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March 6, 2010

Music and food

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The KW Symphony’s latest Intersections concert, Bon appétit, was on the theme of music and food. It was one of the most enjoyable concerts I’ve ever been to.

Held at the small Conrad Centre for the Performing Arts instead of Centre in the Square, acoustics were sacrified but intimacy was gained. It proved a good trade-off.

Principle conductor Edwin Outwater introduced the evening by outlining a fact he’d only recently learned, which is that symphonies first came together as a way of accompanying large feasts in the 15th century. Then he read some of the items served at these feasts (didn’t sound too bad), along with the instruments combined to accompany each course.

Then the Symphony played their first number, Raymond Scott’s “Dinner Music for a Pack of Hungry Cannibals.” (Not the KW Symphony, but here’s a YouTube link.) A lot of Raymond Scott’s music is used in cartoons; this was one lively and fun work.

Up next, Natalie Benninger of Nick and Nate’s Uptown 21 restaurant was introduced, as Edwin explained there would actually be food as part of this concert. (We were also allowed to bring wine to our seats.) She introduced the next piece, the lyrical “Pastorale” from the film Babette’s Feast, the soundtrack to the big meal in the film. It was lovely, but I have to admit to being distracted by the appetizer being distributed while it was being played. And to the fact that Jean and I didn’t get any.  It was apparently a salad of endive and blue cheese from the film, and quite delicious. (I suppose I should add that it wasn’t only Jean and I who didn’t get any. For whatever reason, there seemed to be enough for only about half the audience.)

At some point—maybe here—we also did a video link up to Nick, toiling away back at the restaurant. In his first appearance, he talked about the type of restaurant it was, and the focus on local foods and changing menus. And then the next piece played was Shostakovich’s “Tea for Two”, a variation on that tune that he wrote on a dare. It was a lot of fun. (Look, you can hear that one on YouTube also.)

Nick appeared again, commenting that he was more of a Rolling Stones guy than a classical music fan, but he did appreciate this particular concert. Then he asked Edwin about food, to which Edwin expressed appreciation for Italian and Japanese cuisine, and his sense that chicken was a highly overrated food item.

The final piece of the first half was by a living Canadian composer, John Estacio. It was one movement from the Farmer’s Symphony, called “The Harvest.” It was quite grand, and was served with an appetizer of cornmeal in a honey sauce. (For everyone, this time.)

Before we broke for intermission, John from Art Bar spoke about the wine he’d been drinking during the performance, which was a red blend from Southbrook Winery, and how different characteristics of the wine came to the forefront with the different styles of music. Edwin then asked concertmaster Stephen Sitarski what music would best accompany Pinot Noir. He thought a relaxing smooth jazz, whereas a Bordeaux would require something more intellectual.

At intermission, I bought a glass of the Southbrook red. (I’m highly suggestible.) It was quite nice.

Part 2 led off with Ralph Vaughn Williams’ “March Past of the Kitchen Utensils”, which somewhat sounded as titled. The next number, which featured mezzo soprano Megan Latham, was an orchestral version of the Cole Porter tune “The Tale of the Oyster,” arranged by Edwin Outwater himself. This was a hilarious little number about an oyster who longs for the high life—and finds it on a silver platter. (YouTube) And Latham has a beautiful voice and a very expressive manner.

Nick then introduced a video of a competition between himself and Latham, as to who could make the best version of Julia Child’s Gateau au Chocolat. Quite amusing (and no winner declared). We then moved into Lee Holby’s Bon Appetit, which is an episode of Julia Child’s program, in which she makes that Gateau, set to music. You can definitely picture Child as the piece proceeds. And most happily, we didn’t have to imagine how the gateau tasted, because we all got a piece. It was one of the best things I’ve ever put in my mouth.

And, they gave us the recipe in the concert program. I think I might try it. Heck, it’s only 6 oz butter. Practically diet food, for Julia Child.

Anyway. The last piece was a real change of pace, an adaptation of 60’s band Strawberry Alarm Clock’s “Incense and Peppermints.” Though orchestral, it was very much in tune with the psychedelic original, complete with phase-shifting vocal (in technical terms, Latham used this gizmo to make her voice echo and layer). One the last verse, Edwin joined in the singing as well. And then he thanked us for “coming out for something we’ve never done before, and that I’ve never even heard of before.”

Though the joke was that the near-capacity crowd would then all head to the 54-seat Nick and Nate’s for a nightcap, we just headed home at that point. But we were smiling all the way.

 

March 2, 2010

Catching up

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OK, so instead of owning the podium, we just rented the top floor.

(I have to give a CP reporter the credit for that quote.) Wasn’t that fun? The Olympic withdrawal is going to be tough. It’s been the framing device around all events for the past two weeks. Furthermore, that’s been true of almost everyone else. What else does that anymore? Not the Oscars, not the series finale of Lost, not the Superbowl, not even the Stanley Cup.

Big eating weekend

I described last weekend (Feb. 19–21) as my “big eating weekend.” For the Friday, well ahead, we had arranged to meet up with friends at Verses. They were particularly pleased to have meat there. “We’re coming off a month of veganism,” they explained. “If you think vegetarianism is hard? Try veganism.”

Then on the following Saturday, our neighborhood association held a wine tasting dinner at Solé. Solé generally does an excellent job with these, and the featured wine was from Rosewood Estates, which we really like. So we had to sign up for that as well. We ended up sitting with the owner of the winery, who proved to be a very interesting guy, with rather strong opinions about wines of different price points, and the marketing strategies of various regions.

And it was a great meal. It started with their Sémillon, which I judged reminiscent of New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc, so was pleased when informed that’s what they were going for. It was delicious, as was the smoked trout served with it—amazing stuff, the food highlight of the meal. The main course was chicken with wild mushrooms, and it was served with a Meritage wine. (I was hoping to get their Pinot Noir again, but the 2007 is apparently all sold out.) Dessert featured honey wine, served with an apple caramel tart.

Olympic-wise, that was a pretty quiet weekend. That’s when there was all that grousing about Canada’s performance being somewhat disappointing, which I mostly found irritating. But since we don’t really know our neighbours (and besides the wine people, that’s who was there), it was very handy to have that to talk about.

Shall we dance?

