It’s that time of year when most people start to reflect upon their time spent over the past months, and I am one of them. I have a lot of great things to reflect upon; I took a year off between school and university, and so much of that year was spent filling time with anything that would distract me from the 14 years of being institutionalised in primary and secondary education: time spent dozing on my desk at work (as a receptionist), time spent in used-book shops, time spent dating (hilariously bad ones), time spent typing up painfully long and philosophical emails to friends, time spent watching all six seasons of The L Word 5 times over, time spent time spent travelling around Southeast Asia and China, and time spent bumming around friends’ houses over summer thinking about how I should spend my time.

It has been a year of epic procrastination. We all do it. But I like to think of my own procrastination as a rather productive act (excuse this horrific oxymoron), in the sense that I thoroughly enjoy the ‘google and peruse’ tab in the webpage of my life. In honour of this season of reflection, I have decided to give you a peek into the thought-cupboard of my brain – this really is what you would see if you were to actually to step inside. For realsies.

Catcher in the Rye

Louise Brooks

Sangria

Tweed

Old VW camper vans

The Mighty Boosh

Barbarella

Mapo Tofu

LDN

Hitchcock

Tito's Handmade Vodka

American naivety

Roseanne

Poutine

Suave and debonaire clothing

Puppies

Gram shoes

Lily Allen

Cupcakes

Jewish rosaries

Jager tube shots

Flight of the Conchords

Rad city chicks

1984 advertising

Thai ice tea

Awesome collaborations

Garbage Pail Kids

Religious art

Corduroy

Dubstep

Adventure

Smut

When Alli and I made our reservations for Toronto several months ago, we realized that food would be a large factor in our plans.  In fact this was our first vacation/trip since becoming “amateur foodies” and we couldn’t pass up the opportunity of eating food that normally wouldn’t be available in Buffalo.

So we went to Toronto on a mission: we would try not to eat anything boring and we would go out of our way to eat as much Asian cuisine from Chinatown as possible.  Everything else was kind of a nice accident; aside from the first restaurant that we ate at, we didn’t really plan too much more and just walked around until we found something that caught our eye.

The day started with our only pre-destined location; something that has sort of turned into a regular visit every time I have gone to  Toronto.  Right next to the Hockey Hall of Fame is a restaurant located in the first floor of a corporate building called Richtree Market.  Richtree is a Toronto based and Canadian exclusive chain that offers a “cafeteria” style atmosphere.  All throughout the restaurant are stations that each have their own theme; you can get a burger or freshly grilled steak or some homemade pasta or try out some Asian cuisine or get some freshly made pancakes.

The food has always been pretty good and the incredible variety of fairly high quality options being prepared freshly while you wait has lead to a slightly over priced but still charming experience.  After surveying all of my options,  I eventually made my way over to the “Far East” section and tried out the Chicken Stir Fry (top picture).  For roughly $12, I tried the spicy Thai Peanut Sauce with chicken, snow peas, baby corn, mushrooms, garlic, broccoli and a bunch of other stuff that was delicious.  Really it was the Peanut Sauce that won Alli and myself over more then anything.  Alli went to the “Grill” station and ordered herself a a nice juicy Burger that was covered in Bacon and Caramelized Onions.  Delish.

Unfortunately, the taps were broken at the bar and I wasn’t able to try any of their microbrews.  In either case, it’s a great place to head post-trip to the Hall of Fame, especially if you’re not sure what you want to eat.

After several hours of shopping, Alli and I tried to figure out what we wanted to eat for dinner.  We settled on a restaurant across the street from our hotel (in all fairness our legs were pretty damn tired, and I needed a beer) and we settled on The 3 Brewers Microbrewery.  After looking over the menu I realized that this was some French chain, with only a handful of locations in North America (all of which are located in Canada).  I ended up getting a pint of whatever their special was for the night and enjoyed it.  Thinking back I believe it was a red amber lager, and it definitely was filling and warmed me up on a particularly cold night.

After visiting Canada since turning 19 several years ago, I have (sadly) never experienced a true order of Poutine.  Yes I understand that this is a Canadian staple (or at least to American’s who love it) but it has never interested me.  The idea was never appetizing; even when Jim’s Steakout added it to their menu a year ago I didn’t budge.  But this time around I figured I would try it out since Alli swears by it was going to order it whether I wanted it or not.  Now I’m not sure if it was my insane hunger or that 3 Brewers made a really good gravy, but it was better then my expectations.  Alli and I destroyed that bowl in minutes and all without forks!

Alli ordered herself the 3 Brewers Beef Stew, which had tender pieces of Beef, Potatoes, and Carrots cooked in their own beer-gravy and presented with some rice and greens.  I ordered their “The Italian” Flamm, which they touted as their “Specialty”.  Their Flamms or “tarte flambee” is a specialty from France which is basically “pizza-like” in its preparation, only recently becoming a popular item for restaurants to serve it resembles a thin crust pizza.  At 3 Brewers their “Italian” had yellow, green and red peppers as well as Italian sausage and mozzarella cheese.  While it wasn’t as “European” as I hoped, the execution was fantastic and I easily ate the entire thing by myself.  There was just enough ingredients on the dish that it wasn’t heavy; you could eat an entire section and get all the flavors of the cheese, peppers, sausage and crust without feeling like you just ate a cake.

The service was pretty lackluster but the wait was actually pretty short and we sat down in less then 10 minutes (which is pretty impressive on a Friday night at 6:30 pm) but our waitress didn’t bring us drinks or forks until we were just finishing our appetizer.  I understand the place was pretty busy but when asking if we could have a fork to eat our food with the response “those are kind of hard to get around here” was not the answer we were expecting.

When arriving back to the hotel we finally realized that we could indeed get free internet (thank god) in our hotel lobby and we went down t to get our facebook/twitter/perezhilton/sabres fix that we so desperately needed after 14 hours of no internet.  As we sat down there we looked at the hotel’s menu and noticed some “Home made Chips with Caramelized Onion Dip” that sounded like a great 11 pm snack.  So we put in an order and I enjoyed a Soparro on tap, which was fantastic.  After realizing that we were sitting next to a semi-popular rock band, we also realized that this dip was fantastic and tasted like a high class, slightly creamier Bison dip.  Such a simple item, yet it was so good that we ordered it again on Saturday night.

Check back tomorrow for Part 2 with our trip to Chinatown and an amazing English Pub.

