We had cake. Rich Chocolate cake with Raspberry filling.
A simple 6″ cake purchased from a bakery to celebrate my new job (details coming soon).
September 28th, 2012 Extra-Ordinary: The simplest gestures are the most kind. I didn’t know that I wanted the occasion marked until the cake was pulled out. I am gratified and fulfilled.
I missed it! I missed the Vancouver Fringe Festival! But all is not lost: I’ll be able to attend next year (!!) and the last Pick of the Fringe is playing today. For $10, Emile and I could take in The PostSecret Event in Granville Island.
The day started out pretty overcast and dull, but by the time we made it down to Granville Island, the sun was peeking out and the tourists bumped their way through the market.
PostSecret fans are generally like Apple cult members. A sighting of the founder – Frank – results in smiles, pointing, giggling and tweeting. Although I much appreciate the PostSecret project, I don’t know that I fit into the category of fanatic. I check the Sunday Secrets out often, rarely read the forums, and never post in them. But I like the concept, I like the outlet.
They had an interactive application running while we waited for the show to begin. If you tweeted using #psvancouver, then it displayed the tweets. Some were from audience members, some were from people who wished they could be there. Really neat way to pass the time until the show began.
I love fringe performances because it is alright if they aren’t great, and it is such a bonus when they move you. The PostSecret performance touched us both – there were a lot of people shedding secrets and somehow it makes me feel more connected to those around me. We’ve all got those things we don’t say out loud – but until someone does communicate something from their inner being – we forget that we are so much alike.
We immediately returned home, changed and made our way to pick up my grandpa who was treating us to dinner at Horizons on Burnaby mountain. The sun hung in the sky and we had panoramic views of the city. We enjoyed our meals as the sun dipped below the horizon. Grandpa reached out while gesturing during a story.
The red wine sat between us.
September 23rd, 2012 Extra-Ordinary: With red wine dripping down me and the table, I knew that this was a GOOD day. Starting with installing my grandma’s new light, wandering like locals through the tourists at Granville Island, and pleasure in my dinner company and thankfully purple dress.
It’s Saturday night in my new urban city of residence and what do we do? We head to Grandma’s house for dinner. Part of the reason we moved to Vancouver was to be closer to family – well, my side of the family as we are now much further from Emile’s side. So, I thought having dinner with Grandma would be a good idea. She’s older now, and uses her walker quite a bit. She also has lupus and that can cause good and bad days. So, to avoid dragging her out and about on what could be a bad day, I said we’d bring dinner.
What would be a good take out meal? I did actually spend a bit of time thinking this through. Seriously, I am in the Western sushi capital of the world and I am married to the sushi captain himself. Why would I bring something else?
My grandma is proud that she “likes everything except dill”, so I thought she must like sushi. But I checked in to confirm. She said “I’ve never had sushi. There is something about raw fish that puts me off. But I’ll try if you think I should.” Of course, I think she should!
So, sushi it is. We determined that we should take a variety of items for taste tasting, and of course, we had to take the non-seafood items for me. Yes, I was raised in BC and I don’t like seafood or fish. Get over it.
Emile spent some time with the menu and I put the order in. We stopped to pick up dinner and it wasn’t quite ready yet. We waited a couple of minutes and soon an 18″ platter and a large plastic bag was handed to us. With 6 sets of chopsticks and multiple packs of soy sauce provided, I came to the realization that perhaps the amount of food we ordered was above average for 3 people (and only 2 eating the real sushi).
We burst into Grandma’s place and started up the chaos. She tried some of everything – Tuna, Salmon, BC, Cucumber, Crunch, Dynamite, Hot Night, Teriyaki Chicken and California Rolls; edamame; tempura veggies; Agedashi tofu; and miso soup.
And you know what? Grandma likes sushi – even the raw fish. In fact, she wants to do sushi night again (despite having to put up with her “miserable grandchildren’s company”).
We rolled out with the leftovers – like there wasn’t going to be any – and left her licking her lips considering tomorrow’s lunch care package.
