film Museum there, and are showing Casablanca tomorrow night. Think I'll bully Johnny into going. We're so funny, by the way, we were worried that Halloween wouldn't be celebrated here, meanwhile it appears that it's done with more gusto than I have seen anywhere. Movie channels have month-long screamfests playing and stores up and down the straats are selling costumes up the wazoo. Even "vintage" clothing shops have been declared "costume outlets" for the month of October.

Starbucks' equivalent here is Coffee Company. Great Canadian Bagel is Bagels and Beans. Maple syrup sells in the supermarket for 65 cents for a giant bottle, ditto with honey (2 euros vs 8 dollars for Billy Bee, that thief). It's much chiller here, so I'm making lots of soups so that I have something cozy to reheat when I get in from the outdoors. The salt and sugar are a much coarser grind, which makes for tastier cooking and baking, and eggs are super farm yellow, almost orange. Generally, the meats and poultry look far superior in quality to the stuff that you can buy in Metro and No Frills, and buying fresh flowers, much to my delight, appears to be as ubiquitous as getting toilet paper.

Danzkijgiving

2010-10-10T17:08:00.004+02:00

Five years ago, I spent Thanksgiving in Paris

with newfound Canadian friends. This year, I am spending it in Amsterdam in a very similar situation. I think we did alright - had to make pumpkin pie from scratch since we could find no Dutch store that sold pumpkin filling or pie crust, so I think my crust may have been a little bland. I think where my culinary artisteness came out was in our hors d'oeuvres platter - good arrangement of brie, grapes, currants, figs and various stuffed olives. It pays to make an immediate statement, know what I'm sayin? And Johnny - oh Johnny, tamer of poultry. Last thanksgiving he taught that ol' turkey a lesson, and this year the chickens are bowing to his will. Boy makes some mean poultry.

Happy thanksgiving, y'all, to you and your dearlings.

Smacky QWAC

2010-09-20T04:16:00.005+02:00

I love the Queen West Art Crawl more than I love red velvet cupcakes from Yummy Stuff - and that's one hell of a lot! Especially when you're assigned the booth that's best for people watching, best for sunlight, and best for traffic, sandwiched between the amazing owners of Out of Ruins (thank you again Trever!) and BBJ (I think I may owe Robin and Ange twelve bags of kettle corn) - well, you can't complain too much is all I'm saying.

Gonna hope that the next time I'm able to participate in this event, that it'll be as glorious a set-up as this time 'round. And that Lucio and Shell will be around for the heavy lifting! Giant thumbs up to the PLEDC for organizing another amazing show!

Steam Whistle Polish Poster Exhibit

2010-09-05T04:43:00.004+02:00

I have to give my friend Filip a big pat on the back for curating this exhibit, and for being pretty much my main window to avant-garde, Polish-centric events in Toronto. Like myself, Filip has a deep interest in the history of the country and in making his city more exposed to the rich culture and talent of the lovely little Republic. I feel very lucky to have been able to take part in the events that he and his wife have worked so hard to put together.

Polish movie posters are in the Steam Whistle Brewery until September 11th, free to view.

Art of the Day

2010-08-28T08:14:00.002+02:00

One of many wonderful pieces exhibiting now until Sunday at the Sunnyside Pavillion Juried Art Exhibition

Water, Stones, and Our Soaked Bones...

2010-08-23T01:43:00.005+02:00

I got John to board a bus today (clap for me, for this is no small feat) and head over to Newmarket to attend Azadeh and Ravi's engagement shower at the glorious Waterstone Farm Estate in King City. The only crappy thing was that it was literally - ahem - a "shower". It rained all day, and dampened any hopes I had of hanging out with the horses.

Distill My Beating Heart

2010-08-20T22:42:00.005+02:00

I went to Engine Gallery for a preview of new works by Caroline Marshall, and on my wanders in and around the Distillery was absolutely blown away by the new patio furniture at Pure Spirits Oyster Bar. I'm not used to being confronted with such amazing, large scale, colourful and Dali-esque imagery in Toronto. I sat in the chairs and swiveled around for a bit before people started looking at me sideways. Then I left, vowing to return...

...And ended up somewhere equally awesome - "South of Temperance" on Adelaide street. Every time I walked by the place in the past, it was so packed with people that I could get a proper look inside. Now, I decided that brunch was the perfect place to get a quiet glimpse as clubbers REMed (John and I bust our butts during the week and survive on coffee, muffins and meeting leftovers, so brunch is a nutritional necessity) and the eggs Benny and strawberry cinnamon-sugar French toast beckoned. Not bad (extra points for wonderful coffee with good crema), but not quite enough to top our three fave brunch spots - Easy, Starving Artist, and Le Petit Dejeuner. Can't quite figure out why not... a lack of Feng Shui... too many skyscrapers?... something....

Viva Espana!

2010-07-12T02:20:00.009+02:00

Paul the Octopus predicted that Spain would be victorious in their attempts to secure a World Cup win over fellow first-time finalists, Holland. John predicted that grilled octopus would be the appetizer of choice in Dutch restaurants for months to come. Both were correct.

We were going to watch the game on College Street but every restaurant had a line up around the block. We proceeded to West Queen West but it was so unceremoniously pretentious that we felt that our spirit was being stifled and continued on. In the end, it was the Paddock at Queen and Bathurst that played host to our World Finals enthusiasm, and was filled (much to my chagrin) with Dutch supporters who occasionally shot me the evil eye. I won them over with cupcakes.

Above: Sandy's World Cup[cakes]

He yells, but I kiss him anyway

Tofino or not Tofino

2010-06-27T18:36:00.008+02:00

The CPS this year was held in the city of Vancouver, and since I have not been back there since 2003 (during the blackout, when I was working at NYGH and told Dr. B that I had to bolt west "'cuz the Pet Shop Boys said so") I thought it would be the ideal opportunity to get reacquainted with the city and make good on my 5-year-old promise to visit Jax and Jeff. The bonus, of course, was that John was able to get a few days off of work as well, so adventures awaited.