It’s that time of year again when everyone is running around trying to get everything done before Christmas.  And of course, the holidays come along with a whole lot of eating and partying.  I’ll try to keep up with this blog but when one is out the whole weekend it’s difficult to keep up with every meal!

On Friday night friends and I went to Hub in Yaletown.  Previously it was called Brown’s Social House, but it closed down mid-Nov.  I recognized the waitresses and servers from Brown’s, and the decor hasn’t change very much, but the mood has changed.  Unpretentious and casual,  it gave me a good vibe when I walked in. I was impressed with our server, as we had many people coming in and out during the 4 hours or so (from after work at 4pm to the hockey game) but she maintained her friendly, professional attitude and grabbed extra chairs for our booth when needed.

There are more items to choose from the menu, and many specials as well.  Friday night specials were $2 off martinis and all appies are $6 before 6:00pm (on Mon-Fri).  One of the items on this appy list was the poutine:

It was quite big, proportion-wise.  You can see the bacon bits, pepper jack cheese curds and gravy along with the green onions.  The fresh cut fries were alright, a little too thick cut for me.  It was a lot of potato.

My coworker decided to try the lobster wings (yes, that was the name on the menu, but upon futher clarification they were actually lobster tails)

There were four pieces of fried lobster tail served with a side of butter and lemon.  I thought it was a nice side to munch on, not too expensive, although he did comment that it tasted good but wasn’t much meat.

My friend went for the chocolate cake:

A few of them shared it and said it was fantastic.  The cake looked moist and just the right size- not True Confections huge, and not super tiny.

Last but not least was the apple tart:

The apples were fresh baked and done very well.  Accompanied with brown sugar, vanilla gelato and caramel sauce, this dessert had all of us wanting to share.  I will definitely order my own the next time I come here.

One last comment- the coffee I order was truly bitter and acidic, 3 creams and sugars didn’t help.  Strange because Brown’s used to serve great coffee.  May try again next time just to see if it was an one-off.

Wow, talk about an unexpected intersection of culinary slumming and winter sports!  After one of his late night “senior” hockey games, Mr Crow and cohorts went for their usual drinks and tavern chow and chat.  It was here that Mr met the friend of a friend – a transplanted Canadian – who joined the game that night and (O, Fate!) they got talking about poutine.  Anyone unfamiliar with this topic and my feeling for it needs to do some homework by reading THIS first.

Welllllll, as they say, one thing led to another, and after more back-slapping, beer-swilling and explanation of “poutine” to middleman Rob, it was decided that a homemade poutine party was in order, and that Marc, as the home-country expert, would cook.  Naturally, Mr Crow did the right thing by waking me at 2:00am to tell me about this wildly fortunate turn of events – and he didn’t even have to repeat it 6 hours later when I got up.

Calls were made.  Supplies were garnered.  And to help the gig, Marc got an early Christmas present from his wife, Amy:  a double basket Presto ProFry Deep Fryer.  Look, creating and raising beautiful children together is one thing, but the gift of a deep fryer is a level of love and understanding that few couples could ever hope to achieve.  Can’t you just smell it now?

Double trouble

(Incidentally, the frying was done outside on the patio, because despite one’s abiding love of fries, it’s not something you want to smell wafting up from your couch three weeks later when you plop down to watch the idiot box.)

Of course, real cheese curd was used, not shredded cheese.  Here’s Mr Crow getting handy with the curd chopping.  It’s not often that you can appreciate when your mate cuts the cheese, but there you go…..  And Rob, whose culinary expertise is best realized with cold cereal and milk, does a bang-up job stirring the packaged beef gravy.  Yes, packaged.  This experience was meant to replicate the fry truck experience, and therefore, ingredients and prep followed the humble route.  You don’t see roadside fry slingers rendering and reducing stock, fer chrissake.

How many men look this good when cutting the cheese?

Whisk, Rob, whisk like the wind!

Before the party assembled, Marc hand-cut a huge batch of fries using Russet potatoes.  I cannot offer critique here, and thus defer all tuber matters to Marc, who hails from a small Ontario town and is steeped in poutine heritage.  The man speaks French, folks; it’s not for me to question.  

There's nothing like a poutine grin

They turned out fabulously.  Initially, Marc was concerned that they were coming out too crispy, normally a desirable quality in fries.  But the best poutine manifests as flabby but intact  once the gravy works its magic – and so it was with our group effort batch.  Without reservation, I can say this rivals the best I’ve ever shoveled into my poutine-hole; in fact, I should say it surpasses it, since it was made by people I know and trust to touch my food, whereas normally, poutine from fry wagons are delivered through a tiny window that offers no view to the food prep area, probably for good reason. 

Here are a few close-ups, which – unless you’re the kind of person who claims to like sorghum and ToFurky – should get your heart beating fast.  Or stop it entirely.  Though I can be sated entirely with poutine, I inexplicably also consumed a chili dog and a heaping bowl of chocolate bread pudding.  We swung by Gates Circle Hospital on the way home for some drive-through angioplasty and never felt better.

And I defy any  wanna-be food writer to use “flabby but intact” as a superlative.

Hot gravy melts cheese curd and softens fries - perfect!

Ideal consistency: yielding and still hot

Many argue the best poutine is in Montreal. I do not doubt this, however all the poutine I have tried from Montreal has come up short in comparison to my life changing experience at Elgin Street Diner. I am however still attempting to attend Drummondville’s Poutine festival out in QC and will keep you posted.

The legendary ESD  is well known in Ottawa for its sizeable  menu of deliciousness, 24 hour service and high success rate of hangover treatment. The décor is well cozy and what you’d expect to see when you step into a classic style diner. In the diner you will find a wide array of breakfasts dishes, salads, sandwiches, burgers, platters, mains, POUTINE and shakes. 

Believe me when I say I used to plan my Ottawa trips around going to the Elgin Street Diner. Their house special ESD Poutine changed my life for good. The poutine fries are shoestring style and browned well through. Their gravy is comfortingly rich, savory and delicious, I could drink it straight out of a glass. The St. Albert cheese curds est. 1894 melt and fuse so well with the fries, gravy and all additional toppings available.

ESD offers 8 different styles of poutine as follows:  

My beloved ESD poutine consists of a standard poutine topped with caramelized onions and strips of bacon. It is crucial to note that when I say caramelized onions, I mean onions caramelized for so long they are litreally black, not burnt but caramelized to sh!t. I feel the caramelizing process must include brown sugar, and I’m also quite confident the cooks deglaze the pan with Love. The bacon either comes in strips or chopped up in to bits, a win-win either way every time.

