Childhood

We've had a series of very chill weekends of late - weekends that have found us lazing on the couch after Saturday's Big Yam AM activity glut has abated, watching TV.  Some grocery shopping, some minor visiting, trips to the hill for sledding, being cozy and insular.

We watched the film Boyhood recently, which is tied with Grand Budapest Hotel for my pick as the most deserving best picture nominee.  My film friend at work, D, claims you can never take into account the project or context for a film in your assessment - he's of the opinion that each film has to be based on what you see in front of you.  I think with Boyhood, it's too difficult to disentangle the scope of the project from what you're seeing - the collapse of time, the rumination on memory, on what makes a life, the creation of something that suggests epic in the mundane banality of childhood giving way to nascent adulthood - they're all invoked and evoked in this film.  I'm not generally a huge Richard Linklater fan, but this is an extraordinary film.  To me, it veered ever-so-slightly into melodrama (more than I would have liked), but the performances are outstanding, and the ability for this shambling series of vignettes to conjure what it means to be a kid, growing up, is incredibly, powerfully, affecting.

The film is called Boyhood, but it is just as much about the growing of all the central characters - the boy, his sister, the mom, the dad.  They all grow and change and morph on screen.  The 12 years encapsulated by the film passing by in a series of discrete non-events - the way lives are lived and remembered.  Patricia Arquette's breakdown when she realizes her son is leaving home really hit home (keep in mind, the Big Yam is my child who is closest to university-age and he's four).  I just really empathized with her state of mind.  I am going to be a WRECK when they leave home.  A wreck!  You spend 20 years of your life growing this kid and then they're supposed to go off and be independent?!  AND FORGET YOU?!?  Nuh-uh.  My heart hurts just to think of it.  Like, how can I hold onto Lindsay's awe at what happens when you crack an egg, forever?

I hope this never leaves me.  Classic Quincess with his little cocked head, observing and thinking, thinking, thinking always.

Lindsay's vocabulary has skyrocketed in recent days.  He says "pancake" and "binky" and holds up his hands when he doesn't know where something is.  He likes to enter a room and say, "Hello!" and is always good for a reaction in the vein of what you saw above.  He can do a version of the "Happy Birthday" song that is pretty recognizable.  He's a treasure.  The Quincess' latest tip has been to get a lot of epic nosebleeds in the night (Must. Remember. To. Turn. On. Humidifier).  They both understand so much!  I will never get over the sight of Quincess, the little homunculus, being a tiny walker, moving from room to room with something in his hand.

He suddenly got a fever on Sunday night and was a lethargic little homunculus hot water bottle.  Sitting dazed on the Dotytron for hours.  I'd been talking to Dr. Rei who is in a measles, anti-vax spiral and I got all freaked out Monday morning and made our caregiver bring the babies back from the drop-in centre.  She said he looked "lonely in the eyes" all day, but he seemed to recover by Tuesday.  No more fever, 78% less eye-lonely.  All good signs.

We met up with some Markham crew and drove up in a bonafide snowstorm to experience our first ever escape room.  Uhhh, those things are hella fun.  Why haven't I spent my whole life doing this?  There was a lot of back and forth and we ended up in the "easiest" room.  Despite being told, repeatedly, not to over-think things, we totally overthought things and got owned.  It was a crushing defeat:

The upside was that I got to take the gang to Phoenix and spent about $40 on 4 dishes of food for me and the Dotytron and expose everyone to my favorite restaurant.

We also celebrated Ehmdo's birthday and I made this ombré cake that was quite delicious, though a touch labour intensive.

It's a dark chocolate cake with a mint buttercream frosting and a mint ganache.  I was worried it would be too minty but it was delicious.  Kind of peppy and fresh and worth the hassle in the end.  I've attached the recipe at the end of this post.  The Baked guys tend to favour a buttercream that's akin to the roux-based buttercream that I use on my classic Hershey's chocolate cake.  I actually think I prefer that cake recipe to this one.  The buttercream quality was indistinguishable from the one the Baked guys use.  I would make this again.

We watched Episode 4 with the Big Yam, with frequent pauses so he could understand and process what he was seeing.  He still calls Obi Wan "the old man" and Han Solo "the pilot" and is weirdly fixated on the death stuff, but he's working that out at the moment and there doesn't seem to be much I can do about it.  I feel like his questions about death are his own personal journey he's undertaking at the moment.

We went mid-week to see the Dotyron play in this school board wide band that mixes teachers and students.  He was playing the bass clarinet.  Guys, having instruments around is FUN.  I can't wait to get a piano!

I ate my weight's worth in the crispy browned cheese on top of my skillet lasagne

I tried my hand at making Jamaican stew oxtail.  It was lacking.  The oxtail was tender, but it wasn't as full-bodied as I would like.  Most of the recipes I encountered had you adding in some kind of all purpose "brown sauce" or "gravy" agent and that's just not my bag.  We served it with mashed squash and brown rice.

A lot of my time has been taken up with a fundraiser I'm organizing - a family dance for a local non-profit that's also kind of a city agency.  It's complicated (the City pays for 1-2 staff positions and the rest are matched by fundraising and government grants).  I'm on the revenue generation committee and I floated the idea for the dance so I'm spearheading the coordination.  Anna and Elsa from Frozen will be in attendance.  The Dotytron will be DJing.  There will be face painting and treats.  It should be a good time!  I hope it's successful.  I sent the poster I put together to a local mom who maintains a mailing list and she kind of shamed me, "Want to put together the same thing for [Big Yam's School]?  He still goes there, you know."  

I was like, B***H, please!  How dare you?  I sat on parent council for about 3 meetings before bailing.  I joined with a very specific purpose, to fundraise to improve the music programming.  Picture the most mind-numbingly circular, redundant, namby-pamby work meeting you've ever had to sit through, and then multiply it by a factor of 50.  That was it.  No decisions, no movement, a lot of talk and opinions.  A lot of older (I'm so ageist, I know), one-and-done, stay at home moms who were freaking tits about weird stuff.  Their financials were a mess.  I couldn't read the sheets at all.  It was a nightmare.  When they decided they didn't want to put money towards what I was interested in, I bailed.  But seriously?  Why do I have to defend how I choose to be philanthropic and give to the community to YOU, SAHM?  I didn't see YOU at any of the meetings?  It was infuriating.  PS, my kid was one of the top fundraisers for his grade at the Walkathon, so SHADDUP!    

It's beyond aggravating.  