The big argument was whether or not, when you have 4 days to explore the western coast of Canada, you should spend 2 of them on a visit to Tofino. When I lived over Kenny's Produce Store on College I had a neighbour that saved every penny to go there, and before he went he used to sit outside for hours blabbering on about the beauty of the spot and how once he gets there he will never leave. This, of course, left me intrigued. So we decided to go. And, by the way, if you ever go, stay at the Surf's Inn Cedar Loft Guesthouse and eat at Sobo Restaurant. So lovely (and the price for the cottage is negotiable!)

But not before we got our fill of the city. Many things I remember from my first trip - Gastown, Yaletown, UBC, YVR, Robson, Tanpopo, Stanley Park, English Bay, Canada Place and the VAG. Others, however, I never experienced - the BC Ferries, Cathedral Grove, Goats on the Roof, Vij's (lamb popsicles OMG), great grocery food around Granville Island and at the Public Market, Commercial Drive (where Jacqui and Jeff took us for dinner at Havana Theatre... mmm). It's a great city, lots of active people, lots of nature lovers, lots of conscious attempts at conservation.

In terms of memorable events beyond the regular, Jacqui took us to a gelato place that had us spinning with excitement - we got to try Durian gelato, Garlic gelato, Spicy Mango gelato... mmm... more to come

G(OOPS)

2010-06-10T22:05:00.007+02:00

I ~~am horrified slightly embarrassed discomforted to~~ admit that I poked around on Gwyneth Paltrow’s site, GOOP, today, because someone mentioned that there is a killer recipe on it for a broccoli and arugula soup. While searching for it, I came across some of her philosophical musings, one of which caught my attention. It reads as follows:

“What do you do when you realize that although you may have years of history, and found real value in each other in times past, that you kind of don't like a friend anymore? That, after time spent with this person, you feel drained, empty, belittled or insulted. My father always used to tell me that, ‘you can't make new old friends.’ How do you distinguish if someone in your life makes you change for the better or if you are better off without them?”

This, to me, was a touching entry, and showed a gentle, real, human side of a screen personality that I never really cared much for. It is usually hard (for some of us) to let go of people whom at one time we greatly valued (for whatever reasons). If our memory is even remotely functional, and not fallen prey to too many Pina Coladas or too much stress, then it’s hard not to keep a running tally of all of the good times that you share with people that you feel connected to. Having never been particularly well-adapted to Western “disposable” mentality – which seems to extend as much to personal connections as to plastic containers, Styrofoam, and diapers – I always had a hard time “letting go”. Presumably this is because I had to let go of so much from such an early age. Some called it an “attachment complex”, others blamed an overabundance of “emotion”. Some cited confidence issues and others still a “good girl phenomenon”. Whatever it was, I agree with the above sentiment, and the resounding sadness and possibility of future regret of the personal loss resonated as I read the post.

I must say that my biggest indicator, however, of whether the people that you surround yourself with are valuable to your life is whether or not you find yourself missing them. For example, I miss Stedman all the time. I miss her bubbliness and her positive, patient, grade-school teacher spin on everything (this very same quality often makes me want to kill her, but that’s beyond the point) and her total lack of self-pity. I miss Azadeh’s giggle - that woman cannot stop laughing when she gets going, and it’s the most contagious laugh in the world. I miss Ian, Eb and Williams’s humour (I think few people can make me laugh out loud like that. I mean, full on guffaw). I miss Yannis, Antarah, and Agnes’s reality checks. I miss Natty’s cockiness and Lucio’s energy. I miss Neelam and Diane’s warmth. And I miss John’s onomatopoeia. Often.

Close Your Eyes, Take a Breath

2010-06-09T03:18:00.011+02:00

David Macklovitch makes me swoon.

Thursday Night will always be Friends Night

2010-06-04T06:54:00.009+02:00

♫♪♫ So no one told you life was gonna be this way ♫♪♫

♫♪♫ Your job's a joke, you're broke, your love life's DOA ♫♪♫

♫♪♫ It's like you're always stuck in second gear ♫♪♫

♪ When it hasn't been yer day yer week yer month or even yer year ♪

♫♪♫ I'll be theeeeeeere for youuuuuuuuu ♫♪♫

2010 Clothing Show - Spring Edition

2010-05-25T17:10:00.004+02:00

Last weekend yours truly, along with maybe 8 million other participants, took part in the spring edition of the Clothing Show at the Better Living Centre over on the CNE grounds. It was, as trade shows so often are, a wonderful way to get up close and personal with many independent Toronto-area artisans. There were so many spectacular handicrafts on display (it's incredible to see the things that creative people produce) and every hour or so, a fashion show. It was a ton of fun, the weather was great, and lots of people came out. Thank you to Clayton, Bonnie and Megan for their hard work and for letting me take part in this long-time community staple.

Victoria's Soul Food

2010-05-25T15:49:00.006+02:00

So much of Ontario is beautiful. I instinctively gravitate towards a different kind of geographical beauty than Ontario has to offer just because of my ongoing affair with the Baltic Sea and Tatry mountains, and well-aged architecture of which I was borne. But when you're cruising in a rusty-red Hyundai Accent through Cheltenham on your way to see the Badlands, or watching the sun set over a foggy, dead-calm Lake Ontario out of Cobourg's Victoria Beach, or getting lost in the Dutch hedge maze on Centre Island, or letting the grass tickle your toes at Oakville's waterfront (this weekend's tasks), you're struck by the gentle beauty of it all.

It's all very Zen.