Despite some moments of mild panic—me on the “hockey stick” step (seriously, that’s what it’s called) of the cha-cha, Jean on the intricate shaping of the slow fox—we’re fumbling our way reasonably well through our ballroom dance classes for people who had taken a seven-year break. This week’s class coincided with the Russia-Canada hockey quarter-final, but late arrivals reported on the already lopsided score involved there, and we stopped worrying about that too much.

But our dance instructor wanted to talk about another sport:

“Why did they win?” he asked. After some brilliant responses like, “cause they were good,” the issue of synchronicity came up. “That’s right!” he said. “They danced as though they were one.” Which is what we were all striving for. “And if you practice for 8 hours a day, for 12 years, maybe learn to skate… Who knows?”

That night I planned to finish watching the ladies’ short in figure skating, recorded the night before, but I got distracted by all those other medals by all those other Canadian ladies: gold and silver in bobsled. Silver in short track.

TEDx

The day after dance class, I attended a Waterloo-hosted a TEDx conference. TED stands for Technology, Entertainment, and Design, and the motto is “Ideas worth spreading.” In 21 minutes or less.

The event started by being delayed by technical difficulties. This is when I discovered that I was, apparently, the only person in the room whose iPod was not Touch and whose cell phone was not i.  That is, no portable Internet connectivity for me. So while everyone else tapped away around me, twittering about the delay and receiving updated ladies’ curling scores… I read a magazine. I mean, a dead-tree edition magazine.

There’s some message there somewhere, and I don’t really like it. But at least I didn’t have to worry about any batteries dying.

But once the conference got underway, it did feature some interesting speakers and ideas. Terry O’Reilly from CBC’s The Age of Persuasion on the underrated importance of friction in selling products. An exploration of living architecture (using materials that respond to human touch—a bit freaky). The director of of the documentary Prom Night in Mississippi, who also shared information about how meeting The Beatles played a role in his spiritual awakening. Caroline Disler on how much of “Western” civilization actually comes from the east. And a study of the ecology of restoration, using Sudbury as a model.

And back home, the very good women’s gold medal hockey game! And the equally tough, in their own way, women of figure skating singles. Yu-na Kim perfection, a woman who does triple axels better than many of the men, and Joannie Rochette, showing it’s about more than medals (though it is great she won one).

Timmins wedding

It’s my wedding year, I guess, as we traveled again for a wedding on the weekend, this time to Timmins. But we weren’t on call to do much the Friday night, so after spending some excrutiating time watching the women’s curling final, first with my family, then with Jean’s, we went out to bar with my brother and his wife to get away from sport a bit and listen to some music.

The young singer, Louis-Phillip Sébastien, was quite good. But he was also fighting a cold, so his set was short. Really short. So then the bar turned the TV on the men’s hockey game, which seemed to go pretty well. It was only after getting home we found out that they nearly lost it in the last few minutes.

The wedding on Saturday was lovely, and I think most people had a great time, with lots of dancing. I’m not sure what the attendance would have been had a major hockey game been scheduled that night, but people were content to merely zip into the bar on breaks and report that the men’s curling team were winning gold.

The invitation to the wedding has specified “black and white dress.” On first reading that, I assume that was some other way of saying “dress up nice,” and planned on wearing a fancy black and red dress. But, it turned out that they actually wanted people to dress in black and white. We found this out only late in the game, though, and at that point, I wasn’t too thrilled by the idea of going out to buy a new dress. I just threw in a white throw to cut the effect.

So in case you’re wondering… it is a bit odd being the only person wearing red in the room.

At least I was, until the red sock dance—a weird, franco-ontarian wedding tradition whereby any unmarried older sibling has to, well, dance in red socks. I have no idea why.

The opening of the wedding presents was on Sunday, about an hour before the Gold medal game. We overheard the first period there (knowing by the cheering that it was 1-0), watched the second with Jean’s Mom, and the third and overtime with my family. Scoring with 24 seconds left? Are you kidding me? And then Crosby again scored when it really counted.

While I really think hockey got too much emphasis overall, I must admit that was quite the capper.

 

February 13, 2010

Join the majority

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Like two-thirds of Canadians (!), apparently, I tuned into the Opening Ceremonies of the Olympics last night. And I even watched it live, and nearly to the bitter end.

They really did a fine job, I thought. I liked the special effects re-creation of the ocean, and the fields, and the mountains (even if it perpetuates the myth that we’re “outdoorsy” country people, when most of us live in cities). And I liked the slam poet, reminiscent of the old “Joe Canadian” ads, but with more eloquence and no beer. (Even though it claimed an environmentalism we don’t deserve. But the rest felt right.) The fiddling medley was lively fun. And man, does this country have a great set of women singers, or what? Nikki Yanovsky, Sarah McLachlan, Joni Mitchell, Measha Brueggergosman, and most especially, KD Lang, actually outdoing her Juno performance of “Hallelujah”.

I liked that the final torch run wasn’t just Gretzky. I liked all the French. And it was appropriate that the tragic death of luger Nodar Kumaritashvili was recognized, and recognized again.

I have some sympathy with Olympic protestors. The IOC is really the most appalling organization. But the athletes… they’re mostly inspiring. They always win me in over in the end.

Finally, live TV meant not fast-forwarding the commercials, and the somewhat dubious sponsors involved. It made this 22 Minutes bit even more hilarious the second time around:

 

February 9, 2010

Of hams and Whos

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So this was a Sunday of firsts. Not not only my inaugural viewing of a Superbowl half-time show, but also my first attempt at cooking one of those big, big hams with the bone on it.

I’ve always been a mystified by ham-like meats and their various grocery store names—why is one a “sweet pickle roll” while another is a “steak” and that one there is “smoked hock”? But anyway, whatever the actual name, the big ones with the bone, that are not precooked, were on at a very good price at Sobey’s this week, so I decided to take a stab at cooking that. How hard could it be?

I had assumed it would be like other big hunks of meats, in that you flavored the outside somehow, then stuck it in the oven at a certain temperature for 2+ hours, until the middle part reached the acceptable temperature. To my surprise, though, the package for this thing said it was to be cooked on the stove top in water (for 2+ hours).

