Movies & Books

Most of our screen-time has been devoted to slowly and methodically working our way through seasons 1 through 4 of Sons of Anarchy (a project that we started in the beginning of September, to give you an idea of just how limited our screen time is of late).  In between that, we've managed to see the following flicks.

The Cabin in the Woods was a cute, clever little spin on the genre, with the signature Joss Whedon touch and sense of puckish humour which we're obviously big fans of.  It was very wink and a nudge and pop-culture savvy and it wasn't too scary, which are all elements I look for in horror.  It was enjoyably disposable.

This movie was a snooze and a half.  WHAT WERE PEOPLE TALKING ABOUT?  It was sooo snoozy!!!  NOTHING HAPPENS!!!  There are long, meandering conversations that go nowhere, there is little to no character progression, and you don't care a whit about any of them.  Channing Tatum is winning and proves (kinda sorta) that he can carry a serious role, but in all honesty, we were just bored out of our skulls.  I will say that his dancing skills are top notch and some of the dance sequences were entertaining, but the whole thing had that lazy, lackadaisical Steven Soderbergh indie-vibe that didn't seem to really suit the subject matter, or how the film was marketed.  Negative 10 stars.

The Campaign is another flick that gives you precisely what you expect.  We watched it around the time of the US elections, and because of what was happening with Uncle Rico, it hit a little too close to home.  It was funny enough and satirical enough, but I find that Will Farrell movies are so predictable that I'm getting tired of his performance and the performances of all the usual supporting characters.  

I wanted to like Brave, I really did.  But the first Pixar film featuring a female heroine (what took them so long?!?  Ask Joss Whedon what he thinks of that!) was a disappointment.  The story was beyond slight and lacked a lot of emotional resonance.  Nothing really happens and the dialogue and sight gags and general big thoughts on what makes people (or inanimate objects) tick that's usually characteristic of their work was missing.  It seemed like this was strictly for the kids, whereas Pixar's most successful (to me) films say things that resonate with both adults and children alike.  Brave was all about making one point and one point only, and that single-mindedness resulted in a lacklustre finished product.

Laini Taylor's follow up to Daughter of Smoke and Bone, was probably my most anticipated fall literary release.  And boy, does Days of Blood and Starlight deliver.  I know that the majority of my paltry readership doesn't go for YA fantasy, but good lord...was this ever enjoyable and fulfilling and a rollicking good read.  We are instantly swept back into the world that Taylor created and our relationships with the characters deepen in a plot that while not filled with constant motion, still manages to move the trilogy along and keep you invested.  This one was much more about the characters than the first instalment.  The friendship between the lead, Karou and her friend Zuzana is really sweet and readers invested in the series have their emotional ties to story arcs tested and renewed.  I am simply desperate for the third book.  I need to find out what happens!  I'm not sure that this will ever get turned into a film - it should...I think Peter Jackson, if he's ever done with mangling J.R.R. Tolkein's legacy, would be a good fit.  Actually, Guillermo del Toro would be THE BEST at bringing to life this world of other dimensions and chimaera.  I hope somebody is listening!!!

I gave the second book in Libba Bray's Gemma Doyle trilogy a shot.  I finished it, but through force of will.  I think I just might not be into Libba Bray.  I find she likes to bludgeon the reader over the head with period details in her novels (this one is set in Victorian England) and I also find her characters so unlikeable.  Also, there's too much waffling back and forth and the same things get repeated (for instance, a central character is a mousy, poor teenage girl who doesn't stand up for herself when she's getting picked on, and this continues AGAIN AND AGAIN).  I mean, I guess I get it.  That's pretty true to life.  People generally don't have giant revelations that result in 180 turns on their essential character traits...but still.  The books are over-long and Bray leaves such a heavy breadcrumb trail that the reader gets frustrated for the character's obtuseness.  I'm not going to finish the series.  I need a break from her for a while.

Ahhhh, Zadie Smith.  You gorgeous, incredibly gifted liteary phenom, you.  Is it possible for you to publish anything that doesn't instantly become the pet of literary newspapers and the intelligentsia that read them's hearts (that sentence hurts to read, I know).  What do educated, liberal white people love to read about?  Poor people (check).  Poor non-white people (check).  James Joycean stream of consciousness writing styles (check).  People in housing projects (check).  Stories that validate what they think of poor, non-white people who live in housing projects (check).  This is a series of interconnected stories about a group of people who all grew up or live in North West London in the same housing project.  Each section deals with a different character and it's written in a post-modern, Joycean kind of way.  I should note that I loved Smith's first novel (the one that launched her into the hearts of salons everywhere), White Teeth.  This one though, lacked the humour and obvious affection for the characters that White Teeth had.  In this case, I found N.W. to be kind of patronizing.  It seemed to be offering up these people's stories for the benevolent (or otherwise) white gaze.  I didn't like it at all.  