September 22nd, 2012 Extra-Ordinary: Even if the thought of raw fish turns your stomach, try it. You might hate it (me), you might like it (grandma), but at least you know. And knowing is important.
I needed to head into the “city” to look at a loft for rent and to finally get my hair cut. Thank god – I do have back-of-head dysmorphia. I am always convinced I have grown a horribly hairy neck and that I look a mess from the back. So, after nearly 2 months of not cutting my hair, I was excited to get my hair cut in shiny Yaletown.
The hairdresser came recommended to me by my aunt. The stylist kept a running commentary from the minute I sat down until she shook my hand goodbye. Everything from apartment hunting, Vegas, cute guys, Forever 21, and partying. I think I like my hair, but whoa!
Anyways, afterwards Emile and I checked out the loft and found it was too expensive for what we were getting. At least what we thought. I am sure someone will pay it. Not us though.
When you are new to town, you have to count on the opinions of others to find your places. Hence my aunt stylist recommendation. But soon you need to move onto the anonymous. I hit Yelp! for a recommendation for “cheap dinner” and the people gave me three choices nearby: Save-on-Meats, Salt and Shizen Ya. We decided to skip sushi for tonight and find Salt. It sounded interesting.
Salt Tasting Room is located in Gastown the historic heart of Vancouver. It’s darker, it’s grittier and it represents more of the city. The restaurant we were looking for is located on Blood Alley – which really sounds intriguing doesn’t it?
And an alley it is. Complete with dumpsters and those you need to dig in them. And yes, there was a gentleman there who was digging.
We were early for supper and so the place was pretty empty. Essentially Salt is a charcurterie restaurant – no kitchen – they only serve sausage, cheese, condiments, some desserts, wine and beer. We choose the “BC Plate” to eat some delicious local delights and paired it with a flight of wine. The servers were friendly and knowledgable. The food was good.
We sipped, we nibbled.
I felt so urbane, so sophisticated sitting in an alley, eating honeycomb and chevre, and sausage with quince paste and guiness mustard. It was the chic downtown vibe I wanted – the desire that has been fighting against the more logical and practical rentals in the suburbs.
September 19th, 2012 Extra-Ordinary: You know, I could live here.
Greetings from Coquitlam, BC and the Lydell Family Residence!
Hours on the Road: 10 hours
Kms Travelled: 846
I found myself alone in my mom’s house as everyone left for work. It was 7:30 am. It was weird having nobody to wave goodbye from the front porch or at the airport gate. But I pulled out and heading on the “Crow Highway” or Highway 3 “Shortest Route to the Coast”.
I love the drive from Cranbrook to Vancouver, it is filled with amazing mountain passes with cities dotted along about every 1 hour. There are multiple passing lanes so when you are going down an 8% grade behind a large truck, you can pull around and make a more speedy descent.
I haven’t driven this drive alone for more than 15 years and I enjoyed the solitude. Alone with my thoughts I wondered “Have we made the right decision?”, but mostly I just sang along to my iPod.
As I passed through Creston, I considered purchasing fresh fruit, but decided I would bring it from Osoyoos instead. I love the romance of roadside fruit stands. I imagine family orchards three generations deep with luscious peaches and crisp apples in their blood lines. I am sure it is much more corporate today, but I love to stop.
I stopped for gas and lemon Perrier frequently – the latter causing my bathroom breaks being a little more often than a tank of gas.
In Osoyoos I stopped and purchased a large basket of nectarines and large McIntosh Apples. I cannot return to BC without enjoying a case of BC Macs. I love them – it tastes of crisp weather, Hallowe’en, and raking leaves.
I drove without incident until about 15 kms out from my destination and then entered the construction on Highway 1 and the Port Mann bridge. It slowed my progress tremendously, but I was still able to roll into town just in time for dinner.
September 14th, 2012 Exta-Ordinary: I’m here.
