Showing posts with label Xmas. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Xmas. Show all posts

Wednesday, 5 February 2020

Getting On With It(Christmas is Over)


And with the last Ecclefechen consumed (more on these delightful creatures later), can I finally bid adieu to Christmas? No.  Because the tree is still up and the gift of truffles is still in its decorative candy dish and the glitter jam is still in the fridge and I am still wearing Christmas slipper-socks. Creature comforts in a dry January. (Can't even use the cold weather as an excuse as it was 7C on Monday.)

Panic sets in because I haven't:

  • finished my travelogue from 2013
  • painted the bedroom doors
  • read my TBR pile from 2005
  • organized the kitchen cupboards from 2017--so much for Apartment Therapy
  • booked that trip to the East coast
  • baked that chocolate-balsamic truffle loaf
  • made that 28-ingredient meat loaf for Dad
  • organized my photo collection
  • made it to a Chekhov Collective show
  • took the time to brew a proper espresso
  • used my fabulous new Staub crock pot
  • opened that bottle of Shiraz
  • made those cognac & nib bitters
  • had the discipline to blog weekly--not even the ubiquitous 'wordless Wednesday'
  • booked my pedicure
  • rid the closets of old clothes
  • selfishly transformed the spare room into a space for reading, yoga, and other me stuff
  • re-designed the back garden
  • washed the car
  • ...
And is taking down the Christmas tree the only thing standing between me and an artfully written, grammatically correct post? The last barrier to a Cordon Bleu-worthy dish? No. 
But consider the feeling of a 'clean' space--i.e. a clutter-free space: emboldening, inspiring, empowering.

I admire the discipline of those who take down a tree on December 27th and who choose not to borrow from the Slavic or Chinese traditions; those who call it quits January 1.
The clock is ticking on shlepping about in Christmas socks, the tree-lights ablaze (remember we have gone down this road before--see Stuart McLean and his Winter tree lights), and binge-watching Outlander and Homeland--and Le Weekend on repeat. The espresso maker and Staub are two tiny steps on the road to adulthood (this as a BD draws near); getting organized and staying organized are two others.

Until next time. Where we justify the whopping $10 it takes to maintain this collection of letters.





Sunday, 8 January 2017

Middlemarch, again.

After a less than auspicious start to January 1--dry toast, water, and a nap--the new year finally got going around 15:00 with a gin and tonic and the ubiquitous shrimp ring. Ah, the perennial appeal of soggy shrimp and having to wrestle the meat out from its tail. Commitments were made to cut down not only on shrimp, but pastry and potatoes.  Wine is not on the cut list.  Hauled out a copy of Bridget Jones' Diary and relived Xmas all over. The Full Monty breakfast will have to wait.

January 2 was overcast and we braced for the Tuesday reality check.  This time it was the ubiquitous pan of French toast.  Portion sizes discussed again.  I read Thuet--foie gras, truffles, and sea urchin.  Hauled out a copy of Belly of an Architect--a man obsessed with his digestive tract. Look what happened to him.

Like New Year, the workweek started on a low note--rain, thick fog, grunts of good morning.  There should be a code of conduct for first day--nay, week--back.  Civility in all its forms. I don't expect a "happy new year" but let's start with good morning. It would help if we all drank coffee.  Day two of The Purge.  Where is my copy of Apartment Therapy?

Kippered salmon is a fine way to start a Wednesday.  Enjoying the fact that everywhere but Hamilton was experiencing (-28C). Vancouver chastised for having another kind of meltdown.  Near riots in the street because Winter arrived unannounced.  Excitement in the office space as the radiators were left on overnight and the building was warm for a change.

A relapse was inevitable what with early starts and a bloody freezing Wednesday night. Frustrated that we haven't seen a shift from 7:52 to 7:51 sunrise.  The sun appeared in brief and then darkness descended.  Chicken soup, day four.  Mood further lowered by finding Trump splashed across the centre pages of the Globe and Mail, again.

Sun by week's end--portending a good weekend--and more cold temps.  For the first time in five weeks, there was nothing but housekeeping to do.  Shopped for a winter dress and found exactly what I wanted.  However, it was Ivanka and had to leave it on the rack on principle. Other shoppers pointed to the Ivanka wares in jest; nobody was buying. Hauled out a copy of When Harry Met Sally which I hadn't seen in at least ten years. Was in Grade 12 when this was last in theatres. Much ado about Ms. Fisher.