I'm currently reading Jess Walters' Beautiful Ruins and then I'll be following it up with The Mansion of Happiness and Behind the Beautiful Forevers.  I've got my holiday reading cut out for me!

Fin.

Brown paper packages

...tied up with string.

For the few presents we bought this year, because I'm an obsessive freak who likes my presents to be as art-directed as other elements of my life (read: all wrapped in a uniform fashion, simply), I decided to fill my urban-crafter destiny and go with baker's twine (what took me so long?) and brown kraft paper:

Ta-da!  They look pretty hype, don't you think?  The lettering was done with one of the spoils from working at the Public Library oh so many years ago - an office self-inking stamp.  It's the kind with five lines, and a little case of teeny-tiny letters and punctuation that you push into the ridged lines to make whatever message you choose, using a pair of plastic tweezers developed for precisely that purpose.  I've had the stamp for years and years, on the assumption that such a thing was going to come in handy someday, and lo, did it ever.   Is it fussy?  Yes, but LOOK AT HOW HYPE THEY LOOK!  Just look!!!  Ugh...I couldn't even deal with how pretty the packages were.  I could have personalized each one, but since we bought so few, it's easy for me to tell which package belongs to who.

This is my new signature wrapping style.  It's pretty cost-effective too.  I almost invested in a 1000ft roll of commercial brown kraft paper before my friend G hepped me to the fact that Canada Post sells them for $3 a roll.  Perfect!  And the baker's twine, while expensive, comes in a GIANT roll.  Like, epically long.  Long enough that paying $14 for one roll in a delicious aqua is a difficult decision to make when there are so many delicious colours of baker's twine and you can't justify spending another $14 on another roll just so you have variety.

In other news...I don't have much in other news.  I am working at night on my last Christmas craft and then baking off the last of the cookies for gifting and then I am done.  DONE DONE DONE!  And even though we didn't buy many gifts this year, December STILL came and kicked our accounts in the nuts.  Having to pay $400 yesterday for the Captain's misfiring engine was a bit of a pisser, too.

But!  But I am tremendously excited that as of tomorrow afternoon, once I'm finished pigging out at the Annual Hart House Holiday Buffet Lunch (which is the closest I get to eating in the Hogwart's mess hall), I don't have to come in to work for a glorious, glorious SEVENTEEN days (including weekends).  BLISS!!!

I am so excited for this I can't even tell you.  I want to take the Big Yam to the zoo (even though I'm ethically opposed to the zoo, I feel like it's okay for the stuff I think he'd get a kick out of  - like the giant snakes and things) and to sleep in and eat lazy breakfasts and drop him off at daycare so we can watch an afternoon Oscar contender movie and see friends and hopefully meet R & R's new baby and spend QT with our respective families and eat lots of good food and see Ping and Montréal I and and and...!

Tonight for dinner we had leftover brisket paninis with horseradish mayonnaise and cheddar cheese.  Alongside leftover brussels sprouts & carrot casserole.  So yum!  I was looking forward to this alllll day:

Here are some photos of Daughter of Smoke & Bone author Laini Taylor's house in Portland:

I love it!  She's pretty "Portland"-y.  Her daughter is named Clementine and she has fluorescent pink hair. Like me, she can't resist a Shiny Brite ornament. Her home is filled with all manner of quirky cute knickknacks and tchotchkes which are set off beautifully with by the stark white walls.  Looking at how all her collections can pop against that white background is making me regret (slightly) painting the grape wall in the Lil' Ugmo.  White really does allow things to pop!  But I do love the calming effect of the purple in Lil' Ugmo...so it will stay as-is (it better! After what we paid the painter!)  I don't know that an all-white space is for me, but I do appreciate it, especially when people do it up as Liani does and use it as a backdrop for crazy, colorful and bright.  I'm not a fan of stark, minimalist, white and wood Swedish style interiors.  They're calming, but have no personality, to me.

Tomorrow I will hopefully have time to unleash a slew of pop culture reviews on you.

A demain.

Fin.

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.

Complicit

I sat at my desk on Friday and wiped away tears and tried (unsuccessfully) to keep snot at bay as the stories from Newtown started to colonize my social media spaces.  It was really hard then, and is really hard now, to not feel overcome thinking about how scared and frightened those little tykes were and the school teachers and administrators and the people in the town.  Exhortations to hug your kids and loved ones ran rampant, and even I, staunch resister of all clichés that I am, came home and revelled in the fact that the Big Yam was there and safe and happy and unwilling to be hugged because he wanted to look at pictures of the moon on the iPad.  Even the antidote memes that have floated around in the wake of Newtown (like this one about 26 Moments That Restored Our Faith in Humanity This Year, or photos of the first same-sex marriages performed in Washington state), have made me cry.

You have to believe that humanity is good.  At the end of the day, I do (although reading the Huffington Post crime section challenges this belief).  I think the coverage of these events and the rapaciousness of the 24-hour news cycle is disgusting and an enabler of this type of sociopathic behaviour, and yet, I couldn't stay away from the New York Times live updates.

