They See Me Rollin'

Big tings a gwan - the Great Gazoo learned how to flip himself from front to back today!  Meanwhile, Lindsay up there is too busy being a fatso to bother working on his muscle tone.  We started calling Prof. Gantok Lindsay this past weekend and now it makes me laugh so much I can't stop.  The etymology goes something like this: we call him Lenny, which sometimes gets turned into Lenny the Lighthouse (a character from a story), which then got turned into Lindsay the Lighthouse, and has now been shortened to Lindsay.  I'm semi-jokingly actively campaigning to have a future daughter baby (because I'm the baby craziest of all baby crazies?!) and so the Dotytron is trying to head me off at the pass by telling me that I should just consider Lindsay/Lenny my daughter.

The Big Yam finally cottoned on to the real spirit of Halloween this year and took trick-or-treating very seriously.  At first, he wanted me to come to the doors with him, but about 10 houses in, I was getting the stop-hand at the sidewalk, and a stern, "No Mama, you stay there."  He would have kept going on and on and on, but the rain was killing my horny so I steered us home.  We had the Big Yam sort the candy (with some debate on the classification of Tootsie Rolls - chocolate or candy?), awarded the prize for "best house" (the one that gave out McDonald's coupons for free fries and free apple pies), and then the Dotytron proceeded to raid the bucket as soon as the Big Yam went to bed.

So here's a question for you: have you ever heard of Mike and Ike?

Apparently I'm the only person in Canada who hasn't?  The Dotytron gave me a look of incredulous disgust when I picked up the packet and was like, "Mike and Ike? What's that?" Then, when I said, "I'm not a fan of Aero" and began explaining why, the Dotytron cut me of with an abrupt: "Nobody cares what you think about candy. You're ignorant and you're a blasphemer."  LOL!

Kinda slept on Dia de los Muertos this year - I got my act together enough to make pozole

A hot tip from my RMT has yielded my current favorite croissants - they're baked by Epi Breads and they're huge!!!  Love them.  Not quite as flavorful as Bonjour Brioche's but they're so big!

Hidden beauty of Toronto - Taylor Creek, a tributary of the Don River. This was taken just before we dropped our camera and the Big Yam peed his pants and had to walk back in pee-soaked shoes.  

We had a lovely, lovely weekend.  Friday night posole rojo, Saturday hangs with SMcKay featuring a phallically themed evening of Fancy Franks and watching that new showtime show Masters of Sex, and then Sunday we went for a walk to check out the fall colours through Taylor Creek Park and ended the day with a visit from Dr. Rei and Hanbo and takeout of the best Persian food - kebabs, rice, and salad.  Also, this happened:

I don't usually go for baby message t's - but I couldn't resist this one.  Awww, Lindsay!

This is actually a more tender moment than it appears to be - the Big Yam was giving the Great Gazoo kisses - even though it looks like he's being shut down with a classic,  throwback, "talk to the hand"

The Dotytron was initiated into this Trinidadian restaurant called Mona's Rotis in Scarborough.  2 LEGIT 2 QUIT, guys.  So, so good.  He brought it home for us for takeout tonight (it was a crazy day).  That's a goat roti, a chicken roti, and a double up there.  They obviously make their own hot sauce and their roti shells on site.  The spicing and flavour is spot-on.  We've finally found an alternative to our deep-Etobicoke roti go-to.  That plate up there makes me so, so happy.

We recently watched Star Trek: Into Darkness which gets a big, fat, "meh" from me.  I hate Chris Pine's glassy weirdo eyes and I'm not a Benedict Cumberbatch fan.  The best thing about this movie was discovering that the Dotytron apparently spends a not-insignificant amount of time riffing on the name "Benedict Cumberbatch".  Periodically throughout the movie, I'd hear him say, "Bend them back, you're a b***h" or "Cummerbund, Bake a Batch"  LOL!!!  I can see how he finds it fun.  It's such a weird, fantasy name.  Anyway, I'm not as big a JJ Abrams fan as I am a Joss Whedon fan.  JJ Abrams is a pretty nerdy sci-fi geek guy, but he lacks the insight into the human spirit/condition that Joss Whedon possesses.  Also, I don't find him as funny as Whedon.  Also, he's not as vocal a feminist.  

Way back in June, I read Caitlin Moran's How To Be A Woman for Academic Book Club.  It was part of a feminist-themed double-header with Sheryl Sandberg's Lean In.  This is a collection of essays by Moran, a British writer and radio/television personality, who is known for being a music writer and a self-deprecating, brassy, bold, sexually liberated frank lady.  The essays are kind of memoirish and follow a rough chronological trajectory that traces Moran's growing awareness of herself as a woman and a feminist.  It was quite refreshing and funny in spots, but also fell victim to a particular British-femme self-aware/self-congratulatory bawdiness that I wasn't a fan of.  She's quite likeable, but sometimes gets a little repetitive with her, "I'm just one of you ladies!" familiar self-deprecating tone.  One of the things I appreciated was how she talked about her sexual awakening and how, in the age of ready access to internet pornography made by men for men, the representations of sex are really quite narrow and geared only towards getting (heterosexual) guys off.  She's not anti-porn, but she's anti-hegemonic porn, which I can totally get behind.  Especially as a mother to three sons, it's important to me that I raise respectful, feminist males who are aware that women's sexual pleasure doesn't exist solely to support and in service of their own.  