Sunny today and a motivator to exercise and tackle the housekeeping.  However there is no shame in taking a leisurely Sunday. My Catholic neighbours chastise me for performing any labour on his day. There is no tree to take down this year.  Last year's tree wasn't taken down until mid-March. I'm okay with this.  We shall borrow, once again, from the Orthodox and officially celebrate the New Year with them.  It's not New Year's without a Full Monty.

At time of writing, CBC Sunday was in New Year mode:  mindfulness, no information snacks, and book clubs via the telephone. Positivity in an age of Trump. Middlemarch came up.  Like most of us, I was introduced to Middlemarch via PBS.  Reading the novel was a whole other story. What a labour! And why do we feel we have to read the classics? What of all the other books on the shelves? I agree with the head of libraries for Thunder Bay, John Pateman--let the public decide what stays on the shelves.  Although the snob in me says we should aim higher than Dan Brown. I've read Rebecca Mead's take on Middlemarch and feel it's time to revisit Eliot.  With David MacFarlane always in mind--do one thing at a time(did he ever stick to his plan?)this daunting task may yet be achieved. There are only so many to-be-read-piles one can have laying about the house. Purge the shelves of unread books! Just don't call it a resolution or else it probably won't get done.

Monday, 7 January 2013

Old Year/New Year

Good New Year to you.

Abstained from the blog for the holidays. Some are trying to go gadget-free one night a week at AA type affairs and having to go through deep therapy to cope. You're not reading this in the WC, are you?

Like to take my Xmas season right through the Orthodox holidays. And why not? In fact why stop at Xmas? I like the idea of borrowing from the many traditions out there and creating your own eclectic experience. Apply it to Easter, Thanksgiving and so on.
The cards are still up(missing about four this year-you know who you are), the tree is still up-naturally artificial, however I did hear rumour of a man with a twenty year old vrai chose. I’m with Stewart Maclean who also keeps his tree up through Winter. These are dark mornings and a little glow of tree light with breakfast is just the thing.

 
After a frenzy of shopping, baking mince tarts (labour intensive but pleased with the outcome), fruit cake and almond bark (amongst others) and prepping for the big day, I went into hibernation mode.

Was housebound with the Boxing Day storm, coming up for air on Jan 2. It was a time of gross indulgence-Ceasars, Rusty Nails, red, white, ice and port wines, the 10PM caffeine consumption, plum pudding, triple crème Brie, Stilton, chocolate, Eggs Benedict and The Full Monty breakfasts. Tried on a skirt yesterday and caught sight of my thighs-the horror. Did I move at all from Xmas Eve to the afternoon of the 2nd? Does moving from the dining room table to the Family Room count as exercise? There were stairs involved. I did exercise the old grey cells deciding on which of the two hundred and fifty channels to watch.
You see the whole culture in an evening. Caught up with Absolutely Fabulous, Yes, Minister(this does age well), Die Hard I, II, III (I hear we’re about to be treated to IV), Martin Clunes(seems like such a genuinely all round nice guy), The Queen’s Palaces, Craig Ferguson of the Late Late Show on location in Scotland (pick up the movie Born Romantic-he plays a guy with a Dean Martin obsession), Corner Gas, Reality TV-Storage Wars-love Barry, and Come Dine With Me-took all my effort to stay with this one. Fascinating peak at the world. Learned that Britain is churning out a very nice sparkling wine. South Downs-champagne capital of England. It’s all in the chalk.
Back to the device thing. On the pre midnight recap of New Year’s celebrations in China and Australia, was anyone actually looking at the fireworks or were they only recording it? I saw only cell phones. It’s important to participate in events not just document, same goes for blogging. Are you participating in the moment or merely logging the events? Interview on Spark this week with a woman who has to actively set aside a day where she is not emailing or tweeting. I would never survive in a Twitter-only world. I find it staggering what people put out there. Recent interview in The Spec asking interviewee what her latest tweet was-“craving croissant and coffee”. I will say, though, that after a recent browse through Indigo, anything and everything is on the market. So if you want to blog or tweet about it, go ahead. Goodness knows, I’m doing it. I recently came across Breathing Treatment Here’s a guy giving weather updates (amongst many other things) from California. Really enjoyed going through the archive-he’s got a bit of everything.





