I Fall In Love A Lot, I Know

I am a fickle soul. Especially when it comes to coats.

I am also thinking about autumn and winter already. And this coat, by Gr.Dano.


But, really, can you blame me?

Bread Wrap Sandwich

I don't often get confused by food. There are things that I don't like, and there are things that I choose not to eat, but I pretty much understand the thought process behind why someone, anyone, would have come up with a dish.

On Friday, I was throughly stymied. We had a departmental planning session that occurred off-site, and was catered by the facility. At lunch, we were presented with wrap sandwiches, cut into quarters. Each one's filling was piled on top of a slice of buttered white bread, and then rolled up. The wrap was then sealed shut with more butter.

Gives a whole new meaning to the term Sandwich Wrap.

I retaliated in the only way that I knew how - poke out the vegetables and add them to my already massive salad, and make sarcastic comments about the food service.

Celebrity Sexual Positions. Plus, Pufferfish.

Am delighted that The Knights of Prosperity returned to TV last night. Love everything about this show.

Also, to celebrate my own awesomeness, I bought a new bag. I figure she'll do much to keep my Retrodelic company. Handmade, and one-of-a-kind, made by the talented Ellen from Bonspiel. Say hello to the Pufferfish:





I can't wait until she arrives!

Let Us Talk of Fried Spaghetti

That's right, I said fried spaghetti. It's freaking awesome. I've been eating it since I was wee, and I shall never, ever, ever not eat it.

Why is it so great? Well, it tastes amazing, much better, in my estimation, then pasta that comes out of boiling water and is smothered with sauce. It also ensures that you don't waste food, because, really, who wants to eat leftovers for days, or throw away sauce that you don't use first time around? No one, that's who. Also, it allows you to do something with cooked pasta that you probably never thought would be possible - freeze it and eat it later. Dude!

So, here's how you go about taking part in a meal of the gods. I'm going to pretend that you're like me and will be making pasta with the express purpose of frying it up.

1. Boil up pasta - stringy types like spaghetti or angel hair will work best. If you're planning on freezing leftovers, use a whole package.
   
2. Cook up a mess of tomato sauce.
   
3. Dump pasta into a large bowl, and pour sauce over top. Stir until pasta is covered.
4. Let cool and put in fridge. Let pasta absorb sauce over-night.
5. Grab a large non-stick frying pan and melt some butter on medium-high heat.
   
6. Put the amount of pasta that you'd like to eat in that there pan. Stir until heated through, and pasta absorbs butter.
7. Stop stirring. Let the pasta sit for a bit, drying out. Stir to get the top layer to the bottom of the pan. Let pasta sit. And so on and so on.
8. If you, like me, like dark toast, overcooked brownie edges, burnt cheese on pizza crust and the one or two lone dark chips that you might find in a bag of chips, you then let the pasta sit for a long time, until it becomes crispy, and, perhaps, a little blackened. Or a lot blackened.
   
9. Then you eat.
10. If you want to freeze spaghetti in order to fry it up later, after you coat the boiled spaghetti with sauce, grab some sandwich bags, and create individual portions then put in the freezer. Allow to defrost before frying.

The end.

Will Design For Food

I adore Jay McCarroll. Drama machinations aside, he's the most talented winner, hell, the most talented contestant, to make if out of Project Runway alive.

Yesterday, New York Magazine published an article, The Near Fame Experience, that perported to explore the bitter lows of appearing on Bravo's reality shows Project Runway and Top Chef. It's a great read, though, like everything, should be taken with a grain of salt. For a response, check out the latest entry on Andy from Bravo's blog.

Right, so read the article. Read Jay's quotes. Then watch these videos posted to YouTube on the date of the publication of the article.

With a Crystal Water's soundtrack...




And then the raw footage:

Book Review: Exit Strategy

As part of the miniBookExpo for Bloggers (hi Lex!), I got my paws on Kelley Armstrong's latest, Exit Strategy (Random House / Seal Books).

I've been an Armstrong reader since the publication of her first book, Bitten, the first in what would become the Woman of the Otherworld series. With the Otherworld series, Armstrong created a world of werewolves, witches, necromancers and demons, integrated into a very familiar modern-day world. A world full of strong, well developed female characters. What more could you ask for?

Unfortunately, I got to the place with Armstrong's books where I started to find the sparkle that I loved in her writing lacking, and I started to get bored. I confess that I couldn't make it through more then half Haunted, and have resisted picking up the two novels that followed. Add that to the fact that Exit Strategy was a story without a whiff of the supernatural? I approached Armstrong's latest with both trepidation and expectation.

Exit Strategy is the first work in Armstrong's newest series, the Nadia Stafford books. It's a straight-up suspenseful thriller, lacking all of the supernatural hallmarks of Armstrong's previous publications. That's not to say that it doesn't have a lot in common with her other stories - thankfully, the similarities are everything that got me hooked on Armstrong in the first place. Strong, nuanced characters. A female protagonist who gets that being strong doesn't mean denying emotion, or refusing to admit confusion or internal conflict. A well developed storyline. And events that maybe, just maybe, could be happening in your own backyard.

Nadia Stafford is an ex-cop and current assassin-for-hire (What is it about the words hit woman that sounds so awkward? It feels almost as bad as saying "lady doctor"). After finishing a job, she soon finds herself, along with her mentor Jack and other shady professional hit men tracking down a serial killer that they suspect is one of their own.

With Exit Strategy, Armstrong creates an excellent, fast-paced and layered story. The hunt for a killer is intertwined with the developing relationship between Nadia and Jack, the exploration of the underworld of killers for hire, and the revelation of the events in Nadia's past that have brought her to this particular place and time.

Kelley Armstrong is a smart writer. She knows when to push the action of the story ahead, and when to travel down the side roads to reveal motivation and depth. And this? This all delights me.

I'm glad to be enjoying Armstrong's writing again, and I am looking forward to seeing where she takes Nadia and her world next.