This book was hugely controversial when it came out - as all articles/books/think pieces that discuss women/motherhood/career/balance seemingly are.  This and the Anne Marie Slaughter piece were grist for the "mommy/career war" mills to the nth degree.  I read it with an open mind and I didn't think it was worthy of the vitriole that was heaped on it.  Sandberg takes pains to attenuate her message - she acknowledges her class/race privilege, she doesn't try to say that her path is the path for everyone, and she's not (overtly) trying to hammer home a capitalist message.  Having said that, yes, Sandberg worked really hard but she doesn't really acknowledge the specific boosts that have given her an edge (like, having Larry Summers be your mentor and champion?).  I think that she has some important tips for women on how to navigate their career and stay in the game - one of the notable ones (for me) is that women tend to insist on being an expert on something and second-guess themselves for positions of authority/management, whereas men are more likely to sell themselves whether they have mastery of a subject or not.  I also liked her advice that you should view your career not as a ladder, but as a jungle gym - it's okay to make choices and moves that aren't linear.  She also stresses that at a certain point, your ability to learn things is more important for a job than having the exact skill set required in the position.  I did find myself guilty of some of the behaviors she points out preclude women from advancing in their careers - I'm such a giant ballbuster in my personal life but for some reason at work, I'm okay with taking on extra tasks without demanding the credit for them - stuff like that.  Also, the book is TINY - like, most of it is endnotes.  I don't think what she's saying is right for everyone.  But if you're criticizing her because she's not doing enough to fix the gender relations that have created the systems that place women in a second tier below men, that's not the project of this work.  She's not trying to dismantle the system, just point out ways in which women can work within it and still get what they want.  All that being said, she is EXTRAORDINARILY privileged (private jets! Larry Summers as your mentor! Headhunted by Mark Zuckerberg! Personal net worth of $1-1.6 billion!) and that's a jarring note underscoring the whole work.

Also, if you take the book at face value, she doesn't have a lot of fun, but I think it's because she knew that if she talked about how "work-life balance" included trips to the Maldives or private islands in Hawaii or having Sir Richard Branson on call as a babysitter it would be hugely problematic for the audience and undermine her "I can has career and so can you!" message.

My sister got me the latest Sarah Dessen book for my birthday.  Reading Sarah Dessen is a bit of a habit now, but one that I'm getting increasingly willing to break.  Her last 4 or so have been really ho-hum and not doing it for me.  It's just more of the same - girl at a crossroads, who learns a little about herself and her family over the course of a summer, with a boy along for the ride.  This one was very formulaic, the characters were non-entities, and it was just all around a snoozer.

Academic Book Club (I should really shorten that to "ABC"!) had me reading Crazy Rich Asians, which is a sudsy, summer read about the exploits of the uber-rich in East Asia.  I think it's supposed to be like a Judith Krantz-type Scruples but with subbing Hong Kong for Beverley Hills.  It follows a few rich Singaporean families and is supposed to be a dishy read.  Here's the thing: if you're going to do a Judith Krantz-type novel, IT BETTER BE AS GOOD AS JUDITH KRANTZ!  Judith Krantz, Jackie Collins and the like are all about doing flashy, Dynasty-style, super-fun beachy reads full of scandalous exploits like: drugs! sex! murder! double-crossing! all while name-dropping the playthings of the richest of the rich (it's a little dated now, since the references are to like, Halston and like, Bill Blass, but you get a sense of the swaggy 80s excessiveness of it all just from those names alone).  First of all, Kwan is not nearly the writer that those other ladies are.  SO. MUCH. EXPOSITION!  And so clumsily written!  The key to good exposition is not making the reader realize that you're doing it.  As opposed to having characters say to each other, "Ai-ya! You know how obsessive we Singaporeans are about food!  Why, we can argue about which hawker stall has the best egg custard tarts for days!"  SHOW ME, DON'T TELL ME.  It was a fun enough and breezy enough read and perfectly suited to the mind-fuzz that accompanied the first few months after the Wonder Twins were born, but I wanted more from it.  What I did enjoy was how he got some of the cultural stuff right - like the snobbery against Mainland Chinese people, and how cheap some of the richest people can be, and how into knock-offs - and hearing about the Hong Kong locations made me nostalgic for my time there.  I want to go back so bad!

The ABC ladies went apeshiz for this collection of short stories but I wasn't feeling it.  You know when you read/see a short story or film that's full of pregnant pauses about the mundane (in this case, stuff like: a couple preparing for a dinner party, a student caught cheating on an essay), and you're like, I know I'm supposed to be getting something Deep And Important from this, but I'm not sure what that is (if anything?)  This was one of those.  At the end of each story I was like, ooookaaaayyy.  If I took the stories at face value, it was like, nothing happened!  So I ended up racking my brain trying to parse the subtext, only to be told by my ABC ladies that I was probably "reading too much into it."  I didn't get it.  The quote on the book cover there likens this collection to Alice Munro and we're reading her next, so I anticipate a lot more head-scratching from me.  I'm a cultural studies/English major, people.  I need my deconstruction!