I dodge in and out of  la la land each time the fork hits my mouth. Picture the perfectly browned crispy fries, covered with St. Albert’s curds, swamped in the unicorn sweat infused gravy, covered with the sweetest onions you will ever have topped with bacon ios;2aohf;o6sh0kflkw3;hflkasdl335u5wyq4422222222222222222222222

Sorry!! After recounting that last bit I was so overwhelmed with raging emotions I temporarily lost consciousness. Now I am SO hurting because best case scenario I’m 4ish hours away from eating the ESD poutine. It really gets to me.

The only downfall I’ve experienced with the poutine has been the price. Over the years I have seen it increase from $7.99 to $8.99, and now it’s at $9.99. Come to think of it, I don’t even care. My receipt should read: PRICELESS.

The rest of the items on the menu are also all bang-on. From the omellettes to the clubs (Dagwood) to the burgers you will find something to eat at this diner. Did I mention ESD offers Creamsicle Milkshakes?

THE END.

EAT IT

Nice ta meetcha. My name, as you might have gathered, is Cary Clarke and this, as you might also have gathered, is me introducing myself as the bouncing baby boy (read: caffeine-addled 29-year-old intern) of the programming team here at Folklife. In addition to being new to Folklife, I am also new to Seattle, having moved here only three short, windswept months ago from our sister city to the south — yes, I speak of the lovely, little, delightfully weird burg of Portland, Oregon.

Portlandia

As you may have heard from a bunch of fancy-pants news sources in recent years (when they weren’t busy buzzing about food cart culture), Portland, Oregon is widely regarded as home to one of the most exciting music communities in the country. While that reputation outside of Portland has largely revolved around the presence of a handful of (admittedly great) high-profile bands and musicians like The Decemberists and The Shins, in my seven years in the city I had the pleasure of plumbing the lesser-known depths and mapping the more outre expanses of Portland’s sonic geography in the way only a local can. And though I am excited by the prospect of getting to know Seattle and its sounds, I remain a proudly unreformed booster of Portland music. So expect to hear more from me about the guitar-pickers, laptop experimentalists, string-bowers, emcees and reed-blowers of Stumptown as we turn the pages of our calendars to 2010.

Potato Champion Fry Cart (Best Poutine Any Side of the Mississippi) / (Photo from the Oregonian)

As to how my love affair with Portland music began, I moved there in 2002 out of college to play in a band called At Dusk with two friends from middle school. Coming to know it as a musician and fan, I became steadily more involved and invested in the local arts community and went on to co-found an all-volunteer non-profit organization in 2004 called PDX Pop Now! dedicated to expanding interest and participation in Portland music. Every year since then, PDX Pop Now! has put on a three-day, free, all-ages, multi-genre festival of Portland music (sound familiar?) as well as a companion double-disc compilation album. We also developed an outreach program that carried the banner of youth access to music, putting on educational events and concerts in public schools and at City Hall, as well as leading a successful statewide campaign to revise Oregon Liquor Control Commission rules so as to make more performing arts events open to people under 21.

Jeffrey Jerusalem at PDX Pop Now! 2009 Festival (photo by Ben Johnson)

In the unlikely event that my posts here at Folklife leave you oddly thirsting to know more of my thoughts on Portland music, you can find them on a biweekly basis in the column “Our Town Could Be Your Life” which I have used — hopefully as more of an insistent-enthusiastic-nephew cardboard box than a bully pulpit — since 2007 to champion local musicians.

Fittingly, introductions made, I will leave you now with a song. I haven’t thought it out completely, but this here track’s a strong contender for my favorite of the past decade. It’s by Portland’s (surprise!) circuit-bending, Appalachian noise-folk visionary Brian Mumford, otherwise known as Dragging an Ox through Water (an act I’ve written about a few times before). The song’s called “Aces.” Check it:

You can order Dragging an Ox through Water releases on vinyl and CD through his website.

Dragging an Ox through Water at PDX Pop Now! 2008 (photo by Greg Borenstein)

What a weekend.  Not only did I take advantage of stores with extended hours and ones like Walmart that are now open 24 hours to get the last of my Christmas shopping done, Bunny also had her second office holiday party.  I dropped by The Standard on Friday night to meet some of her co-workers and partake in a few drinks.  After Bunny and I decided some late-night “crispy” poutine was in order so we headed over to Eddy’s in Vanier.

(Full credit goes to Jobthingy for recommending that if I ever go there, I should be sure to order the “crispy” poutine.  And you should do the same.)

As everyone knows, the Olympic Flame passed through Ottawa this weekend.  It made several stops including City Hall, Parliament Hill and various neighborhoods around town.  Bunny wanted to join the 15,000 people on Saturday night who decided to wait in the cold on the Hill to catch a mere glimpse of the Flame as it passed by and maybe taken in a Tom Cochrane song or two.

I had a better idea.

See, I don’t like crowds or people — and it seems the two always go hand in hand — so I found out where the Flame would be on Sunday morning.  Turns out the flame was making its way towards Kanata via Baseline Road, and at 7:30 I could intercept it.

I was lucky enough to see the Calgary flame go through Montreal back in 1988 so I figured why not see this one?  After all, who knows when the next one will be.

Bunny and I got up early on Sunday and made our way down to Baseline. Thanks to some really on-the-ball organizing by the Torch Relay people, the bus dropping off runners stopped right where we were waiting, so we not only got to see one of the runners before his torch was lit, but…

We also got to hold it.

Yup.  That’s me, all bundled up (I assure you I don’t normally look like John Candy in a winter coat ) with one of the runners, holding THE OFFICIAL OLYMPIC TORCH.  (And that’s Bunny looking all anonymous standing on the left)

I was one of the few people who actually had the stones to ask if I could touch it, and not only did he say “yes” but he let me hold the torch for everyone to see.

While I didn’t get all blubbery the way some people do when they recount how thrilling and emotional it was to hold the torch, I was filled  a sense of pride knowing that I was holding a piece of history that very few folks in the general public will ever get to touch.

No sooner than the photo was taken, the Flame came along and the next torch was lit and then on its way.  (It’s actually the Flame that gets passed on, not the torch, contrary to what some people think.) You can get more information about the Torch, including its unique design on its web site.

And what better way to cap off the morning that with a trip downtown to the Elgin Street Diner for a “breakfast of champions” that included eggs, toast, susages and poutine.

Can you feel the Canadian pride?

