Sunday, February 13, 2011

To overindulge

The Big Yam is 4 months old as of Friday. I can scarcely believe it. He of the expressive eyebrows, fulsome cheeks, teensy nose, gummy grin, and disregard for physical milestones has been around for 16 life-altering, refocusing weeks. Oh, we do adore him so. It's hard to believe he started as a collection of cells - his consciousness pulled from the great universal unknown, cooked in my belly until he emerged as a complete, total, sentient being. Nature versus nurture indeed (six of one, half dozen of the other).

Thursday night neighbs hangs were absolutely delightful. We stayed until almost midnight - talking about food, music, parenting, home's SO NICE to have neighbours we like! It's truly the best. How lucky are we?

Well, not so lucky that our car won't get broken into. Truth be told, the Dotytron suspects he might have left the Captain unlocked. It's happened on our street before - someone checks car doors and looks for open windows and rummages around looking for cash. The would-be thief must have been sorely disappointed to find that there is nothing in the Captain but a plethora of burned CDs with little mass-market appeal (ranging from Heart and Rush's greatest hits to the more esoteric of the Dotytron's listening pleasures), my beloved emergency preparedness kit, and my equally beloved Jolly Jumper car-seat organizer, which contains a lovingly curated stash of MORE emergency preparedness supplies - these ones baby-centred (spare diapers, outfits, wipes and the like). More than anything, it's intensely irritating that someone in the neighbourhood would DO that and that they're pawing through our stuff and that they think we're dumb enough to keep cash or meth in the glove box of our car. I'm going to write out a note and post it in the window lambasting them. I'm also going to take up a watch on a random, sleepless night. The lack of sleep will be totally worth it to catch the dickface in the act. I don't even want to hand them over to the cops. I just want to unleash a string of expletives on them and scare the s**t out of them by blasting an air horn in their face. I want to be like that landlady from Kung Fu Hustle:

My Facebook post on the subject revealed that it's happened a bunch on our street and elsewhere in Toronto, to a wide range of people, so I'm not getting all urban-scared about it. It's just what happens when you live in the city.

Friday night we dragged the Boobla to our dodgeball game which we WON for a change. It was a bit of a cakewalk, but I think the team needed a win for morale. Then we dragged Master T up to Markham for AYCE sushi with Lolly. Whereupon he had a class A wigout and we turned into THOSE people at the restaurant. He just wasn't happy. There was a lot of pathetic pouting going on. He wasn't being cranky or a fuss - just not buddies with the situation. Our friend L was having his birthday party and there was another dinner/drinks gathering of high school peeps that we had wanted to go to, but we bailed on both because the little Boobla obviously wasn't having it.

Saturday we cleaned house a bit and hung around and then packed up Master T to drop him off at Dr. Rei and Hanbo's place so that we could go see Wayne Shorter at Massey Hall. We picked up rotis and had dinner with them first - I also baked these toffee s'mores cookies, which are INSANELY good:

A chocolate cookie dough that bakes up soft and chewy, studded with toffee baking bits and topped with a gooey, melted marshmallow graham cracker topping. Wickedly intense.

It was so nice of them to babysit for us and for us to have the chance to visit with them for a bit. That's what you call champion best friends. We probably could have asked Momma and Poppa D, but I figured it's always nice to expand the potential pool of people we're comfortable leaving Master T with - that way, in situations like now, when my parents are preoccupied looking after my Kung Kung, there are just more avenues for child care available.

Wayne Shorter was incredible. It was basically jazz nerd mecca. The talk surrounding our seats was all "I have a gig at blah blah blah" and all "I go to Humber/U of T" etc. I don't have the grounding in jazz to really appreciate the intricacies (in fact, earlier that day I had asked the Dotytron, "so, Wayne Shorter plays the trumpet, right?" and basically broke his heart), but it was an incredible sonic experience. Brian Blade, the drummer, is INSANE. Not to mention a hot piece of ace:

See? When we came back from the show, Dr. Rei's mum and dad were there, so we had a chance to visit with them. Apparently Master T was quite taken with Dr. Rei's mum speaking to him in Farsi. We had a really interesting discussion about Facebook and Twitter and social media and peak oil and the food crisis which made us all kind of depressed and resulted in the conclusion that we have to figure out a way to keep the developing world down somehow. So that the growing middle class in the developing world doesn't take all our food and grain and oil. LOL! The funniest thing is truly how we KNOW peak oil has come and gone and yet we still insist on thinking it's a big joke and ignoring the problem. I love those guys so much. All of them! Dr. Rei, Hanbo, Dr. Rei's mum and dad. They're all adorable and warm my heart.

This morning we woke up and had the fat baby pancake with maple syrup poached apples and cranberry maple sausage from the mennonites for breakfast:

Tonight we had a special Valentine's day meal with Lolly over for good measure. I made rack of lamb with a mustard-herb crust, roasted potatoes, creamed spinach, and Indian-spiced cauliflower:

For dessert I made the malted milk ball cake from the Baked cookbook. I was happier with this cake recipe - the malt flavour is built by adding Ovaltine to the cake batter. I pooched up one of the layers by grossly over baking it so what was supposed to be a triple layer cake turned out a more modest double layer extravaganza. I substituted my own milk chocolate buttercream for their frosting recipe, which I don't trust. You can't beat a whipped meringue buttercream for texture and flavour anyway:

This was a weekend of over consumption. Now I'm trying to restrain myself and lose those last 5 pregnancy lbs.


1 comment:

kari said...

could i get the toffee s'more recipe?