Stuff like that is the reason why I don't want to go to any of your "parent socials."  In fact, I brought up that very thing at one of the parent council meetings I attended.  I was like, "um, if I'm going to the trouble of arranging babysitting, I kind of want to hang out with my own friends."  I got some nods of understanding and some people were like, "well, I consider the other parents my friends."  WHICH IS SO REVEALING, NO?!?  If all your friends are parents?  Worst!  I was asking at my book club last month, "Are you supposed to be friends with your kid's friends' parents?" and most of the women there, who are generally about 5-8 years up on me, and have kids who are older than mine, were like, "NO."  Phew!  That just seems exhausting.

Like, if it happens organically, then fine.  But also, people are jack a**es.  Like, mean and small and socially awkward.  It's the worst.  If you go to the playground for drop-off and pick-up, there are full-on cliques happening!  All the people who are kind of "like me" (the vaguely hipster, but weathered, parent) cluster together and don't make an effort to reach out beyond people "like them."  No one talks to the South Asian parents, or the parents who clearly aren't "in the know" and don't work from home, or don't have that weird fantasy work set-up that allows them to do pick up and drop off EVERY DAY and be totally integrated into their kids' lives.  My neighbour (who has become a friend), was saying that she went with her daughter to a schoolmate's birthday party and it was so cliquey and no one was talking to her, because the other parents already knew each other.

People suck.  Like seriously?  Just try to be a nice, normal human being and reach out.  If the person happens to be a recluse introvert who doesn't know how to connect, fine, at least you can say you gave it ye olde college trye.  Excluding people because you're too scared and fragile, as someone in your 30s, to be decent and expose yourself and all you want to stick with what you know, is not a good MO.  And I say this as someone, who is a champion grumbler, who probably needs a "No new friends" t-shirt the most.

Rant over (for now).  I've also been feeling particularly rant-y because of the whole vaccine thing making the rounds.  The Dotytron's cousin, who is a chiropractor (I know, I know), posted this stupid article critiquing vaccines (from a nephrologist, of course).  When I pointed out that none of the sources referenced by the author were peer reviewed, she linked to all the sources and pointed out they were reputable journals (Journal of Pediatrics, etc.)  What she didn't know (because reading comprehension, what?) was that all the peer-reviewed citations were for quotes, that Dr. Kook was REFUTING.

My manager sent me this photo recently and it basically applies to our world, all the time, but especially anti-vax moms in the western world who have no idea how to read, use a computer, do research, be critical.  Like, they're functionally illiterate and IS NO ONE WORRIED ABOUT THAT?!

This photo is my life right now.

I've also been mildly obsessing about the kerfuffle with Kanye at the Grammys.  I am a well-documented Kanye apologist.  I can't help it.  I think hating on 'Ye is hating on someone who is putting themselves out there, all the time, and that people who slag on him just can't read the nuances.  He's sublime.  He is self-aware and oblivious at the same time.  He tries so hard!  He's the person who said on network television that "George Bush doesn't care about black people."  When has Jigga or Beyoncé, with their carefully constructed personas, ever put themselves on the line and opened themselves up to potential ridicule?  Never, because they're robots.  I don't GET the Beygency.  Anyway, never forget:

The fact that anyone would bother caring about how Kanye "disrespected" Beck, or Taylor Swift is so funny to me.  It's the Grammys.  Like, you actually care?  You actually have an opinion on that other than "let's see what people are wearing and hear the performances, okay it's a bunch of people that only basic people care about, k thx bye"?  Like, we're going to talk about how "rude" it is when Kanye interrupted Swifty?  So bizarre.  I'm sorry, I didn't read the etiquette guide for appropriate behaviour at MTV VMAs.  

"No, Kanye" forever.  This is the first time they've seemed not like robots.

“Well first of all, Beck is one of the nicest guys and one of the most respected musicians in the game. So, there’s nothing that I will want to do as a fellow musician to disrespect him in any way,” Kanye said on the air. “And the weird thing is like, and I don’t feel like I have the right to take away from people’s moments, but the reality of it is — and case in point by who came up to me right afterwards — is it’s almost like a chiropractor. You know, you just get a little crook out like, ‘Wow, this crook has been there!’ It’s just a little jolt of truth, right? And then you know, everyone feels better after the fact, or everyone is way more famous after the fact, or everyone sells way more albums after the fact, and then Kanye just goes on being an a**hole to everyone.”

Realness.

Lagerfeld OUT.

Fin.



-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Baked Wintermint Cake
not adapted at all from Baked Celebrations
serves 18-20 people

Classic Chocolate Cake:

3⁄4 cup dark cocoa powder

1 1⁄4 cups hot water

2⁄3 cup sour cream

2 2⁄3 cups flour, plus more for dusting

2 teaspoons baking powder

1 teaspoon baking soda

1⁄2 teaspoon salt

3⁄4 cup unsalted butter, softened

1⁄2 cup unflavored shortening

1 1⁄2 cups sugar

1 cup dark brown sugar, firmly packed

3 large eggs, at room temperature

1 tablespoon vanilla

Peppermint Buttercream:

1 1⁄2 cups sugar

1⁄3 cup all-purpose flour

1 1 ⁄2 cups milk

1⁄3 cup heavy cream

1 1⁄2 cups unsalted butter, soft but cool, cut into small pieces

1 teaspoon peppermint extract

Mint Chocolate Ganache:

6 oz dark chocolate (60–72%), chopped coarsely

1⁄2 cup heavy cream

1⁄2 teaspoon peppermint extract

For the Classic Chocolate Cake, preheat oven to 325° degrees.

- Butter and flour 3 cake pans, line with parchment, and butter the parchment

- Mix cocoa powder, hot water, and sour cream together and set aside to cool.

- Sift flour, baking soda, baking powder, and salt, and set aside.

- Beat butter and shortening together on medium speed until light and fluffy, about 5 minutes.  Add sugars beat until light and fluffy, about 5 more minutes. Add the eggs, 1 at a time, and then vanilla, and beat until incorporated. Then, slowly add the dry mixture and cocoa mixture to the batter, alternating the 2 kinds and ending with dry.

- Divide batter between 3 pans and spread evenly. Bake for 35–40 minutes (rotate the pans halfway through) or until a toothpick comes out clean. Then cool for 20 minutes then invert onto a rack to cool completely.

For the Peppermint Buttercream

-  In a medium heavy-bottomed saucepan, whisk sugar and flour together. Then add milk and cream and cook over medium heat, whisking occasionally, until mixture comes to a boil and has thickened. This will take about 10–15 minutes.