Ok so thusly isn’t a word.  What are you one of those grammar freaks?  Go fuck ya-self.  I’m in a bit of a sad mood being that I’ve left what I believe to be the greatest province of Canada:  Quebec.  Land of snow, artisanal cheeses, francophone beauties, French bistros, and dare I say Christmas.  The warm feeling of the x-mas season was with me these past couple weeks.  The lights, trees, clothes, and snow lined everything brought the holidays to life.  Here’s one of Chris’s panoramic shots of old Montreal before our show was cancelled due to protestors (damn hippies):

The only thing I can say correctly in French is “Je ne comprend pas” which means, “I don’t understand.”  Who would have thunk(yea) that most of this province does not speak English.  Although it was pretty difficult in the northern parts, the countryside, the mountain towns, where we had to get by with twenty words of French, I think we did pretty well.  “Je voudrais (point to menu), avec frites, sans mustard.”  We also had the help of our two adorable Quebec natives who were adamant about us speaking the language to get by.  How can you say no to these faces?

Our first night, Chris and I decided to jump right into the language and only speak to our waitress in French.  “Ok, no English, no pointing to the menu, we can do this.”  The waitress came over.  “Uhhh…uhhhh…..I’ll have the risotto.”  Alright, alright, it was a pretty shitty fold of the cards, but it was our first night in a long while to get a good meal.  We didn’t wanna screw it up.  Escargots in pastry with a brandy pepper sauce, seafood risotto, and a fine glass of vanilla ice cream garnished with a magical cherry I’ve never seen before.  Chris fell in love with the server, something that would happen often.  There’s something about French Canadian women.  They are captivating.

Another night Manny and I hit a tapas bar.  Beautiful waitress?  Check.  Menu and wait staff entirely French?  Check.  Typical.  Still managed to get a great meal.  You can’t go wrong with small plates.  Spiced ribs, goat cheese & pesto bruschetta, and parmesan fondue… which is not fondue.  Go figure.  By fondue they mean a fried cheese dish consisting of mostly cheddar and a bit of parmigiano.  An unexpected flip of the script, but tasty.

Before arriving in Montreal, I made sure I watched the Anthony Bourdain No Reservations episode on Quebec, so that I wouldn’t miss a hot spot.  In this episode however, he only goes to one place I’d be able to visit: a poutine joint called La Banquise.  I had completely forgotten about this when our two escorts for the evening (more beautiful French-canads) coincidentally brought us there to grab late night poutine.  I flipped out once I realized I was in the place Bourdain went to and that I was sitting in the very seat (or close to) where he sat!  Listen folks, this stuff needs to be shared, because I could only get down about three forkfuls of nastiness before my stomach began screaming at me.  I think poutine might be on my list of things to stay away from, especially after a few beers.

If you know me well, you’ll know I’m not a big dessert buff.  I like light pastries, Italian pastries that aren’t sweet, maybe even bland.  Cakes and heavy stuff aren’t usually up my alley.  I will now make a big exception to that.  Pouding Chômeur.  This is sort of like bread pudding except its only ingredients are clouds, heaven, and happiness.  Just make sure you try some in your lifetime.

On my day off I had the pleasure of spending my day with Kimy, an awesome girl who wanted to show me around Montreal despite the blizzard that was pummeling the city.  For lunch we decided on crêpes.  Homerun.  No description needed.

Looking for shelter from the blizzard, we decided to hit up the Biodome, an indoor zoo where you can TASTE INSECTS!!!  Sadly, the insect exhibit is only open in the summer, so we did not get to munch on crunchy things.  We did get to talk to some birds though.  They weren’t very chatty.

This is a bread grill.  Don’t ask.

I had a great day with Kimy, and for one of the first times in my life I felt a bit of regret in saying goodbye.  Crazy, I know, I may actually have human emotions.  I don’t believe in many things but I do believe in chemistry.  It’s simple science.

In the old port in Montreal I saw a stand where they were serving tire d’érable, frozen maple syrup on a stick.  The smell of the hot maple sold me, but the residue on my teeth means I won’t be a regular customer.

Go to Quebec.  You may taste a decadent dessert that will change your palate.  You may meet a woman who will convince you to settle down, get married, and have babies.  It’s that good.

A recent New Yorker (Nov. 23) article reminded me that I must read anything Calvin Trillin writes, even if it’s ostensibly about a topic I’m not interested in (or don’t think I’m interested in) which, in this case, is: Canadian food, specifically an awful-sounding Canadian dish called poutine (pronounced “poo-TIN” like the Russian leader),  which is, in its most basic form, a highly caloric combo of  french fries, brown gravy and cheese curds (which Trillin aptly described as “Cheddar before the taste is added, that squeak when you bite into them.”)

As always, Trillin’s story is witty and urbane, full of  references to other cultural oddities from Scotland’s passion for haggis to Upper Midwesterners love of lutefisk. There’s also a hilarious mention of the humor of a guy who sounds like the Canadian version of Sasha Baron Cohen (or maybe Jon Stewart) – a satirist named Rick Mercer  whose television series “Talking to Americans” includes stunts like asking Americans ignorance-revealing questions like “What should be done about the Russian invasion of Chechnya and Saskatchewan?” and to sign petitions to stop the Toronto polar-bear hunt and end the Canadian custom of leaving the elderly to die on ice floes. (Note to self: find “Talking to Americans” episodes.)

But Trillin’s story about food is also a story about a country, its culture, and people – which is food writing at its best. And it’s full of tips for the traveler to Montreal on where to eat – not only to find poutine in all its variations and awfulness – but where to find the best smoked-meat sandwich, something akin to pastrami (the Montreal deli Schwartz’s) and hot dog with, take your pick, the top or the bottom of an onion roll ( Wilensky’s). So thank you Mr. Trillin. And perhaps you’d like to next tackle that British national  dish – the chip butty (A sandwich made of french fries and ketchup on buttered white bread.)

Blogging about my strawberry obsession reminded me of another great finding in Canada: Poutine. Poutine originated in Quebec and is now found across Canada. It is basically French Fries topped with fresh cheese curd and brown gravy. It’s very popular at roadside chip stands, and McDonald’s and Burger King even mass produce it for their restaurants in Canada… Walking up to the chip stand {which, by the way, we should have more of in the states} I had no idea what Poutine was nor did I really have any inclination to try it {despite my love for cheese and grease} but we were on vacation … I indulged. Let me tell you, it may look completely repulsive – but it was pretty darn good. The kinda food you would want at 3am after a night of drinking {Shout out to my CofC friend} … Perhaps I should open a Poutine stand in a college town. Maybe I should start by trying to make it. Humm, Project!