Well, thank goodness I still have that huge pasta pot I received as a wedding present and have rarely used since, because it just fit in there. The wrapper then instructed me to remove the wrapper before I cooked it in the water. Boy, what kind of an idiot does this wrapper think I am anyway, I thought, as I removed the plastic and discovered that the meat was in this other mesh-like wrapper. Was I supposed to remove that one?

“Jean! Help!”

Jean called for reinforcements. Since his Mom left the mesh on, so would I.

The instructions then said to cover the meat in cold water, then cook it over low heat for 2 to 2.5 hours, til it reached 71C. Seemed easy enough, so I did as told.

An hour later when I checked, the water was warmish but not bubbly or anything. That seemed a bit odd, but what did I know? Another half hour later, there was some simmer going, and I started working on the scalloped potatoes (which I actually know how to make).

As those when in the oven, I got the bright idea of actually sticking a meat thermometer in the meat to see how it was doing. It was nowhere near 71C. It was at, like 27, or something. And here I was, kind of hoping to eat this thing today.

I now did what I have to assume I was supposed to have done in the first place, which is bring the water to a full boil, then reduce heat to a nice simmer. That did the temperature moving up a bit quicker. But not really quickly enough.

As microwaving didn’t seem to be much of an option, I was at a bit of a loss as to how to accelerate the cooking time.

“Jean! Help!”

Jean’s suggestion, which I had sorted gleaned onto also, was to cut the big hunk of meat into smaller hunks, figuring each would cook faster that way.

And faster it did go, finally finishing about 3.5 hours after starting, and about 0.5 hours after the scalloped potatoes and braised cabbage with cranberries were done. But that wasn’t so bad. And everything was really very tasty. (Thank goodness, because I think we’re going to be eating the leftovers for the next week or two.)

So in the background of this kitchen drama, as of 6:45 or so, was The Superbowl. Muted. (Yes, I have a TV in my kitchen. Doesn’t everyone?) So I was able to look up to it every once in a while, between fretting about meat temperature, to see the first two quarters count down.

Though I needn’t really have worried, because as the second quarter wound down, I got not one but two calls informing me of the impending halftime show. It’s so nice to have people in your life who care! And who actually want to watch The Superbowl. And by then, we were actually done eating dinner (though not putting away all the leftovers).

I went downstairs where the PVR lives and put it on Superbowl channel. Only the sound was all broken up. That wasn’t going to work. So I tried other Superbowl channels – CBS, maritime, BC. Then other, non-Superbowl channels.

Basically, the sound was a fubarred anywhere. With about 2 minutes left in the second quarter, the PVR needed a reboot.

So while it reset itself, I watched the countdown on the kitchen TV. With about 10 seconds left, the PVR was back, sound restored to normality.

I then sat with the remote, planning to hit the record when The Who actually began their set. Only, it had been so long since I actually recorded anything playing live (I normally preset everything I plan to watch), I didn’t really know how to do that. Which I only realized as their set began.

“Jean! Help!”

Jean managed the highly complex [not] process of recording what was currently on (and we later remembered that it actually tapes everything from when I first tuned to that channel, so I actually have the whole thing).

And then we watched The Who—me a little more closely than Jean.

Jean [during Baba O'Reilly]: Is that all they’re doing of that one? Me (feeling weirdly proud that he now knows when Baba O’Reilly is shortened): Yeah, it’s medley.

The set list was utterly unsurprising. They only have 12 minutes. Of course they’re going to play all the CSI themes, somehow. It certainly would have been nice to hear more of their catalog, and it might have been interesting (or an interesting disaster) if they’d actually tried to “mash up” some of their songs (and come to think of it, they used do that very thing, live … quite brilliantly). But again… 12 minutes.

Jean [during Who Are You]: You must disappointed he’s wearing a shirt. Me: Yeah, and no wardrobe malfunctions this year.

The outfits: Though still in remarkably great shape for nearly 66, I don’t actually think Daltrey should still go out in full bare chest-al glory anymore. So the jacket was fine, but that scarf? I don’t really get his fondness for scarves, unless he feels having a warm neck actually helps with singing, or something. (And some bloggers are complaining about seeing Townsend’s “white tummy” far too often—which I can’t say I particular even noticed!)

Jean: [during Won't Get Fooled Again]: Wow, I’m impressed how fast they set that stage up. Me: Did you know The Who pioneered the use of lasers in rock concerts?

The staging was pretty awesome. The light show, the fireworks—it looked great on TV, it must have looked fantastic in the stadium.

As to the overall performance? Though a bit sloppy at times, I thought they were pretty good, generally. Mind, I wasn’t expecting them to sound like they did in 1971. It was fun to hear the big stadium singing along with them. Knowing that Daltrey’s voice is a thing of wonkiness these days, I was actually tense waiting for him to attempt the “Won’t Get Fooled Again” scream. But to my relief, that was great! (Though it may well be the years of doing that scream that has reduced his voice to what it is now…)

I did a bit of review reading afterward. What I found most weird were the accusations, at Rollingstone.com, that they lip-synced the entire performance. (This is not in the review, but in the dreaded comments section.) I’m with those who said, you know, if the whole thing was pre-recorded, don’t you think it would have been a little… better?

And my favourite review is the fairly poignant one in the New York Times, some of which I’ll quote below:

Instead, for what was probably its biggest one-time viewing audience, the Who chose repertory from Townshend’s increasingly ambitious late-1960s albums and afterward, when he was already taking a grown-up’s point of view: “Pinball Wizard” and the gentle “See me, feel me” snippet from his 1969 rock opera “Tommy”; “Baba O’Riley” and “Won’t Get Fooled Again” from the 1971 “Who’s Next”; and the title song from the 1978 “Who Are You.” If there was a 21st-century attention-span paradox in having the man who wrote rock operas and concept albums compress his life’s work into 12 minutes — well, Townshend said beforehand that the medley was Daltrey’s idea.

They were songs about prowess, determination, desperation and rage at how revolutions fail: an arc of verbal frustration defied, and explosively overcome, by musical assertiveness, with the power chords that the Who made ring worldwide. They were songs that expected, and got, large audiences at the time. It was music born to be heard in arenas and stadiums, and the halftime show might have been these songs’ last airing on their accustomed monumental scale.