I'm conflicted by my own degree of complicity with many facets of this problem and my sensitivity to the urban-rural divide that exists in gun discourse in Canada.  However, I do not believe that gun control is a political issue, or should be.  Technically, a lot of issues that shouldn't be political issues have become politicized because people are dummies, but still.  Regulation is just that - regulation and I think the idea of stricter controls on guns should be something that is supported by gun enthusiasts and pacifists in equal measure.  The idea of having a constitutionally protected right to own "arms" is one of the most asinine things I've ever heard of, and makes me grateful for the the relative youth of our Charter here in Canada.

In the meantime, I'm channelling all my inner rage and feelings of powerlessness towards a renewed hatred of the Westboro Baptist Church.  On the topic of complicity though, do I contribute to the societal conditions that allow for sociopathic behaviour when I say that I wish members of the Westboro Baptist Church would be cursed with adult hand, foot, and mouth disease?  Does that make me a bad person?  A really bad person?  Or an awful person?  I don't know.  I have a feeling it does.

I ended up cancelling my plans to have the gals from Canoe over on Friday night because I was so depressed about what had happened that day in the news.  I really just wanted to be with the Dotytron and the Big Yam and to sit with them on the couch and feel warm and secure in Lil' Ugmo and feeling very, very lucky for the opportunity to do so.

Fin.

I Ain't Mad

Usually December rolls around and I'm crying and screaming about how G-D busy I am and how it's non-stop stressball city, but strangely, these past few weekends in December have been surprisingly low-key.  Yeah, we've had stuff to do, but it's never been like, two days of 3 solid outings each day, which makes for a pretty relaxed December, I must say.  

Making the decision to scale back on the gift buying has also been a godsend.  If you have the means, I highly recommend it.

I've had SO MUCH TO SAY lately, and such a backlog of book/movie reviews, but the past three days straight I've been in training to be certified for the Joint Health and Safety Committee at work.  I'd rate this training a solid 8/10.  Extra marks for lots of gratuitous stories about manufacturing accidents.  Extra marks for the emergency preparedness/Boy Scouts dimension of being on the Joint Health and Safety Committee.  The training culminates in a 40 question multiple choice, open book test.  They expect you to get 26/40 correct in order to pass.  If you DON'T pass, they mail back the test with the incorrect questions circled and you get another go.  I'm vaguely worried that I might not pass and then I'll be mighty embarrassed.  I have a history of not doing well at easy tests (see: my G1 driving test experience).  

So yeah, the weekend.  On Friday night we had Indian food.  On Saturday, we had Chinese School (winter term, yo!  Seasonally appropriate vocabulary - "snowman"!) then we went for lunch with Momma D at Great Nany's condo.  Ummmm...they don't build condos like they used to.  This condo is granted, in Etobicoke, but it's FREAKIN' HUGE!  Two bedrooms, giant living area, dining room, eat-in kitchen, two bedrooms, balcony.  Look at how cute Nany is - this is how she did the table:

By the way, this woman is 90.  And she made us caesar salad (Nany DOES NOT skimp on the dressing, it's mad saucy, as Dr. Rei would say) and chili and is working on her 9 millionth crocheted afghan.  We also got mad gossip about her life!  Like the fact that Poppa's mom (who was Catholic) refused to go to Nany and Poppa's wedding on account of the whole Catholic marrying a Protestant thing.  Plus you get to hear lines like this: "Nany (Nany's mother in law) was always saying how beautiful Honey is.  Now, I mean, Honey is pretty, but I would never say she was beautiful."  She's just a firecracker of a woman.  Love her to bits. 

On Sunday, I went a little buck and cranked out mad stuff.  First, I did all the cookie boxes for the neighbours and their cards and delivered them.  Then I made chocolate babka, the Smitten Kitchen by way of Martha Stewart's mom's recipe.  It's supposed to make 3 babkas, but I followed what Deb did and made two biggies and three mini loaves.  I'm liking this recipe more than my usual, Gourmet Magazine one, because it's chocolatier and the yield is more.  Plus, the loaves puffed out a tonne more than the Gourmet version.  However, I'm on the fence about the streusel topping from Deb's recipe.  First of all, it made TOO MUCH streusel topping.  Secondly, the streusel topping was really dry (I've never heard of confectioner's sugar in a streusel).  I like the idea of streusel, but I might do my own and do less (I ended up chucking a lot of streusel).  Do you think I've hit my mentions-of-streusel-in-a-single-paragraph quota yet?  If not, I'm definitely almost there.  I haven't cut into a babka yet (they were lovingly wrapped and frozen), but I'll report back when I do.