Street food exemplifies the very culture we grew up on. That small Chinese restaurant with a full plate of food that will leave you full for hours and only costs $7, or the $4 burger with everything on it is all part of any city’s street food culture. Those who operate these places love the food they make and love serving the people who enjoy it. Grabbing a quick bite has evolved into a true epicurean experience.

How would the street food scene change if there were other businesses that we don’t normally see open at night, stay open late?

99 cent pizza (even though we all know it’s not 99 cents), $2 noodles, a quick steamie hot dog, and poutine are all part of our favorites. What if in the middle of St.-Catherine or in the plateau there was a bakery that closed at 4:00 am? Danishes, croissants, pastries, and who knows, maybe a baguette or loaf of bread can be sold to the late night eaters. After a night of partying, drinking, and hanging out with friends, most of us want a late night snack. Something to satisfy our appetite, but it is much more than that. After “one of those nights” ending it with a quick and enjoyable bite can make a good night into a great one. Sharing a big plate of food, discussing the night’s events is all part of the experience. How many times have we stood on the street and ate our little bowls of food meeting other groups of friends and asking them how their night was? It’s all part of the night.

Street food is more than just food. It is no different than the feelings we get when sitting down for a family dinner. Street food includes the food, the people, the night we had, the weather, the atmosphere, and the experience. Next time you grab a quick bite think of everything that surrounds you, and enjoy it.

Coming soon: Daytime Quick Eats

The jazz festival in Montreal is one of my favourite ways to spend a summer weekend.  I love how the festival takes over the city.  All the main streets close down so you can walk around with a beer in your hand and listen to jazz, funk and soul all night long.  Throw in some poutine and smoked meat and voila!  Best.  Ever.

Kate Langenburg/A&E Groove

Gosh, I can’t believe it’s December 1st already. Where has this year gone to so quickly? In keeping with this theme, I must continue by saying that the weather sucks. It sucks. Constantly being cold makes me want to hibernate in my bedroom with the heat turned way up and ten blankets on top of me. For good or for bad (mostly bad), it also makes me want to eat comfort foods all the time.

Here’s a list of some of my favorite winter comfort foods. You can access the recipes for each by clicking on their links.

5) Mississippi Mud Cheesecake - If you’re a chocolate and nut lover, you will go crazy for this cheesecake. It’s full of delicious ingredients, like pecans, chocolate chips, and marshmallows. Mmm.

4) Apple Crisp - There’s nothing like the taste of those warm baked apples with sugary sweet crumbs on top. I’ve had a craving for this lately — it would probably make a good dessert at your Holiday table this year.

5) Chili – Here’s a nice weight watchers chili recipe. They actually have quite good taste when it comes to psuedo-healthy chili. However, the last time I made mine, I threw some salsa in the crockpot, too.

2) Layered Nacho Dip - There’s nothing I love more than eating tortilla chips with some sort of dip…and lots of cheese.

Good lord is this fattening, but my god, it sure is good.

1) Kelly Fries – There really is no set recipe for this, but it’s easy. Just cook a bag of french fries on an oven tray and then melt cheese and gravy on top. It’s to die for…literally. (There’s probably enough fat and calories in this to give someone a mild heart attack.) This dish originated in Canada, where it is affectionately called “poutine.”

If you decide to make any of these treats, at least try to make it outside a few times for a run or a walk around the neighborhood. (Keyword being “try.”) They could seriously pack on some pounds. Good luck, winter-hating hibernators.

Before I’m shunned by the city of Montreal and the province of Quebec for eating and writing about poutine in Vancouver, I need to premise it by saying nothing beats poutine in Montreal. I had heard people talking of Fritz for a while now, but I had held off going since it seemed like a sacrilegious act. So one night recently, it was about 2am and after an evening of Blackjack with some friends, the decision was unaminous, let’s go for poutine! We obviously were not the only one with the idea as the line-up was out the door and easily 15 people long.

Poutine = Fries, gravy and cheese curds

So with that prelude, Fritz European Fry House does a pretty decent job if you’re looking for the trio of fries, cheese curds and gravy AND you find yourself about 5000 km’s away from the province of Quebec. The fries are fresh, handcut, seasoned and quite good with a nice crunchy exterior.  As for the gravy, it was tasty, but it was a little thicker than what you typically find in Quebec. The cheese itself was  good, but disappointing as it didn’t have the elastic effect you get when the cheese is melted down by the heat of the fries and gravy.

Menu at Fritz

It may not be the birthplace of poutine, but even in Vancouver, you can find yourself  a very good poutine.

718 Davie Street (corner of Granville)
Vancouver, BC
V6Z 1B6
(604) 684-0811

Hours

• Monday – Closed
• Tuesday – 11:30am-2:30am
• Wednesday – 11:30am-2:30am
• Thursday – 11:30am-3:30am
• Friday – 11:30am-4:00am
• Saturday – 12:o0pm-4:00am
• Sunday – 1:00pm-2:30am

Canadians are always trying to one-up Americans. If a Yank orders some fries, a Canuck will dump a shit load of gravy and cheese curds on top just to feel superior. They’ve even decided to celebrate Thanksgiving one month ahead of the US. So while Americans celebrate Thanksgiving today, their neighbors to the north are wondering what took them so long.

On a side note, Ellen Page is Canadian.

I’ve acknowledged the fact I’m shaving on December 1st, and killing my friend.  This has been a rough November, a bad November.  I say this, and Thanksgiving is tomorrow/today, but no matter how great the event will be, it will not redeem this month.  Roasted turkey, gravy smothered stuffing and mashed potatoes.  Cranberry sauce.  I’m the most thankful that the earlier Americans hung out with this land’s natives long enough to endorse this national holiday, before ruthlessly, and almost nonchalantly, murdering, stealing, and raping them.  My mother makes the best green beans, she puts chopped almonds in with them, they’re to die for.  I’d murder a complete stranger (over the Internet somewhere else, with an M1A1 Carbine, ofcourse) just to sit down to a full plate of runny, scrumptious, authentic French-Canadian poutine.

But the only person I’m killing on thanksgiving has been my constant companion all month long: my beard.  It’s been a long and strong No Shave November, and it shows.  I’m scruffy, ruffly, and no doubt fluffy.  And throughout everything grey November threw at me, it stuck around.  Instantly a discussion piece and a noble cause I could stand behind, steadfast and resilient.  500 other men stood beside me, throughout the New England area.