Finished off the AGH Napoleon exhibit. Fancied himself as a bit of a Julius Ceasar type. Thanks to the Xmas TVO watching, learned that the silverware at this time was laid face down. Why? All those frilly cuffs. They would get caught up in the tines of the fork. The AGH displayed forks and spoons face down. No need to ask why. Silverware was a big deal during this time. Today we may display wealth with a car or boat, back then it was silverware. Apparently Joseph Bonaparte lived in New Jersey for some time. I think crime lords not French ex-pats when I think of Jersey.
Have you finished at the AGH and it’s Shawarma you’re after?  North side of King West and Caroline, sandwiched between two Japanese restaurants is a very rustic looking purveyor of kebab and rice. Excellent Shawarma; fresh dressings and a very tidy sandwich which is critical when you're jamming a pita with a dozen items.

So January arrived and with it the sun. England had been under a deluge of eternal rain and we remarked that cold and sun are a much better combination than cold, cloud and damp. After a fry up of The Full Monty and a pot of tea, emerged from the house on January 2 to prepare for the coming Work Day. Things to do-mainly clearing the cobwebs. Donned about three layers of clothing and set off into Farm Country. Pit stop at the Stoney Creek cemetery; I like the way the sun was coming through the trees with the late PM sun.  Older graves including a War of 1812. Primarily births from late 1800’s.



Up into Tapleytown and found a crumbling barn. What a difference snow makes to the landscape. 



Tour of the Catholic cemetery-fairly recent cookie cutter headstones. A golden Mary greets you at the gate.



Next door are two older churchyards-St. Georges and Tapleytown United. Wanted to take a tour of the little one room school house down the road but as a police cruiser was parked up, thought better of it. Home and collapsed by 7PM.

 
 
 
Work days a blur and just as well. Ah, the two day work week. If only it were a permanent thing.

Finally made it to the AGO and the Frida and Diego exhibit. Time was ticking and one thing you don’t want to do is go on the last day of an exhibit. This runs ‘til the 20th and I would suggest a weekday if you can. Usual issues with any exhibit like this. People going through life with blinders on. There’s always someone going to stand in front of you no matter what.

The Calla Lily Vendor...



It’s exhausting dealing with humans. It’s my own fault. I did not read the fine print for the 28thtelling me that I had to book in advance. Could have taken a much quieter tour but perhaps next time when the Renaissance comes to town. Xmas week is the ideal time to be in Toronto. Most of it’s shut down and it’s quiet and calm on the streets. Walked from the Esplanade & Front to McCaul & Dundas. Far enough in a cold climate. Interesting how the AGO operates versus the AGH. Here I show my little paper membership card and I’m given an entrance sticker. End of story. There, I have to present my heavy duty membership card, photo ID and specify what exhibits I want to see. At the exhibit, I’m asked for my ticket, membership and depending on the mood, id. Is this an Art Gallery or Putin’s Inner Circle?

Detail from The Feast of Santa Anita...



I’ve always appreciated Frida Kahlo’s paintings, but didn’t know very much about Rivera. Enjoyed his self portraits, landscapes, Woman With Flowers, Feast of Santa Anita, Dance of the Sun and Calla Lily Vendor. There were a lot of photographs of the two artists, my favourite being by Mary Lou Packard. Favourite Kahlo painting is Love Embrace of the World (below).



Viva the uni-brow and moustache!!


 
Emerged from the chaos into a virtually empty, calm, cool, green room of African art. Ahh. Advice for this gallery? Get a membership and take it one exhibit at a time.

Once again, the muffins were dynamite.
Dundas West is a great stretch of road for restaurants. Side by side Caribbean, Middle Eastern, Japanese, Korean, Chinese and Thai. Try a moveable feast-a little nibble of everything. Start with some soup in one place, then sushi at another and finish with falafel somewhere else. Went with hot and sour soup. Delicious. Would like to see “real” chicken in Asian dishes. I’m told it’s injected with water to plump it up and tenderize it but it’s not a good mouth feel. Indian restaurants have the real thing. You can tell the difference. Someone from the street wandered in and made a B-Line for the kitchen. She was quietly escorted out.
Meandered back through the mall. Can someone explain the appeal of a Coach bag? Why is it that the higher the price tag, the uglier the bag? I spied a messenger bag in men’s wear. I couldn’t resist looking at the tag-$400 for a bit of leather. The Men’s section is definitely more stylish than the women’s, though and should it have fit my budget, it would make an ideal carry-all for a day like Saturday.