Then, I went on a Chicago deep-dish pizza mission, inspired by my Discerning Coyote friend's contribution to Pie Party a few weeks back.  This was very successful.  I made some tweaks to his version (using corn oil instead of olive oil and then substituting a 1/3 of the amount of oil with melted butter) which resulted in something pretty close to what I had in Chicago.  NOW WE CAN EAT DEEP DISH AT HOME WHENEVER THE F**K WE WANT!  Like, for instance, on Friday I'm having some of the gyals dem from my Canoe cooking days over and I'm going to make it again.  It's pretty easy!  The whole recipe (reproduced below) is predicated on a no-knead (you don't want to develop the gluten) dough and like, a raw tomato sauce topping.  Cinchy!

Last night I met up with Dr. Rei and we went to the mall and split an Orange Julius and basically had the best time ever.  I love that girl so much.  Then we met up with Bwong at Santouka Ramen but the line-up was super long and we got kinda spooked by the size of the bowls of plastic restaurant food they had in the front window.  You know that thing Japanese restaurants do where they show you what they got with the plastic food?  Anyway, the bowls looked MAD SMALL!  So we basically left in a huff (after inching forward a bit in the line) and left guns blazing about how everyone else in line was a chump because of the small bowls, and about how they didn't have gyoza OR karaage.   We ended up at Raijin Ramen, which doesn't get as good reviews as Santouka, but is huge and had no line and was a quite, calm experience.  Also: they have gyoza AND karaage.  Look:

See?

The karaage was boss.  Super-juicy, crispy chunks of boneless chicken thigh.  So good.  They also do this Japanese poutine thing, which is fries, teriyaki, mayo, scallions and cheese curds.  This was tasty, although I would have liked the fries to be more crispy.  The flavours were great - with an interplay between chewy, gooey, salty, sweet, and creamy:

Finally, the ramen.  I got the tonkotsu shio (they do tonkotsu shio or shoyo, but no straight up tonkotsu?) which comes with pork shoulder, half an egg, some fungus, and chunks of cabbage (?).  The broth was nice and milky, though a touch bland.  Not oversalted, which was good.  The noodles weren't al dente and the pork shoulder wasn't fatty!!!  It was kind of dry and chewy and I was pissed about the cheapness on the egg.  HALF AN EGG?!  The cabbage was a weird touch and I wasn't completely on board.  But I wasn't OFF-board either.  At any rate, I'd come back for a quick, affordable, meal with good appetizers and a quite, calm atmosphere with no lineup.  Either way, it's a better bowl of ramen than at Kenzo or Ajisen, but not as good as Kinton (lineup) or Sansotei (my favorite):

So the Big Yam is the best and keeps getting better!  He's so funny.  As he learns to string more and more words together, it's amazing what comes out of his mouth.  So on the heart-melty side you have him saying, "I lofves you, Mama."  On the conceptually-funny side you have him saying, "Maybe" as in, "Maybe...Auntie Rei coming..." last night to the Dotytron when the Dotytron told him where I was and why I wasn't at home.  Then on the hard-to-maintain-a-straight-face side, you have him in time out on the stairs, reciting his version of this book:

We had him in time out, and then from the stairs, he was talking to himself going: "It's my hot dog!  MINE!  That's it! Tastes like chicken.  Needs mustard." all disjointed and doing this funny little hoarse voice (when the Dotytron reads the book he does a broad, New Yawk, Brooklyn-type accent for the pigeon).  The Dotytron and I were almost crying trying to hold in the laughs on the couch.  It was awesome.  Those moments when you're supposed to be stern but he's making you laugh are so good.  I'm going to try to get it on video.

Then the other night we watched How the Grinch Stole Christmas for the first time.  I fell asleep, but the Dotytron said that the Big Yam started spontaneously slow-clapping when the Grinch has the change of heart and zooms down the hill to return the presents...AND THE DOTYTRON STARTED CRYING.  LOL!!! So good.

Also, he does this fake Chinese which would be completely racist if a white person was doing it.  I'll try to get video of that, too.  

Anyway, I love him and last night I almost snatched him out of bed for an impromptu Sleep Away Camp because I didn't get to see him all day.  But I left him alone in the end.

Fin.

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

Chicago Deep Dish Pizza

makes enough to fill a 12" 2" deep cast-iron skillet, which is enough for about 6 hungry people, with salad

2 1/4 t. yeast

1 1/2 t. sugar

1 c. (approx) tepid water

3 c. all purpose flour

1 1/2 t. salt

6 T. corn oil

3 T. melted unsalted butter

4-5 links Italian sausage, casings removed

1 small onion, thinly sliced

garlic

1.5 balls of mozzarella cheese, sliced into 1/4" slices (not the fresh mozzarrella, which is too wet)

1 28oz can San Marzano tomatoes, whole

a few sprigs of fresh thyme

1 t. dried oregano

- proof the yeast with the sugar in the tepid water for 10 minutes or until the yeast starts to activate.