But it must go.  It’s about to get much colder, and whiter, and harder.  The time has come for wooling the windows, stoking the fire, and buckling down your bootstraps.  Writing more, forgetting less.  My radiator clangs and bangs to life, fighting with me against the dreadful winter to come.  I have to buy khaki’s, or chino’s, I’m really not sure.  The leisure and thrill of my bicycle must be sacrificed.  Gloves, not mittens, and thick high-rising boots, my aunt works at Beans, she’s get a crazy discount.

You know November has come when you’re better off than you were September, but nowhere ready for the demon days of December.  Hell, Christmas is going to sneak up on me this year, I just know it, but through career choices I might actually have presents for everybody, which will be a big step up from last year.  Good evening, Potential, and see you tomorrow.  And good job with the beards, guys.

Montreal is a great city for anyone who loves food. You can find it all: fancy cuisine du marché, Venezuelan golfeados, Tamil dosas, Polish Bigos and, if you look hard enough, you’ll even find Japanese restaurants that serve something other than sushi.

But one thing is hard to find. Most of us who’ve lived elsewhere in Quebec agree that Montreal is notorious for third-rate poutine. Many casse-croutes will shamelessly serve up limp fries swimming in lumpy gravy covered with grated pizza cheese. What is this crap? Why is it that some inbred hick operating a fry shack in backwoods Saint-Machin can serve up a proper poutine and you can’t?

“Enough” I say! I’ve stared at too much disgusting soupy potato mush trying to pass off as poutine. Nobody should have to eat this. I’m all for reasonable accommodation of strange cultural practices, but there should be no reasonable accommodation for a bad poutine. People need to be told where to go and who to shun.

The web offers little in the way of help. One poutine rating site uses a democratic approach, but the high votes for this poutine clearly indicate that most voters are either drunk or demented. Another site looks like it hasn’t been updated in years, and some of the reviews are unscientific. This site will be a definitive reference, using rigourous criteria to arrive at the objective truth about Montreal’s poutine.

I, The Poutine Pundit, have selflessly agreed to clog my arteries with this town’s lousy poutine so you don’t have to. I aim to find the rare diamonds in the poutine rough and share them selflessly with all. Stay tuned!

And so it begins again. This is my new blog. It’s a new start !

I will try to be better at blogging. More interesting things.

For example today Jóna and I went out to the post office to finally get my birthday present from my dad. It’s a cd and a USB key with music, a whole bunch of music he’s taken from the vinyls – a few of them I recognized, I used to sit by our turn table and listen to a few tracks over and over again, especially Sunday Bloody Sunday by U2 (way before they started sucking).

Tonight we had the most amazing poutine, which we called Bepoutine. We bought some pepper seasoned oven fries, a lot of Béarnaise sauce and Kotasæla (Icelandic cottage cheese). It was all put together into something closer to a soup than a poutine. But it as greasy, thick, saucy, heavy and fat as it may sound, it was absolutely delicious. Heavy like a brick, but delicious.

But it’s okay, we’ve been eating very good food. Loads of coriander (which I used to dislike).

Also !

Yesterday I had my job interview at Mímir. It went very well. This is the story: Jón Simon, who I know through Kael, is a Brit who teaches Icelandic at this institute (where Erla used to work and where her mother teachers, too). However, for the month of February he’ll be in Luxembourg, so they need a replacement. He told them about me and asked me to go and talk with Sólborg, the woman who could hire me. We did, went there (it’s in Skeifan), and I spoke with Sólborg, had some christmas cookies (here there is christmas milk, christmas malt, christmas beer, even christmas chocolate milk).

So it looks like I will be TEACHING Icelandic to foreigners for all of February, and will get quite well payed for it (roughly it should double my money for the month, get about 120.000kr extra, which is all going into my now quite sizeable savings for the new Canon 7d. I should get it in March ! AND I CAN’T WAIT !! ).

It’s not only a very exciting opportunity but it would be an amazing achievement for me, to be able to say that after just over a year in Iceland, I started teaching Icelandic to foreigners – plus I would be teaching level 3 (of 5). I was just about to take off my clothes and start a bonfire of happiness in the office. Sólborg seemed very pleased and she even hinted at the fact that we probably wouldn’t need me to apply for a (complicated) work permit, because it’s so little.

Also !

I have been working on mastering the Leipzig glossing rules, and so for fun I’ve been glossing a couple of phrases in Alopian, just to give an idea of what the inner workings of the language are. Here is an example:

teikis takevamami suvi

t-eųi-ki-s ta-keva-ma-mi-Ø suv-i

3sg.unag.ina-carry.away/past-transloc-punc 3sg.unag.ina-float-1pl.unag-actnom.unag.trans-dat flow-nom.ina

it carried away [it floats us] current

‘Our boat was carried away by the current’

This phrase shows off what is called “action nominals”, or in simple terms a noun which has all the characteristics of a verb, yet acts as a noun. In the case of the example above, the action nominal is takevamami, which literally means ‘it floats us’, but it is used as a noun (means “our boat”).

So this is it for now. A new blog !

Listen to this song !

Wednesday, October 15th
Woke up the next morning essentially to John screaming, “ROYGBIV, WHY WOULDN’T YOU LET ME SLEEP???” Haha. Probably one of my favorite lines someone has said to me! So funny. Personally I slept soooo well, like a baby! But I guess no dice for James and John. We eat pastries and mofe at a nearby place, and I have no money really, so I’m going to eat the leftovers from IHOP the previous day, which had been in the pretty cold car, but the Nurses guys literally will not let me! I mean, it really did LOOK scary, but I’m quite certain it wouldn’t have made me sick! Because I’m Chinese! C’mon now! John insisted on giving me a half a bagel instead, though. Whatever. Busters.

John trying to sleep in the car after not sleeping the previous day…

We stop by a truck stop and try to get poutine, butttt…………………….. we’re deciding between spaghetti sauce poutine and another kind, because we figure gravy poutine isn’t vegetarian. Turns out spaghetti sauce poutine wasn’t vegetarian here, either. Shoulda known, considering it was a truck stop. Ah, well, Aaron and I eat it anyway. Also eat some ketchup potato chips since it was the guys’ first time eating them, and 3 out of 3 Nurses agree that ketchup potato chips are fucking awesome!

We get to Toronto and I don’t really remember the rest of the trip there because I didn’t write down notes like I did for the other days. Oops. The Drake Hotel is a nice ass venue, like the fucking Doug Fir, kinda. I get a payout this evening, woo!! Eat fries and gravy for dinner next door at some place.