The 5th Wave is solid dystopian YA.  The backdrop is an alien invasion that wipes out most of earth's inhabitants.  Now, I say that, and you're already rolling your eyes getting bogged down by the set-up and the dystopian-ness of it all.  However, Yancey grounds the narrative through the eyes of teenage female protagonist who isn't as steely or as headcase-y as Katniss Everdeen but kind of more like a regular teenaged girl with some normal teenage girl problems living in an extraordinary time.  I really dug this book.  It was a gripping read and there was a satisfying two-boy love triangle at work and there was enough action an suspense to keep me invested.  I'm excited that this is going to be a trilogy.

Reconstructing Amelia clearly got greenlit based on the success of Gone Girl.  This is like Gone Girl lite.  Kate, a busy lawyer with a few skeletons in the closet tries to find out what actually happened to her daughter Amelia the day she allegedly committed suicide by jumping to her death from the roof of her private school.  The story is "reconstructed" through texts and Facebook status and Kate's investigation and it all unspools in a kind of clunky, amateurish fashion.  The denouement is highly anti-climatic and unbelievable.  Gone Girl does a good job in keeping the reader invested through changing points of view culminating in a surprise reveal, whereas this was just like a slightly modernized Murder, She Wrote episode.

Do not read Tangles if you're not prepared to be thoroughly depressed at how cruel life can be.  Sarah Leavitt's graphic memoir details her mom's diagnosis of early-onset Alzheimer's and the effects of her mom's rapid decline and subsequent death on Leavitt and her family. This is grim, harrowing stuff.  Alzheimer's is a mean, mean disease - one that robs you of all the intimacies that make you yourself.  The simple, sketchy line drawings that illustrate this memoir mimic the scribbly, incomplete, and transitory nature of a person with Alzheimer's and the nature of memory itself.  This was almost unbearably sad and left me up a few nights thinking about how we really need some kind of compassionate termination-of-life options to give dignity to those who are dying (see, I told you: depressing!)  

That just about catches me up!

Fin.

Never Sorry

I went to see Ai Weiwei last weekend with some of the ladies on my street.  We had watched the documentary, Ai Weiwei: Never Sorry a while back and he's the current international darling of the contemporary art world.

To be honest, I wasn't a fan of the documentary - I thought it was weirdly fawning and it certainly didn't make you like Ai Weiwei.  He's a big cheater!  His real wife shows up for like, 2 minutes, or just long enough to basically say that they have a strong relationship (but in a weird way - this is before the revelation that he has a child with another woman comes out, so at the time as the viewer you're like, "well, that's a weird way of putting it, but okay, I guess?") and then you find out that he has a kid with another woman.  Ai Weiwei comes across like a bit of a breakcore child - like, someone who is kind of bratty and childish and ego-driven.  I get what he's doing and that China's government is corrupt, blah blah blah.  From the documentary, I thought the cleverest thing he was doing was "hiding in plain sight" as an artist - like using the tools of social media to effectively make himself so visible that he is beyond the reach of the Chinese authorities.  The film doesn't focus too much on his body of work and so I went into the exhibit not expecting much.

I was floored.  

The work is extraordinary.  It is evocative, accessible, and beautiful.  I get why he's such a successful contemporary artist.  There's nothing esoteric in the work - it's very easy to "read" and what it has to say about history, about the Cultural Revolution, about China, about unity, about nationhood, is incredible.  He has a piece where tonnes and tonnes of twisted rebar pulled from the aftermath of a devastating Shenzhen earthquake (where he alleges shoddy construction is responsible for the deaths of upwards of 5000 school children) was meticulously and laboriously straightened and then turned into an undulating sculpture.  He rescued old wood and uses Chinese techniques of wood joining to produce pieces that are modern, tactile, aesthetically pleasing, and speak to the effects of Mao's cultural revolution.

Moon chests - you can see all the phases of the moon as you walk between them.  One of my favorite pieces in the exhibit.

I loved it.  So maybe he is an enfant terrible (my mum called him "sensationalist") - the point is...he makes good art.  All that being said, you know what the documentary I want to see is?  I want to see something where they take apart the relationship between an artist's "helpers" and the artist.  Like, who REALLY comes up with the ideas?  I get that Ai Weiwei is obviously not going to physically put together all the work, but I have a sneaking suspicion that all the ideas don't come from him.  Like, I think that up and coming artists apprentice under him and probably shape pieces and are willing to forgo their name on the piece in exchange for access to some of Ai's connections.  It has to be that way, it's just not made explicit.  So, I bet you Ai is like, "I want to make something out of this old wood" but does he have a say in what the piece actually looks like in the end?  Do they show him iterations and he's like, "yes, yes, more like that, no, no, go to hell, dear god, no!"?  I'd love to see something that peels back the layers on that - I think it would be fascinating.

On the wall of the gift shop.  Super tacky, AGO!  C'mon!  Also: the gift shop is filled with terrible, Orientalist bullroar.  Not impressed.

After the exhibit the ladies and I went to Kinton Ramen.  It was good.  Not as good as my beloved Sansotei, though (what could be?)  I still have to try Santouka and then I will feel like my Toronto ramen comparative analysis will be complete.