Long Weekend Cycling is Dangerous

It's true! Last year, on this exact same long weekend, I found myself dodging banana peels flung from cars. This year? Ah, we'll get to that momentarily.

One of the routes that I ride on takes me right on by Bronte Creek Provincial Park. Along with the campgrounds located on the far side of the park, there is also a day-use area that opens to visitors at 8AM. En route to pass the Day Use Entrance, I could see a mess of cars parked on the gravel shoulder of the road, waiting to enter the park and get their Civic Holiday Weekend Day Party on.

The stretch of Bronte Road that borders the park is an excellent, straight, flat stretch of street - perfect for a sprint. However, the thing about road riding is that you're always constantly on the look out for things that might go wrong in the path ahead of you. So, the need to sprint, and 10 or so cars parked on both sides of the road. The only solution? Start gaining speed, and flip from aware to hyper-aware, and begin to anticipate the possibilities and plan reactions to all of them.

In front of one of the cars on the right side of the road stood a couple, talking, cups of coffee in-hand. In fact, they stood, talking, on the line where gravel shoulder turned into paved road. And in my head, I could see them make the decision to step onto the pavement, and cross the street.

Real life was a little different. As I hurled myself down the road at 40 km/h, I saw the woman step back, away from the road. And the man, he took a step forward. And then another. And stopped. And took a sip o' joe. And stood there, feet firmly planted, looking everywhere but in the direction of on-coming traffic.

Have I ever told you about how much I hate to yell? Passionate, passionate dislike. Avoid it whenever I can.

I yelled. I yelled, "WATCH OUT!"

The man slowly swivled his head, and a huge, shit eating grin spread across his face as he slowly stepped back onto the shoulder of the road as I zipped by. First thing that flew through my mind? Someone got an early start on the drinking.

Although I didn't look back to see what happened after, Jason, my brother, was riding a bit behind me. When he caught up at our usual slow-down-and-hydrate stretch of road, he told me that the lug of a man had immediately stepped BACK onto the road. And gave him the same ear to ear smile when Jason, more eloquent then I, shouted, "Get the fuck out of the road!" as he came up to his position.

Roads are the new sidewalks. Who knew?

Do you like how I made a complete non-event sound all crazy dangerous? It's a gift.

A Final Chicago Post

Only the stuff of excellence that I haven't already mentioned, mind you.

Eating at:

• Spacca Napoli for pizza, Napels-style
• Campagnola for refreshing, summery Italian
• El Tapatio for excellent Mexican that even vegetarians can eat

Shopping at:

• Tangerine
• Habit

And running at 6AM along the lake. Along the lake!

The Chicago Haul

Sterling Silver Jess Necklace by Figs & Ginger



Swiss Dot Swing Dress by Alice + Olivia, inner shell silk, outer dress silk/cotton.



And from Anthropologie:

• Ruched Babydoll T by Velvet, in mushroom brown
• Mercury Rising Surplice T by Deletta in clover green
• Light weight bright blue wool boatneck sweater with 3/4 sleeves by Knitted Knotted that's not on-site

Charlie Trotter's: A Love Letter

Last night, Lisa, Matt and I ate at Charlie Trotter's. My expectations for the night were high, and were more then met by each and every aspect of the evening; excellent dining companions, impeccable and friendly treatment by the front of house staff, and food who's mere memory will be making me flap my arms like a goon for months to come.

Arriving at Charlie Trotter's, we were brought to a table in the upstairs back room. The room had four tables in total, and was simply lovely and elegant. Some would say the decor itself was dated, but I think those people stink. The notion that a restaurant has to have a slick and modern look to be current is a sad one. The building itself just felt good, if that makes any sense. The picture to the left shows a few angles. In the bottom left image, you'll see the table that we sat at in the corner, by the window and wall of wine.

Matt and Lisa made the excellent decision to partake of the premium wine pairing with their meal. Due to my light-weight almost never drinks status, I asked Fletcher, who, along with Molly, a sommelier with a delightful passion for her job, were responsible for revealing our courses to us as they appeared at the table, to recommend a single glass of red for me to nurse throughout the evening.

Lisa and I opted for the Vegetable Menu, and Matt partook of the Grand. Shall we take a look? But of course.

1st Bread:

• Individual miniature baguettes

1st Course:

• Vegetable Menu: Machta Green Tea Tapioca with Spring Peas & Green Apple
  
• Grand Menu: Scottish Langoustine with Cucumber & Ginger

2nd Bread:

• Oatmeal square shaped roll

2nd Course:

• Vegetable Menu: Steamed Twelve Season Miso Cake with Spinach, Easter Egg Radish & Preserved miniature carrots
  
• Grand Menu: Poached Cockles with Preserved Celery, Serrano Ham & Roasted Mayan Scarlet Peppers
  

3rd Bread:

• Miniature rosemary bagel

3rd Course:

• Vegetable Menu: Tempura of Summer Squash Blossom with Capers, Zucchini & Heirloom Tomatos
  
• Grand Menu: Alaskan Black Cod with Picholine Olives, Artichokes & Stinging Nettles
  

4th Course:

• Vegetable Menu: Morel Mushroom Cannelloni with TIny Sage, Summer Leek Custard & Roasted Shallot
  
• Grand Menu: Rabbit Loin & Leg with Turnips, Fingerling Potatoes & Mustard Greens
  

5th Course:

• Vegetable Menu: Grilled Red Plums with Poached Elephant Garlic, Amaranth & Thai Long Pepper Infused Merlot
  
• Grand Menu: Crawford Farm Lamb Loin & Rack with Garlic, Aged Manchego & Parsley
  

Palette Cleanser:

• Vegetable Menu: Watermelon Sorbet with Sake Gelee & Cucumber
• Grand Menu: Canteloupe (Sorbet) with Feta Cheese & Spearamint
  

Desserts - Shared:

• Poached White Peaches with Rolled Oats & Lavender (Ice Cream)
  
• Indonesian Chocolate (Ice Cream) with Pine Nuts & Pandan Broth
• Organic Buttermilk with White Pepper, Toasted Milk Ice Cream & Nutmeg
• Chocolate, Tea (Ice Cream) and Caramel
• Another ice cream / sorbet-based dish with a red wine-based twist
• Another ice cream / sorbet-based dish of a trio of lemon and chocolate paired flavours
  

Dessert - Individual

• Small cups of gently flavoured, uncooked meringue with a stick of dark chocolate for scooping

I really believe that this was the first tasting menu that I've experienced where I adored everything that was set in front of me. Each dish, as it came to the table, became my new favourite of the night. Because I am fickle like that.