Their friends from Toronto — bunches of them — and some guys from fucking this one band I forget at the moment — oh yeah, Born Ruffians — are there. I run the merch table a bit. Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.

We eat poutine afterwards, and it’s derish. But my diet that entire day consisted of, potatoes, potatoes, and more potatoes!! So horrible!!!

—

Thursday, October 16th

Aaron and I stay with Luke of Born Ruffians that evening and James and John stay with another friend. We have to meet the guys at the van at 8:00am. SOOO EARLLLLY.

Aaron’s cold morning blanket pose.

They have to load their gear and all this junk this morning… James is still rendered sickly dead in the car all the while. Haha.

So, I have the day in Toronto, and they head off to Chicago after we get some coffee. Le Loup guys happen to show up at the same coffee place!

I head over to some coffee shop and do some work and hang out for the morning. Then I start walking around. I plan my day around — having to go to the Greyhound to drop off my backpack, then going to Medieval Times in Toronto! Hail yes! Throw in some mentally destablizing events, and it was a bit of a blur of a day.

The walk to Greyhound and back is mostly unexciting, but on the way to Medieval Times was pretty decent…

This park was amazing. The lawn was like barely ever walked on, I guess, so everything was covered with teeny tiny spider webs which were gleaming in the sunlight since the sun was going down. AMAZING! Seriously, one of the cooles things I’ve seen ever, although I couldn’t document it well with photos.

This is some weird club.

Medieval Times, outside!

Medieval Times hand dryer?!

Medieval Times, inside! It was a bit weird being in Medieval Times all by myself since everyone was with groups of people, but um, whatever.

<img src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_RqrWKVC07xM/Stt3Z9rw0wI/AAAAAAAAVss/Cf-84LodrK8/s512/DSC_0360.JPG"
The yellow knight was the knight on my side of the room, and he was hilarious. His crowd was easily the loudest, but best of all, he had this dopey Keanu Reeves smile going on. LOVE IT!

KING!

Some epic shit, no?

The veggie plate I got for dinner was way better than what the meat eaters got. It had hummus and pita, a corn kabob I think, some potatoes, etc. etc. There were some girls next to me who got it but didn’t know what hummus was! WTF! MMM, craving hummus… the meat eaters got like. Ribs. And chicken wings. Like… zero veggies. It’s kinda ridiculous…

I had to leave the show early, and headed to the Greyhound to catch my late night bus to Montreal!

OTHER TORONTO POST (WRITTEN WHEN IN TORONTO) HERE!

Tuesday, October 14th
The next morning, James‘ phone had the weirdest ring tone and it was like church bells chiming, and I’m like, “Where the hell is there a church in the middle of nowhere?!”

We go to IHOP and get greeted by menus with belly button ham!

Driving through Connecticut and Vermont (?) to Montreal = most beautiful stuff!! Aaron drives while John ends up using my computer, so I sit up front with Aaron and he grills me and asks me a million ridiculous questions about things people do in China and about what celebrities I would choose to be with if I had to choose. Silly questions that I don’t really remember, but it was stuff, like, “Do people in China brush their teeth?” would be not a question that’s out of the question… I say my celebrity of choice would be Brandon Boyd, and he says that maybe in old school era Brandon Boyd woulda been cool, and that’s what I meant, really, but I guess Aaron has a friend now who knows that Brandon Boyd is dating this super young model girl? No idea. He DOES suck nowadays, though.

Anyway, we honk at the Le Loup guys while we’re driving to Canadia cause we pass them, and they don’t seem to notice, which is hilarious because well, there’s not that many freaking tour vans driving from Connecticut to Montreal! We see them at the border, and I’m smuggled across, weeeee!

We arrive to the Montreal venue, Il Motore, late because Google Maps is wrong (which is hilarious, because Xinlei tells me the next day that I should beware of Google Maps in Canada because it’s inaccurate). It’s also hilarious because the Le Loup guys also used Google Maps and did the exact same getting lost moves as we did, EXACTLY!

When we first get to Montreal, we see this speed bump sign, and below it three old people are walking real slowly, so Aaron says that each bump represents an old person. Really funny. (Not that funny in written retrospect.)

As we’re unloading the van in Montreal, I’m helping them hold open doors, and John and Aaron are constantly screaming, “ROYGBIV, HOW DID YOU GET ON TOUR WITH US!” ROYGBIV turned into my new nickname, along with Bel Viv, which I’d hear before, but ROYGBIV was best. Although it turned into ROY at some points, and ROY is a wee bit less exciting, haha.

They got apparently a real yummy veggie meat sandwich but not I, boohoo, because I didn’t get a payout from that venue. Cheapskates!

Everyone sat down during the show, which was a little weird. I got a bit drunk cause more free drink tickets since James was like, dead.

Played the drawing game with Aaron and really embarrassed him cause I guess I was a bit loud during Le Loup’s quieter parts, oops, whatever. There was massive talk of getting poutine afterwards since, well, Montreal = POUTINE! But no dive because everyone’s way tired afterwards. Bummer! We get a super expensive hotel on the way to Toronto, and they wouldn’t let us say we only had two people because there was no back entrance; there was only one entrance that went up through the front desk, and I guess the front desk lady was mean-ish.

It was a tonna money, so I tried to give John $40, but he wouldn’t take it even though he should’ve. So I ended up giving him $30.

Everyone’s happy as crap in this picture, because someone set along this funny rap remix of Nurses’ “Caterpillar Playground” and it was really funny, goofy, and I dunno if I’d call it good, but whatever.

OTHER TORONTO POST (WRITTEN WHEN IN TORONTO) HERE!

Would a pup by any other name be as naughty?!   I have been a regular attendee of the dog park for about 6 months now.  In that time I have come across many dogs, with incredibly varied names.  I’m sure we all have our preferences, but I really enjoy dogs that have human names, like Dave, Tyler and Norman.  I also love food related names, (obviously)!  Like Tim Tam, Tuna, Chili, and Poutine.  Yep!  Those are all real dog names from my local park!

I find many names to be completely annoying however (and god help me if I offend any of my dog-loving friends here)

First and foremost: MARLEY.    I am sorry, but if you have named your dog Marley post 2008 when the Jennifer Aniston movie came out, I really have no respect for you.  I can excuse the name choice after the 2005 book -maybe- but after a blockbuster film, it’s just crazy.  It’s quite possibly the most unoriginal name ever.  I know people love their dogs, and it was a lovely book and movie, but it never fails that anytime you’re at a dog park there is at LEAST 1 dog there with this name, and I have even been at the park when there were 3 Marleys at once.