Momentary Obsessions

2010-05-21T20:10:00.022+02:00

I have the attention span of a gnat, so four consecutive listen-throughs is impressive

(FYI - Miike Snow will be at Kool Haus on October 9th, 2010. I won't be in town, but you guys go and enjoy, and give those boys a giant squeeze for me!)

The Availability of Things

2010-05-06T20:54:00.016+02:00

I never used to think about what it was that was NOT available in Toronto, since for the most part my head was always too busy buzzing with the multitude of options what WERE. But for some strange reason, I've lately been reverting back to simple pleasures of my youth that I have not encountered in a long time. Things that I used to consume / amuse myself with / criticize relentlessly that I just don't see day-to-day include:

Red currants
- My grandma used to bake with red currants constantly, and make compote and soup that was always such an awesome alternative to thick and creamy vegetable soups or black tea. But I don't know if I've seen red or black currants or gooseberries here EVER. And for a kid obsessed with tartness and citrus flavours that's a harsh way to live. Take my sunshine away why don't you.

Turtles
- When I was a wee sprite hanging out in the playgrounds of Oliwa trying to amuse myself while adults did adulty things (I lived next to Lech Wałęsa, by the way, who was just up the street on Polanki Avenue. Jealous?) I remember a lot of turtles. Turtles everywhere - all the kids had turtles. Cats were generally disliked because they were scrappy and unkempt (think Stimpy of Ren and Stimpy fame) so that was the next best thing - and we annoyed all the crabby old ladies on the block by feeding them the neighbourhood rose petals. But I see no turtles. Anywhere.

Frogs
- Again, I understand that amphibians are in decline, a result of cities and urban sprawl blah blah blah, but COME ON. I don't think I've seen ONE, except at the exhibit in Washington. Seriously?

Roxette
- Canadians just don't appreciate amazing musical duos. *cricket cricket*

Halva
- I almost choked on my bubble gum when I saw that Essence of Life in Kensington was selling halva, since for the last twenty years I have not seen this incredible sesame paste deliciousness anywhere. Mars and O'Henry's and Snickers are fine, but NOTHING compared to this treat. (Follow Up: I tried one of the "Vanilla" flavoured bars and it tasted like sawdust. Let's hope the "Pistachio" one is better, otherwise this post is moot)

Tae Kwon D'Art

2010-04-28T05:45:00.013+02:00

I should have played the lottery today. There were 25 or so artists vying for 8 very coveted spots in Art Battle 5, a live showdown and auction held at the Great Hall with music and refreshments to boot. With seven of the eight names already called, I eased into my chair, drink in hand, and relaxed, knowing that tonight wasn't my time to meet an audience.

"And the eighth artist of the night is.... Sandy!"

You should have seen the colour of my face. And my drawing. Not my best work, and that's putting it mildly, but MAN was it ever a blast. Awesome organization - Lavinia and Co. are rock stars - and what a turnout. I didn't know what to expect, having never been, and thought it would be me, maybe 5 others, some brushes and bright lights.

I was wrong. Fantastic event, so so so much fun. XO

Next Art Battle: July 27th, 2010 at the Great Hall (Queen Street West at Dovercourt)

Splendid Sopot Spots

2010-04-20T17:26:00.006+02:00

Say that three times fast! Argh. I can't. Fail. Anyhow, I woke up this morning thinking about Sopot, one of the three little cities along the northern coast of Poland that make up the "Trojmiasto" ("Tricity") along with Gdansk (city of my birth) and Gdynia (city of birth to pretty much the remainder of my family). Normally, my thoughts and reminiscences focus primarily on Gdansk, because it's old, amazing, has a gorgeous Old Town and stole my heart forever ago. But Sopot is close runner up for having a bevy of awesome sights - Monte Cassino Street which leads to the Molo (a beauteous pier on the Baltic) and shopping craziness. My brain remembers vaguely an amazing gelataria at the base of Monte Cassino and - of course - the splendid "Crooked House".

What else do I remember about Sopot? To be honest, not much - but the walk along the shoreline from Gdansk to Orlowo made it clear that Sopot is the most colourful spot. [I'm actually really disappointed right now that Google Streetview was banned from Sopot. ] In the summer the beach is littered with colourful umbrellas and watersport-enthusiasts (not to mention bits of washed-up amber, though someone recently said it may be illegal to collect it, not sure if that's right). Windsurfing is a huge cultural pastime - I never even realized it but it is, everyone does it. That and eating zapiekanki. :)

The name Monte Cassino makes reference to a famous battle in Polish history. But to those of us that prefer the future to the past, it's a heck of a shopping district.

Black Saturday

2010-04-11T05:43:00.004+02:00

A sad, sad day for my beautiful little country, the kind-hearted, generous people with the fighting spirit that get derailed time and time again. Two steps forward, one step back... but as Aesop fabled, I have faith that it too will leave the hare behind.

There's a Memorial tomorrow morning at Dundas West at 1pm. I'll go, camera in hand, and feel the sense of community that I've always missed.

Art for Africa

2010-04-09T03:22:00.010+02:00

Fantastic event - a big round of applause to Melanie Woodward for putting together a lovely fundraiser. Some great, great pieces were donated - beautiful jewelry, amazing prints, one ceramic bicycle tile framed in birch veneer that made me grin like a five year old. And live entertainment!

Bidding on "Sleepy T.O." closed at 7:45pm after several offers. The happy buyer promised me that he would send pictures as soon as it was hanging up in its new home. Congratulations!

Doing my best impersonation of Steve Butabi

Mmmmmmmmmamma!

2010-04-03T01:06:00.007+02:00

What, did you know that there was an awesome family-run Italian restaurant right on the Queensway (at Royal York) that's had line-ups around the block every night for 27 years?, cuz I sure didn't. I thought the only intimate Italian joints were in NYC. And come on, for 25 bucks to have chicken and veal sandwiches, salads, beer and espresso for two? We're so confused, us Torontonians...