- Transfer mixture to bowl of an electric mixer fitted with the paddle attachment. Beat on high until cool, which will take about 7–9 minutes of mixing. Tip: Speed up the process by pressing bags of frozen berries or frozen corn against the sides and bottom of the mixing bowl.

- Reduce speed to low and add butter. Mix until incorporated.

- Increase to medium-high and beat until frosting is light and fluffy, about 1–2 minutes.

- Add vanilla and peppermint extract and continue mixing until combined. If frosting is too soft, put bowl in refrigerator to chill slightly, then beat again until it is proper consistency. If frosting is too firm, set bowl over a pot of simmering water and beat with a wooden spoon until it is the proper consistency.

For the Mint Chocolate Ganache

- In a small saucepan over medium heat, bring cream just to a boil.  Turn off the heat, add the chocolate.  Let it sit for a few minutes and then whisk together until the ganache is smooth.

eat and pour over bowl of chocolate. Then, let ganache come to room temperature.

To assemble the Wintermint Cake

- place 1 cake layer on a serving platter. Use an offset spatula to spread about 1⁄4 cup of ganache on top only. Let set for 1 minute in refrigerator.  Spread approximately 11⁄4 cups of buttercream on top of ganache.

Repeat with following 2 layers.

Crumb coat cake and refrigerate briefly, for around 15 minutes.

Frost sides and top of cake with remaining buttercream.

Olé!

The Dotytron-Lagerfelds are going on vacation!  Come March Break, we are headed to the Mayan Rivieria with Ehm-Do and Momma D and the Big Yam in tow!  We decided on an all-inclusive vacation.  Can I just say this: researching all-inclusives is one of the most taxing things I've ever done.  It's about a million times harder than researching an à la carte vacation, where you book your hotel, flight, and activities separately.  The variables involved are so frustrating!  Especially when you're dealing with any constraint in any of the variables (different age groups wanting different activities, time of departure, length of stay, budget).  It's insane. 

And then on top of that, you have to deal with the loonies on Trip Advisor when you're cross-referencing your resort options.  Trip Advisor reveals the worst in humanity, in my opinion.  First of all, you have the people there whose MINDS ARE BLOWN because the staff will fold a towel into a swan and scatter a few perfunctory rose petals and who insist on lavishly documenting this phenomena and then POSTING THOSE PHOTOS FOR OTHER PEOPLE TO SEE.  That makes NO SENSE to me!  Are there actually people out there who consider "animal towel folding skills" a useful metric for determining a resort's suitability?  Then there are the people who complain about a hotel being "too humid' or who are really, really desperate for a wide range of non-buffet restaurants, because for some reason, when they're in Mexico, they simply must taste Japanese food as envisioned by an underpaid Mexican hospitality worker?  All I want is grilled fish and tacos.  I also suspect, that the differences between the food at the "Italian," "French," or "Japanese" restaurants is on par with the difference between the pancakes at the International House of Pancakes - that is, purely a question of semantics.  Finally, why do people on Trip Advisor insist on uploading their PERSONAL PHOTOS?  Why do I want to see your snot nosed kid with his arm around the "entertainment" staff like they're best friends (you see "friendly, personable staff", I see "colonialism in action")?  Why do I want to see your new bride posing in front of a non-descript hedge that could be anywhere?  

Anyway, we're booked now and it's out of my hands.  Although apparently Mexican laws have changed and because I had the temerity to not change my name when I got hitched and have a different last name than my son, I might need a signed, notarized letter saying that it's okay for us to be travelling (even though both parents are going)?  

This is the time of year when I have mini-apoplectic rages each time I open the mailbox and come across yet another letter addressed to "Mr. & Mrs. The Dotytron" or "Family Dotytron."  It is ALWAYS the Dotytron's side of the family.  It ALWAYS drives me berserk.  

I might have started a flame war with Momma D.  Hahaha.  She posted this thing from Ben Stein in "reaction" to the White House referring to their Christmas trees as "holiday trees" for the first time ever this year.  Anyway, noted scholar and respected cultural critic (snick) Ben Stein allegedly had this to say:

"My confession:

I am a Jew, and every single one of my ancestors was Jewish.  And it does not bother me  even a little bit when people call those beautiful lit up, bejewelled  trees, Christmas trees.  I don’t feel threatened.  I don’t feel  discriminated against. That’s what they are, Christmas trees.

It doesn’t bother me a bit when people say, ‘Merry Christmas’ to me.  I don’t think they are  slighting me or getting ready to put me in a ghetto.  In fact, I kind  of like it.  It shows that we are all brothers and sisters  celebrating this happy time of year. It doesn’t bother me at all that  there is a manger scene on display at a key intersection near my beach  house in Malibu.  If people want a crèche, it’s just as fine with me as is the Menorah a few hundred yards away.

I don’t like getting pushed around for being a Jew, and I don’t think Christians like getting  pushed around for being Christians.  I think people who believe in  God are sick and tired of getting pushed around, period.  I have no  idea where the concept came from, that America is an explicitly atheist  country.  I can’t find it in the Constitution and I don’t like it  being shoved down my throat.

Or maybe I can put it  another way: where did the idea come from that we should worship  celebrities and we aren’t allowed to worship God ?  I guess that’s a sign that I’m getting old, too.  But  there are a lot of us who are wondering where these celebrities came from  and where the America we knew went to.

In light of the many  jokes we send to one another for a laugh, this is a little  different:  This is not intended to be a joke; it’s not funny, it’s  intended to get you thinking.

Billy Graham’s daughter  was interviewed on the Early Show and Jane Clayson asked her ‘How could  God let something like this happen?’ (regarding Hurricane Katrina)..   Anne Graham gave an extremely profound and insightful response.  She said, ‘I believe God is deeply saddened by this, just as we are, but for  years we’ve been telling God to get out of our schools, to get out of our  government and to get out of our lives.  And being the gentleman He is, I believe He has calmly backed out.  How can we expect God to  give us His blessing and His protection if we demand He leave us  alone?’

In light of recent  events… terrorists attack, school shootings, etc.  I think it started when Madeleine Murray O’Hare (she was murdered, her body found a few years ago) complained she didn’t want prayer in our schools, and we said OK.  Then someone said you better not read the Bible in school.  The Bible says thou shalt not kill; thou shalt not steal,  and love your neighbour as yourself.  And we said OK.

Then Dr. Benjamin Spock  said we shouldn’t spank our children when they misbehave, because their  little personalities would be warped and we might damage their self-esteem  (Dr. Spock’s son committed suicide).  We said an expert should know what he’s talking about.  And we said okay.