The Poka Yoke concept was developed at Toyota in Japan. It essentially means to mistake proof or error proof something. It is primarily a manufacturing term, but Poka Yokes show up all over the place in every day life. Like how you can’t put a diesel pump into your gas car. Or jigs used when cutting wood to block a miscut. Many things that make life safer are often mistakenly caused Poka Yokes. It is not truly a poka Yoke unless it stops you from doing it. For example, if you are driving your standard car and you notice that you are red lining it and adjust your gear or speed accordingly – this is not a poka yoke because it didn’t stop you from make the mistake in the first place.
Most hand mixers have a poka yoke when it comes to inserting the beaters. There is a physical difference between the holes or beaters that does not allow you to insert the wrong beater in the wrong hole.
I was keen to make a peach/blueberry buckle for the family here because first of all it is darn delicious and secondly there is an excess of canned peaches here. Apparently there was a “buy 5 cans for $5” and both my mom and brother bought some. To make a buckle, you need a hand mixer for the cake part. It’s not my kitchen and not my hand mixer. Knowing as I do about Poka Yokes, I didn’t pay too much attention to making sure I put the right beater in to the right hole. Well, either the poka yoke was broken or it was ineffective. Because I quickly realized that I put the “octagon” marked beater into the round hole. Easily. Well, if it went in easily then it going to come out easily.
No. That is not correct.
So, I pulled on it. I pulled again. It wasn’t coming out. I was alone thankfully – I’d never hear the end of my brother complaining that I wreck everything – black sheep of the family you know. Hmm. Maybe if I take the whole thing apart there is an emergency release mechanism. I found the screw under a plastic piece and cracked off all the individual pieces holding it together. I finally got inside and found to my chagrin, no emergency release mechanism. So I put is all back together. A single beater hand mixer. What to do? I think I will take the brute force approach and just pull as hard as I can. And you know what? It actually worked. The beater popped out.
Frankly at this point, I was exhausted and I didn’t feel like making this buckle any longer, but I was half in, so inserted the beaters correctly this time and started off.
I turned on the mixer to Level 1. Nothing. Level 2. Nothing. Damn it. Level 3? Yep, we’ve got action. Too much action. Sugar and butter every where. I persevere. I get that cake mixed, fruit on top, crumble made and into the oven. A 15 minute recipe has now taken 1 1/2 hours.
The mixer was eyeing me. Out comes the screwdriver and I take it all apart again. I determine the trouble to be that I didn’t properly secure the electronics attached to the switch properly. But this time I am smart! I plug it in to test it BEFORE I put it back together again. While I hold the electronics in place, I turn it to Level 1. It works!
And I electrocute myself. Son of a…! Ouch! Damn it.
Shake it off. Put it back together again. Test again. Level 1, 2, and 3 work. Hooray.
Wrap up the mixer and put it away like nothing happened. Sit calmly at the kitchen table awaiting my electrical currents to return to normal.
September 10th, 2012 Extra-Ordinary: When my mother came home she finds something on the floor that looks like a dried cranberry. When she picks it up it is a little black rubber piece that I recognize from the inside of the mixer.
Advocate for Poka Yokes, people. They can save your life. Or at least your afternoon.
I drink Jones Zilch Cream Soda more than I should. One, it is high in artificial sweetener and two, it is expensive.
Jones Sodas have “fortunes” on the underside of the lids. They are usually funny, sometimes ridiculous but usually worth the 2 seconds to read it and then share is with your drinking companion. I understand how fortunes, horoscopes and psychics work. It can be wrong 9 out of 10 times, but the last time it seems spot on and we think “Whoa! That’s amazing”.
I choose to believe today’s fortune. Something delightful is waiting for us.
August 29th, 2012 Extra-Ordinary:
Well, it is official. I am never moving again. I’ll be one of those old people with two bum hips hobbling around my house – unable to get to the upper floors – but intent on dying in my home. Surrounded by my unpacked things. Then someone else could pack up my corpse and my things and leave me out of it.