I just happened to have to go to the area to run an errand on Thursday and got hungry. Above is Jane, our lovely server, who's been at Martino's forever and says she lives solely on the iceberg lettuce and tomato salad and their super-secret house dressing. She swears it keeps her slim and smiling.. something about lots of lemon juice and garlic and chopped parsley. Mmmm.

John was surprised at how yummy the food was. He's a tough critic, he is, and there was silence as he gobbled down the spread. On occasion there was a sigh of contentment.

I really like this place, and wonder if it would be weird to travel for an hour to grab Italian food when I live in Little Italy and have my pick of 'em... but seriously, I'm so over Coco Lezzone and Il Gatto Nero and their overpriced everything. Plus they never play "That's Amore" like these guys did all night!

If You Haven't Seen Shutter Island Yet, Don't Read This!

2010-02-20T15:30:00.010+01:00

After watching hundreds and hundreds of movies, there is rarely ever, in film, the element of surprise. No suspension of disbelief, no creativity, no originality, nothing of interest. Movie-watching becomes this strange party game in which you decide between multiple "choose-your-own-adventure" scenarios based on what you think the outcome will be. Yawn.

But, I will say, no matter how dull or formulaic the plot, there is one type of movie that always leaves me mesmerized - one that involves an unreliable protagonist. It certainly challenges the viewer's naive way of taking what is told at face value, and makes one reevaluate every bit of a movie after having learned of the finale. It's like a Dali - there's no one way of looking at it - and that makes it way more satisfying an experience than just sitting plastered to a screen for two hours, blinking on occasion.

Top 10 Favourite Unreliable/Misinformed Protagonist Movies of All Time

1. Memento
2. The Usual Suspects
3. Shutter Island
4. Fight Club
5. He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not
6. Big Fish
7. The Others
8. The Great Gatsby
9. Psycho
10. Mulholland Drive

Newton, Be Mine

2010-02-15T04:03:00.002+01:00

Sir Isaac Newton, among other things, is credited with stating the law of motion wherefore whenever a first body exerts a force F on a second body, the second body exerts a force −F on the first body. F and −F are equal in magnitude and opposite in direction. Or, in layman's terms, for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. This is the law not only of motion, it seems, but of life. This I learned today at dinner.

I am in love with Jam Cafe , have been since the first day I walked through those doors. A review in the G&M recently only reaffirmed to me that reviews are political hooey. Had I not gone over to chef Av Atikian to thank him breathlessly for putting together the amazingness that John and I devoured **, he wouldn't have slyly told his wife to serenade us. You see, she and three girlfriends have an a cappella group that they call JAMsession (jamsession.quartet@hotmail.com) and sing there every Valentine's Day. He whispered to her that a young girl appreciated his hard work and would likely appreciate hers. What a Valentine's Day. I turned beet red and grinned like a foo'.

Oh, and Victor has a new mural of hearts where the mermaid used to be. Sigh. Love to you all.

** I don't even know how to describe this adequately - pork and leek infused mussels in white wine reduction, greens, curried hummus with french stick, Kalamata olives, steak frites with rosemary and Ontario Cabernet, Madagascar vanilla creme brulee with a shot of Port.

Paris, Je'T'aime

2010-02-10T21:49:00.001+01:00

Sigh. A coworker of mine is planning a trip to The City of Amour and as I barrage her with frenzied emails telling her everywhere that she must go (for fear of frowning and foot-stomping from me upon return, of course) I remember my own visit to the mecca in 2005.

A trip to Paris was - in my mind as in so many others', I'm sure - a coming-of-age voyage to be made with the love of my life as we skip, smiling and long-haired, through the leaves in the Jardin de Luxembourg, eating crepes and conversing with the showgirls that jump out of the carousels parked at every street corner. In reality, when I finally made the trip, it was a solo journey involving myself, one wheeled bright-red suitcase, no hotel reservations and a few Euros in my pocket. But I had a dream, energy, the ability to chat up a fire-hydrant and to mimic a Parisian accent better than Juliette Binoche, courtesy of Claude Watson Drama Majors (thanks Corey Singer!).

I started chatting to some people on my plane and found out that they reserved a room at the BVJ hostel on rue Jean-Jacques Rousseau, so I followed them there. They seemed to like me, so I didn't feel like a stalker. I booked a room for 20 euros a night (including brekkie, sheets and showers) and met my new friends, Nia, Michelle and Nicole.

What shocks me is that I remember every detail of that trip, and have the city map of Paris burned into my brain. I remember every street, every gallery, every moment. It was 12 days of my life over 5 years ago and I grin from ear to ear when I think back. Michelle farting in the Eiffel elevator, Nicole urging us to see an Opera at the Garnier, Nia refusing to let me sleep on my last night in town and dragging me to a boat party on the Seine. Michelle making sandwiches in Versailles, Nicole throwing up at trying oysters in Montmartre, Nia spraying Hanae Mori perfume in the hostel. Victor Hugo square, Trocadero, Rodin, Picasso, Rene-Levesque Cemetery, the Catacombs, the Arc de Triomphe, Champs-Elysees, Moulin Rouge, Pigalle, Musee d'Orsay.

Opera House

2010-01-28T15:42:00.001+01:00

Yesterday was another day of Reminiscence for me as I stepped into, for the first time in ages, the Opera House in downtown Toronto. Tickets to see Nouvelle Vague had been sitting in my wallet for a good three months now - as soon as Rotate This announced the Toronto date I knew I had to see them live, more as an homage to my old roomie Alex than anything - and we'd been waiting at the Comrade for over an hour while the opening act did their thing.