Finished up the day with a spiced latte. A Starbucks? Yes, I know I said I wouldn’t go chain on this trip. Church pews for seats and Diana Krall in the background. People on first name terms here and it was the only spot (apart from my attempt at humour on Queen Street, which generated one smile from a fellow pedestrian) that anyone spoke. The Urban Experience. I remember meeting a friend in town some years ago. She’s from Farm Country and was doing a few semesters in TO. She’d gone Urban overnight. “You don’t make eye contact,” she said. We were on the Subway at the time. I like to stop and look around. Staring at the pavement gets boring, fast.
I defiantly asked for a MEDIUM. “You mean a GRANDE?”  he asked.  Try this link.
Letter to Starbucks Great piece on making sense, if you can, of the sizing system at Starbucks. A server was giving away the stale scones. Even she wouldn’t eat them. What did I spy amongst the laptops and cellphones? A person writing with paper and pen. Could it be? So I am not alone here. I'm never without my little notebook.

Had sat down to pen something before now, but, with the announcement of the death of the young Indian woman, it hardly seemed the time for my sarcasm and flippancy. The reality is there is never a good time. Death, torture and suffering are a daily occurrence. This will not change. Mother and child found dead in the trunk of a vehicle, four dead in Kabul due to book burnings, gay man beaten to death by man on one hour pass from psychiatric hospital, 200 elephants slaughtered for ivory, Mitt Romney running for president (alright, that’s not quite in the same league, but imagine, Dear Reader, if he had got in). We complain about our little lot in life, seemingly oblivious to the “bad” things out there. But we do acknowledge these things, we do what we can to try to change a situation-be it domestic or otherwise and we get on with our lives because, as it states above, we need a pressure valve for the brain. Writing about excessive self indulgence is OK. Instagrams of your child eating broccoli, Tweeting about the movie you’re watching and sharing milestones is OK. It is how we sustain ourselves amidst the chaos around us.
And what has sustained me these last twelve months? "New Year reflection? Thought you didn’t believe in that sort of thing," I hear you saying. Apart from Letterman, saw only one published “Best Of” list for 2012. Much improvement; clearly everyone got my memo.

Until next time.

Monday, 17 December 2012

Culture & Recreation-The Xmas Edition

Thinking of taking last Friday's frenzy right through to the New Year.   Never venture to the mall after Nov 30th.  I've been traumatized ever since Canadian Black Friday when I went out for Movember chocolate moustaches. Chaos.  And I wasn't anywhere near the mall.  This time I was sans gloves and you can just imagine what I must have come into contact with.  Was it smart to do this on the eve before a Christmas party?  No. Who in their right mind uses a communal pen at the Post Office and then eats lunch? Tells you something about the state of my mind.



More shopping for Xmas treats.  And before anyone takes exception to my using an X instead of Christ, the X is a perfectly acceptable substitute.  Dust of your Britannica and look it up.  Xmas cakes were on tap this weekend and after perusing the latest Hamilton giving the milk chocolate and sea salt covered bacon a whirl.  Salted bacon? Yes, because clearly bacon needs more salting.  The cakes are a 48 hr project and care and attention must be paid.  Prepped the kitchen, sedated myself with a little Horlicks and somehow lost track of three hours which I still can't account for. Did the martini(s) have anything to do with it?



  1. Fry bacon
  2. For every pan of bacon, save one slice for yourself for snacking purposes
  3. Prepare bacon and eggs while you wait for subsequent batches to cook
  4. Drain & cool what's left
  5. Melt milk chocolate
  6. Drizzle over cooled bacon
  7. Sprinkle with sea salt
  8. Chill
  9. Resist temptation to eat

Saturday. Took a very civilized breakfast; a little pate and baguette to start the day.  Dave had presented Morley with a decorated pear tree; one of my favourite stories.   Took about three hours to mobilize as the cold symptoms had materialized overnight. No choice but to snooze. Eventually left for the downtown core; four hours before dinner. 
 