And another because: Because I like lists, here's what I've been able to pull out as things that will be sticking in my mind for a long, long time:

• Fletcher's excellent sense of humour. When I remarked, as I tend to do, about the laughably large size of my wine glass, he quickly grabbed a glass that was bigger then my head from some magical closet nearby, and set it in front of me.
• Molly's deep knowledge of wine, and her delight in finding Lisa's similar love. She made recommendations for Lisa's future wine shopping expedition, and made sure to tell Lisa to use her name with one of her suppliers.
  
• The plates and cutlery fit so well together, and the plating of each dish? Amazing.
• The smell of the miniature rosemary bagels. And really, the smell of each plating, and the way that the flavours of each developed in my mouth. With each course, every forkful seemed to reveal a different aspect of each dish. Complex, but, at the same time completely understandable.
• Favourite parts: the miso cake; the heirloom tomato sauce; the morel cannelloni and leek custard - the cannelloni was actually a morel filling surrounded by skin of leek; the flavour pairing of grilled plums and garlic; the thin layer of chocolate covering a thin layer of caramel under a scoop of tea ice cream; lemon and chocolate
• And finally, Molly taking us on a quick tour of the kitchen, and the fact that each and every one of the kitchen staff took the time to look up from their station and acknowledged us as we tried to move through the room as quickly and unobtrusively as possible. Lisa's calling out of "behind you" caused more then one to take pause and ask which of use had worked in a kitchen. Which was awesome.

I congratulate and thank those at Charlie Trotter's for an amazing experience. And to Lisa, Matt for being so awesome and clever for coming up with the suggestion to eat there.

The end.

July is Tourist Month

And last night, Frontera Grill was over run by the jean short wearing lot of them. I wonder how many were there because the food is excellent, and how many were there just because Bayless is famous enough to have been on a multitude of television shows. There's something very wrong about arriving at a restaurant, one that doesn't except reservations, mind you, at 5:30 to be told that it would be a good two hours before they could even think about seating you.

Thankfully, the wonderful Blackbird was able to fit us in, and I don't think we could've had a more lovely meal. The Pinenut Gazpacho was summer in a bowl, and the Buckwheat Crepes were a perfect entree to follow. The dining room was light and airy, and the front of house staff was a delight. So I'm pretty happy that we couldn't get into Frontera, to tell you the truth.

Tonight? Charlie Trotters. Dude.

At Blogher yesterday, I sat in on a couple of technical sessions - accessibility standards and traffic drivers - that made the conference completely worthwhile. I'm hoping that I'll be able to get into the panel discussion that's playing host to Amy Sedaris this afternoon, but I have a feeling that the room is going to be bursting at the seams.

Props to Blogher for:

• Technical sessions
• Amy Sedaris
• Sponsor AOL's awesome swag - a Casauri laptop bag
  

Not so much with the props to Blogher for:

• Unfocused Community Building session
• Caterers who (a) put bacon in the only green salad on the buffet, and (b) decided that vegetarian baked beans would be an excellent vegetarian meal option in the middle of a sweltery, muggy summer.
  

Sweet, Sweet Chicago, Day 1.5

Chicago makes me smile. That's pretty much the best thing that any city can do, I think. So I guess it's a pretty good thing that that's where I am right now.

I arrived mid-afternoon yesterday, and was promptly whisked away from the utility vest wearing masses at O'Hare by my lovely, lovely friend Lisa. We headed into the city to check me in at my hotel, and headed off in search of CYCLING GOLD.

Matt, Lisa's husband, rides bikes. And when I say he rides bikes, I don't mean that he meanders about the roads like I do, I mean that he gets his ass in races and he picks up points, and sometimes performs magic tricks at the same time. Last night, we all headed down to the velodrome just outside of the city to watch some excellent athletic craziness go down. There's nothing finer then sitting outside with friends you haven't seen in person in a good year watching people ride around and around in circles, sometimes at speeds that make your head spin.

Also, athletic feats provide excellent fodder for the mocking. Because we are horrible, horrible people. Dry humping and disco? I can't even begin to tell you about it.

This morning, after the gym and food shopping for breakfast at Fox and Obel - yes, I've gotten to that point where I've traveled so much that I refuse to eat every meal in a restaurant - I walked on down to the Navy Pier for the start of the BlogHer 07 conference. Where I am now. Blogging. Because I am an utter, utter nerd. In my defense, however, the welcome session that's occurring at this very minute has devolved into what I can only describe as a 700-person theatre game masked as an introduction tool.

Theatre games give me hives. And instead of being a useful tool, they make me feel like a tool. So I have retreated to one of the session rooms, and am patiently waiting for the session-y bits of the day to start.

This evening, we're going to see if the excellently hirsute Rick Bayless' restaurant Frontera Grill will allow us to sample their wares. This is where I clap like a goon.

Oh, people are starting to wander into the room! So post this I will, and see you in a bit, kids.

I Am Chicago

I'm heading off to Chicago for a while. The Job is sending me to BlogHer, due to our plans to increase participation in social media outlets. And I'm sending me to hang out for a couple of days after the conference ends to spend time with dear friends, Lisa and Matt, and their awesomely handsome and lovable furry faced boys, Otis and Eddie.

Plans for nerdiness? Check.
Plans for dining? Check.
Plans for shopping? Check.

Excellent.

Little Nano Lost

On Friday, I forgot my Nano, the armband it lives in, and my headphones on an elliptical machine at the gym.