- in the bowl of your stand mixer with the dough hook attachment, add the flour and the yeast mixture.  Mix for 1 minute.  Add the salt and the oil and butter, mix for another 2 minutes maximum.  The resulting dough will look kind of shaggy...almost like a firm biscuit dough.

- what gives the dough the texture you're looking for is the LACK of gluten development, kneading.

- scrape the dough into an oiled bowl and let rest, covered in a warm, dry place for about an hour.

- when it's proofed and doubled in bulk, gently punch it down and then press it along the bottom and up sides of your cast-iron skillet.  The dough should be pretty relaxed and easy to work with.

- while the dough is proofing, take the sausage out of the casings and cook, breaking up the large chunks with a spoon with the onion and garlic until the onion is really soft and sausage is cooked through.  Use a slotted spoon to remove sausage and onions and leave the liquid in the pan (the extra liquid would make the pizza too wet).

To assemble:

- preheat the oven to 400F

- spread the cooked sausage/onion mixture along the bottom of the prepared pie crust

- add the slices of mozzarella evenly on top

- take the San Marzano tomatoes out of the juice in the can (discard the juice) and crush with your fingers over top of the cheese, spreading the tomatoes all over the top.

- sprinkle with the thyme (off the stalk) and the dried oregano and some cracked black pepper.

- bake until crust is golden brown (approximately 30-40 minutes in my oven).

In Case You Were Wondering

...those honky grandmas still be trippin'. J/k! J/k!

Academic Book Club was Thursday night.  In which I got trotted out to the recently gutted and renovated GIANT downtown Victorian home of another Book Club member, a home that makes Lil' Ugmo look BEYOND ugmo.  4 levels, Sub Zero fridge (!!!), Montauk sofa (!!!), in-wall modern fireplace (!!!), those bleached grey hardwood floors, finished basement, yoga room/gym.  OY.  How am I supposed to host after seeing all that?!

Then you talk to these ladies and it's just...I do love them dearly but sometimes I can't believe how different we are.

We read Zadie Smith's NW, which I really disliked (full review to come).  To me, the book seemed to be white, New York Times reading, benevolent intellectual bait.  Like there was a checklist of post-colonial literature traits being offered up and fetishized for a white, privileged gaze.  Of course, this lead to talk about The Wire.  I feel like hearing some of them talking about The Wire perfectly encapsulates my discomfort with the way The Wire has been taken up.  It can be so self-congratulatory at times, like, I get it.  This is what IT'S REALLY LIKE and now I'm a privileged insider! - when the issues of poverty, the choices people in those situations make, the crumbling school system, even something as small as the culture and style and the music are so far removed from your reality.  And that's not to say that you can't appreciate it, but that you have to be mindful that your appreciation isn't based on a fetishized, reified notion of those lived realities.  So that you're not using them so that you can cluck and bemoan from the safety of your existence which is so far removed from theirs.  That you don't fix them in that state.

At one point in the discussion, one of the members was talking about how the Toronto District School Board is crumbling and how Palmerston Junior P.S. is feeling the effects of no money.  That school is in the Annex.  THERE IS NO WAY THEY ARE DIRECTLY FEELING THE EFFECTS OF TDSB FUNDING SHORTFALLS.  The Dotytron's school?  Yes.  I can buy it.  At Palmerston, the kids do Shakespeare with full costumes and sets (it's a JUNIOR school), and one of the Annex artsy playwright parents in the 'hood does the staging.  C'maaan.  Don't act like you know firsthand about inequities.  Your kids live such privileged lives!!  You're the ones fretting about getting into a "good school" district and buying a house where they'll have access to such.  You can't even get your kid to keep their mittens on, and look at me askance when I ask, "Can't you threaten them?" (which is totally legit.  The Big Yam totally keeps his mittens on and puts on his hat, because he knows his little keister is going to get hauled back inside pronto if he takes them off...AND I CAN WAIT ALL DAY).  Do we all have these contradictions?  Of course we do.  BUT ACKNOWLEDGE THEM!

Ugh.  "I don't understand how Rob Ford can win an election! It's all the suburbs' fault!"  (Newsflash: that patronizing attitude is COMPLETELY why).  When's the last time you guys ever ventured to Dufferin and Lawrence?  Or Scarborough?  Or Flemingdon Park?  Or Fairview Mall?  Stop acting like you know what's best for the people who live there and talking about your stupid plastic bag ban like THAT'S AN ISSUE THAT ACTUALLY MEANS ANYTHING FOR ANYBODY WHO HAS REAL PROBLEMS.  Also: stop talking about Rob Ford.  Who cares?  What power does the Mayor actually have?  It's one vote out of all the City Councillors.  Stop getting distracted and pay attention to the issues that actually matter and that will actually help you accomplish the goals you need to accomplish.