Okay guys, yesterday, halmeoni (Korean grandma) came over and CLEANED MY FLOORS BY HAND. I have never felt happier/more guilty in my life.  She is AMAZING.  She came over and cleaned my kitchen, cleaned the kitchen floors, cleaned our hardwood, washed down our stairs, and went to town on our enclosed porch and everything is sparkling and I don't know what to do with myself!  She was like, "I'm not going to tidy, just dust" and I was like, practically prostrating myself before her, saying, "HALMEONI CAN DO WHATEVER HALMEONI WANTS!"  I don't know how I'm going to repay her.  My neighbour had told me that she likes folding laundry, so I had some baskets of laundry and tentatively suggested when she arrived that she might want to do that.  But halmeoni kind of looked at them sideways and never mentioned it and so I was like, "Halmeoni can do whatever halmeoni wants!"  LOL.  I want to repay her somehow, even though she has explicitly said that if I ever try to give her money she'll stop coming over.  I know she goes to church so maybe I can make a donation to her church?  Help me think of something, people!

I live on the best street.  My neighbour won tickets to a Thomas movie screening and said that her husband would take their daughter, and she'd give the extra set of tickets to the Dotytron and the Big Yam.  I was like, "Are you sure there aren't other Thomas-obsessed people in your life you could give the tickets to?" and she was like, "I think the Big Yam has earned this."  LOL!  Being obsessed with Thomas is his defining characteristic (and Totoro).  So they went to the theatre down town on Saturday morning.  I thought it was just a movie, but OH NO.  THOMAS WAS THERE. SO WAS SIR TOPHAM HAT.  They got crowns and there were all these train tables set up for the kids to play with and it was being filmed by Mattel apparently and they came home with swag bags with the DVD for the movie, a picture book, a train, a crown, and Thomas toothpaste (also: a "Thomas and Friends Yearbook" that was basically a Thomas the Bay Christmas catalog of Thomas gear that I promptly hid in the recycling bin).  It was so mint!  His first movie-going experience really set the bar high.

I took the babies to lunch at my neighbour's house yesterday.  Three of us have overlapping maternity leaves so we're going to try to do a weekly thing.  This week was kind of buckshot.  It has been visits every day so I think I need to dial back the maternity leave socializing.  It's just too hard to stay on top of life stuff if I go out every day.  On Tuesday I went on a 3 hour walk and it broke me.  I try to keep the Great Gazoo off the back of his head, so when I walk, I tend to wear him and push Prof. Gantok in the stroller.  I definitely gave myself some epic shin splints and back spasms after doing the death march.  I'm going to limit myself in the future.

Then, the funnest thing ever - SMckay came over to cut my hair and for a sleepover!  I love friend sleepovers!  I miss having a roomie.  I'm just meant to live with other people.  I like it so much.

Yesterday I kept the Big Yam at home with me.  We went to an indoor trampoline fantasy land that holds toddler-only times.  Ummm...BEST EIGHT DOLLARS OF MY LIFE.  It was amazing.  They have 4 or 5 different areas where the floors and sides are trampolines and the kids go buck.  The only reason I have time to blog today is because I got myself some guaranteed nap time out of it.  It was so cute.  I can't even tell you how much fun the Big Yam had.  It was all I could do not to join him - but to avoid the "popcorn effect" (their words...is that universal trampoline terminology?) they group people on the tramps by size, so only littles are allowed.  Parents and grown-ups have to stand on the walkways between the trampolines.

The babies wearing their Werner Herzog and Frank Zappa onesies.  So scary!  

We have hit a wondrous, wondrous milestone with the Wonder Twins - we have smiles!  And cooing!  Prof. Gantok especially, will happily lie on the back and squawk and air punch and spin his arms like a little spastic automaton after a feed.  The Great Gazoo likes to be held upright and mimics sticking out his tongue when you do it, often followed by a big, gappy, open mouthed smile that totally transforms his face.  Love it.  Love this age!

All three of my kids have killer, resolve-buckling pouts.  The roomie was holding The Great Gazoo one time and he was just lying in her arms, his lower lip protruding and she was like, "WHAT IS THAT FACE?!?"  Haha - if she was his mama there isn't anything he wouldn't get with that pout. Luckily, I'm made of stronger stuff.  She has tofu construction!

This week has been horrible for cooking, but here's what we've been eating, lately:

Breaded, pan-fried cod, homemade tartar sauce, kale salad

A Russian feast, courtesy of a Yummy Market run - perogies, salad Olivier (basically, a mayo-based potato salad with chunks of bologna), pickled herring on buttered rye, pickles, dilled beet salad, and Dotytron's special beer braised sausages with sauerkraut

I made a bourbon peach jam and have been obsessed with it slathered on everything.  I put a vanilla bean in and the bourbon gives the jam full-bodied floral, honeyed notes.  This is a farm breakfast of biscuits, jam, and hard boiled eggs.

Nicoise salad with seared salmon - loaded with vegetables from the CSA

The Big Yam is a big salmon fan, so we eat it alot for our seafood meals - salmon burgers with more tartar sauce

Grilled barbecue rubbed chicken, with my favorite grilled peach, halloumi, and baby arugula salad

This past Tuesday I made soupe au pistou, which is like French minestrone.  A pistou is a lighter take on pesto - pounded basil leaves with olive oil, garlic, and parmesan, but without nuts.  It really elevates the whole soup, which is loaded with vegetables and beans and zucchini.  To go along with it, I made us paninis with mortadella and robiola cheese, apparently a pretty classic combination.  Robiola is a soft cheese made with goat, sheep, and cow's milk.  Like a funky barnyard brie.  Combined with mortadella it is DIVINE.  I couldn't believe how long I've been living without this combination in my life.