I had hopes that the person who came across it would turn it in at the reception desk.

My hopes? Yeah, dashed. So, I am Nano-less.

I think I would be more upset if (a) I had bought the thing instead of winning it, and (b) I didn't have a Shuffle and a Mini sitting in the wings.

But still - I guess I just can't understand how a person can come across something that isn't theirs and just take it. It makes me a little sad. Ah, well...I do hope they're enjoying my excellent Gym playlist.

A Keller Dish

This is what's cooking in my oven right now:


If you've seen Ratatouille, it might look a little familiar - this is my attempt at Thomas Keller's Confit Byaldi, a layered ratatouille that the film's ultimate dish, and namesake, is based around. I clap my hands! I hope it will be lovely in my belly. Expect pictures of the completed dish later on today.

Edit: Okay, so cooked, it pretty much looks the same. But maybe a little more transparent. So no new pictures for you!

Links
Unfortunately, the NYT requires that you create an account, but it's free, and worthwhile to take the time:

• New York Times - Recipe: Confit Byaldi
• New York Times - Article: A Rat With a Whisk and a Dream
  

The Era of Soft

For the past year or so, I've been introducing and re-introducing myself to clothing made of soft, soft fabric. Cashmere, pima and modal have changed the way I think of how clothes should feel. Man, oh man.

A few weeks ago, I started thinking about my fall wardrobe. And I bought myself two velvet jackets. Because I feel like autumn? Autumn is a fine time to become a dandy. Strangely enough, in the last two weeks, the unseasonably cold weather outside and the ice-box that is my office have allowed me to bring these pieces onboard earlier then I had anticipated. Delight!

I can't decide which I love more - the cognac sporty version, or the orchid violet military band sucker.

Well, see for yourself - what do you think?

Multiplying! Like Rabbits!

That is my fear. Why, you ask? Because I have a hankering to add another soul the the menagerie I wear around my neck. Say hello to Filou Design's Bunny from the Enchanted Forest collection:



Think I should chance being over-run by the buns?

I Do Not Have A Time Machine

Which is a shame, as I found myself wishing, fleetingly, for one last night.

Don't get me wrong - Built to Spill is an amazing, startling band. But my favourite version of Built to Spill? 1994's There's Nothing Wrong with Love. And that's the band that I found myself wishing that I was watching. Right before I started wishing I was still as stupid as I was back in 1994, when I got crazy-enjoyment out of standing for hours in a sardine-packed-like rock club, smelling other people's sweat as they rocked out.

But it isn't, and I didn't, and I came away with the realization that I've used up all my rock-out-with-your-cock-out hanging about years ago.

That sounds full of complaints, though, doesn't it? So let me tell you about the things that ruled about the evening:

• Doug Marsch is a controlled explosion of beautiful noise
• Indie rock beard was representing in full effect
• Bumping into people that I haven't seen in years
• Opening band Attack in Black
  

Big. Dumb. Movie.

Transformers is a big, dumb movie. Excellent to watch with the explosions and robot transformations and effects, horrible for anything resembling a story.

Summer movie, through and through.

I wish I had liked it more then I did, but when a relic of your childhood is re-invented, it's hard not to approach it with expectations.

The excellence of the Transformers cartoon was the fact that the focus was on the struggle between two robot forces, and everything that happened with humanity? Side story. There was a certain elegance about how the Autobots interactedwith humanity, and Optimus Prime NEVER would've been the clueless, demanding brat, uttering the phrase, "My bad".

But still, stuff blows up. And blows up good.

Ratatouille

I watch a lot of movies. A lot. I gots me a bunch o' movie channels with my cable package, and my, do I make great use of them. Thing is, this has made me into a very lazy first-run, get out of the house and into a movie theatre movie watcher.

A film has to make me madly excited to actually want to make the effort to see it when it first comes out. And so far, this summer, Ratatouille is the only film that has made me want to sit in a dark room with overly talkative strangers.

I made use of today's corporate holiday to take myself out to the movies, and dammit, am I glad I did. On paper, Ratatouille seemed like a film that was made for me to adore. A kitchen based on five star restaurants in Paris? Check. Dishes based on the time animators spent interning in Thomas Keller's (who has a bit-part as a restaurant patron in the North American version) French Laundry? Check. A witty, talking rat who wants to be more then he is told that he can be, with an overwhelming love of food? Dammit, check!

Yes, Ratatouille is a Disney / Pixar production. It is also one of the most well written films, catering not to babyish and cloyingly sweet dialogue, but in passionate belief and love of embracing your own talent to succeed.

I think I really fell in love with this movie when Colette, one of the chef's in the restaurant's kitchen, lays out the truth of what being a woman in the culinary world is like, as well as the truths of the kitchen - including the importance of a clean workstation, and how to properly hold your arms when cooking. It's smart - a real and true rarity in widely released films these days.

Writing aside, it's also an amazing, beautiful piece of artwork to watch. At times, I forgot that I was seeing something that was animated - the movement of fur, the reflective metallic surfaces of the pots and pans, the emotive facial expressions...I could go on - but watch the trailer for yourself, and you'll see what I mean!

Crapsticks - I've Been Tagged

8 Random Things About Me - This is Amblus's Fault

I respond poorly to compiling these kinds of lists. My first reactions is always fear that I'll never come up with enough things to fill up all the slots o' random - not because I have nothing to say, but because everything else I post about is randomly chosen bits of random randomness. If you've spent any time here, you know of my fascination with pirates and read-a-thons and clothes and revealing the random minutia of my everyday life. Lists like this kind of make me wish that I had decided to create a theme-blog, so I'd have things to talk about that you haven't read before.

I confess that there are things that I don't generally talk about here. For instance, I really do shy away from posting about work. Okay, so I might tell you about how I have been known to doing The Robot in the middle of my department's workspace, or how I'm attending a Usability / Information Architecture / Social Media conference for work, or how I use my co-workers as guinea pigs for my kitchen experiments, but that's as deep as I'll go. For some reason, things like what goes on at my job seem like a far too private thing to talk about on-blog, and to do so would simply lack professionalism. Says the woman who breakdances in the middle of her office.