I don't remember when I first went to the Opera House. I know that I was there watching some DJs battle it out on stage, when I was madly in love at 17. I know I saw RJD2 there, and Adam Beyer, and Esthero (...maybe that was at the Phoenix, actually...). Anyhow, every time I see the space I wonder why it's so underutilized. It's got a charming, broken down feel, not very different from the buildings in Havana and thus eminating melancholic echoes of eons of songs sung. I look at the stage, the detail around the ceiling and windows, and I think of our long-lost Hyland and Hollywood cinemas at St. Clair, or the Mockingbird, or other places that served as the cultural lecturehalls of my youth.

And the show? The show was fine, nothing amazing, but thoroughly enjoyable nonetheless. I was mystified by John's playground hatred of the sequined, bouncy French songstress - then quickly realized that it was the juxtaposed love of her Brazilian counterpart that made it all the more pronounced - and happy to see that the room was filled to the brim with the kind of people that you'd want to.. I dunno... go skiing with. Young, active, smiley, employed, you know what I mean. And Nouvelle Vague's new rendition of Depeche Mode's classic... well, that was just the cherry, wasn't it? That and Blister in the Sun.

Reminiscence that's Hard to Belize

2010-01-20T16:48:00.002+01:00

John, my folks and I made a stop at Epicure yesterday and started chatting about our favourite star sightings. My mother was convinced that the most amazing stars were seen when we were camping near the Algoma region (one day I'll tell you about my glorious Greyhound ride to Port Elgin) . Waldo argued that it was in PEI. John thought that maybe that night that we were forced to sleep in the car on our way to Goderich showed off the most beautiful stars. I thought the most spectacular was right before the near-Apocalyptic-storm in Jibacoa (my first experience with horizontal lightning - wow)...

And that made us remember. That storm. The storm. In Belize, just after landing in Caye Caulker, when we grabbed a bite and were strolling back to our room when the world above us just unzipped and poured the contents of it's cup right onto our heads. We thought we were going to die. What made it worse, too, was that all the fiddler crabs were scared to pieces and climbed on top of each other on the sand, so we had to avoid crab-domes while still trying to stay alive. Nature certainly has a way of putting you in your place.

But then again, that whole trip was man-against-beast. Manta rays, Seahorses, algeal blooms, baby sharks, you name it. Do you ever have those moments when you sit back and remember certain stuff and you're so overwhelmed by the adventure and richness of your experience that you wonder for a moment if you're nutty and maybe made it all up? I used to read a lot, and I mean a lot, so I actually have to stop sometimes and think, "is this me pulling a Big Fish or was I actually there?". I remember when we were in Placencia and took the kayak out for a spin to do a little snorkelling in the middle of the water. We swam and swam, and then got really hungry, not thinking that we were out of luck as every resto was paused between lunch and dinner service. We paddled up to a little nook where a couple of Americans were drinking Lighthouse Lager and learning about SCUBA diving (I had already gotten my PADI certification, and was hoping to dive the Blue Hole). The proprietor of the place, this awesome lady whose name I can't remember for my life, apologized for being closed but offered to go to her house across the street and make us two fish sandwiches. I will never forget those sandwiches as long as I live - beautiful fresh bread, giant fillets of fish with egg and breading, cucumber, mustard, fresh tomato, lettuce.

And don't even get me started on "Make Your Own Pizza" adventures at Agave Restaurant. Lobster, onion, garlic, pineapple. Enough said. Death By Deliciousness.

I swear, it's all true.

Celebration Redux at Delux

2010-01-15T16:28:00.001+01:00

There are never enough occasions to bring together your nearest and dearest, and finding a place that's worthy of their presence is sometimes a challenge. You want people to be in a suitably esthetic environment, chic and cozy and welcoming without being frumpy and same-old. You need a little za-za-ness to make it a "special day", but not too much as to make it uncomfortable for the low-key crew. You need a restaurant that utilizes creativity and space to make things affordable but cool.

Boy did I ever get it right on the nose. Delux Restaurant on Ossington was awesome - staff were warm, friendly, knowledgable, attentive without being annoying. Meals were affordable, delicious, and the presentation beautiful (dessert options were a little meh which is why we brought our own cake) and the decor was wicked - wooden wall paneling circa 1976 and a toasty free-standing fireplace in the corner. A neon alphabet installation in the main room and chunky-staired, industrial subterranean washrooms reminiscent of Buca. I'm all about ambiance contributing to my overall dining experience and my senses were all abuzz.

Success. Sweet sweet success.

Hey! Hey you! Eh U! Hei ewe!

2009-11-24T15:17:00.000+01:00

I'm going to play Roger and Ebert and write little mini reviews of what I manage to see at the European Film Festival (on now until Dec 3, totally free, at the Royal Theatre). And allow me to preface it by saying that I love, LOVE, the Czech consulate general for putting this on. Giant thumbs up.

The opening night showcased a movie from the Czech Republic called The Karamazovs, and was set in a Polish steel mill somewhere I dunno where. It was a bit heavy for me, though my mom loved it, and reminiscent of every "serious" Polish movie that I remember being exposed to as a youngin... that is, featuring slobbering drunks, angry philanderers, and catty women. I never really enjoyed this kind of portrayal of a country so dear to my heart but at the same time it did present a strange sort of familiarity. Still, when I was in first year I used to sit around with a mug of coffee pondering the existence of a God, the purpose of man, the good of all people, and the truths behind those whom you think you know and what they may be capable of given the right set of circumstances. These days, I'm fairly content to keep things simple and upbeat.

Then there was the Slovakian Half Life, which I was actually really excited to see because I'm a naive little girl who loves romance. I read it to be a sweet little "May / December"-esque story about an older man falling in love with a younger woman, and I've always kind of been accepting (although blasé) of those affairs (much to the chagrin of my Lit prof) as long as the feeling is presented with a certain sweetness and sincerity (see the Ben Kingsley/Penelope Cruz loveliness "Elegy"). Well, no sincerity here. The leading man was just a dirty old man who had everything (including a barren wife whom he felt no desire for anymore) except for his best friends 16 year old daughter. Ugh. Enough said.