Now we’re asking ourselves why our children have no conscience, why they don’t know right from wrong, and why it doesn’t bother them to kill strangers, their classmates, and themselves.

Probably, if we think about it long and hard enough, we can figure it out.  I think it has  a great deal to do with ‘WE REAP WHAT WE SOW.’

Funny how simple it is  for people to trash God and then wonder why the world’s going to  hell.  Funny how we believe what the newspapers say, but question what the Bible says.  Funny how you can send ‘jokes’ through e-mail  and they spread like wildfire, but when you start sending messages  regarding the Lord, people think twice about sharing.  Funny how lewd, crude, vulgar and obscene articles pass freely through cyberspace,  but public discussion of God is suppressed in the school and workplace.

Are you laughing  yet?

Funny how when you  forward this message, you will not send it to many on your address list  because you’re not sure what they believe, or what they will think of you  for sending it. Funny how we can be more worried about what other people think of us than what God thinks of  us.

Pass it on if you think it has merit…

If not, then just discard  it….. no one will know you did.  But, if you discard this thought  process, don’t sit back and complain about what bad shape the world is  in.

My Best Regards,  Honestly and respectfully,

Ben Stein"

So basically I said on Momma D's Facebook, that Ben Stein DOESN'T BELIEVE IN EVOLUTION (he's also pro-life). Therefore, I don't consider him a reliable authority on well...anything. Furthermore, that saying that things like Hurricane Katrina and other atrocities happen because we've ejected god from schools and our lives is disrespectful and illogical. And that the idea that people can only get their moral compass from god (any god) is outright wrong.

This is how I feel when people get all uppity about you saying "Happy Holidays" instead of "Merry Christmas":

The Big Yam is standing in for me.

Like seriously?  Who cares?  GUESS WHAT CHRISTIANS?  YOU'RE NOT UNDER ATTACK.  Relax.  It's so childish to me.  Like white supremacy (as a catch-all description) is changing in the wake of acceptance of the fact that we live in a multicultural society and there is a shift in the power dynamics (arguable, in terms of real power), and of course people get all up in arms because for once they're on the receiving end.  How do you think all those First Nations that we shipped off to residential schools felt?!? Also, it's just so rich that THIS is an issue for Christmas defenders.  Also, there is nothing remotely Christian about Christmas Trees so I feel like the entire Ben Stein essay is based on a faulty premise.  

The above photo cracks me up.  Poor, poor Miss J.  Santa showed up for the party at one of the drop-in centres and that's the Big Yam losing his s**t.  We've gotten grief from Momma D about not taking the Big Yam to have his picture taken with Santa, but the photo above encapsulates our opinions on the matter nicely.  There is no way in hell that I would ever waste precious minutes of my life on what would be a traumatic experience for all involved.  That is why Miss J is both a saint AND worth her weight in gold.  

On Saturday we had the Annual Dotytron Family Christmas party, potluck style in Oakville. Nany made devilled eggs and I single-handedly ate at least 10.  It was a feast for the ages!  There was an unfortunate incident which will forthwith be referred to as "Butter Chicken Gate" but other than that, things went smoothly.  Then Lolly and SMckay came over and this happened:

Yes, that is the limited-time special, Pizza Hut Hot Dog Stuffed Crust pizza (we got Canadian).  We've decided that SMckay is going to do her co-op placement at Pizza Hut just to find out whether they use one giant long hot dog link or whether it's a bunch of cocktail weenies.  Either way, delicious.

Sunday was a lazy, snoozy day.  We had a Hanukkah meal with Dr. Rei and Uncle Hanbo.  They got us Manischewitz which is basically like sour grape syrup.  The meal was braised brisket (I tried a new recipe - Smitten's tangy braised brisket, which I didn't like as much as the brisket bourguignon I made last year), potato & parsnip latkes, and this brussels sprouts & carrot horseradish casserole dealie.  I also made us apple cake with whiskey toffee sauce and ice cream.

The Dotytron is participating in a one-day, government sanctioned strike today.  We thought it'd be so hilarious if he showed up to picket being like, "Stereotypical Strike Guy" - wearing a worn denim jacket, a fisherman's cap, fingerless gloves, and hauling an empty oil drum in the car to burn stuff in, and bringing an old ghetto blaster to play Bruce Springsteen on.  LOL!  Picturing him doing that is so funny!  I feel like it's short film material.

Last night we had the Dotytron's colleague from last year's school and her husband over for dinner.  We had the Chicago deep dish pizza that I had planned on serving on Friday night.  Good save, us!  With an arugala salad to cut the richness:

Then I had to listen to supremely nerdy classical music talk (one of them is a French horn player, the other one is a violinist).  Stuff like: "You try playing a fugue at 14!" or "Like, I feel like he's the closest thing we have to a real, live wizard" (about some conductor I don't know or care about), or "Let's drink all of whatever we have in the house, and listen to Mahler until we pass out!"  It was pretty nerdy and I ducked out early because I felt like my presence was just impeding the classical music dorkfest.  

Finally, here is a bonus video of the Big Yam doing his legit Mandarin into his racist, fake Mandarin (at the 17 second mark):

Fin.

On Treme

Things that burn me:

1) Getting mail addressed to "Mr. and Mrs. I. Dotytron."  I literally SEETHE.  I'm sorry, I don't have a name or identity any more?!  WTF?  The surest way to get me to irrationally dislike whatever missive you've sent me via post is to address it like that.

2) The fact that no one watches Treme.  I've made no bones about the fact that we are die-hard Treme fans in this house.  Really, if The Wire wasn't such a huge thing I wouldn't even care that people pass by Treme.  It's the fact that there are legions of rabid Wire fans and no one knows Treme that gets me.  I think it has a lot to do with the subject matter - studying post-Katrina New Orleans is not as "cool" as studying drug dealers.  The subculture down there isn't as tied into popular culture's fetishization of urban, ghettoized black masculinity.

Here's the thing: it's easy to love The Wire.  The packaging is all set up for you!  And the civics/socio-economic lessons in The Wire, while perhaps ground-breaking at the time, in contrast to the nuance of Treme are incredibly pat.  The observations are nowhere near as keen (case in point: the youth drug-dealers using chess as a metaphor for how they're "pawns" in the towers drug trade is incredibly trite and to me, is sloppy writing).  Treme is even MORE David Simon than The Wire.  Instead of the narrative device of each season exploring a different societal aspect, what you have is incredibly deep, rich, layered characters living their lives in a town that is emblematic of all that is beautiful and deplorable in America.  Because of this, you really get to inhabit the world of Treme, in a much deeper way than you were allowed to in The Wire.  So yeah, it's not "cool" in the same way to be following New Orleans public defense lawyers and bar owners and councillors, chefs, and musicians, but the social commentary is no less incisive for it.  Every time we watch an episode, we turn to each other and say, "I love this show."