If you remember my last trip downtown, I was laid low afterwards with some kind of plague. Wanted to do a little reconnaissance.  With one-way systems, no on-street parking and lane closures, a little tour of the neighbourhood is advised if you want to get to dinner on time.  We were headed to Seven Windows at Aberdeen & Dundurn.  I can confirm that there is no sign on the front door; no neon "OPEN" to guide you in off the street nor is there any parking signage  Found a small lot but wanted a back up plan in case it was full come dinner hour.  Seven Windows is a restaurant and lounge located in a converted bank; there is a vault available for private dinners.

Whirlwind tour of the library; took the stairs-only exercise this week.  No fourth or fifth floor anymore.  Well, no books on those floors anymore.  On tap this week are Douglas Coupland's Highly Inappropriate Tales for Young Children, Emma Donoghue's Room and Sarah Selecky's This Cake Is For the Party-short stories.  From last month, I'm recommending Naked by David Sedaris-short stories; funny stuff.  Also, two plays; Marion Bridge by Daniel MacIvor-should take you a couple of bathroom breaks to read (now on dvd if you can't be bothered reading) and Belle Moral by Anne Marie McDonald (at Shaw a few years back).  How to describe this one?  Think it's best if you just read it.       


Usual cast of characters on the drive down.  Most striking was the woman in zebra striped pants and fur coat.  Will I go bold with the wardrobe as I enter the late middle age?  Read a piece the other day which discussed the idea that, never mind age 65, you become invisible at 25.  So most people will think you're just batty and ignore you when you pop to the store in your funky boots and leopard prints. Or, they just won't see you at all.

Had time for a quick visit to the Art Gallery~AGH-Napoleon.  From the first room, painted a regal red, Napoleon comes off as something of a rock star.  Long, flowing tresses and baby face features.  His signet ring, snuff box, watch and hat are on display.  Napoleon controlled every aspect of his reign and I started to think of our beloved Mr. Harper.  (I bet Napoleon's hair didn't move either.)  There's lots on display-paintings, dinner ware, beds, and a very fine gold toothbrush.  Will return when I have a little more leisure.  Runs 'til May.

Finally reached an age when no one calls to ask what you're wearing. Sandwiched myself into something that wasn't a Little Black Dress. Ah, the miracle of Lycra.  Telemarketer at 17:00  At this time of day?



Despite the earlier reconnaissance, I missed the restaurant and drove 'round the block to double back.  As I said, no signage.  Good vodka martini. Started with the chicken liver pate which was precisely the right temperature; served with crispbreads and onion relish.  Followed this with soup-Indian with apple.  Very tasty.  At last, a restaurant that doesn't serve shrimp cocktail with red seafood sauce! Excellent presentation with everything.

Venison for mains-tender slices served on top of sweet potato, carrot, beet, sprout and chutney.  Everyone enjoyed their mains which varied from halibut to chicken to lamb to filet.   Nearly poached my neighbour's potato-apparently, they don't "do" potato. Theirs came cooked in chicken fat which sounded rather tasty to me.  Seemed a shame to waste them.

Pastry choices were Pavlova, Ice Wine creme brulee, flourless chocolate torte (which met with rave reviews) amongst others.

Now the only fly in the ointment is the service.  Overall, service was fine, but it lacked the full attentiveness you would expect with this kind of restaurant.  Is the water glass empty?  Is the wine glass empty?  A dessert menu that includes digestifs would be nice so you can take your time ruminating over the course and not left guessing at what's behind the bar.  And worse, in one case, having to accompany the server to the bar to have a look at the whiskey choices.  Overall, it deserves a second go 'round to see if this is the norm or were they having an off night?



I had the privilege of chauffeuring the younger crowd back into town.  And where did they pick from all the choices?  Hess Village.  Now apart from lunch a couple of years back, the Village isn't somewhere you'd venture past the age of twenty-five.  It's full of micro skirt /platform shoe clad girls who look identical to one another and men in baggy pants, the occasional woolly hat and loose fitting shirt or hoodie.  They spill out onto the road at 2:15, blood coursing with liquor.  A fight or two ensues, police are called and it starts all over again next weekend.  Time was the village was a good spot for the thirty-five plus crowd.  It was home to the annual Jazz Fest.  Great music, good pubs, good food.  Slowly, the nineteen year olds took over.  Pubs became clubs and it went to pot(no doubt literally in some cases). 