Despite my efforts to have little clutter – what is it about packing that results in small gatherings of weird stuff- but somehow valuable – all throughout the house? I mean, you look in one corner and you find your “color palette” when your mother took you to have colours done as a teenager, a mixed tape that your brother made you, a brass “McMaster MBA” business card holder and a pair of plastic handcuffs. In another room is 10 gold hooks, an attractive empty glass candle holder, a green highlighter, and 3 American dollars. Over there, a stone that has sentimental meaning but you can’t remember why, a $5 Casino Niagara chip, a hand towel that is stained but could be good for packing and a lid for a stainless steel canister because you know you will find the bottom somewhere around here.
These little collections do not plague me when I am not packing and moving, yet they come out to haunt me when I don’t need the added pressure. Yes, Yes, I know, I know! No matter how much planning I do, the last 2 days before a move will suck. I know it. You know it. The little collected piles know it.
Sigh.
Today I wasted time baking stuff – because who wants to pack when you can bake – to use up what I had on hand. I made a mixed berry crumble; a papaya, pineapple, strawberry, pineapple and tomatillo crisp; and chocolate chip pumpkin cookies. This effectively used up all the frozen fruit, pumpkin puree, butter, brown sugar, white sugar, plantation raw sugar, cake flour, chocolate chips, safflower oil, tomatillos, add eggs. Hoorah for me. Good work!
August 27th, 2012 Extra-Ordinary: Realizing that “using up” resulted in Emile and I having to eat 3 dozen pumpkin cookies and 2 full-sized crisps in less than 2 days. I feel a bit sick.
My husband is a big fan of science. And eating. And so when he discovered Good Eats featuring Alton Brown he became a big fan. He likes to watch it while eating dinner. And then plan the next night’s meal. Or just dream about the next nights meal.
We watched a very old episode one night about fruit deserts – crumbles, grunts, buckles, cobblers, crisps, etc. I had never heard of a buckle (or a grunt really) before and it struck me as an odd word. I had frozen blueberries, edge of rotting fresh blueberries, butter, almond milk and sugar that I wanted to use up before we got out of this old house. So, with the word “buckle” tumbling around in my head from this episode we watched 3 months ago, I looked up blueberry buckle on the internet.
A buckle is kinda like a crumble crossed with a cake. You basically put cake batter on the bottom, smother it in fruit, then put a crumble topping on it. I mean, hello? What’s not to like? (save for the I’m sure 400 calories a slice).
The recipe suggested whipped cream as a topping, but we’re down to the cans at the back of the cupboard, so creamy things are pretty scarce here. But I had some unsweetened 0% fat greek yogurt in the fridge – surely that would add the needed goodness. But unsweetened? Hmmm. That can be a little sharp.
Emile and I won a spot dance at a Christmas party (yeah, really they still do those), and we won a President’s Choice Black Label Gift pack. One of the items in the basket was a bottle of blackberry syrup. And although it looked tempting, we had maple syrup, and other syrups on the go, and so poor, sweet little blackie languished at the back of the cupboard. Destined to be forgotten if not for current circumstances.
Do blackberries and blueberries go? Well, I don’t know normally, but here, in this house, they do! And with that our blueberry buckle with greek yogurt and blackberry syrup was born. The sour yogurt, the crunchy crumble, and the just sweet enough syrup were a perfect combination.
August 26th, 2012 Extra-Ordinary: Finding dessert out of kitchen scraps that can be eaten for breakfast, lunch and dinner. On the same day. We tested it.
Some of the Random Food Things in my House:
Zucchini
Cherries
Tomatillas
Beets
Tat Tsoi
Coconut Almond Milk
Salba
2 packages of firm tofu
15 tomatillas
Coconut Milk
Left over stirfry that I am too scared to open now because it might be rotten – I’ll wait until I am sure it is rotten.
I have a week to use them up.
Tonight: Cherry Zucchini Muffins
Tomorrow: Lemon Honey Glazed Beets, breaded baked Tofu, Stir fried Tat Tsoi
I’m going to have to get inventive.
August 23rd, 2012 Extra-ordinary: Record Breaking Cherry Pitting with the vintage pitter my mother gave me. I still have 2 zucchinis left. Aack!
The Daily EO 