When you look back, it appears as though I've been eating healthy, but what's not pictured is the 12 cookies I'm closing each night with.

Fin.

Ups and Downs

Oof, so many ups and downs this weekend - Mother's Day weekend no less.  I was by turns an impatient mom, a guilty mom, a yelly mom, a stressed-out mom, a spoiled mom, and a mom who needed "mothering" from my partner.

That car that we thought we had bought?  Well, we didn't get it.  Through no fault of our own.  We signed the worksheet the dealership provides you with and paid a $1000 deposit to hold the car.  The next working day, we made arrangements to send it to our mechanic.  Our mechanic thought the car was in dece shape, but was like, "Did you know it came with winter tires?" And I had remembered that this was something that we had discussed with the salesperson, but that had fallen by the wayside through the course of negotiations.   Our mechanic was like, "I don't know what kind of deal you've worked out with them, but you should really make sure the car comes with all seasons."  So I emailed the salesperson and said that our mechanic had "concerns" (without elaborating on what those concerns were) and outlined 3 options:

1) We walk away from the deal and our deposit is returned
2) They sell us the car with a slightly lower price, throw in the all seasons, and we take this $2000 extended warranty (keep in mind: the extended warranty is gravy money for the dealership!)
3) They sell us the car with an even more reduced price, we buy our own all seasons, and we take the extended warranty.

The salesperson called me incensed and said that his manager wanted to see our mechanic's mechanical report.  I said that our mechanic was under no obligation to give it to him.  He then said that we had signed a "contract," the mechanical inspection was NOT grounds to renegotiate the price (which he had said in our face to face), and that our choices were that they either keep the deposit, or we take the car and pay the original negotiated price.  I was all flustered, so I said, "There is no way what we signed was a "contract" - can you send it to my lawyer."  And he got all pissy and told me to "talk to your husband" and then call him back.

So I get all nervous that we're actually ON THE HOOK for this stinking vehicle (which was fine, really, but still, now it was about the principle of the matter) and start Googling and then I find the site for OMVIC - the Ontario Motor Vehicle Industry Council.  Their mandate is: "to maintain a fair, safe and informed marketplace by protecting the rights of consumers, enhancing industry professionalism and ensuring fair, honest, and open competition for registered motor vehicle dealers."  They're kind of like a WSIB for registered dealers and do some buyer-beware stuff for people who choose to do private sales.  So, registered dealers pay OMVIC a fee to be listed as a registered dealer and in return agree to maintain a code of ethics and standards.  You can file complaints with them, etc.  So I call them and explain the situation and the person I spoke to is like, "There's no cooling off period for car sales in Ontario.  But if you didn't sign a bill of sale, then you are entitled to your deposit back."

Now I'm REALLY MAD and I'm getting all Silverman on them. Here's the thing: I did my due diligence - how many poor rubes would be suckered into accepting either a loss of $1000 or a car they weren't completely happy with???  LOTS, I bet.  So I call back the salesperson and tell him that I spoke to OMVIC and that now my real issue is the fact that he wilfully misrepresented what we had signed and said it was a contract when it was in no way legally binding and that according to the LAW they had to return our deposit.  And he gets even MORE RUDE and says, "you want to talk about lawyers, we have lawyers here too, you know!" and also, "I told you that the mechanical inspection is not grounds for renegotiation!"  And I was like, "First of all, that's your PREFERENCE (that the mechanical inspection is not grounds for renegotiation)" and also, "that doesn't change the fact that you are in contravention of the legislation and regulations governing the practice and behavior of registered dealers in Ontario" and tore a strip out of him.  I swear, I nearly went into labour I was so blood-boilingly mad.  Now it's about the principle of the matter!  I told him that our options still stand and to give me a response by end of day.  He opted not to renegotiate, so we didn't have the car.

It was a pisser because we thought we were done, but then I realized I didn't WANT to do business with such a shadesball.  On Saturday we drove to this other Honda dealership in Scarborough - it was HUGE!  The buying experience was much nicer - our salesperson was much more transparent, was very calm, no attempt to upsell us, they have a shuttle service if you drop off your car for servicing, a tuck shop, etc.  Unfortunately, we were too far away from the price. But we did come away learning what a proper worksheet is supposed to look like.  No surprises there.  Then we went to a Toyota dealership but the model of the Sienna we saw is basically a hunk of junk - no features.  Then I sent the Dotytron to check out this one model that had just come into a dealership close to us...we came close to making the deal but then they wanted $600 more and I put my foot down just as the Dotytron was about to sign the papers.  It was stressful and I'm sure pregnancy hormones had a lot to do with me balking.  The Big Yam was frustrated with us being in car mode all day and was whining and crying like a mother effer, the guy we had coming over to quote us on a deck was 2 hours late, I was trying to make a decision about a car over the phone with the Dotytron and trying to get dinner on the table and the dinner wasn't working out - it resulted in a lot of yelling and the Dotytron coming home being super-frustrated and angry at all the wasted time.  It was a bad scene.