So yeah, of course, all the chef-insider business and all the musician insider business is tailor-made for me and the Dotytron and our respective interests, but I defy you to watch the recreation of a second-line tribute to a fallen musician with the sounds of the Rebirth Brass Band swelling in the background and not be moved.    What's not to love about a culture with a second-line?!  A culture with jazz funerals?!  It's a beautiful thing and y'all are missing out big-time.  Don't even get me started on the women of Treme.  Fierce, strong, stalwart, steely.

3) How busy I am right now.

Fin.

G8/G20

before i delve headlong into the inanity, let's have a moment of quiet reflection. our inspiration: my harbord fish'n'chips haddock dinner last night.

ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

okay, let's carry on then, shall we?

my thoughts on the g8/g20 gathering and the resulting protests and media frenzy and looting and chupidness can be basically summed up in the following series of random musings and pithy quips:

- people i want to hear talking about global capitalism: 1) not you 2) economists and economic theorists

- apple products advertising brainwashing > g20 media coverage brainwashing. p.s. 9/11 was an inside job, right?

- as much as i romanticize paris, 1968 - i do blame it for the commodification of protest culture. violence against protesters is totally traded as cultural capital.

principally, i'm just tired of the rhetoric and ideological nature of the discourse. like, COULD IT REALLY HAVE GONE ANY OTHER WAY? of course not! this is the only way that these meetings of global leaders can play out. what's tiresome is how predictable the narrative and roles are. on the one hand you have your protesters - the peaceful and the jacked-up-on-delusions-of-grandeur machismo/garbled anti-capitalist types. on the other hand you have "the state" the face of which are the police. if there HADN'T have been any violence or any s**tshow, would the protesters have been satisfied? i doubt it, because an essential part of the narrative is that there be some kind of police crackdown and resulting media frenzy. would the cops have been satisfied? no, because there has to be a justification for the expenditure of funds. the space is there and people just blindly step into it and act their roles...so banal.

everything is so garbled and messed up. what does it MEAN to be anti-capitalist? what does it MEAN to have people protesting? and protesting WHAT? to me, the seattle riots make more sense, that's the WTO, and we all know those guys are MAD shady. but it's ridiculous to me to be protesting world leaders getting together to talk stuff out. and seriously? you're complaining that there's no binding resolutions that come out of the g8/g20 talks? DO YOU REALLY WANT THERE TO BE?!? have you ever read through UN resolutions? it's MIND-NUMBING!!! guess how effective the UN is?!? guess how NOT bound up by bureaucracy they are?!? crikey. there is nothing that comes out of the g8/g20 meetings that wasn't already in place before or was planned a long time ago. they're only meeting for like, 3 days. let's be realistic here. haven't you ever sat in on a committee meeting at your own workplace? (anarchists: obviously not, which is YET ANOTHER REASON why you're so stupid). how effective are those meetings? holding the world leaders to what's discussed over a 3 day period on issues that affect THE GLOBE is beyond stupid. it's for people who want the coles' notes versions of global events.

you know what the most effective way of making sure that your views are represented? WORKING AT A GRASSROOTS LEVEL TO MAKE SURE THAT LEADERS WHO REPRESENT YOUR VIEWS ARE ELECTED TO BRING THE ISSUES YOU CARE ABOUT TO THE TABLE. that means NOT preaching to the converted but getting your ish together to persuade people who stand on the opposite side of the fence. that's WAY harder than marching along and staging silly, situationist type flashmobs and the like.

what is OXFAM working towards? how are they aligned with labour, native groups, women's groups, etc? in this day and age, can we really subsume all these issues under ONE banner that maintains a tight, cohesive, coherent, critical, and above all INTELLIGENT message? what does protesting in this way actually achieve in this day and age (i've been saying this since 4th year university - watching the quebec riots, thanks cultural studies!!!)

how is it surprising to anyone that cops are racist? guess what? old people are racist! and probably in higher percentages than in cops! accountants are racist! engineers are racist! instead of focusing your energy on the most visible caricature of "the state" your energies would be better applied working in your communities to raise kids who are going to go out into the world, and be whatever they're going to be (doctors, cops, teachers, etc.) and NOT be racist. instead of pointing out the obvious. let's fight racism on a SYSTEMIC level!

the dotytron had a fairly brilliant idea. he was like, all the protesters and groups should band together, sign an affidavit agreeing NOT to protest at all, and then direct the 1 billion spent on security towards a clean water initiative in africa. that's money well spent. because marching in the street is one of the most impotent forms of expressing dissent in a DEMOCRATIC SOCIETY. especially marching in the street like this - when you have like, 50 bazillion different groups who all want different, amorphous things, banding together.

it's just so adbuster-y/culture-jamming-y: the collusion of soft, a-critical minds trading in tired, entrenched ideological positions that have no nuance. it's as predictable and threatening as cream of wheat.

i also think that protesters should be honest with themselves and agree that there's a certain fetishization of these clashes between themselves and the state. violence against protesters is courted to a certain extent, because those stories are then traded as cultural capital. as much as drinking stories or getting high stories or tales from the trading floor. if it had been entirely peaceful there would have been nothing to report, no machine to feed from all ends and it's the WILLINGNESS of people to participate in this narrative that i find the most saddening. such a lack of creativity, vision, context, imagination. don't you SEE?!?

also, how DARE you talk about state oppression IN ONTARIO, CANADA. how dare you?! how DARE you in the privileged north try to align yourselves with people who ACTUALLY experience oppression in iran, china, countless other places as a ROUTINE part of their daily lives. how dare you smash blackberries and then record the smashing with your iphone? how dare you try to make your life more meaningful in the cheapest way imaginable - simultaneously exerting colonial privilege AND trivializing the struggles of people who ACTUALLY have it bad? are you serious?

blargh. so frustrating!


in more pleasant news, tonight for dinner we had zucchini blossom and little baby zucchini pancakes with sour cream and mint.


we also had slow grilled kolbassa served with caramelized onions and sauerkraut in beer on a bun with spicy mustard. my inspiration was from this recipe here, with some minor tweaks. i grilled the kolbassa but caramelized the onions on the stove as i wanted them to get all sweet and sticky and then drained and rinsed the sauerkraut so it wasn't all so briny. i was trying to be carb conscious so i only ate half a bun. ta-da!

fin.