Sometimes, the idea of being succinct and I have wars. WARS OF WORDS.

I think random capitalization is still shit-hot funny. Also on this list of things that have been, and will continue to be, over-used by me because I will never find them not funny are: shaking a fist at the sky; throat punching; and buying matching sateen jackets with a gang name written across the back, a la The Pink Ladies. I also have a sneaking suspicion that I am no where near as funny as I think I am.

Nigel Barker is my #1 Reality TV Show boyfriend.

I used to think that I if I came into a windfall of cash that I wouldn't be able to hack the life of the idle rich. I don't think that any more. If you are a bargazillionaire, please write me into your will.

For a while, I seemed to move to a new home every year, for work, or grad school, or...okay, only for work and grad school. I have no reason to move now. I own my own home. I own my own home that feels utterly and completely like me. And yet? I am itchy. I kind of want to move to a new house. Just because I want to be in a new set of walls. I am aware that that makes no sense, and put the kibosh on the urge every time it surfaces.

I'm disappointed by the lot of you (I SEE YOU) that have clicked through to the comment page on the post prior to this one and not said anything. Especially you kids that have done so from a computer connected to my workplace network. And I have just outed myself as (a) scary, and (b) a nerd that knows the server address of my place of employment.

I'm not going to tag anyone, and most of the people who I would poke at have already done this one.

Why Are You Here?

A few months back, I talked about why I blog. Now, I want to know: why do you read me?

And yes, dammit, I'm trying to get you kids to talk to me - I know you're there! Looking at my site stats, I'm averaging about 800 readers a week, and I know a mess of you have subscribed to my RSS feed. Why don't you talk to me? Am I that scary?

Talk to me, dammit!

Models! Oh, Sorry, I Meant "Models".

So, "models"!

It's no secret that I have a deep, abiding love for talent/fashion-based reality shows. Project Runway, Shear Genius, Top Chef, Designer Superstar Challenge, From the Ground Up...I could go on and on.

My special favourites are all of the incarnations of the Top Model franchise. None of which have produced an actual Top Model. Some working models, yes, but top? Not so much.

While looking for online episodes of Season 2 (I refuse to call it a cycle) of Canada's Next Top Model, I came across a YouTube contributor who has given me the most amazing gift - the entire just passed season of Australia's Next Top Model. And it is just madly brilliant.

It's amazing to see what a new production company does to make an idea their own; AusNTM Season 3 has thrown a couple of excellent twists into the mix

• lowering the minimum age to 16;
• sending only the final three contestants overseas, completely on their own, to work with people that they've never met before;
• having the final two audition for a place in a Australian Fashion Week runway show instead of just giving a place to them;
• actually having the runway show be an actual show that would go on without the series' participation;
• competitions throughout the season that had the winners take part in paying modeling gigs;
• giving the viewing audience a vote as to who should win, with a weighing of 15% in the final decision;
• making the finale a live show where the judges deliberated and voted out loud for the winner;
• and, most importantly, having mentors that addressed the realities of the industry.

And yet? Still brought the drama. Excellent. See for yourself!

Play a Shopping Game with Me

Say you win a $5000 shopping spree at Bergdorf Goodman (I would've preferred to have sent you to Holt Renfrew, being local to me and all, but Holts? Not so up with the online commerce). You can only spend it on clothing, no shoes, bags, jewellery or the like - clothing only. What do you buy? Also, lucky you - BG is currently having quite the sale!

My choices are below. If you have your own blog and want to play, create a similar kind of post, and comment on this post with a link to it!

My grand total: $4926. And seriously, without the past season on sale stuff? I could only have fantasy-shopped maybe two or three of them.


Carmen Marc Valvo Sleeveless Printed Dress - $625


Catherine Malandrino Embroidered Dress - $315


Diane von Furstenberg Printed Empire Waist Dress - $244


Dolce & Gabbana Classic Jacket and Pants - $837 / $347


Lela Rose Lace-Hem Shirtdress - $895


M Missoni Printed Slipdress (without the cardigan) - $357


Moshino Cheap & Chic Print Dress - $679


Narciso Rodriguez Cut-out Dress - $627

Four Things, Part the Second

It is not Sunday, no matter what the back of my mind says. Funny thing about routines and how shifting things a day up messes with your internal clock.

I am hurty-exerty all over, due to three-in-a-row days of working out with my trainer, Jeff, as we re-jigged my weight training program. And it feels good. This time around, I'm working each side in isolation, completing one set on one side, and then one set on the other. Without the stabilization that hefting weights into the air (I am strong, like bull!), making use of both sides of the body, affords, each exercise is twice as difficult. And three times as awesome. I am just hoping that my body recovers enough so I can head out on my bike tomorrow.

I am not attending the family reunion by cousins on my mom's side. Occuring: right now. And I don't think I need to delve into the why again, so I shan't.

This is Day 2 of puttering about in the kitchen. Resulting in the following batches of deliciousness:

• Chocolate Raspberry Ice Cream
• Cinnamon Peanut Butter
• Strawberry Sorbet
• Seitan
• Roasted Cauliflower Soup

Four Things

I am excited: I'll be eating at Charlie Trotters with lovely, lovely friends next month.

I am delighted: I emailed David Lebovitz to tell him about how much I love his new ice cream recipe book, The Perfect Scoop, and to relate my successful substitution of homemade, natural peanut butter in one of his recipes, and he wrote back! There's nothing more excellent then when talented, busy people display excellent, witty manners.

I am a dick: I once decided that it was important to know how many push-ups (real push-ups, mind you, none of this girlie stuff) I could do in one go. Count: 46.

I am gleeful: Canada's Next Top Model has evolved from embarrassing to awesome (fierce!) in the space of a season. Thank God for Jay Manuel, and the extra production budget and guests that having him as host brings. The best thing heard on last night's episode? "Whose penis is this?"