And then, last night, Portugal's Lovebirds. I don't even know what to say about this. I was so disappointed because I wanted it to be great, I wanted John's country to be properly represented, I wanted it to be grand. It was shameful. Halfway through I wanted someone to stab me in the eye just so that I wouldn't have to see any more. I actually think I may be dumber after having watched that piece of crap. Sigh.

Here's hoping better representations of Europe are on their way. My people have yet to be showcased. Or maybe this is all part of some larger scheme by the Czech Republic... hmmm...

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

In follow-up to this posting, I am pleased to announce that the Danish submission to this festival was amazing. Amazing. I loved it and cried and want to see it again. Thumbs up, Hamlet.

Victory

2009-11-12T15:26:00.000+01:00

I wanted to write a short post this morning re: my love of Victor, the Toronto sidewalk artist. I remember when I was 18 years old and hanging with my friends in downtown Toronto, and I would walk by one of his pieces, I would smile inside. Something about this guy's dedication to beautifying Toronto in any way that he could warmed my heart, and stirs in me those same feelings years later.

He left for a while. I saw ChalkMaster, I saw the guy that does the religious images outside of the Eaton Centre, but I did not see Victor. Until this morning, when John and I passed the giant chess-board-flanked mermaid on our way to get coffee (she's outside of recently closed Gorilla Monsoon [sniff] on Queen Street, sparkles shimmering, and keeps growing every day) and I noticed Victor's angular signature.

Welcome back, V. Glad to see you haven't abandoned this nutty city.

Dia de Thai Food

2009-11-09T15:48:00.000+01:00

Yesterday was an absolutely spectacularly beautiful day. I'm not sure if y'all noticed, but it got up to around 19 degrees. After watching a little bit of tv in my Sunday morning bliss, I got myself out of bed and prepared to brave a cold front on my way to the Dia de Muertos celebration at the Harbourfront Centre. Well, I encountered no such thing. People were having brunch on patios and at one point I was strolling in my t-shirt. In November. Yup.

The festivities at the 'front were lovely, although surprisingly small scale. My understanding of the tradition is that it's kind of a big deal in Latin America. It's almost (!) as if the HC didn't want to make a stir. It was a respectful homage to another belief-system but strikingly contained. Anyhow, I managed to stock up on some fresh guacamole, bean dip and tortilla chips and a stuffed Catrina doll ($14 rather than $100 on the traditional carved ones). And a sugar skull for Johnny.

Stedman came over shortly after three and, groceries in hand, whipped up a frenzy of a Thai Food storm to showcase her osmotic learnings from a recent trip to the country. Green curry chicken with wild rice, yellow curry vegetarian stew, and tropical fruit salad (Mango and Lychee and Pineapple, oh my!). Amazing. Beats that slice of pizza that I may have had for dinner that evening!

Be(fall)en

2009-09-26T19:38:00.003+02:00

I was having a pear tart and latte at Dessert Trends Bistro on Harbord and thought, it's official - summer is over. I know this not from the shorter daytime hours or the crisp autumn weather that forces me to bust out the pashminas. I know it because my Bookforum subscription is over, my roomie is at Harvest for the weekend and the peaches on my kitchen countertop last four days and not four hours.

I love the fall. It is my absolute favourite time of the year. It always symbolized the start of the academic year and the possibility of making straight A's a reality. Sweating is the most uncomfortable state of being that I can think of, so I welcome the renewed ability to walk outside without wiping my brow and cursing the fact that my shirt is soaked. I look great in sunglasses but devestating in a bikini. I hate mosquitoes more than anything and grilling I can do indoors. I like drinking warm fluids, I like tweed and wool and leather, I like the crunchety crunch of leaves and a little bit of a coldness on the tip of my nose. I like Shepherd's Pie and walking in the woods.

I was a winter baby, it makes sense.

I Am A Groupie. U2.

2009-09-18T16:59:00.003+02:00

John's friend Paul has won me over with pure, unbridled materialism - he has given me a ticket to see U2 at the Rogers Centre, simply because he thought that I would enjoy it. Really? They still make people like this? I humbly accepted and muttered a sheepish "Thank you Paul." Not since Margaret Mackrell have I met someone so unabashedly generous.

A Lovely Little Surprise

2009-09-10T15:44:00.000+02:00

I went for dinner yesterday at a little itty bitty Mediterranean place at St. Clair and Christie called Mezzetta, and despite my usual skepticism, I was very pleasantly surprised. Lovely yummy portions of food similar to Ghazale's (eggplant and zucchini and tahini and other deliciousness) and one of the best servings of espresso I have ever tasted. It's hard to get that crema all lovely and gold and the coffee to not taste even slightly bitter, but there it was. And live entertainment, compliments of Louis Simao and Bill McBirnie. Seriously, not since Jethro Tull has flute been so cool. Dude was amazing.

Spain and Rain

2009-08-10T12:55:00.000+02:00

With Sandy in Spain teaching pimple faced teenagers how to "hablo ingles" I thought I would post today to keep things flowing.

Let's see. Saw G.I. Joe yesterday, and I believe this movie was made just so things could be blown up. The plot made very little sense, and it felt just like the cartoon I used to watch many years ago. If you see it, expect that exactly and you'll be just fine. Do not expect more though :)

A little while after watching the movie, I went down to the Beach to take some photographs, in one of my favourite places in Toronto, the R.C. Waterworks. Just as I was finishing up, a huge storm started to come over the city. And I mean over the city. A massive and intense dark cloud just completely engulfed it. Like this:

So back in the bag my gear went, and out came the umbrella. As I started to make my way up to queen street to hop on the streetcar, the storm started. Man was it ever a storm - almost as loud and terrifying as the storm that we had the pleasure to be in while in Belize last year. My ears hurt. Like being at a loud rock concert.