Then talk turned to General Petraeus and they started on the generally accepted liberal attitude that is like, "who cares what goes on in people's private lives!"  The great unwashed with their prurient interests - it's like Clinton!  People getting swept up by scandals that distract from the real issues."  (P.S.: you're getting just as distracted from the real issues).  Here's my thing with the Petraeus thing.  HE WAS A GIANT NOOB ABOUT IT.  Same with Clinton.  Same with Adam Giambrone.  I can TOTALLY get fired from my job if I happen to be surfing the net on company time, using company computers, and looking at an art spread from Vogue that features boobs.  It doesn't happen generally, BUT IT CAN.  SO WHY CAN'T SOMEONE WHO HAD AN INTER-OFFICE AFFAIR AND BROUGHT THEIR MISTRESS INTO THE OFFICE TO HAVE SEXUAL RELATIONS WITH THEM BE FIRED?!????????  That's just being unprofesh.  I work really hard to protect my professional reputation, so why can't they?

I also feel like there's a disgusting, permissive sexism to it.  Like a very, "that's just what men do."  Uhhh...being a walking cliché is not just what men do.  I called out the book club on it, too.  I was like, guys, if you found out that I was being cheated on and that I stayed with the Dotytron, you would totally be all judgy judgy up in my grill about be me being a doormat and what a d**k the Dotytron is.  Cheating on your spouse is generally, pretty wrong in my books.  It means that someone shies away from making hard decisions, is selfish, and is a giant liar (this is separate from my views on nonmonogamy and polyamory).  Why do we want giant, dillweed liars in positions of power?  You know who I feel was unjustly vilified?  Elliot Spitzer.  That guy did it right - prostitutes at hotels.  He wasn't bringing those broads into work and doing it in the staffroom.

Finally, JJ was wondering about the stand-offishness of some of the SAHM moms at the daycare and me and J were like, "why do you want to be friends with moms?" which also got us some sidelong glances.  As I've always maintained, I don't want to be friends with someone who defines their self by one aspect of their personality.  Like, "I'm a knitter.  I'm a mom.  I'm a dog person."  The only time someone defining themselves with one trait would work is if they said, "I'm into the human condition."  Just do you.  Don't be a MOM.  People are nuanced, complicated, and interesting.  Honor that about yourself.  Don't be like that lady at the Drop-In Centre I know, who has three kids and can only talk about that.  The middle one recently just started school, so when I saw her at the Drop-In, I was like, "It must be so nice to only have one at home now!" and she's all like, "Uh-oh.  Oh no.  One is harder than three.  I always say that.  One at home is so much more difficult than having three."  And in my head I'm like, RELAX, LADY.  Just own your life!  Don't be so passive-aggressive defensive about it!  So you're at SAHM with one at home.  That's cool, yo!  It's not cool when you wear your insecurities on your sleeve and try to convince me of something that I know for a fact defies the laws of physics.  This is the same mom who is Chinese but has mixed-race kids.  So she "only" speaks Cantonese to her kids.  She does the same with the Big Yam when J brings him to that drop-in.  Guys, her Chinese IS THE WORST.  It basically sounds like this:

Her accent is soooooooo bad!  I'm kinda like, "Uhhhh...could you NOT speak your butchered Cantonese to my kid, please?" It's kind of hilares, really.

Last night's pre-Academic Book Club meal was chili & fixins again.

Friday night the Big Yam got to pick our dinner (Advent Activity #7) but since he's not good at articulating, well...much of anything...we got takeout from Moti Mahal because we knew that if he could articulate his desires, he would want to eat Indian food and not, like, "IPad. Picture. Moon. Please" (which was one of his answers when we tried to ask him).  The little dude is SUPER into this awesome solar system/space app right now and his favorite thing is looking at "picture moon" and then telling us that "sun star."  I CAN'T HANDLE IT, GUYS.  HE'S GETTING INTO SCIENCE!!!

The food was sooooo good.  Their samosas are the flakiest/crispiest!  Samosas, parathas, garlic naan, and 4 curries (goat saag, butter chicken, channa, and sadhar paneer) for $32!

WEEKEND!

Fin.

FAIL

I didn't get the job.  Found out yesterday early afternoon.  I was pretty gutted about it and had myself a pretty unprofesh subdued, trying-not-to-but-not-very-successful cry at my desk and then a bit of a pity-party lunchtime walk with Dr. Rei.  By the time I got home, I was feeling more myself.  I don't know that it would have been a complete perfect fit.  Plus, it was an internal candidate, so my chances were slim anyway.  If anything, I'm feeling chuffed that out of 350+ candidates, I was obviously good enough to give the internal a run for their money and make the decision-making that much harder for the people hiring.

It's demoralizing because I'm all like, uhhh...do you KNOW me?  I have Red Bull running in my veins!  I've done two graduate degrees (both while working full time, one while on maternity leave!)!  You could basically hire me for a job where I have NONE of the qualifications and I would kick about 50 different kinds of a** because I'm an exceptional person.  I think that for the sector I work in, I've got too much zing.  I think people are looking for someone with less ideas and enthusiasm and someone more meek, and if that's what they want, then I can't give that to them. Plus, I love love love my current job and I find it fulfilling and it affords me a pretty exceptional work-life balance, so at the end of the day, I didn't lose.