Then that night I felt so guilty about being so short with the Big Yam that I spent a good hour sobbing in a giant t-shirt on the couch about how "he's gonna hate me!" and what a bad mum I was.  It was rough.  Everyone has those days.  Everyone.  But when you're having one of "those days" as a parent, it's doubly bad because you feel guilty for messing up one of your only free days (a weekend!) with someone who doesn't get why you're stressed out and tense and is feeding off your energy and reacting and wanting attention that you can't give them.  It was bad and I felt like a terrible parent.  I just felt so guilty for wasting a day.

There's nothing you can do though.  You can't quit this job, so you have your fat, pregnant, hormonal, guilt-ridden cry, eat a billion slices of the cheesecake tart pictured above, fall asleep in a weepy mess watching Veronica Mars on DVD, and then dust yourself off and try again the next day.


The next day was much better.

We had eggs benedict for breakfast and then the Dotytron "treated" me with a morning doing what I like best: checking stuff off the to-do list and doing chores - in this case, it was all about satisfying my nesting impulses and getting the Big Yam's big boy room in order (putting up shelves, putting my FLOR carpet tile design together, tidying, etc.)  It's looking pretty hyphy in there!  I kind of want to swap rooms with him.  Our room is pretty nice too, but his room is amazing right now.  We're missing a light fixture, some accessories, and a print or two, but other than that, it's pretty much done.  I'm in love with it.  The color palette and everything is very Scandinavian modern.  It gets beautiful light and is airy and cozy at the same time.  Also,  I just want to take a minute and big up the $20 roller shades I got from Sears (custom cut to order, yo!)  They're slick!  AND ONLY TWENTY DOLLARS.  I can taste the savings!!!

Then we went to T & T and spent way too much on random stuff.  T&T is like our Shopper's Drug Mart or Costco - no matter what, there's no way we get out of there without spending at least $60, when all we went in for was like, some shrimp.  It's impossible.  For the record: Shopper's Drug Mart and Costco are also our Shopper's Drug Mart and Costco.

Then we came home and the Big Yam napped and I napped a bit and we had some down time watching TV and then the Dotytron made me my big Mother's Day dinner.  Basically, for the entire pregnancy, I've been craving fettucine alfredo.  Like mad.  Years ago, the Dotytron bought me one of those hand-crank pasta making machines that I was an ingrate and never used.  So he vowed to make me fettucine alfredo with HOMEMADE pasta for Mother's Day.  It was a running joke all week.  We even have high-end Italian imported tagliatelle that I was trying to push him on but he was insistent.

He and the Big Yam made the pasta dough and kneaded it.  There was an unfortunate incident where a breach in the well of flour resulted in egg on the floor and the Dotytron was a total neurotic stressball the whole time making dinner and was super into setting the timer to make sure the dough was kneaded for exactly 3 minutes, but this was the end result:

!!!!!

It was basically the cutest thing ever.  Most importantly, it tasted delicious, and I believe this will herald a whole new chapter in homemade raviolis and pastas at Casa Dotytron-Lagerfeld.  It was the best Mother's Day, ever.  The Dotytron done mothered me good.

He has requested for Father's Day that he be left alone.  LOL!  I can do that.  His Father's Day is basically going to consist of eating Asian food (dim sum, Congee Queen) and us staying out of his hair for a good chunk of the day.  

I can't believe I forgot to post a photo of this meal above.  I made us braised shortribs in an Asian influenced sauce of beer, garlic, ginger, and rice vinegar.  It was finished with some hoisin and we had it with soft polenta and it was sooooo freakin' good.

I've posted that cheesecake tart recipe below because it is so delicious.  I've been craving something akin to that Jell-O cheesecake mix thing - like what you used to be able to get at old style cafeteria-type restaurants, usually covered in a goopy blueberry sauce.  This was PERFECT.  So tasty.  We've basically eaten a whole tart in 2-slice-each increments in 3 days.

Fin.

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Cheesecake Tart

makes one 9" tart, courtesy of Martha Stewart

Crust:

3 1/2 oz. graham crackers (about 6 - 2.5" x 5" each)

1/3 c. whole blanched almonds

1/4 c. sugar (I might reduce this next time to 2 T)

4 T. unsalted butter, melted

pinch of salt

Filling:

2 8ounce packages of cream cheese

1/2 c. sugar

1/2 c. sour cream

1 large egg

pinch of salt

- preheat oven to 350F

- in a food processor, process almonds, sugar, and graham crackers until finely ground.  Add melted butter and process until moist clumps form.

- press the crust on the bottom and up the sides of a 9" tart pan with a removable bottom.  Set aside to chill in the refrigerator.

- rinse out the food processor bowl and process the cream cheese, sour cream, sugar, and egg until smooth. Pour into crust.

- bake for about 25-35 minutes or until the filling is just set.  Transfer to a rack and cool completely before storing in the fridge.  Unmold from pan before serving.

I served this with a mixed berry compote that I threw together - some berries, a bit of sugar, some lemon juice, cooked together until bubbling and then some raw berries folded in off the heat.

Work hard. Play hard.

(Sometimes).

This weekend was life-affirming in so very many ways.  We got so much done and we got to do so much!  It's mind-blowing.  Sometimes I have anxiety that being a parent means the end of all fun but weekends like this past one make all those reservations disappear into the ether.