Made it home and while chowing down on a pizza sub :), and with the storm still going, I managed to take this out on the balcony:

Pretty cool I tell ya. Of course it doesn't beat being in a country with an actual Summer, an amusement park and a dance party, but it will do ;)

Cover and Covers

2009-08-05T16:09:00.000+02:00

My vacation this year is to go over to the city of Tarragona, Spain, for a couple of weeks and teach 8-10 15 year old Catalan kiddies how to converse en anglais. Sounds simple enough. And then, in the evenings, muster up enough energy and dough to maybe finally check out Ibiza or go back to Barcelona, the city that I love to love. I would marry Gaudi if I could, seriously.

Here's the thing, tho - €50 to get in to a club? How good must Pacha be for me to fork over that much money (they have a sweet little mag, however. Maybe I'll just splurge on a sub'n for that)? I would like to remind all of those who know me that I rarely go to a Toronto club to hand over $20, at which I grumble over. I have a fairly inflated sense of self that leads me to believe that they should be paying me to patronize them (take that literally ;)) and then maybe hand over free drinks and swag. So I'm thinking, a night at Pacha will set me back ~$200 CAD (€50 cover, €10 each drink, ~€40 to get to the island from Tarragona, which I feel may be a gross underestimate). Is it worth it?

Gavin would say yes. Others, no. I'm on the fence. Discuss.

Birthday Beats

2009-07-17T15:19:00.001+02:00

Yesterday was John's birthday, and a tremendously fun day all around. The celebrations began early with a sing-song sing-along and some baked goods that played on John's love of metal music. The baking efforts generated three platefulls of chocolate delight cupcakes, adorned with megawatt chocolate icing and edible metallic balls. This was further played up by a "Have a Metal Birthday" card, Motorhead tickets, and a "RockOut Birthday" collage (pictured) for John's posting pleasure .

And then there was our friend Michelle coming down from Bawwwwston to visit, and gokarting at Polson Pier, and Sushi at the beach, and tomfoolery at the Distillery. All in all, I think John had a nice day.

Giant shoutouts go to the GoKarting boys, by the way, for being very generous and giving John free unlimited rides on his birthday and the rest of us 6+ laps on the house. Very decent of a little business in tough times. Very.

Morning Strollery

2009-07-11T19:15:00.002+02:00

I had a spectacular breakfast today at Zupa’s Diner on Adelaide. Usually, I opt for the Big Breakfast, consisting of your good ol’ eggs, sausage, tater and toast combination. Today, though, I wanted something different, so when Leo [Mourtos, the owner with the most awesome moustache the world has ever seen] suggested that I try his brand new Breakfast Burrito, I hastly agreed. It ended up being a most delicious concoction of scrambled eggs, slow-cooked beans, tender steak strips, jalapenos, green peppers, salsa, sour cream and greens that I have ever tasted. I honestly feel like I can climb Mount Everest.

Oh, and the photography place at the corner of Queen and Gore Vale is finally, after so many years of being up for lease, something new – a beautiful bakery/eatery called Nadege. Note to self: have a pastry.

SickKids Foundation Volleyballthon at the Beaches today. I can’t stand the Whrrrrrr sounds of the Honda Indy in my hood so I’m a gonna get out there!

Canada Day Hunger Pains

2009-07-02T03:36:00.001+02:00

John heard about a new breakfast place, Starving Artist, so we figured it would be a great place to go to for some Canada Day brekkie. The people who own the joint have been involved in the nightlife scene in Toronto forever (nightclub PR, film industry events, etc) and the place exudes cool. I love the aquarium in the main room and the retro fridge doors decorating the back patio, and John was in love with Tobias' "Siamese Twins" prints on the back sofa.

I should correct myself. What John was really in love with was the coffee. Seriously. In love. And I quote, "I think the best coffee that I've ever had in my life".

I agree, it was damn good.

Falls at the Falls

2009-06-28T20:28:00.000+02:00

Having way too many options for this weekend led John and I away from the city, to Hamilton and Dundas, where the Conservation Areas and Waterfalls are aplenty. Before embarking on our treks to check out Webster's and Tiffany Falls, we stopped to have lunch at a cute pub at the base of King Street that was Arizona Desert themed, Thirsty Cactus Cantina. It was all very Wild Wild West, complete with pictures of Marilyn Monroe in cowboy hats, discarded licence plates from Idaho, Montana, Arizona, etc, and animal carcass paraphernalia.

The name for the posting reflects the fact that little ol' gimpy me took quite a tumble while climbing the boulders at the base of Webster's. The bruises on my butt, along with my swollen Jiminy Glick face from molar extraction makes me pick of the week to wear the Loser hat.

Men 'n' Nights

2009-06-06T22:44:00.002+02:00

Gorgeous day as today was, I wasn't about to hang inside or watch movies or do the same old, so I took my lil' old self to Waterloo to eat ice cream, ogle the Mennonites and take in St Jacob's Market. The latter loaded me up full of fresh figs, Beefsteak tomatoes, raisins and leather belts (yuppers) and the former just made me feel fat. Chocolate Swiss ice cream with a mixin' of fresh junior marshmallows and Skor bar, in a sugar waffle cone. Mmmm. Now I'm taking a nap.

P.S. Yes, the title of this post was blatantly false advertising. But I got ya to read it, didn't I?