Oliver: I actually love the name Oliver, and if my dear readers recall, it was my name of choice for little Timmy!  I even had a poll!  But am I ever glad I changed it.  We have at least 3 Olivers at my local park.  That just gets difficult for practical reasons!

Maggie:  Its a good dog name really, its just way, way too common.

According to the Veterinary Pet Insurance Company, here are the top 10 dog names (male and female) for last year:

1 MAX   MOLLY

2 BUDDY  BELLA

3 JAKE  LUCY

4 BAILEY   MAGGIE

5 ROCKY   DAISY

6 CHARLIE   SADIE

7 JACK   CHLOE

8 TOBY      SOPHIE

9 CODY      BAILEY

10 BUSTER   ZOE

11 DUKE      LOLA

12 COOPER   ABBY

13 HARLEY   GINGER

14 RILEY   ROXY

15 BEAR   GRACIE

16 MURPHY     COCO

17 LUCKY     SASHA

18 TUCKER    ANGEL

19 SAM   LILY

20 OLIVER    PRINCESS

I don’t know about you, but in my experience, this list is quite accurate!  In any case, while Tim Tam may be an unconventional name that no one seems to hear or pronounce clearly,  I am still happy with our name choice, and little Timmy seems to enjoy it as well!

]]> http://catherineandalexander.wordpress.com/2009/11/25/montreal-day-3-the-sacred-and-the-secular/ Wed, 25 Nov 2009 03:10:17 +0000 catherineandalexander http://catherineandalexander.wordpress.com/2009/11/25/montreal-day-3-the-sacred-and-the-secular/

By Catherine

Well!  I apologize for the very long gap between posts!  Suffice to say that life has been happening–perhaps I will even blog about it here.  But before I do, onto our third day in Montreal.

Day 3 dawned, or rather rained.  We spent the morning at Olive & Gourmando again, eating yummy brioche and drinking coffee and tea.  Once we were done with that, Alex decided that I had to see the Notre-Dame Basilica.  Luckily, it was just a few very pretty blocks away, and the rain wasn’t too too bad.

One thing we did notice while traversing the streets was the amount of construction going on!  And it wasn’t just a little bit of construction, it was huge gaping holes in the street, entire streets blocked off, etc.  Made me glad not to be driving!  I had to get a photo:

Montreal construction

Entering the Basilica literally took my breath away.  I think I even gasped.  I am not particularly religious, and certainly don’t identify as Catholic, but I can recognize an extraordinary piece of art when I see one.  And the Basilica was just that.  Lots of photos were taken, of course, and then some wishing for a faster lens!

Basilica

Notre-Dame Basilica

Organ in the Basilica

More Basilica

Stained Glass

Basilica

Votives

Prayer

We ended up getting there just as the English language tour was beginning, so we decided to join it.  While it was pretty fascinating, the most memorable part was when the tour guide got into an argument with one of the people on the tour.  I guess they didn’t hear her say she was starting, and showed up a little late and then she had to start over and was all pissed off.  And she let them know it.  Very different than what probably would have happened in the States.

After the Basilica, we decided to hit the Museum of Contemporary Art. I had heard good things about this museum.  Unfortunately, we were pretty unlucky and they didn’t have any visiting exhibits when we were there, so it was rather disappointing.  Probably the most disappointing part of the trip. The outside was pretty cool though:

Museum of Contemporary Art

The fountains in the plaza next to it were also cool, and they light up at night.  Unfortunately, only got photos in the daytime:

Plaza Fountain

Plaza Fountain

When we (I) were done playing with the fountain, we decided it was time to hunt down some poutine for Alex.  For those who don’t know, poutine is a dish native to Montreal that is basically French fries, cheese curds, and gravy.  Definitely not my thing, but Alex had it the first time he was in Montreal and fell in love.  He ended up leading me into a fast food joint and thinks it was the same one he had his first poutine experience at.  Luckily, I was able to get photographic evidence:

Poutine

Alex likes the poutine

OM NOM NOM POUTINE

The rest of the day was spent doing my favorite thing–shopping!  We wandered the streets of Montreal, namely St. Catherine St. (an entirely different experience in the daylight!) and St. Denis.  I somehow found a pair of skinny jeans that doesn’t look half bad on me, and Alex debated a new Tilley hat.  We found this fantastic art store that sold all sorts of supplies and racks and racks of beautiful paper.

Paper

Then we hopped the train to the Plateau again to try to hunt down St. Viateur Bagel, which is legendary for their Montreal bagels.  On the way we found this great tiny little clothing store that sold only clothing designed by local designers.  Oh, was I in heaven!  The guy there was really nice as well, and I put on a little fashion show for him and Alex.  I ended up spending too much money on a dress, but I figure who knows when I’ll get the opportunity to buy a unique piece like that again?

Good thing next stop was bagels, and not too expensive!  The bagels definitely lived up to the hype–they were crispy on the outside and chewy on the inside and just delicious, especially with the classic salmon and cream cheese combination.  Our waiter was pretty awesome as well–he found out that we were from Boston and said, “Bruins, grr!”  It was really cute.  I had to tell him that I was more of a baseball fan than a hockey fan.  I guess it’s true what they say about Canadians and their hockey though, at least for that guy!

Since it was pretty late in the day by the time we had our sandwiches, we ended up heading back to the hotel and skipping dinner that night.  Alex decided to go check out the casino and I stayed in the hotel room and relaxed a bit, as I was feeling a little under the weather.  It ended up being a pretty quiet night.  Oh, and Alex did not win anything.  Ah, well, so much for that down payment on a house that I was hoping he’d come back with!  We did use the bath tub one more time before turning in for the night, but we made it an early night because Alex wanted to get an early start the next morning.

And that was pretty much our trip!  The next morning we had one more breakfast at Olive & Gourmando, buying a couple of brioche to bring home with us (and one to give to my sister) and then checked out of the hotel and made the long trek home. And fun as it was, we were very happy to be home and able to pick up the ferrets from the boarding place.  We missed their fuzzy faces!

So in conclusion, I’d have to say that our honeymoon was quite successful.  We had a lot of fun, did a lot of exploring and walking, and ate a whole bunch of really great food.  I got a lot of good photos and I think seeing a new place helped stimulate my creativity.  I actually have a few more street photos to share, which I think I will make one more blog post about at some point soon.  But for now…that’s all, folks!