The Daytime of the Night

From the ads, I knew that I would love Flight of the Conchords. I just wasn't prepared for how much.





Here - see for yourself. The Robot Video:




Like it?

• Watch the complete first episode at HBO's site
  

And clips from their HBO One Night Stand - Jenny:




Albi, the Racist Dragon:




Business Time:

Please Don't Stalk Me

But if you want to join me when I take to the road on my bike, here's what my most recent routes have been looking like. All are a little over 60 minutes, and vary between 20 - 30 km (that's 12 - 18 miles for you imperial measurers).


Hill Ride #1




Hill Ride #2




Hill Ride #3




And a relatively Flat Ride #1

Big Love - The Back Story

As posted to YouTube by HBO

• 5 Years Ago - Postpartum Depression - Nikki's first child
• 3 Years Ago - Meet the Babysitter - Margene is introduced to Nikki
• 14 months Ago - Big Move - Barb, Nikki and Margene ask for separate houses
  

This Is My New Couch

She only sits one, and is located outside, but damn, is she making my home more comfortable every minute.

Aw, Crapsticks.

I moved into my home 3 years ago. It came with an AC unit that was original to the building, and I knew that eventually, eventually, I would have to replace it.

That eventually happened last night. The freon inside the unit, where did it go? No one knows. But 18 years is a pretty good run for any appliance, no?

Thankfully, the following occurred today:

• A customer who had an AC install with the company that I'm using scheduled for tomorrow morning canceled.
• I'm had scheduled myself to work from home tomorrow.
• And the company hacked $200 off because they were trying to fill the spot.

Hopefully, if nothing crazy occurs, I'll have a cool house by tomorrow night. Cross your fingers, kids.

Passing the Torch

For the past couple of years, I've helmed a number of Squidoo lenses dedicated to providing an index of Canadian and International websites that sell and ship goods to Canada. Because the shopping? It is a love of mine.

Last week, I decided that though I loved ferreting out new retailers that provide shopping carts to Canadian customers, the job was becoming just that - a job. A job that really needed much more time dedicated to it to make sure that the lenses did their subject matters justice.

I'm passing the torch: Bargainista has graciously taken on the mantel of lens master. And I can't wait to see what she does with them!

Shoes of Silver, Thoughts of Gold

The only way to really know a city is to walk it. And whenever I travel to for business meetings, for conferences or to visit friends, I spend most of my time making friends with the city while I pound the pavement.

For years, I've been looking for a pair of shoes that (a) aren't running shoes, (b) don't look like ass, (c) I can wear while clad in a dress or skirt, and (d) let me walk and walk and walk and not end up in crippling pain at the end of the day.

I finally found a pair of silver Mary-Jane style shoes made by Puma, and I picked them up at the post office this morning. They make me smile and fill my head with thoughts of the streets I'll be walking down this summer.


Silver!

George Michael Bluth Grows Up

You really must view the newest online project of Michael Cera and Clark Duke, Clark and Michael. Brilliant and funny. Brilliantly funny.

Dear Ryan Reynolds:

Again, why is it that you're not my boyfriend?

I mean, just because I've been telling people that you're my Hollywood Boyfriend (PS: Evan Dando is still my mid-90's Indie Rock Boyfriend, and Ian Thorpe is my Closeted Gay Olympic Boyfriend. I get around) since Two Girls a Guy and a Pizza Place (last parenthesis this post: Nathan Fillion is my TV Boyfriend. I hope that won't make you fight. Or, I do hope that will make you fight. Because that would be hilariously sexy. Like Firth v. Grant in the Bridget Jones movies) it really doesn't make it true.

But then you decide to contribute to the Huffington Post, and your inaugural post is about Competitive Eating, one of my excellent subject matter obsessions? Seriously, mister, you make my heart go pitter-pat.

You need to stop doing that, please.

Thank you, and goodnight.

Why, Hellloooo, Creamy Goodness

This book arrived at my house today:


Since I have a tendency to bring in the bulk of my kitchen experiments into the office to share, I bet you're wishing you worked with me now.

I Have a New Robot

One of my dearest, funniest obsessions are robots. Whether it's doing the robot, telling people about the wonder that is Robot Frank, or pretending that the things I buy just might be robots in disguise, I feel like this one is a healthy and hilarious obsession. Unlike the one I have with pirates. Which just gets me into trouble.

The newest addition to my robot family is the Cat Eye Astrale 8. She sits, perched on the handles of my bike, telling me the distance I've peddled, the speed I'm barreling along at, the maximum speed I've hit on a ride, the average speed, how long I've been peddling for, the actual time o' day, and, most importantly, the cadence of my peddling.

This morning, I went out on a hill ride, and started training myself to keep a constant cadence -
peddling more or less forcefully, and switching gears up and down to keep an effective and efficient ride. And it freaking ruled.

Apropos of nothing, here's a confession: I'm currently watching a reairing of the Miss Universe Pagent for two reasons:

• Judges Nina Garcia and Marc Bouwer
• The below fall:

Assholes of the Animal Kingdom

I am compiling a list. Feel free to contribute.

1. Canada Geese. Yes, majestic. Yes, a symbol of the country I live in. And yet? Nasty, nasty little birds. Territorial in a way that you will never understand unless you experience for yourself - and territorial not in a way where they've staked out claim on a slice o' geography, but territorial in the sense in that if you come within 10 feet of them, wherever they are, they will GO AFTER YOUR EYES. Also, poop as big as your thumb.
2. Zebras. The Colbert Report learned me this: attacking zebras have caused more deaths in zoos then traditional predators, like lions and tigers and bears combined. Why? Because when they bite you, they won't let go until you are dead. I feel that zebras need to replace bears on Colbert's Threat-Down.

Talking about tigers, you have to read this story about Boris, the Siberian Tiger transfered from Montreal to Edmonton. Poor Boris - he only speaks French. He must be so loney.