Friday night takeout night was a Little India blowout.  Somehow we spent $40?!?  The Dotytron bullied me into it.  We went to Bombay Chowpatty - a DVD rental/street snack emporium.  The food was fantastic - we had their paneer kathi, which is scrambled paneer flecked with chilies, rolled up in a flaky, buttery roti.  Ummm...DELICIOUS.  We also got their samosa chat and one of their Indian "burgers" (potato patty).  Obviously, our little Tamil Tiger Big Yam was loving life.  That kind can handle spice like you wouldn't believe.  His face scrunches up and he complains, "Hot!" but then he just goes back for more.  He ate a tonne of food.  The Dotytron was convinced that the snacks I ordered wasn't enough so he got this beef shank curry which was kind of lame - just TWO pieces of beef shank (1.5" cubes) floating in a flavourless, oil-slicked sauce.  Never doing that again (this was from a different place).  He was still worried that we didn't have enough food so then we got kebabs and naan from the Pakistani place on the corner.  Last week Lolly was trying to convince me that we should sell Lil' Ugmo and trade up (which is actually impossible - to get something bigger than our current house in our 'hood, we'd have to pay around 800gs), but when I can have this Indo-Pakistani feast after a 5 minute walk, why would I?  The alternatives are too grim (e.g. moving to a desolate stretch of the East side that borders on Scarborough).  No thanks!

Especially once you consider that we chased the meal with hangs with the neighbs and all the rugrats outside into the early summer evening.  I love my street and I love my 'hood too much.

Saturday morning I woke up at 5am and was UP.   So I banged off a batch of scones so they'd be warm out of the oven when the rest of my household woke up, threw on some laundry, and went to work planning our back deck.  This job was originally one we were going to postpone, but I don't think I can countenance another summer at Lil' Ugmo without the option of entertaining.  Plus, the idea that we'll have three kids with us this summer and the twerps will be so wee just made me dream of filling up a pool of water for the Big Yam and dozing under the shade of the giant tree back there, with a baby in each arm, on a lounge chair, listening to the sound of ice clink in the Dotytron's gin and tonic.  I like the idea that we can just have a day outside in our own home instead of having to pack everyone up to go to the beach (which is like, 5 minutes away, so I don't really know why I'm complaining) or to the pool (which is 2 minutes away, LOL!)  I just miss having people over for big dinners in the summer.  Plus, it'll be a relatively cheap job, I think?  Anyway, I got all the planning and conceptualizing done and was feeling pretty good about life.

We went to the garden centre and picked out our mulch and flowers for the Dotytron's big backyard revitalization project and by that time our babysitter showed up and the Dotytron and I went to see our afternoon documentary.  We saw VH1's Finding the Funk which is produced by Questlove and Nelson George (a prominent author who writes about black modern musics).  This documentary was okay.  It was kind of a primer and didn't really go into any great depth.  The Dotytron knew most of the stuff already so it was kind of a gloss on the genre, but it doesn't make sense because you would think that if you were into funk enough to want to see a documentary, you would already know all the intro stuff.  I think they didn't have the opportunity to clear the rights to the songs, which was kind of a let down, because you didn't get a chance to hear snippets when they referenced particular tracks and so you were kind of working blind.

We went with our friends B & G and then hung out on a patio with them and then split off and went on a failed test-drive mission.  We ended up doing an aimless walk in Little Italy (it is so so so lovely to do an aimless walk with your beau!  It's a treat I rarely get nowadays) and then went to meet Dr. Rei and Hanbo for dinner at this new restaurant, Bar Isabel.  It's opened by someone I used to work with at Canoe and it's a Spanish-influenced tavern-type place.  The vibe is incredible.  I loved the space - it's all moulded wood panels and hanging blown glass lanterns and a beautiful Mosaic tile floor and archways.  As soon as you step foot through the door it's like you've wandered into some European bar - it feels so different from any restaurant in Toronto right now and very uncontrived and entirely original and welcoming.  We ate like pigs!

A sampling of our starts: devilled eggs with blood sausage, salt cod, and hollandaise; the salumi plate; and the boquerones (little teeny tiny boneless marinated fish fillets) - which came with roasted red pepper and thinly sliced pickled chili and with impeccable chips for eating them with.  The boquerones were one of my favorite dishes of the night.  Love little fishes!  

The cheese plate.

Roasted bone marrow - very simply served with salt and grilled bread.  After eating the bone marrow and snails at Porzia, this simple preparation is still delicious, but is missing a little something.

Larger dishes now - fried chicken and sweet eggplant.  The eggplant was like custard and the chicken was moist beyond belief.  The two elements of the dish didn't really harmonize for me, but both components were delicious in their own right.  Just not sure they should be served together.

Octopus (perfectly cooked - so tender), chorizo, and potatoes.  A classic Spanish dish.  All the parts were expertly prepared.  This dish didn't blow my mind, but it's very much a faithful rendition of a Spanish tapas classic.

Tripe with soft boiled egg.

Their "whole fish" ceviche - in this case, it was sea bream, seasoned impeccably with chunks of avocado and served with a tangle of frizzled scallion (I think).  They also fry the fish skeleton for you so that you can pick at cheek meat if you so desire.  I loved the ceviche but found the price a tad steep and also, I'm not used to eating ceviche without some kind of tortilla chip to go along with it.