…

The Who did its best to punk up its songs again, even amid the Super Bowl’s fiesta of corporate branding, and “Won’t Get Fooled Again” — the song that got the fullest airing — still had a good part of its old ferocity. But it was a line in “Baba O’Riley” that touched on what kind of milestone this brief, happily unkempt, late-career performance was for the Who. “Let’s get together before we get much older,” Daltrey sang, looking directly across the stage at Townshend.

PS – I also quite liked this blog post, which (despite not containing nearly enough information about ham) nicely made the point that while The Who’s Superbowl performance was mostly fine, they’re just doomed now by having once been the best live band. Period. I especially liked this line: “The Who are probably the most underrated band that many people consider wildly overrated.”

 

February 6, 2010

The Music of Fleetwood Mac

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This was the theme of our latest Jeans’n'Classics concert: The Music of Fleetwood Mac. Our original guests had to bow out, so we attended with Camie and Frasier instead. As with the previous concert, and despite some lobbying for the new Mexican place (Margaritas), we went to Uptown21 first.

Once again, they did a great job. We all went for the day’s three-course prix fixe menu, three of us with matching wine (Camie had Shiraz). The first course of duck confit and wild mushroom was fabulous. The other option, grilled shrimp, also looked very nice. Next up was either a root-vegetable soup, which got some raves, or a salad with apple, sugared pecans, and cheddar in a balsamic vinaigrette. Quite nice. And the main course choices included lamb with vegetables (Jean), trout with vegetables, a vegetarian option, and something I can’t remember. But my trout was nice—very well-prepared.

We also enjoyed the company. We discussed Austen (the author, not me misspelling the city), university funding, travel plans, the joys of home renovation, the Olympics, and the last time we’d listened to Fleetwood Mac’s Rumors. Though not necessarily in that order. They managed to get us out just before 7:00, and we commented that it would be nice to go again sometime and not have to rush through dinner. And maybe also try the Mexican place.

There was the usual insane number of people looking for parking when we arrived, but this time we did manage to get a spot at the Kitchener Library, which is pretty nearby. And as a bonus, their parking meter machine was broken! It was a near full house again.

The concert featured Rique Franks, Katherine Rose, and Neil Donnel on vocals. They explained that it was a new show, and it was a little rougher than usual, with some lyrics and vocal lines and song dates mixed up. But overall it was very enjoyable. Kind of a reminder of the many hits they’d had in the 80s there, all of which I knew at least by chorus, and a good selection from Rumors, which I pretty much know inside and out. I especially like that some non-single but excellent songs from that classic album, such as “The Chain” and “Oh Daddy” were included.  But the music in general was well-suited to the orchestral approach. Jean developed an insta-crush on Katherine Rose based on her husky speaking voice. And Camie noted that it was nice to have the speaking and singing duties distributed among three people.

Next up: Elvis!

 

January 14, 2010

Overdosing on self-improvement

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For someone who doesn’t believe in New Year’s resolutions, I seem to have a lot of self-improvement efforts going on.

I actually did make a New Year’s resolution once, which I did keep that entire year and beyond: To practice the piano at least once a week. The “piano” in question at that time was my Yamaha digital keyboard, a lovely Christmas present, and a very nice-sounding instrument. But as I practiced, and improved (though never to anything terribly impressive), its limitations became clearer: Not being a full keyboard, meaning I couldn’t play all the notes of certain songs. Not having touch sensitivity, meaning that every note of the entire song had to be at the same volume (unless I borrowed one hand to actually turn down the volume button). Not having a sustain pedal, meaning that I could either set to have every note to sustain in equal amounts, or none of them to.

Well, now all of that is solved with my beautiful new Roland digital grand piano.

But with the cost of that thing (though we did get a nice discount on it), I’d better darn well get back to that weekly (minimum) piano playing.

But, I’m going to have to fit that in with my current efforts to try to get my house in better order. What suddenly motivated me to start sorting through the piles of paper, magazines, newspapers, catalogs, etc. in various parts of my house I have no idea, but there it is. Not that you’d notice anything dramatic yet. But the pile of reading material beside my bed looks semi-reasonable now, and you can actually see much of the top of the coffee table downstairs. And I seem to feel compelled to keep making the piles smaller, or at least more organized.

That somehow recently extended to the DVDs and CDs scattered across the TV cabinet and computer, now all put away—somewhere. Admittedly some are just in Lee Valley Tool boxes on the floor, but that still looks a little tidier. And it led to a discussion of how I really need more open cabinets, because I need to see my CDs and DVDs. Which gradually extended to a discussion redoing the entire downstairs, with me actually participating meaningfully in the discussion. This is unusual for me. I’m not a normal girl, and I don’t generally like thinking about renovating and recorating. But now, in the interest of eventually having more cabinets, plus a more integrated fitness room, plus a big-ass TV, I’m invested. At least theoretically. We now have a plan for designing the downstairs.

OK, so I’m practicing the piano, cleaning up my piles of paper, and planning renovations.

But that all has to fit in with my new fitness plan. Mind you, I was working out before, but what’s new now is exercising with the hubby. About a month ago I became convinced that hubby really  needed to exercise more frequently. But after attempts to convince him of this with nothing but intense looks and thoughts proved completely ineffective, I tried a radical approach. I used my words.

To my surprise, he actually agreed. Of course, there were some conditions. No girly activities like yoga, pilates, and dance aerobics. Only manly things like weightlifting, boxing, walking, canoeing, and ballroom dancing. (No sneering. Ballroom dancing is very macho. The man always leads the lady. And she has to wear high heels.)

I was expecting this to be a case of me dragging along reluctant hubby, but he’s turned out to be quite the slave driver himself. Let’s walk longer! No, I don’t need a day off! Heavier weights! Jeez.

Plus, the ballroom dance lessons themselves are somewhat self-improvement-y in another way, in relearning all those dance steps we’ve forgotten. (At least, I sure hope we’ll relearn them.)

OK, so piano practice, dance practice, daily fitness, cleaning up, planning renovations… Might as well eat better too, right? How else will I keep up with all this? So currently, our fruit basket runneth over. Literally.

The most annoying thing is all this happening in January, which culture tells us is supposed to be the month for self-improvement. Which I just hate buying into, because that would make me just like everybody else.

So, these aren’t new year’s resolutions. They are just a bunch of projects and activities that happened to all start around January. I’m in no way trying to become a better, healthier person or anything. Really.