For people watching however, you can't go wrong.  There is a Hortons on the corner and it's a good spot for watching the aftermath if you don't want to venture onto the cobblestones. The fascinating world of the under 25's.  Took our place at the side of the stage of The Lazy Flamingo.  We stood out like the proverbial thumb-dressed in our suits, dress and overcoats. The Great Divide were in mid set.  Divide was a fairly accurate name as two of them looked as if they'd just walked out of an early incarnation of Joy Division and the other two out of a commune, circa 1970.  They split the set between originals and Hendrix, Lynrd Skynrd and so on.  The band did a great job and if anyone knows of a good hearing specialist, drop me a line.

One of our party ventured to the WC but no one else went in after he reported back on the conditions.  As 2 AM approached, panic set in with the natives;  like closing time at Club 54.  There was a woman of about fifty chatting up the guys.  One was mortified that someone of her "advanced" years should choose someone like him.  They have yet to stare to death in the face and think they're going to live forever.  She eventually found herself a "dance partner" who was about twenty years her junior and, once again, we had to get the oxygen out for the young lads.



Sunday. Having gotten home at 3AM, was in no mood to tackle Stage One of "The Cake" and was a little delicate for most of the day.  Listened to Tapestry and a interview with the winner of Most Eloquent Person of the Year.  Oh to be so calm and collected.  Must find her name. Somehow found enough drive to prepare dinner for The Pater.  In my stupor, I neglected to add a critical ingredient and it took about 24hrs to figure out what it was.

Out to another game of minor league hockey with the five year olds.  Had been a few weeks since the last game and there was marked improvement in the skating.  Was that strategy at play? Thought there might have been a gas leak at one point; turns out to have been my seat mate's Bits & Bites snack pack. 

Monday. Challenging day.  In my defence, the whole nation is down with some kind of flu or cold.  Don't think my lack of health had anything to do with Saturday night.  Oh, how the hours dragged.  Cake making, Phase 1,  and then bed.


 

Tuesday. A blur. Cake making, Phase 2. I dosed myself with the juice of three lemons, honey and many cups of herbal tea. 

And finally, Wednesday mid morning tea break. Very pleased with the results. A moist Xmas cake; no doorstops here. Put the recipe in your arsenal. See below.


What’s in the VCR this week?  Xmas chestnuts, of course. Watching them on the portable, I might add.  Oh, the humanity!  Bill Paterson in Comfort and Joy (1984).  A Glaswegian disc jockey finds himself as the go between  of two rival gangs of ice cream merchants.   A Child’s Christmas in Wales with Denholm Eliot (1987 adaptation from Dylan Thomas), A Muppet Christmas with Michael Caine and A Christmas Story-don’t think this one needs any explaining.
Don’t forget to try Soulpepper’s A Christmas Carol.  It’s running until December 29th.
Onwards and upwards with the holidays; the idea is to have as little to do on “the day” as possible while at the same time maintaining sanity before hand.
(Editor’s Note:  That's what President’s Choice is for. Just give me a great big basket of Black Label goodies.)
And so Dear Reader, a very happy and healthy holiday to you.  Enjoy yourself. 

 
Edible Xmas Cake (good brunch partner)

Apricots, prunes, currants, cherries, figs; chopped to make 2 CUPS
1 CUP sherry, port or other
 
2/3 C unsalted butter
1 C Demerera sugar
2 eggs + 1 yolk
1 TSP vanilla

1C flour
1 TSP baking powder
1 TSP salt
½ TSP cinnamon
½ TSP nutmeg
1/8 tsp ground cloves
1 TSP lemon zest

 
Day One 

Heat sherry; add chopped fruit and simmer 10 mins.  Let stand for 24hrs. 

 
Day Two 

In mixer combine: butter, sugar; add eggs one at a time; add vanilla;  combine dry ingredients and add to egg mixture; add zest & bake 375C for 45 minutes in well buttered and floured loaf pan.

 



Tuesday, 11 December 2012

Does Star Wars count as a Christmas activity?

Ah, the intoxicating aromas of the Bulk Barn(BB).  Well, intoxicating is perhaps too strong a word for the spice section of a bulk food store.  Does wonders for the car; more natural than Febreeze.