sekkle down, sons

wow. i just gotta say this...people need to calm the f**k down about twitter. mashable and boing boing do not a movement make. there's more people going apes**t about twitter than are actually USING it - it's a matter of the co-creation of the zeitgeist again.

i just gotta say: remember cloud computing?!!!? I DON'T!

i really don't see the use of twitter. it's ANOTHER forum to amplify the inane, self-indulgent, self-aggrandizing, and self-promotional weaknesses for marginally interesting people. i've said it before and i'll say it again: i'm really getting tired with this culture of entitlement, mediocrity, and inanity.

anyway, i gave twitter an honest try. i followed a bunch of people who are THE BORINGEST (richard florida, malcolm gladwell, obama, a fake tina fey) and i really, really, REALLY don't understand the appeal. the problem with the frequency and ease-of-use that twitter enables is that, like the first wave of facebook status updates gestalt, people are under no onus to be funny, creative, or challenge themselves to put something out there that's WORTHY of being put out there. the last thing we need is this global nation of context-disabled, functioning illiterates to further cement their rapid entropic intellectual atrophy with 140 character sound bites. *shudders*

this post from naked capitalism kind of gets at what i find distasteful about twitter (although i like to pride myself that i would never stoop to making a hackneyed reference to orwell or doublespeak *shudders*)

i should be watching the dotytron's sister perform tonight. the dotytron however is STILL going buck and it seemed like poor time management to trek out in the middle of the productive hours of our evening to catch her set, and then leave right after (she was opening for the trews, and as a wise bwong once sagely stated, time is our most precious resources and not to be wasted on impotent, signifying nothing, generic can-con rock.) i've never heard the trews, but i suspect they suck. like, they're rock music for moms. short break for a youtube excavation okay. i was right. F**K. i waste SO MUCH TIME confirming that i'm right about stuff. not only do i waste my valuable productive time, it's like self-flagellation - i willingly subject myself to a physical and aural assault for the sake of covering my butt the next time i have to talk to some n00b who won't concede to pwnage until they've managed to subjugate me under the yoke of empirical methodologies. le sigh.

okay...i'm off to do more stuff.

tonight for dinner we had that fried goat cheese, lentil, bacon, and baby arugala salad with baguette. i have a picture for you but the dotytron has commandeered the camera.

fin.

there but for the grace of robaxacet

i would not have come into work today. i'm so effin' sore! what the hell? what did i do to deserve this?

this has also been a bit of a piggerton day. i stayed in bed way longer than i should have, because i physically couldn't get UP without twinges of pain in my shoulder and neck (i hope it's not meningitis!) the dotytron packed me a robaxacet care package but cautioned me against dosing before eating. i didn't have time to eat breakfast so i had a bacon and egg bagel from the caf (only my 5th ever caf meal, in almost 2 years of working here). then i had pre-existing lunch plans with my friend M at the indian buffet close by. now i have dinner plans at tacos el asador with L and her bf N. it's nice seeing people but i really want to go home and lay the eff down and regain my full range of motion.

i didn't get to watch 'the reader' last night because A was in a chatty mood so we ended up talking most of the night. it was nice. i like him!

in the happy files: i managed to score some discounted thakoon stuff from target while in the states...because the line is old (in target time) i got some sick deals. a skirt for THIRTEEN DOLLARS! a spring coat for TWENTY! what a scoop! apparently alexander mcqueen is doing the next designer line. i love you target! don't ever make the mistake of coming to canada and getting sullied!

in the sad files: my clunky, cheapo winter boots that i bought for sixty bucks like, 5 years ago have sprung a small leak. heartbreaking. luckily, i scored an equally ugly, no-name (i'm NOT spending $150 on sorels, thanks) cheapo pair from sears for $40. sweet! i believe in sacrificing form for function sometimes.

in the happy files: i made the discovery that the chicago architecture foundation offers tours of the lakefront by SEGWAY.



...



has it sunk in yet?!???? BY SEGWAY PEOPLE!!!!! the dotytron and i have a mild obsession (me: mild, dotyron: raging) with segways. it's kind of expensive and you have to wear helmets but in the grand tradition of us taking on outlandish modes of transportation while on foreign soil (the tandem bike in bruges, anyone?!???), i think it'll be worth it for the hilarity alone. my prediction is more time spent taking pictures of each other on the segway than in listening/paying attention to the tour.

dearest readers! i have such a backlog of stories/events/reviews/random musings with which to regale you! and so little time!!!

i'm filling out my oscar ballot right now...i think i'm going to fill out two. one of who i think SHOULD win, and the official one of who is GOING to win. that way i can reconcile my heart and integrity with my more mercenary interests.

tomorrow i'm going to be up bright and early to accompany the dotytron up to markham to await the arrival of my sis and outlaw bro and the kids. they're in town for my grandpa's birthday dinner tomorrow night. i'm going to spend the day there, make dinner, then head back downtown to hit this show: amit @ el mocambo i'm mostly in it for chrisc64's (of C&C friend factory fame) old skool set with the gunnderson. it's going to be boss (if he plays it dancefloor friendly, otherwise known as "tunes that lagerfeld wants to hear" - i represent the dancing desires of the masses).

i'm excited! this weekend is going to be so fun!

in other news...i find some of the food peeps on this messageboard i still stupidly post on to be hella irritating. they're like the kind of people who made canada debase itself for obama yesterday. like, totally swept up into the food zeitgeist like, 10 months (or in some cases, years) too late. and they don't KNOW anything! but they preen like you wouldn't believe! they're almost a-critical. you can almost graph the fall out --> toronto life and/or now post a foaming at the mouth review --> 10 weeks later, they whip themselves into a frenzy discussing how much they want to eat there --> 2 weeks after that, they do, and are A-CRITICAL! they're like the worst kind of upwardly mobile n00bs. gah. i don't know why i go on there (i know why: habit/procrastination)

as an aside: the obama coverage bordered on embarrassing - seriously canada? HE'S NOT YOUR PRESIDENT. HE'S ALSO PRETTY CENTRIST. HIS STIMULATION PACKAGE IS MEH. it's just embarrassing to be canadian and watch them go buck like that, prostrating themselves out of adulation for THEY DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT (because that's how you're supposed to perform when he's around?) it's cringe inducing. i don't know what i prefer more, the rabid 'twilight' fan or the rabid canadian obama fan. i might have to pick the 'twilight' fan. at least they've done their reading (at the very least it can be said that few can match prepubescent girls for their obsessive research skills when it comes to the objects of their hormonal outpouring.)