 

January 3, 2010

Dining in the new year

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Since we were once again at Verses on New Year’s Eve, this year’s gourmet dinner we cook ourselves occurred on January 2. (January 1, believe it or not, Jean went canoeing.)

Appetizers

We began with a glass of Ice Cuvée from Peller Estates. This is a Champagne-style sparkling wine (mix of Pinot Noir and Chardonnay) that is accented with a bit of Vidal ice wine. The Champagne taste definitely predominates; this is not a sweet drink. But the ice wine does add a nice sweet edge to it. It’s a good starter.

Mushroom bruschetta and Pinot Noir

Our first course highlighted wild mushroms. First up was buffalo mozarella with bruschetta of wild mushrooms. This was a recipe by Lucy Waverman, based on an item from Vancouver’s Cibo Trattoria. The bread used was sourdough, a fair amount of fresh garlic was involved, olive oil and balsamic vinegar participated, and the whole thing was topped with pecorino cheese. The result was a lot of flavor, but it all seemed to play nicely together. Though if we tried it again, we might try grating rather than shaving the pecorino.

The wine was going to be a Rodney Strong Pinot Noir, but at the last minute I substituted this John Tyler Pinot Noir that we’d also purchased in California. This is a very small winery, so their wines are unlikely to ever show up in the LCBO. It’s a really nice Pinot. Not quite the wow factors of the Rodney Strong Estate Pinot, but still very smooth, and very good with food.

We also had—unpictured because soup just looks like soup—a wild rice and mushroom soup, recipe courtesy of Alive magazine. This was mostly wild mushrooms with a bit of carrot, onion, celery (I used celery root), with wild rice, cooked in vegetable broth with a bit of red wine. It turned out very nice as well, once seasoned with a bit of salt and pepper.

And both recipes were actually pretty quick and easy to make. Because of the wild rice, though, the soup requires an hour’s cooking time.

Mains

Pan-seared trout with olives and potatoes

Next up was Pan-Seared Arctic Char with Olives and Potatoes, courtesy of Fine Cooking magazine. Only we couldn’t find arctic char, so we substituted a nice-looking rainbow trout from TJ’s Seafood. This was really a plain simple recipe, where the fish is just salted and peppered and fried in a bit of olive oil, while the potatoes and sliced and boiled for a short time, then also fried, along with Kalamata olives and fresh rosemary. Then it’s all seasoned with balsamic vinegar and lemon juice. Proves you don’t need complicated techniques to make great food, because it was delicious.

With this, we served a white Chateauneuf-du-pape that we had brought back from Provence. While I don’t remember being that blown away by this type of wine on that trip, did it ever taste wonderful last night. Very complex, very delicious. Possibly the best of the night.

Duck ravioli with sweet and sour squash

The one item I’d decided in advance I wanted to attempt this year was duck ravioli. I found the recipe we used just via Google; it was called Duck confit and mashed potato ravioli with white truffle sauce. It wasn’t particularly difficult, but it was time-consuming. You had to make the mashed potatoes, skin the duck confit and chop up the duck meat, crisp up the skin, then warm up the meat and combine it with the potatoes, and stuff everything into won ton wrappers. (And I’m not sure what this was about, but we have a ton of stuffing left!)

The way we manage this meal overall, by the way, is to do as much in advance as possible in the afternoon, then just do the final cooking of each course as we go through the evening. The final touches for duck ravioli are just to boil the raviolis, and make the truffle sauce. Which is just unsalted butter browned and then combined with truffle oil and truffle paste. And you top the raviolis with the previously crisped skin.

As a side dish (we need our veg), we made Jamie Oliver’s sweet and sour squash recipe. This would be from his Cook with Jamie cookbook. It involves chopping the squash into “finger”-sized pieces (not sure food should be compared to body parts), and basically steaming, then frying it with red onion, garlic, thyme, raisins, pine nuts (we had to use almonds), and lots of parsley. The sweet and sour is created with balsamic and white wine vinegar, and sugar.

That was a slightly weird food combo, so we settled on a blended red wine: the 2005 Stratus Red. It’s a pleasant yet complex wine, and probably suited the food as well as anything could.

Dessert

Almond-scented cannoli and truffles

We were pretty proud of ourselves for managing our portions throughout such that there was still room for a modest serving of dessert. (Also, we now have a lot of leftovers—today will be the best leftover day ever!) For this we made Almond-scented chocolate cannoli, using an old recipe from Shape magazine. So it’s a light-ish dessert, with light ricotta and light Cool Whip combined with a bit of almond extract and a few mini chocolates chips and stuffed into a cannoli shell (that we bought; didn’t make).

And on the side, we made Chili Chocolate Truffles, using a recipe from LCBO magazine (Winter 2006). So it’s whipped cream, butter, and bittersweet chocolate flavored with ancho chili power and honey, chilled and rolled in either grated white chocolate or cocoa powder.

These were served with a 2000 Vintage port from Quinta de la Rosa, a lovely smooth drink. The cannolis had a nice cheesy, chocolate, almond taste (as one might expect, I suppose) and the chili in the truffles was very subtle, just giving a slight bite to the sweetness.

 

December 30, 2009

Three books, five days

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… And that’s pretty good for me. The key, I’ve found, is trains. And given what’s currently happening at airports, more of us may be taking trains. At least take comfort in knowing it’s good for literacy.

Oryx and Crake by Margaret Atwood

… even though, I have to confess, two of the three books were consumed in Audible form, on my iPod. That way you can also watch the scenery. And the snow-covered trees were really pretty.

OK, the most important thing about finishing Oryx and Crake is that I’m no longer in the embarassing position of never having read a Margaret Atwood novel. Yes, I know. You’d be amazed at the great authors I’ve yet to read. Though, to be fair, I have tried reading Margaret Atwood before. I just had to give up about a third in, due to incredible lack of enjoyment. (Not even sure what book that was, anymore.)

But Oryx and Crake, I found really interesting. It’s an Apocalyptic future kind of tale, taking place in a globally warmed future where a single remaining homo sapien coexists with “Crakians”, genetically engineered humans who lack humans more destructive impulses. A lot of the realities of the book—the bizarely genetically engineered animal hybrids, the smart technologists locked away in compounds away from the “plebe-lands”, the reliance on medicine to treat everything—seemed somewhat plausible, only a little beyond what is actually going on.