I had pored (no pun intended) over the latest Food & Drink and decided on the Ginger cake.  Who amongst us doesn't covet the Food & Drink Holiday edition?  You've got to time it right, though.  Visit the LCBO too early or too late in the season and the shelves are bare.  Lunch hour run to the BB to stock up for the Christmas cake(I have an edible version), the pistachio and cranberry bars and truffles amongst other things.  The Widget Makers are partial to sweets and one feels the obligation to take their mind off the inevitable noon hour Subway sandwich. 

The BB is a black hole and a labour intensive one at that.  I emerged with the notion that I still had a half hour to indulge in the much sought after burger. "A burger?", you ask.  Not to be, as the hour had gone.  I went in for $2.00 worth of product and wound up with a trunk load.  Finished up consuming a partially cooked baked potato slathered in bacon marmalade and Parmesan.  Questionable choice.

For the first time in nigh on six weeks, I felt sufficiently revived to contemplate the painting, baking and tree trimming.  The Pater was scheduled for Sunday dinner and I couldn't look at the replastered wall any longer.  Perhaps if the GP had actually allowed me take an appointment, this whole farce with the eyes would not have taken so long.  Next time, I'm storm-troopering in there.  Self control be damned.

Delivered the neighbours' cards in the evening.  They looked at me puzzled and questioned why I was delivering Xmas cards on December 7th.  It is customary to graciously accept cards and not question the sender's motive/time of season.  Not here.  You have to tread carefully with "first generation".  I believe they send theirs on Xmas Eve. I like to get my money's worth.   Xmas cards are a dying art.  I like seeing a red, green or silver envelope in the mail box. Refreshing to open something that isn't a bill.  To the grocery store again and returned with a tray of sushi which was very nicely done. I'm on a Mike Leigh bent at the moment.  Picked up Mike Leigh on Mike Leigh a couple of weeks back.  Leigh dissects all his movies with the interviewer and it's been good revisiting them after the read.  Finished the day with Leigh's Vera Drake. An outstanding period drama with Imelda Staunton.




I detest painting but having gotten started again after a six year hiatus, have the drive to continue with the remaining rooms.  I can sleep at night now; not that fitful tossing and turning, waking with a cold sweat as the mind turns over the TO DO list.  I like to work with a small sponge roller-control is what you're after here.  Use a large one and next thing you're painting ceilings and baseboards and where does it end? The bottom of a large bottle of red wine.  Try and see if you can find a podcast for This Is My Music on CBC.  Ivars Taurin's turn and he presented a very fine selection of music.  Just the thing to ease into the day.

Ventured into the crawl space to get the tree. Germaphobes don't handle dark, dusty spaces well.  In fact I'm getting heart palpitations as I write this.  Putting less and less on the tree each year.  Thinking more in terms of keeping clean lines than sheer lack of ambition.  Remember, it's all got to come down again.

Finished the night with Leigh's Naked.  Raw would be a good word to describe this movie. I've seen it many times. If you're looking for laughs, this is not your movie, but I think you need to enter the world of Mr. Leigh once in a while.

Found just enough counter space next morning to make a cup of tea.  Vinyl Cafe was in holiday mode with a repeat of the Hawksley Workman show; saw it live last year.  Second time seeing Workman live.  If you have the opportunity to see  The Vinyl Cafe  or any of his guests in concert, do so.

A clipper was forecast and thought it prudent to make a start.  For the uninitiated, a ginger cake batter performs a little differently than your typical Duncan Crocker.  It doesn't flow out of the bowl into the cake pans; you have to drag it out, kicking and screaming.  A ginger batter will not self-distribute in the pan.  You have to do it for it.  Finally smacking the tins on the counter five or six times to cancel air pockets.  How do you now if this has been successful?  You don't.  It's a matter of faith.  This is a well seasoned cake-ginger, nutmeg, cinnamon, allspice, black pepper, cloves and is great for a miserable rainy day, like Sunday.


 

The frosting was a dismal failure and I'm sure, with time, I'll come to understand what went wrong.  It's butter and icing sugar-how difficult could it be? The icing has separated from the buttery mass and remains to this day, a sticky pool in the bottom of the bowl.




Soup was successful and I recommend this if for no other reason than the garnish.  Lemon juice, garlic, paprika, olive oil.  Dress the soup with a generous amount of cheese, garnish and parsley.  See below for recipes.