sorry peeps, i got a little ranty there. i blame the robaxacet. and that i'm super-full but wish i was super-not so that i could suck the marrow out of el asador (who am i kidding? i'll probably go whole hog and then end up filled with regret. and by "filled with regret" i mean: "crawling out of bed to hit the pepto at three am") upcoming posts will include reviews of the YA fiction i've been filling my brain with lately, as well as a dramatic account of my initiation into a ponzi scheme!

fin.

firm but fair

so today i took a carriage ride down indie lane. i mean, i spend a good chunk of time slagging indie, but i haven't listened to much per se. i'm going on my preternatural ability to know what something is about and formulate a startlingly accurate appraisal without checking it out. it's a gift that i have (a gift that tends to drive people who are proponents of whatever i happen to be slagging INSANE.) anyway, i started on this mission by checking out she & him. i'm a bit of a zooey fan (faithful readers will remember that a couple of years ago, i took her on as a style icon) although i find of late that she's just been too twee for me to not find her saccharine girlishness and wide-eyed stare a little off-putting. it's obviously a calculated effort to appear adorably precious and while sometime it does work, there's something disturbing about a grown woman being precocious. it's the same reason why i can't deal with miranda july, even though i quite enjoyed her movie, "you me and everyone we know" and found her book "no one belongs here more than you" equal parts astute observation, mystery, and confounding attempt to be provocative in a contemporary art kind of way.

anyway, i listened to some she & him. her voice, reminiscent of rosemary clooney, has a gimlet clarity and sweetness befitting the 40s and 50s stripped down, MGM tar factory crooning the pair blatantly reference in their material. i give her points for not over singing - overall her vocal delivery is restrained and winning. the actual songs though, aside from their blatant references to a bygone era, are rather unmemorable. my favorite numbers were the covers (i do my research on youtube.) her version of "dream a little dream of me" is a perfect match of material to the voice, but it's not enough of a individualized take to warrant seeking she & him out (the uncanny old fashioned quality of her voice means that she could just be any other piano bar crooner taking a stab at a winsome little ditty.) she also does a version of "you really got a hold on me" and well, we all know how i feel about that song. truth be told, i much prefer smokey's version.

from there i decided that it was about time i listened to death cab for cutie. and then i made a brief stopover in the postal service territory and finally ended up at bloc party. this stuff is THE BORINGEST. basically the anti-thesis of memorable. completely forgettable regurgitations of indeterminate, noodley pop music with some weird, throwaway synth bits. SNOOZEFEST! i gave it a fair shake! you can't say i didn't try. after i finished my experiment (i conducted it at work) i called dr. rei to catch up. after the preliminaries i said, "i've been listening to death cab for cutie and the postal service"
dr. rei (obviously taken aback): "...?"
me: "it's because i wanted to finally know what it was all about"
dr. rei *deafening silence*: "and?"
me: "i hated it"
dr. rei: "phew. for a second there, i thought i might have to reassess everything i know to be true." lol!

last night on our way home, we were listening to this awesome rochester radio station that played all kinds of rock. we finished "interstate love song" by the stone temple pilots and then heard a nirvana tune and then an alice in chains number. when you compare that stuff against the kind of rock music that exists now and what existed just before it - grunge was actually an ORIGINAL musical movement - a repudiation against glossy, overproduced (but still awesome) hair rock and metal. deliberately sludgy, fuzzy, stripped down...it's cool to have experienced that first hand. i can't think what kind of original musical moments exist now and it makes me sad. when you think about the early 90s and all the stuff that was going on musically - the rise of gangster rap, the whole funk and roots flavoured tribe called quest sound, the pop, industrial, electronic music, grunge - it really was an apotheosis of creativity, and arguably the last kind of truly innovative and inspired cultural moment that we've had in a generation.

from there we naturally segued into the "is it just because we're old?" analysis. i can truly say that i don't think that's the case. music for the last little while has been a recapitulation of what has come before (for the most part.) we're in a period of revival, of revisiting material and mashing it all together, but nothing that signals a radical departure. it's kind of sad. i feel sorry for people who love death cab for cutie. i feel like they kind of live a half life of unmemorable material. maybe that's what a culture of entitlement deserves? maybe that's what we get when we make a concerted effort to celebrate mediocrity? lol! i know i kind of sound like a jerk, but seriously, those tunes are the epitome of generic (obviously this is all bracketed by a big, fat, IMO)

look at me - yammering on and i haven't even gone over the weekend yet. i'll post a full review tomorrow. for now, i'm going to treat myself to a hot shower to work out the muscles and some reading and knitting (i think i've gotten my knitting zeal back.)

tonight for dinner i made a chickpea, sweet potato, kale and kolbassa soup. we had it with fred's bread's green olive chipotle bread and butter. i felt a little guilty buying olive bread when i've been doing such a good job of keeping us in artisanal sourdough, but i was away all weekend and didn't have a chance to bang out a loaf. it's not bad, but you can't taste the chipotle at all.

finally, in the last week or two (before the whole chris brown fiasco), miley cyrus got into hot water (again) for taking a picture with her friends that was construed (rightly) to be trading on the slanty-eyed asian racist discourse. notwithstanding that miley cyrus ends up in photo-related drama on a seemingly quarterly schedule, and notwithstanding that from her self-presentation and media depictions she appears to be a spoiled, stupid, mean-girl kind of a slag - is it wrong that i actually kind of find this photo a little funny? the expression on the asian dude's face is kind of classic. the problem is that it's miley doing it and she hasn't really done enough to convince the world at large that she's NOT racist. if it was margaret cho or dave chapelle, or heck, even andy samberg or the cast of 30 rock, i'm sure it would have barely registered on the interw3b radar. unfortunately for miley, between her and her dum-dum papa billy ray, and their hollow-sounding christianity, and her petty feuds with other disney factory moppets, she couldn't pull it off.

fin.

the performance

okay, i feel like i should address the elephant in the chapel. why do i insist on calling it a performance and not a wedding? who do i think i'm fooling, right? i'm not an idiot. i KNOW i'm getting tied to the hitching post. i know that i'm getting married. i'm not 100% sure what being married means to me. i'm a child of divorce, i'm not kidding myself that anything lasts forever (mortality kind of takes care of those delusions, even if i harbored them), but i know that i've built a pretty high-functioning, continually stimulating, laughter-filled partnership with the dotytron. and i know that i want to throw a party and be surrounded by people we adore. and well, throwing our lot in together seems as good a reason as any, right? (and infinitely more palatable than the other reason people gather - new marxist reading circles)

to me, getting married is quite different from having a WEDDING. people say that they're open to you doing whatever you want to do, that it's "your" day, but in my experience (and as has been evidenced repeatedly in the past few months), that's actually a load of bollocks. some people have VERY SPECIFIC ideas of what a "wedding" has been, is, and should be, and look askance at you for bucking "tradition."