So it was an unpleasant yet somewhat familiar world, and it was fairly engrossing uncovering the mystery of what led to this point.

Julie and Julia: My Year of Cooking Dangerously by Julie Powell

I had seen and enjoyed the movie, so I got curious about the book, which I did actually read, and without the benefit of train motion. Julie Powell had a blog that covered her efforts to make all 524 recipes in Julia Child’s Mastering the Art of French Cooking, in one year. Though a personal strain (these are not easy recipes), the blog became very popular—ultimately becoming a book, then a movie (obviously).

Watching the movie, I somewhat related to Julie. She and I both like to write about food, for example. She and and I both cook from written recipes (as opposed to just whipping up your own thing, which is a whole other talent). She and I are both in a long-term, childfree marriages to really sweet guys.

And reading the book, I found even more similarities. Like—I kid you not—her total obsession with Buffy the Vampire Slayer. One of the most dire crises of the book is when CBS wants to interview her on the night of the very last Buffy ever!

So part of my brain thinks, geez, why didn’t I think of blogging about making all of Julia Child’s recipes in a year so that I could get a book deal, and a movie deal, and get to write another book?

But then I’m reminded that there are some key differences between Julie and me.

She’s much more open than I about writing about personal, embarrassing stuff, for example. And that is a big part of the charm and appeal of the endeavour, which made it a success.

There’s also the fact that she was really disastified with her secretarial job, and her difficulties in getting pregnant, both necessary fuel for taking on and maintain this crazy project of hers. (Along with occasionally copious amounts of alcohol, cigarettes, and expletives.) Me, I don’t have quite enough angst to take on making boeuf bourgignon until 2:00 in the morning, sustained only by nicotine and rum.

And most particularly… Frankly, I would never do classic French cooking. Reading the book, even more than seeing the movie, made me realize I have no interest in this type of arduous cooking: Digging out bone marrow, making gelatin from a calve’s hoof (seriously! apparently smells like a tannery), chopping up a live lobster (all the parts squirm, it appears), boning an entire duck.

It was fun to read about, though.

Dead  Until Dark by Charlaine Harris

This was the return trip audiobook. I had downloaded Fahrenheit 451 as well, but that was starting to seem a little too much apocalypse for one trip, so I dug around and stumbled upon this one, the first Sookie Stackhouse mystery. OK, vampire mystery. But the vampires are still incidental, even though I realize this is the second time they’ve been mentioned in this post.

And also, that all three books are from a single individual’s point of view.

Anyway. In this case, the point of view is Sookie Stackhouse’s, a telepathic bar waitress in a world where vampires exist and have just attained legal status. Sookie meets Bill, a vampire who sets her small Southern town a-twitter by deigning to live in it. She’s intrigued because she cannot read his mind; this comes as a major relief. But their path to true romance hits stumbling blocks in the form of the murder of women who have a sweet spot for vampires.

Jean declared this too much of a chick book for him, though not too much for him to listen from start to finish.

I found it diverting enough, but I’m not sure I’m compelled to read any more of these. Sounds a bit weird to say given that the main characters are a vampire and mind reader, but there were more supernatural elements introduced later in the novel than I wanted. Made it a bit harder to believe in the world. Sookie was a fun character, it had some nice sexy bits, and I was curious about the murderer’s identify. But it’s not something I’d say you’d have to go out of your way to read.

(In case anyone was wondering, I haven’t yet seen True Blood, which is apparently based on, but very different from, these novels.)

 

December 20, 2009

Indiana wedding

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Remember pen pals? I used to have a bunch of them. Back in the days before email, discussion forums, facebook… It was one of the only ways to connect with strangers who lived far away.

And of course, mostly, I didn’t keep in touch with most of them. Some endured for only a couple letter exchanges; others lasted for years. But only a couple have lasted til now (even if more in email form these days): a grade-school friend from Timmins who is now in Edmonton, and Beth.

Beth is from Indiana. We were first matched via Teen Magazine when we were 13. (I just looked that up. Yep, still have all the old letters filed away…) Though contact has been far more sporadic in recent years than in our turbulent teens—despite the ease of email, et al—we have kept in touch all this time. Last weekend, we met for the first time. Because Beth was getting married. (Also for the first time. People keep asking that.)

Getting there

It proved fairly impossible to get there by train, and although plane wasn’t that expensive when leaving from Buffalo, in the end, we decided to drive.

We’d hoped to get away around noon on the Friday, but Jean’s work made that impossible, so it was more around 1:15 when we left. It was also pretty snowy and blowy. Fortunately, we left that type of weather behind us fairly quickly. We crossed the border at Sarnia, and that went well. We were a little ahead of rush hour going through Detroit. And then it just seemed like a lot of Ohio. Not the world’s most interesting state to drive through.

We were trying to arrive in time for a dinner for the out-of-town guests, to have a chance to meet a little bit before the crazyness of the wedding itself. Of course, with the late departure, we weren’t exactly early for dinner. (The predicted driving time of 7 hours proved to be about accurate.) But we did make it while people were still there.

Mind you, Beth wasn’t actually there at that point. That, combined with the name on the door—neither Beth’s nor her fiancé’s—threw us off a little. But then Beth’s Mom Judy recognized me. “You must be Cathy! I’ve been reading your letters for years!”

Thus welcomed, I also met Rick, the fiancé, who seemed like a really great, friendly guy. And not long after, Beth herself. Who was just how I expected her to be, really. And that’s a good thing.

But as noted, late arrival, so the gathering did break up not too much later. We went to check into the same Holiday Inn where most guests were staying, and were quite pleased with the large and bright room. But we were also still hungry, so we went to the Red Lobster across the road. Very friendly waitress, and the food would have been decent, had it not been doused in what seemed like an ocean’s worth of salt. Oh well.

Visiting Richmond

We had most of the day to ourselves before the wedding, so we went to the mall! And did get a few Christmas gifts there. But Jean was soon restless, so we headed into the “historic downtown” to see if that was more interesting. We did stumble upon a really great toy store there and acquired a few more gifts for the nieces, nephews, and friend’s kids. (We were puzzling over our duty-free spending limit, which we later looked up. It’s $400 for being away 48 hours. So no problem.)