Riding Blind

Ever since I got me a new, lovely road bike, I've been riding roads that I've never, ever been on before. In the city that I live in, the line between subdivision and farmstead / hiking trail woodlands is very distinct, and very, very close.

Early this morning, before many cars took to the road, my legs and my bike took the rest of my body across that line, up into the rural wilderness. The route I took was one of the prettiest and most difficult that I've attempted so far. The roads twisted and turned and were full of hills that needed climbing, and racing down the other side at speeds I've never hit before.

There's nothing like having the wind in your face as you swoop down a narrow country road full of hairpin turns, only to hit an incline of an even steeper magnitutude, and, realizing after you've made it to the top that you successfully resisted the urge to stand while peddling to make getting up that hill easier.

Also, I passed a horse farm. Horse farm! I now wish to take dressage lessons there.

I know I'm going to pay for this morning's ride tomorrow. Hell, I'm exhausted right now, but, damn, I can ride hills!

What Will Happen When Knut Grows Up?

Though it is inevitable, of course, I think capturing wee Knut while still wee is key. So here's the little man, by CreativeThursday, print available via her Etsy Shop.


Unrelated and random, this morning, I found myself delighted and may have clapped my hands like a goon. Why? Headed to Chicago at the end of July.

The end.

Vital and Fabulous Communications

Cracking. Up.

There Are A Number Of Reasons To Stop Eating Meat

There are a number of reasons to stop eating meat, by either cutting down, or cutting it out entirely. Here's a brand spanking new situation that I've never run across before - until today. Yes, I've lifted the below article in it's entirety. I am lazy. And don't have a subscription to the Wall Street Journal.

Source: Article via Serious Eats via The Wall Street Journal

Junk Food Fed Livestock

Posted by Alaina Browne on May 22, 2007

The growing demand for corn-based ethanol is pushing up the price of corn, causing some livestock producers to supplement their animals' diets with more affordable human food:

Dwight Hess, a cattle feedlot operator in Marietta, Pa., is located in the heart of snack country, near Hershey and Herr Foods Inc., a maker of potato chips, pretzels and snack mixes. His cattle ration consists of about 17% "candy meal," a blend of chocolate bars and large chunks of chocolate; 3% of what he calls "party mix," a blend of popcorn, pretzels, potato chips and cheese curls; 8% corn gluten; and the remainder corn and barley he grows. He says the byproducts save him about 10% on feed costs. Still, it costs him about 65 cents to put a pound on a steer, up from 42 cents last year.

No mention of how these animals taste compared to their corn-fed counterparts. [via The Food Section]

New York, Where We Get to the Jeans

Right, where did I leave off, before falling into an exhausted heap? Dinner on Friday, no? Ah, so let's pick up there.

After polishing off an insanely pleasing spread, we walked on over to a bar on the lower east side, where a friend of Heather's was throwing a birthday party for her husband. When I finally started to fade, I headed back to my hotel with plans to meet Lauren for an Important Shopping Expedition the next day.

Saturday morning, I did my best Heather impersonation and infiltrated the Equinox Fitness at 2nd and 54th. It was a very lush fitness centre, and put my own chain to shame with the loveliness and the working equipment. On the way back to my room, I picked up a couple of bananas, some plain greek yogurt and granola at the Food Emporium, and a coffee at Pax Wholesome Foods.

Lauren and I met up late morning, and started walking all about SoHo, NoHo and the LES, through both drizzle and rain, stopping at sample sales and in a few week boutiques. I found a few jersey dresses that I would have loved to have bought at Zachary's Smile, but they were cut too big for my frame. We lunched at a sweet restaurant who's name escapes me (I remember! Say hello to Zoe Restaurant), and I dined on a layered spinach salad with shaved mushrooms, a light vinaigrette and toasted pistachios. One of the best salads that I have ever eaten, and I was sad that, even though it was as big as my head, that I tore through it so quickly. Lauren and I split up around 5PM, and I headed back into midtown, with a mission that only Barneys could fulfill.

My mission? A pair of super-dark jeans with no distressing or obnoxious pocket details. Fulfilled quite ably, by J Brand's 914 in Ink.

By the time I made my way out of Barney's, after cruising through floor after floor of designer dresses, none of which made me want to try them on, not for lack of trying to fall in love with them, it was pissing down rain in a rather unpleasant manner. And my stomach was screaming at me to put something in it. I stopped by Pax and picked up a veg wrap, and made my way, drowned like rat, back to my room. Due to the obnoxiously early Sunday morning flight that I had booked, I decided to make it an early night, and stayed in.

This morning, my 5:30 AM nodding-off while sitting in the terminal was interrupted by a gaggle of screaming children playing Nerf Football while their parents encouraged them to ham it up as they snapped pictures and drank mimosas made at the bench seating. If I hadn't already decided to not have kids, I do so think that this would've been the morning that would've pushed me over the edge.

The flight itself was uneventful, excepting the descent into Toronto. Looking out the window, I saw the most amazing thing that I have witnessed in a long, long time. The cloud-cover between 15,000 and 10,000 feet was gauzy and riddled with holes. The way the sun shone though the empty spaces and illuminated the clouds around them was absolutely startling and stunning.

And now I am home.

The end.

I Go To New York, Eat Raw and Buy Jeans

It's true, I do. But if it works, it works, no?

Friday's flight out was delayed by two hours, putting me smack-dab in the middle of drizzley rush hour traffic on the drive into Manhattan. But the frustration of it all evaporated when I met up with my friends Heather and Lauren at Pure Food and Wine. Excellent conversation and food that was vegan and raw and immensely flavourful. Who could ask for anything more?

We decided to go with the five course tasting menu, pared with a refreshing rose. For most of the courses, we all received something completely different, and I feel like almost everything that came out of the kitchen was something that I had wanted to try. So we shared every dish, and it was so, so satisfying and flavourful, I can't even begin to tell you. Wanna see it? Here it goes.