never mind that there's no ONE "tradition" that spans all cultures, times, places. never mind that the wedding industry is a relatively new phenomena, that the stuff we associate with "wedding" (the white dress, the white cake, something borrowed, something blue) is stuff of the last 100 years, if that. never mind that there are people who've gotten hitched jumping out of a plane, scuba diving, caving, by elvis impersonator, etc...no no, tell them that you're getting grillz instead of rings and people get a little weirded out.

first of all, i don't kid myself that we're all THAT original. i'm 100% sure that we're not the first couple to forgo the ring and go the grillz route (paging FLO-RIDA and HOTLANTA!) second of all, me wearing a ring is about as unnatural and uncharacteristic as me suddenly deciding to follow the tragically hip on tour or me treating my contributions into the employee pension plan with any emotion OTHER than dizzying glee. i'm sure in the long and storied history of people getting hitched, what we're doing is going to be pretty standard, by comparison.

so instead, in the face of the anticipated (and experienced) reprobation of others, i call it a performance. to prepare people, ease them into the idea that we're not doing the expected. because when you say wedding, people go bananas. sure, it's a small matter of semantics - it doesn't really mean much at the end of the day. but it's a small step, a reappropriation and rearticulation (and well, people who know me know how much i believe in the malleability of language to re-form and conjure our realities) of what we want this to be. it's a performance of "wedding" and it seems like it's a much more accurate description of what we're doing - which isn't going to be the usual thing.

except that it is. because the usual thing is having people that matter to you surround you on a day when you're kind of being stupid in lurve and drunk with happiness at all the joy in one room. because if there IS any one tradition, the most common denominator might be the impetus to eat and drink and dance and laugh and hug and kiss all the people you care about and to have that energy of them surround you in a maelstrom of human connectivity.

i should say that i personally don't care what you do on your wedding day. if you're someone i know and love and you're going full-tilt martha stewart weddings, then i support you! do whatever you want to do! i don't care if it's a vegan spread, if it's dry, if it's just cookies and milk in the parking lot of a didier IGA, if i know you and love you, i'll be happy no matter what and give myself over to the experience, because you know what? i know that 10 years from now no one is even going to have the foggiest memory of the details - of how it went down, what the invites looked like, what food was served, that it rained, that i didn't do the garter toss (KILL ME), that i didn't slow dance once (I'M NOT SLOW DANCING AND YOU CAN'T MAKE ME)...all they're going to remember is that it happened, they were there, and it was fun.

i should also say that some people are TOTALLY on board. nany dotytron is BEYOND pleased (and really, if we're doing it for anyone, it's the grandparentals - even above and beyond doing it for us.) she thinks that whatever we're going to do is the GREATEST EVER! my dress colour, the location, the menu - she's just beaming with excitement and things everything we decide is just peachy.

it's like amy sedaris says...there are certain responsibilities of you as a guest. the chief one being to be happy that you're invited and to accept people's hospitality with grace, good humour, and sincerity.

anyway, enough of that rant. i just thought that i'd clarify why i doggedly insist on calling it a performance piece. that's why.


tonight i put together a mezes spread. roasted garlic and eggplant dip with tahini. warm chickpea salad with lots of lemon, parsley, and sauteed onions and garlic. baked feta with grape tomatoes, chili oil, rosemary and olives, all served up with warmed torn up pita for sandwiching and dipping. the baked feta was a last minute audible - i wanted haloumi, but a downtown toronto-scour on saturday revealed that the ONE thing i wanted, was nowhere to be found, and at one place in kensington, i was informed that they wouldn't have haloumi until MARCH! wtf?!??? i LOVE mezes meals though.

as promised, here's the pic of the caramel cake (aka my new best friend.) i've included the recipe below. it might become my new go-to recipe for golden cake - i loved the texture, crumb, and flavour of the cake alone that much.

i also did my exercises and yoga today...yay!

fin.

--------------------------------------------------

caramel cake
adapted from gourmet magazine, january 2008 (i doubled the recipe and baked it in a 9x13 pan for about an hour)

for the cake:
2 cups plus 2 tablespoons sifted cake flour (not self-rising; sift before measuring) - i actually went to the trouble and did this...i don't usually
1 teaspoon baking powder
3/4 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 stick unsalted butter, softened
1 cup sugar
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
2 large eggs, at room temperature 30 minutes
1 cup well-shaken buttermilk

for caramel glaze:
1 cup heavy cream (i didn't have heavy cream so i used 50% whipping cream, 50% 2 percent milk)
1/2 cup packed light brown sugar
1 tablespoon light corn syrup (i also didn't have corn syrup so i made it up with brown sugar)
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract

equipment: a candy thermometer

- preheat oven to 350°F with rack in middle. butter an 8-inch square cake pan and line with a square of parchment paper, then butter parchment.
- stir together flour, baking powder, baking soda, and salt.
- beat butter and sugar in a large bowl with an electric mixer at medium speed until pale and fluffy, then beat in vanilla. add eggs 1 at a time, beating well after each addition. at low speed, beat in buttermilk until just combined (mixture may look curdled). add flour mixture in 3 batches, mixing until each addition is just incorporated.
- spread batter evenly in cake pan, then rap pan on counter several times to eliminate air bubbles. bake until golden and a wooden pick inserted in center of cake comes out clean, 35 to 40 minutes. cool in pan on a rack 10 minutes, then run a knife around edge of pan. invert onto rack and discard parchment, then cool completely, about 1 hour.
- i didn't bother taking the cake out of the pan because that seems like a colossal pain in the butt, and their method for getting the caramel on just dirties more dishes, a big lagerfeld no-no

make glaze:
- bring cream, brown sugar, corn syrup, and a pinch of salt to a boil in a 1 1/2-quart heavy saucepan over medium heat, stirring until sugar has dissolved. boil until glaze registers 210 to 212°F on thermometer, 12 to 14 minutes, then stir in vanilla.
- this took nowhere near as long as 12-14 minutes...closer to 5 from the time it started boiling
- put rack with cake in a shallow baking pan and pour hot glaze over top of cake, allowing it to run down sides. Cool until glaze is set, about 30 minutes.
ignore these instructions. i took the butt end of a wooden spoon, poked it all over the cake to make holes, and slowly poured the glaze all over the cake, taking time to let it seep in.