Then lunch, for which we’d targeted an Italian restaurant listed under the “fine dining” section for Richmond. It was actually quite good and a really nice space.

Then we went to check out the local museum, which had some interesting items, like a mummy. Jean was particularly taken with the collection of classic cars. (I had no idea electric cars dated so far back. And rotary-dial car phones!)

Then back to the hotel for a bit of time in the hot tub (why is it always so hard to find the dial that controls the agitator for hotel hot tubs? We had to give up for this one) before getting ready for the big event.

The wedding

Wedding ceremony, dinner, and dancing were all co-located at the Country Club, another rather attractive space. Everyone in the wedding party looked lovely. The ceremony was very nice, with a personable minister presiding. My favorite was the quirky touch of having a “best dog” as part of the wedding party. (This is a dog Beth has been sitting for for years.)

There was no arranged seating for dinner, so we took the approach of seeking out a table of others who didn’t seem to know too many people, and asking about sitting with them. That worked out well. We first joined a colleague of Beth’s (from the college) and his wife, who were quite pleasant. Then we were joined by high school friend of Beth’s and her husband: Elaine and Scott. I was more on their side of the table, so ended up talking more with them. She’d managed to keep in touch with Beth since leaving Indiana after high school, but not too much with other high school friends, whom she was hoping to spot. (“I wish they were wearing name tags.”) Husband Scott was a school counselor for grade 3 children. He and Elaine have five children themselves.

Oh, and Scott kind of looked like Johnny Depp, which was interesting. Elaine was quite attractive also. The children must be beautiful.

Anyway, the fine buffet dinner was followed by some of the briefest wedding toasts I’ve ever heard in my life, then the first dance (which Elaine said Beth was really nervous about, but she did fine), then general dancing. D-J was good, playing a variety of music, and Jean and I got to practice the few jive moves we still remember. (We’ve actually signed up for dance classes in the new year, to get some of that refreshed.)

A few more quirky touches I enjoyed: Having jars of various types of candy (tootsie rolls, M&Ms, rock candy, that sort of thing) available for “the kids” to bag—then watching the many “big kids” also indulge once the smaller ones were done. And getting a demonstration of hula-hoop technique from one of Beth’s friends. Quite impressive, actually—though we didn’t quite catch on video.

Eventually I did get to talk to Beth, and her Mom, a bit more, which was good. And I got photographic proof of the meeting:

Cathy and Beth

Heading back

We had taken the Monday off, giving us two days to head back, which was nice. So we had a leisurely departure after breakfast, where we saw Rick and Beth one more time. We’d considered various routes, but finally settled on going back up the same way, through Ohio, but heading in through Windsor this time, in order to visit the Pelee Island region a bit (without actually going on that island).

The drive went fine. No weather issues, and the only somewhat hairy part was finding the border crossing in Detroit. That was complicated a bit by construction, so the GPS instructions couldn’t be followed exactly. Once we’d found ourselves, we were amused by all the signs saying “Following the detour signs; not your GPS instructions.”

We used Billy’s Best Bottles from last year as a guide, and stopped in Amherstburg first. We stayed in a little motel, which was older but fine, and had a really good dinner at a place called Caldwell’s Grant, that specializes in local cuisine. While there we had a moment of concern when Jean’s sister called him on his cell phone, as that was an unusual thing to do. Eventually it turned out that while Jean’s Mom was in hospital, it wasn’t a heart attack as they had feared earlier, but something much less serious. So they wanted to get in touch to basically tell him not to worry. (He also spoke to his Mom.)

(When we did get home, we had 10 messages from various siblings, all fairly vague on the reasons why they were calling…)

The next day we visited some wineries. The first we stopped at was D’Angelo. Though their website said they opened at 10:00, they weren’t open when we got there around 10:45. We later found out we can’t taste wine before 11:00 anyway, though. So no iced Foch for us.

Next, after almost despairing of locating it, we did get to Sanson, which was open. We tried a few wines here, then bought two bottles each of our favorites, which were the Sauvignon Blanc and the Baco Noir. They also had some organic meats on offer, and we bought some of those.

She recommended Viewpointe winery to us, so we went there next. That’s a beautiful site which must be a great place to picnic at in the summer. This time of year, we were the only ones there. We came out of here with four bottles as well: two of the Auxerrois, a white usually used in blends, that has an interesting floral flavor, and the Cabernet Merlot.

Finally, we visited Mastronardi, whose wines we’d enjoyed at Caldwell’s Grant the night before.  And here we left with seven bottles: two Gewurtz (in a more off-dry style), two Cabernet Franc, one Merlot, one Syrah (more of a French style), and a very nice sparkling wine.

But that was enough! Next business was lunch, but that proved a bit tricky, as many restaurants are closed on Monday. We finally ended up at a “family” restaurant in Leamington. Though that term tends to make me leery, they actually did a find job of the sandwiches we had. The drive home was a bit dreery with fog, but went fine. We got in around 5:00.

So it was a nice getaway, and although not an intense first meeting, it was good to finally have one after 30 years! Maybe we won’t wait quite so long for the next. (And maybe, just maybe, I’ll even get on Facebook so we can keep in a bit more regular touch that way.)

 

November 10, 2009

And the rest of the weekend was pretty great, too

Posted by cultureguru under Arts, Food, Personal, Travel
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The day after the concert, began with breakfast at the Day’s Inn, which turned out to be rather better than these continental hotel breakfasts usually are, thanks to the available waffle batter and waffle iron. They did run out of coffee, but we were able to save that one by making a pot in our room afterward.

After checking out, and getting the word of mouth that general notices on the concert were good, we headed to the hottest spot in Ontario—the Flu Clinic! Seriously, we decided to go see if Orillia flu clinics were being run any better than Waterloo Region ones. And boy, were they ever. Very short lineup, everyone in it quickly assessed as to whether they qualified (Jean did, as a healthcare worker; I didn’t even try—I do have some morals), given a time to expect their shot. In our case it was so soon, and the weather was so fine, we just stayed in line until it was done. The whole thing, including the 15-minute after-shot wait, took half an hour, 40 minutes, maybe.

Oh, and Jean had no after-effects from the shot, other than the expected sore shoulder muscle.