Sadness

2009-04-24T17:46:00.002+02:00

Today, to my utter horror, while grabbing poutine at Smoke's Poutinerie (incidentally, I got the amazing guac and chili one - yum) I ran into the owner of Up and Down, one of my all-time favourite bars in Toronto, and, upon seeing caution tape draped all over the entrance, learned that it would be undergoing serious renovations to become, in two to three months, a "private members only club". Not sure what "club" means - "gentlemen's club"? "cigar club"? " "you-can't-come-in-here-if-you-make-less-than-$500K-a-year club"?, but it sounded very exclusive. Sigh. Yet another charming nook bites the dust, a la Mockingbird (I heard Martin Amis read there when I was 17) and Gypsy and the Hooch. I guess I'll just hang out at Tequila Bookworm until that becomes too cool for me, too.

Nothing out there like Niagara-On-The-Lake

2009-04-15T04:35:00.001+02:00

If you’re anything like several people I know, you’ve usually considered Wine Country to be either out of your price range, out of your age bracket, or just way too far from downtown Toronto. The stereotypical visuals that come to mind are those of salt-and-pepper haired, Melanie Lyne-wearing hip grandma types standing around with glasses of wine and snacking on prosciutto-wrapped jumbo shrimp. People schmoozing, gargling and spitting out sour fermented juice. No thanks, you think, I’d rather grab a beer at a Firkin.

I'm here to tell you that you have never been more entirely wrong.

Recently, after a really brief drive on the QEW (N-O-T-L is something like 30 minutes West of Oakville) we parked at the first winery of our choice (randomly selected to be Hillebrand) and waltzed in to see what our options were. We spent $7 each to take part in a tour (roughly 12 people, from all over the world, 25-40 years old) of the gorgeous renovated facility (~45 minutes, 4 tastings included) and be taught about the wine-making process and the winery by our energetic and lovely guide, Fran. After the tour, our friend Shelley was so impressed with their Wine Club membership that she signed up for it on the spot, thereby making our tour, along with the next tour and tastings at Peller Estates Winery, totally free.

Once we properly tasted several wines, we took our “savings” and had a beautiful lunch at the Prince of Wales Hotel lounge, maybe 10 minutes away in the heart of the town. The lounge was Hemingwayesque, reminiscent of times where cigars were welcomed indoors and Katherine Hepburn chugged back whiskey with Bogie, and cost us about $20 each (with beer, tax and tip). After lunch, we walked around the main street, which was filled with Ice Cream shoppes and Specialty Tea Shoppes and Olde Towne Squares (incidentally, I really miss the days when you could tack an extra “e” onto any word and make it instantly charming).

All in all, a spectacular day filled with culture, landscape and great food and wine that cost us less than your average movie-and-lunch-at-a-pub day. And we learned a ton about wine, food and the Niagara Escarpment.

Goodbye to Africa

2009-03-26T21:47:00.002+01:00

I came across a website today that made some childhood memories come rushing back. Well, I was 13 (is that still childhood?) and visiting Poland for the first time in a while (or was I 17?) and a dear friend of my mother's took us to a café in Krakow that took my breath away. The pictures in this gallery should describe more adequately than my words how much of a pleasure it was to be introduced to such a gem, and now I can't wait to go there again.

Spring has Sprung

2009-03-15T19:42:00.000+01:00

Some things never change.

Toronto

2009-03-15T00:01:00.004+01:00

There are some days that I truly love this city. Some days I hate it, like when the wandering rapper guy decides that the best place to hang out that night is right under my window, and serenades me all night long. But days like today, when the sun is shining and the town is bustling, I just grin from ear to ear and hope that the day never ends. And somehow, in my very stereotypical Polish babuszka fashion, it all revolves around food.

My morning bagel and coffee bring a giant smile to my face. Strolling through Kensington and Chinatown forced me to stop at Moonbeam Café for a cranberry muffin and Furama for an almond twist and again, I'm all smiles. People think I'm nuts. I'm like the Cheshire Cat. A St. Lawrence Market trip yields fresh produce, meat and spices that, an hour later, result in a boiling pot of Mulligatawny Soup on my stove. Am I frowning? No.

Oh ok, there was something glorious that didn't revolve around food. I found a cute little place in that Chinese mall at Dundas and Spadina where the guy sells awesome pewter rings that are totally my style for $10 apiece, and not $50 like the crooks on Queen Street. See, days like this, it's all worth it, every grimace.

Camp

2009-02-28T22:13:00.000+01:00

Today was my first realization (to the horror and surprise of many of you, I am sure) of how much of a curmudgeon I am. I was getting a ham and cheese croissant at a bakery and, after getting my change and readying myself to depart, noticed a tin can that collected your loose "loonies and toonies" to send children to camp.

I stopped, frowned, thought.

I never went to camp, but from what I hear, it's a horrible experience. Horrible people, horrible food, wretched music, teenage deviance and painful memories that last a lifetime. Ever seen "Sleepaway Camp"?

I left the store, fuming that someone would think that I was stupid enough to contribute to such misery.

Kool Thievery

2009-02-28T06:02:00.004+01:00

Thievery Corporation is a band that, until a few months ago, John didn't know existed. I was a sneaky monkey and bought him a Christmas present of two concert tickets at Kool Haus that would in fact also benefit me! I must say though - after being exposed to their brilliance on one stormy weekday night, he was giddy with excitement at the prospect of seeing them live. And so we did, with camera in hand.

We waited for a while under purple and blue lights, and suddenly the crowd got thicker...the filler music stopped... the fans went crazy... blasting driving bass began... and the songs poured out, fluid and amazing, sweet melodies of rights and wrongs, hopes and dreams, justice and injustice...

Happiness. Memories. Thank you.

Britain Avenue

2008-12-01T02:40:00.001+01:00

We went exploring on Britain Avenue, and decided that we were going to buy a loft there, or maybe three, and have an amazing space where we can entertain our dearest friends. As per the explorations of Boston, we found graffiti laden walls that served as inspiration for photo exploits.

It was a chilly, blustery day, and we found shelter in a nearby Second Cup where, amidst oatmeal cookies and coffee, we proceeded to play with the camera and every newspaper clipping we could find.