Amouse Bouche:

• Chunk of cashew cheese topped with a blackberry with a balsamic reduction

First Course:

• Spicy Thai Lettuce Wraps with Tamarind Chile Sauce, Pea Shoots, Mango and Cabbage
• Jerusalem Artichoke and Cucumber Dolmas with Cilantro Tahini, Preserved Lemon Oil and Fresh Mint
• Ironbound Island Sea Vegetable Salad with Blue Green Algae Dust, Watercress, Avocado, and Mellow White Miso Dressing

Second Course:

• Marinated Shiitake and Avocado Sushi Rolls with Pink Pickled Ginger, Cucumber, Dulse rolled in Jicama Rice
• Morel Mushrooms with Spring Vegetables and Ramp Cream, Sweet Corn, Sugar Snap Peas and 50 Year Balsamic
• White Corn Tamales with Raw Cocoa Mole, Marinated Mushrooms, Salsa Verde and Avocado

Third Course:

• Cold Avocado Soup with Mango and Chili Chutney

Fourth Course:

• Zuchinni and Roma Tomato Lasagne with Basil-Pistachio Pesto, Sun-Dried Tomato Sauce and Pignoli Ricotta
• Lapsang Smoked Portabella Mushroom with Caper Potato Salad, Hawthorne Valley Ruby Kraut, and Wildflower Honey Mustard
• Chanterelle Mushroom and Kalamata Olive Raviolo with Macadamia Cream, Parsely Salad and Pistachio Oil

Palate Cleanser:

• Shot glasses of Melon Water

Fifth Course:

• Chocolate Molten Lava Cake with Mocha Mousse, Chocolate Sauce, and Vanilla Pink Peppercorn Ice Cream
• Passion Fruit Mousse with Lime Cream and Pineapple Coconut Sorbet
• Orchid Trio of Ice Creams of Umeboshi Lemongrass, Chamomile Tamarid Mangluck and Green Tea Cardamom Pistachio

Dude, I KNOW.

I Have Problems with Cell Phones

I can't use them.

Okay, I can, but not very well.

Seriously.

I put it down to both disinterest, and the fact that, without prior experience, it's pretty much impossible to just pick one up and make a call. See, my lack of desire to be able to be reached whenever and where ever - I couldn't even tell you what my cell number is without looking it up - has lead to my resistance to learning how to use a technology that's so much more complex then it needs to be.

If I could have a cell phone that had an ON/OFF button, an ANSWER button, and a HANG UP button, along with all the numbers, I would possibly use mine more often. Possibly. Okay, probably not, but I'd be much happier when I did make use of it.

I don't think there's been such a device since the times of Zach Morris.

PS: It's impossible to find a picture of Morris on his cell phone, so I made the picture you see above. I am a talented lass.

Interviewed By A Creampuff

So Rose has an awesome idea: Comment on a post where she answers five interview questions, and she'll ask you five questions of her own, only if you offer to do the same for others. So, here goes.

First, the Q&A.


1. Susur calls. He's coming over later, just to hang. What do you cook for him?

Oh, man. OH, MAN. First off, I would love to know your plans for how I can make Susur a friend who would come all the way to Burlington to just hang. Because I feel like that's something that I would very much like to happen.

So I've been thinking about this for a bit, and I've come to the conclusion that I wouldn't cook a damn thing. Ah, but I would MAKE stuff. If he moseyed on over, and it was no where near time for a meal, I would serve up a batch of homemade chocolate cinnamon cayenne ice cream - you know the icy wonder that I'm talking about, lady. I'd probably pair that with a sauce made from my cinnamon peanut butter. Just because I think it would fucking rock.

Since I tend to love the flavours and type of cooked cuisine that Lee specializes in, I would take a complete left turn and prepare something completely different. Yup, I'd uncook him a few raw food vegan dishes. Veg sushi made with jicama rice as a starter, and a zucchini lasagne with cashew-cheese as a main. And then that freakfest ice cream for dessert.



2. So, uh . . . what's with you and the monkeys?

There's nothing like a prehensile tail.

Really, though, when I step back from the monkey cuteness and really think about it, their genetic proximity to the human animal is a constant reminder of the respect that we have for the beings that we share the planet with. And they're also a constant reminder as to one of the reasons why I haven't eaten anything with a face in over a decade.

I fear I have just outed myself as a hippy. Damn you, Rosemary!


3. Which embarassing teen film did you feel captured the essence of your experience but when you watched it as an adult, made you cringe?

The Breakfast Club. I was so sure that I was that geek that Brian represented. Looking back, I had such a distorted view of myself, it makes me laugh. But I really value that as well, because I don't think I'd be the awesome ass (with an awesome ass) that's before you now without putting all that crap and pressure and need to people-please on myself, you know?


4. If you could go back and deliver a message to your twenty year old self, what would you say?

I gots three:

• Google
• The Pocket Fisherman really IS the best Popiel invention ever.
• Stop being a fool and let yourself fall in love already.

5. If you could have any superpower, what would it be?

This is something that we really shouldn't talk about.

I've already said too much.

Damn you, Rosemary!

Okay, I would love to be a pre-cog, but only if I could control it. I really am that much of a control freak.



And now, the give and take. Want to take part? Leave a comment with your email address and I'll make up a few questions for you to answer.

Latest Etsy Loves

In the past, I've told you about The Black Apple, Bonspiel Creations and Hollyhawk Handmade Leather. Figured it was time to tell you about a few new kids who have caught my eye. Say hello to:

ORNO (the all-caps is their idea)


Blueberry Bandit:


And Pop Pictures:

The Birds

I have an abiding love for handmade animal creations. The latest object of my admiration is Ann Wood.

Wood's handmade bird sculptures, made of vintage, reclaimed fabrics, just delight me to no end. She's recently started a series called The Daily Bird where a new creation is posted for sale every day.

That's right. One. One a day. Which means that I am never quick enough to snap one of these lovelies up. So, let's take a look of my favourites wee cheeping lads and lasses so far.




Confidential to Kate and Rose: She does completely lovely and outrageous cake toppers as well.