After that triumph, we headed to downtown Orillia to see what might be interesting there. We spent some time in a kitchen store (weirdly, perhaps, Jean likes kitchen gadgets as much as I do—maybe even more), and got ourselves a few things, and some Christmas stuff. We also traded casino concert stories with the owner, who had apparently seen a very awesome Santana show there. (Actually, it did sound great.)

Next was a clothing store that had some used, some consignment, some remainder items. So really great prices, and stuff for both men and women. Jean tried on this leather jacket that fit him really well. And this almost never happens—he’s just not an “off the rack” size. So at $19.99, that was pretty hard to resist, so we didn’t. He also got a leather belt, while I picked up three tops. The grand total was under $60.

It was around lunchtime at this point, and we were hungry, so we decided to go to the “restaurant in a train” place that we’d been to on our last visit to Orillia (to buy the tickets). We had the same waitress! It was an enjoyable enough meal. In particular, my scallop appetizer, in chili and cocoa, was quite nice, and Jean enjoyed his main of lake trout (or some local-ish fish like that).

We now figured it was a reasonable enough time to head toward Singhampton, where we had bed and breakfast and dinner reservations. The drive was just fine, and we had spotted the B&B on the way up, so no trouble finding it. It’s called the Avalon, and while not the cheapest B&B ever, it’s really nice accommodations. You get a whole downstairs (not basement) area to yourself, with huge windows onto a beautiful view. The owner also toured us around most of the rest of the 5000 square foot house, all very open and festooned with stained glass. And interestingly, it uses geothermal heat (and cooling).

The grounds are also huge, and we took a little walk around those next, and got some photos (as above). Then it was nap time, as neither of us had slept that well the night before. Then up to get ready for dinner at Haisai.

This would be Michael Stadtlander’s new, cheaper (though certainly not cheap) restaurant. And the room is very characteristic of him and his wife Noboyu, with a crazy festooning of pottery and all natural wood furniture. Noboyu recognized us from our stop in August and generally made us feel comfortable. We were a bit surprised to see that the restaurant was not sold out on this Friday; it was maybe two-thirds full. And they were having fireplace issues, so it was a little cool in there.

But, everyone wants to know about the food right? It was a 10-course tasting menu. I made a point of writing down what we had that night.

  1. Single New Brunswick oyster—I forget how seasoned. But very nice.
  2. Smoked hock (from their farm, smoked for six months) on whole-wheat bread made there. The meat had really lovely taste and texture not quite like any other “ham” kind of thing I’ve had before. (And I do mean that in a good way.)
  3. Jerusalem artichoke soup with shallots and smoked pickerel. This man is really a soup genius; I couldn’t believe the creamy, wonderful taste and the contrast with the shallots. You almost didn’t need the fish.
  4. Georgian Bay lake trout (caught that day) in wasabi butter with blue potatoes. Definitely a highlight, the fish was meltingly good, and the sauce was so amazing, it was difficult not to lick the plate after. And the potatoes tasted pretty remarkable, too.
  5. White fish on a sauce of beet, chervil, and carrot, with spinach puree. Also a great combination of flavors.
  6. Salmonberry (or maybe some other kind of berry?) sorbet on wild apple. He’s also quite good with the sorbet.
  7. Roast piglet with wild mushrooms and cabbage. The meat was mouth-watering. Mmm, fat. Of course the mushrooms were good, but the cabbage also tasted just amazing. Because, I think, it was cooked in the mmm, fat.
  8. Duck breast with roasted carrot, squash, turnip, parsnip, and a squash ravioli. The most interesting thing here is that the duck,while good, was actually the least of this plate. These vegetables tasted amazing.
  9. Three kinds of Ontario cheese—goat, sheep, and gouda—served with pear and walnut cranberry bread. Ontario, it turns out, also makes good cheese.
  10. Tarte tatin with rum ice cream.

The new restaurant has a wine list, all Ontario. We enjoyed our first five courses with a lively Frog Pond Riesling, then switched to a glass each of Stratus Red. That’s an expensive wine, but it did taste fantastic. We have a bottle here, and now I’m dying to open it. With dessert, we had Earl Grey and mint tea, both well above average.

We came in quite hungry, and ended feeling satisfied but not stuffed, which is perfect. And we slept really well that night.

Onto Saturday now, which began with the breakfast part of the B&B. While we’d met the wife more the day before, today it was the husband who sat and talked with us while we ate our apple starter, delicious coffee, fresh baguette, and frittata. He was quite an interesting guy. He told us about how they’d ended up moving from Toronto to this location, the whole process of designing and building the house extension, the mechanics of geothermal.

They made Creemore sound like an interesting little town, so we decided to head there after checking out. And it is pretty cute. We spent some time in a bookstore, and I wanted many things, but decided I really needed to catch up on my reading first. At an antique store, we bought new stools for our breakfast bar—not antiques, those, they were new. They do look a bit snazzier. (Can’t say we’re not doing our bit for the Ontario economy.) And at the 100-mile shop, we bought a bunch of Ontario cheese, including some we’d had the night before. Fifth Town Cheese Company from Prince Edward County—try them out.

Then we headed home, so you might think this travel diary is done, but no… We decided to keep it going.

That night, we ate out at Art Bar. Once again, the food was quite good, holding up surprisingly well to our recent experience at Haisai. But once again, we seemed to be left fairly close to curtain time. I still don’t understand why they have such trouble getting us out in two hours. But anyway…

We had tickets to Cirque de la symphonie, which was the KW Symphony playing various pieces while, during most of them, circus performers did their thing. This was riveting! I couldn’t believe how fast the two hours (or so) went by. Particularly notable was this beautiful trapeze artist who did a really spectacular set on a rope in the second half. And then there was the gorgeous man who did this act with a big square (I find this stuff hard to explain) in the first half, then, shirtless, did this Icarus act in the second, jumping and flying around with a white sheet flapping behind him.

And the finale were these two guys, all in gold, one of whom can balance on the other and get into the most amazing poses. OK, my whole description of these performances sucks, but trust me, they were wonderful to see. (And thankfully, the Centre was very full for this show.)

Anyway. We both ended up very satisfied with this little November getaway. And Jean also had a great paddle (canoeing) on Sunday. It was a beautiful day, wasn’t it?

 

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