I'm a lucky button, still.

I came home to this from the Dotytron, who went and got me treatsies from a new, local French bakery, Bonne Journée, as a pick-me-up:

See?  I'm a lucky button with a lovely boo.

Then, the Roomie and sweet baby T came over so I got to look at this little mug while I ate my dinner:

See?  I'm a lucky button with amazing friends and adorable babies in my life.

So we had a nice long visit and I got to squish T and listen to her funny little hooting laugh and gossiped with the Roomie and planned our New Year's Eve plans and then I busted out my glue gun to finish my new and improved yarn-wrapped wreath, because my long-awaited new shipment of vintage Shiny Brite ornaments arrived yesterday:

See? Could the successful candidate do THIS?!  I don't bloody well think so!

Also, we had a splendid, rib-sticking dinner of slow cooker chili with avocado, sour cream, cheese, and cornbread on the side.

This all goes to show that when life gives you lemons, you pick up your hot glue gun and take comfort in the fact that you lead a full, fulfilling, and joy-filled life filled with good food, good friends, good family, good crafting, and love and no amount of failed job interviews can take that away from you.

That wreath was the easiest by the way (so technically, I guess the successful candidate could do it, BUT DIDN'T), and it looks classy as all f**k.  I have an allergic reaction to decorations made with cheap, plasticky dollar store ball ornaments.  They just never look...Etsy enough, for lack of a better word.  Anyway, this is a simple matter of finding ornaments and a color of yarn that produce a nice color combination - I liked the modern feel of a the tweedy brown-grey with the antiqued, faded metallic undertones of the ornaments.  First, I wrapped a foam wreath form with the yarn.  Then I took my hot glue gun out for its' maiden voyage and put a dab of glue along the edge of the ornaments so that the tops were secure and they wouldn't pop off and shatter.  Then I strung them on a 12" piece of thin, flexible, low gauge wire and alternated sizes and colors until they formed a pleasing cluster.  I twisted the wire a few times to make sure the cluster would stay put and then tied the wire around the wreath and twisted it around the back to secure it and hide the sharp edges.  Then I hung it - ta-da!

I still have the red yarn-wrapped wreath form from two years ago and I might do something similar and then give it away (I'm running out of doors to place wreaths - I put my classic, felted, "Holla!" wreath on our inner door).  

And then, to complete my full descent into young, urban, crafter cliché, I've decided that all presents this year will be wrapped in brown kraft paper and classic red baker's twine.  BECAUSE OF COURSE THEY WOULD BE.  I'M A WALKING ETSY BILLBOARD.  

Tonight we had freezer curried squash soup &amp gruyere and ham paninis for dinner and listened to holiday music (Advent Activity #5).  Even though the Big Yam's preference is to listen to his Chinese School CD, which he loves more than anything.  I guess I shouldn't complain - he's picked up two of the songs and a bunch of the vocabulary, which is reinforcing my belief that early second language introduction is both feasible and practical.

Pretty terrible picture of the Boobla (who looks 10?!) going to town on his 4th bowl of squash soup.  But I love how our tree photographs against our purple wall.

Fin.

O Tannenbaum

More muy silencio!  I was busy not-preparing for my 2nd interview for that job I really really really want (but will probably not get).  I got the call on Tuesday that I was being called for a second interview.  Whereas other people would be all "Yay! I made it to the next round!", because I'm a megalomaniac, I was all "Boo! They didn't want me ENOUGH!  What's wrong with meeeeeeeeeee?!"  It was not my finest hour.  They apparently have 3 strong candidates and couldn't decide.  Ugghhhhhhhh...I just want to be put out of my misery.  I've had dreams of the HR rep calling and giving me the "Well, it's never nice to have to be the bearer of bad news..." spiel.  The HR rep also told me that the second interview was more of an "informal chat" and that there was "no way to prepare."  HOW DO YOU TELL A PERSON WHO PRIDES HERSELF ON PREPAREDNESS THAT THERE IS NO WAY TO PREPARE?!?!!???  How?!!!???

Anyway, I had the second interview today.  I don't want to talk about it.  Except to say, I talked about my feelings again.  *FACEPALM*  Only at the end.  And only for a teensy tiny little bit.  But I did it.  I'm the worst.

This weekend was lovely and cozy and fun.  It all kicked off on Thursday night when we had fun impromptu dinner hangs with Dr. Rei and Hanbo.  We wanted to go to Caplansky's, but stupid GUY FIERI was in there, filming Diners, Drive-Ins, and Dives and had closed the place down.  There is nothing worst than an heartset Caplansky's outing FOILED BY GUY FIERI.  So we ended up at Fancy Franks (my second time in one week), where we jammed to their best restaurant playlist ever and the Big Yam ate about a half cup of ketchup with his fingers as utensils.  Then when we were leaving, he made us all die with laughter by mimicking the Dotytron's "take care, man!" goodbye to Uncle Hanbo.  It was the best.  He also did this imitation of Dr. Rei's signature wind-up-a-kid dance and it was also, the best.