Overall, I would go back there in a heartbeat.  All that food, 3 cocktails, and 3 or 4 beers came to $242.00, tax included and we were stuffed.  The service was great, the cocktails list was interesting, and my oenophile friends tell me the wine list is equally nice.  My only small quibble is that for certain dishes, like the tripe or the salumi/cheese plate, the server asked if you wanted bread with it.  A side of 5 slices of bread was $4!!!  To me, the tripe and the cheese plate should either come with bread or not.  Don't try to upsell me on the bread!  Jeez.  Even the Olive Garden includes unlimited bread!

Sunday was another lovely day.  I went and grabbed some fresh croissants from Bonjour Brioche - the best croissants in the city, as far as I'm concerned.  Being able to throw on a pair of grubby pants and go braless to bring home amazing pain au chocolat, almond croissants, and croissants (not to mention a superlative baguette) in under 5 minutes by car is one in yet another million reasons why I will never want to leave my 'hood.  We ate them with eggs scrambled with chunks of nduja and shallots:

Then we spent the morning gardening.  Behold, the fruits of my labour:

We splurged on the cacao shell mulch again this year.  Look at how nice and neat everything looks!  Still so much to come - my alliums, my peony, the poppies, the shasta daisies, my echinacea.  

We worked hard and then the Big Yam and I played in the front with the rugrats from the 'hood and they helped "water" the garden and then one of the neighbours distributed freezies and then the Big Yam barfed on my neighbour's steps when I tried to get him to eat a raw whole grape tomato.  Amazing.  After that, the Big Yam and the Dotytron rested and listened to Count Basie while I went to my happy place and assembled the Ikea dresser I had bought for the Big Yam's room.  We were pretty darned productive, I must say, which means we earned our fun that evening - my friend L hosted us at her place in High Park for a Russian Easter feast: guinea fowl eggs, Polish potato salad, roasted potatoes, roasted leg of lamb with gravy, asparagus, grated beet salad, lentils, and an arugula and baby dandelion greens salad (!!!!!)  We started with cocktails and olives on the porch and then moved to the back patio and sat under the shade of a gorgeous tree.  It was lovely - wine and vodka flowing with beautiful, interesting, talented people.  I made two desserts: a flourless chocolate roll cake and that hazelnut brown butter cake with a chocolate ganache.  The Dotytron always forgets to bring wine unless I ask him to, but I feel like if I'm bringing a component of the meal, that I shouldn't have to bring wine on top of it?  Is that weird?  I dunno...I feel like wine as a host present is the default thing you bring when you can't or don't bring anything else.  

We had Hot Docs tickets that night so our friends S & P took the Big Yam back to their place and looked after him so we could see the documentary.  They rule so hard.  P is the youngest of five kids (all sisters) who all have giant broods of their own and S is super-Polish so they are totally comfortable and experienced looking after kids.  It was so nice of them to do!  

We saw a documentary called, Brothers Hypnotic, about the Hypnotic Brass Ensemble.  Here's a link to their song "War" which was featured in the Hunger Games.  No big deal (BIG DEAL!)  We were hipped to them from this Rub mix a couple of years back.  They are all blood brothers and the sons of this musician who used to play with Sun-Ra.  The stuff is amazing.  It was a really interesting look at the family dynamic and their rise to fame.  Their father was really into black empowerment and they grew up kind of poor in Chicago's south side, in a really unconventional, non-nuclear family arrangement.  Two or three mothers gave birth to like, 23 children or something like that (not all the kids are in the ensemble), and two of the three mothers raised all the kids, in a seemingly non-competitive, loving family.  It's kind of awesome, as a model.  The Dotytron's takeaway of an awesome model is that the father started each kid playing on a brass instrument at age 3 or 4.  The kids were indoctrinated and woke up at 5am for practice, which always started with a long tone (the ability to sustain a single tone, in key).  The dad would give a kid a mouthpiece and say that until they could make a sustained tone with the mouthpiece, they wouldn't be allowed an instrument, and the kids were so driven that they would go and practice all day to earn their instrument.  Totally amazing!

This is the tune that the Rub played in their mix (uhh, sorry about the cover photo for the video):

We came home at midnight, completely wrecked, but full of love and gratitude in our hearts.  To be able to do so much in a weekend and thanks to the amazing help from our family of friends, was beyond nice.

This is what we've been eating the past little while:

A fantastic spring bowl: roasted potatoes, roasted asparagus, fried haloumi chunks, all topped with a poached egg and a squeeze of lemon with a pinch of flaky sea salt.

A GIANT oyster po'boy - cornmeal crusted fried oysters on top of a fried green tomato, shredded lettuce, on a buttered toasted bun, slathered in remoulade.  This sandwich was no joke, 5" tall.

Russian dinner courtesy of stuff the Dotytron picked up from this Russian grocery (where the default cashier language is Russian) called Yummy Market.  That potato salad I'm obsessed with (it comes with peas, chunks of pickle, pieces of cooked carrot, and chunks of bologna!), beet salad, sausages we braised with beer and sauerkraut, and perogies we served with sour cream.

Last night we had a simple dinner of cheese tortellini in a sausage rosé sauce with arugula and grape tomato salad.

Fin.