The Pater is partial to pastry(alliteration, anyone?). Why do we wait ‘til Xmas Eve before cracking open the nuts and pastry trays?  If you narrow the season down to 1.5 days, you’re depriving yourself.  Forced a small Ceaser at cocktail hour; celery nice and crisp.  (Note to hosts: please peel your celery.  Who wants to see guests trying to discreetly retrieve a string of celery from their back molars?) What else but grilled cheese with the soup ? Try to elevate the lowly grilled cheese to new heights.  Get creative.  And don't wait 'til you're hungry to start any cooking.
Coffee finished and the Pater took his leave. It was time to wrap up the Xmas correspondence.  Had taken an espresso after dinner and the energy level was running high. 
Flashback to Fall 2011.
Finally watched the Star Wars saga from start to finish. Yes, I found the rock quite comfortable, thank-you very much.

Went to see Star Wars in '77 and stopped there; never going back to complete the saga. Since that day, caught bits and pieces of it at the holidays, but it is simply not possible to sit through the commercials.

It would be a gross understatement to say that the Widget Maker is a fan. Deeming their Star Wars dvd collection surplus to requirements with the acquisition of Blu-Ray, I came into possession of the series.  I diligently sat through every movie, having momentary deja vu from the glimpses I'd seen every Christmas. I steadied myself and completed my education.

And then comes along Camille Paglia, who feels that George Lucas is the greatest living artist of the modern era. Revenge of the Sith as high art? Paglia recently released her book Glittering Images and during the writing process, was undecided as to its conclusion. Was there any modern art that was worthy of her final chapter? Apparently so.  Paglia was blown away by Sith.

I'm partial to Rembrandt. To consider Lucas' output high art might be a bit of a stretch. 
And so, high on the lingering paint fumes and helped along by the espresso, I popped Sith back into the machine for another look.  I focused primarily on the final two chapters. The movie has a very Gothic feel and the music added to this.   The landscapes throughout the series were reminiscent of Bosch. 
Is computer-generated work art?  David Hockney would say, yes.  Although I don't know what he thinks of Lucas.  Should Lucas be crowned king?  I would argue, no.    There isn't consistency throughout the movie (or series).  Flashes of genius are not enough to claim the crown.  Was I blown away, like Paglia?  No.  Perhaps Star Wars was too new for her? I think most people were surprised someone of Paglia's ilk deigned to watch.  (I do like when Vader gets fitted with his helmet and we hear that first breath.)  Perhaps I'll take another look with the next round of caffeine.

The movie aside, I don't think we need to place people at the bottom or the top. We are entering that dangerous time of year-the ubiquitous Top 10 List.

Bleak mornings these past few days and the only thing getting me out of bed was the lure of a little piece of ginger cake after breakfast.  Presented a plateful to the Widget Makers and they promptly inhaled it.  What's etiquette on the last piece on the plate?  If you are mere moments away from dining out at lunch, do you take the piece or leave it for someone else who isn't eating lunch?  In this case the piece disappeared.  But, this takes me into a whole other post.

Until next time.


Ginger Cake-Holiday 2012

3 cups flour
1 TBSP baking powder
½ TSP baking soda
2 TBSP ginger
2 TSP cinnamon
1 TSP allspice, nutmeg, black pepper
½ tsp ground cloves & salt
1 C butter
½ cups brown sugar
3 eggs
½ cup fancy molasses
1 C milk

Blend first nine ingredients.
Beat butter, adding sugar until well combined; add egg; add molasses.
Add ¼ flour mix, followed by ¼ milk until all combined.

Coax the batter into pans. Smooth surfaces.   Bang pans on counter to remove air pockets.
Bake 40 mins at 325C.

 
Cauliflower & Potato Soup-Holiday 2012

Recipe not terribly essential here. Go with your instincts. This is soup, after all.

1 diced onion
1 stalk celery
1 head cauliflower
3 potatoes (any)
1 TBSP butter and oil of choice
1 clove garlic
1 litre chicken stock

Garnish

2 TBSP olive oil
1 TBSP lemon juice
1 clove garlic
1 ½ TSP paprika

grated cheese (any)
chopped parsley

Dice vegetables; sautee a few minutes; add stock; boil and then simmer ‘til tender.
Stir garnish ingredients.
Add  cheese to soup bowl, drizzle with oil mixture; top with parsley.

Hearty soup and a very tasty drizzle.