I had my day off on Friday and went buck with the Big Yam.  I made homemade Twix bars for freezing, I made buckeyes for freezing, I made a quiche for my Sunday brunch, and I basically did a tonne of work and then dumped him off with J and got a massage and then came home and laid on the couch eating leftover turkey tetrazzini.  It was pretty ace.  We had a lowkey Friday night and then a BUCKSAUCE Saturday that involved me taking the Big Yam to Chinese school, then Costco (in DECEMBER!!!), then to meet my mum for lunch and then back home.  Then the Dotytron went to get the tree.  It was epic.  We wrestled with the tree (we got a scotch pine, which smells wonderful but is a prickly bastard) and after that we were done.  We were supposed to go to S & P's Christmas party but bailed to go for a night time walk and to eat a special dinner just us.  Which never happens, so it was nice.  We went to the Riverside Public House and had their fried chicken:

The fried chicken there is soooooo good.  But everything else is kinda meh.  I wish you could just order a bucket of the chicken alone.  The kale is an afterthought, the mashed potatoes are gluey, and the gravy is flavorless.  But the chicken!!! Crispy, juicy, delicious, delicious, delicious.  So torn about going back.

We had a nice long walk to the restaurant and back and then we came home and hung out.  Just us.  On a Saturday night.  So nice.

Sunday we had our friends B & S and Tiggity and his wife R over for brunch.  Brunch entertaining is THE BOMB.  Everyone was out of the house by 1pm and we had the whole rest of the day!  Plus, we're already up anyway, so it's no biggie to prep.  Plus, we're usually eating a special Sunday breakkie anyway, so it's just the matter of making a bit of extra food.  I made quiche lorraine and a salad and chubby breakfast sausages and pumpkin donuts which were so freakin' good.  I'm going to post the recipe at the bottom of this post.  Or maybe I'll do it tomorrow because I don't feel like typing.  Either way: so good.  Cake donuts are relatively easy, but I think in order to make sure they turn out tender after hitting the fryer, the dough has to be quite soft and sticky which makes things fraught when you're patting and rolling.  Nevertheless, homemade donuts are a wonder and I might have eaten 10 billion (I'm back to talking to My Fitness Pal today).

We chased brunch with a visit to the Fire Station to drop off toys (Advent Calendar Day 2):

Then I had an unplanned but fun visit with E and then we went to Momma D's house to eat Festive Specials (double leg, what what!) and decorate the wee table top tree we got for her.  It was a lovely day, but exhausting.  I was spent by 8pm.

Tonight was all about decorating the tree (Advent Calendar Day 3).  So here is Scotchy McGee in all his prickly, scratchy, but oh-so-fragrant glory:

 Last week I made parsnip & potato latkes with a horseradish sour cream which I think was vaguely inspired by something on Smittten Kitchen.  At any rate, since I didn't consult the Smitten website once and since these latkes were EXTRAORDINARY and made a parsnip lover (well, not exactly, more like a parsnip tolerator) out of the Dotytron, and they were so dead easy, then I will definitely post the recipe at the bottom of this post.  We served it with freezer spinach & cheese manicotti (looking a little sad up there).

Tonight we had delicata squash cannelloni with a parmesan bechamel sauce with sage, and a salad of roasted brussels sprouts, hazelnuts, and a brown butter vinaigrette.



Fin.

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

Parsnip and Potato Latkes
makes about 10 2.5" latkes

3 large parsnips, peeled
2 smallish potatoes
2 eggs
1/2 t. baking powder
1/4 cup (or thereabouts) of flour
salt and pepper
sour cream & prepared horseradish, mixed to your desired level of each ingredient, for dipping
canola oil for frying

- grate the parsnips (we ran them through the grater disk on the food processor)
- ditto the potatoes
- take the grated veggies and throw them in a dish towel, gather up the corners so you get a towel ball filled with grated root vegetables, twist, and squeeze to get out the extra liquid
- in a bowl, stir together the eggs, the baking powder, the flour and salt and pepper to taste (keep in mind that you will salt the latkes again after they come out of the pan, so just season enough at this point to keep them from being insipid).
- dump the grated veg into the bowl and toss everything with a fork until all the delicious soon-to-be-crispy veggie strands are coated.
- drop heaping spoonfuls of this mixture into a pan with about an inch of oil, heated to hot.  Fry on either side until golden and crispy and remove with a slotted spoon or some other utensil that encourages draining to paper towel-lined dish.  Sprinkle with salt.
- Eat with gusto with horseradish sour cream, plain old sour cream, or apple sauce.