The attack of the killer cat hand

...the thrilling tale of how an over-testosteroned cat almost ruined my weekend. Wednesday afternoon I was sitting out on my neighbour's front lawn doing the usual after-work street hang thing with the Big Yam. The Dotytron opened our screen door to ask me something and I guess Smudge, our cat got outside, immediately saw Lil' Bit, our next door neighbour's cat and started going buck wanting to eat him. Now Smudge is truly the gentlest cat around, INSIDE the house. He routinely sits passively as the Boobla Khan mauls him and cheerfully pulls his tail and yanks out handfuls of his fur. But, outside in the world, he goes a little insane. So I separated the two kitties and then tried to hustle Smudge back into the house, grabbing him by the scruff of the neck. He was so amped up that he turned around and chomped down on my hand, pretty deep, before running into the house. This whole exchange took about 2 minutes. Later on in the evening, as I was eating dinner with our Discerning Coyote friend at Bairrada - my hand started swelling up like crazy and it hurt when I lowered it below my heart level - like the dickens.

Thursday morning I called to make an appointment with my doctor, just to see what was going on - when the receptionist triaged me over the phone and I said "cat bite" she immediately got me an appointment for later that afternoon. I wasn't going to keep the appointment, but am I glad I ever did! Dr. T was scaring the bejeezus out of me and totally stoking the smoldering embers of my hypochrondria. He said that the bite was definitely infected and that he was very glad that I came to see him when I did and that he was going to start me on oral antibiotics but if that didn't work then he wanted me to go IMMEDIATELY to the hospital as the next stage was INTRAVENOUS antibiotics. WTF?!???!! He was saying stuff like, "I want you to have a very low tolerance for seeking emergency help if anything changes." !!!!!!!!!! Who knew?!? He also gave me a new tetanus shot (even though I'd had one just 5 years prior) and he called me on Friday and he wanted me to come back first thing Saturday so he could monitor the situation.

Is that insane or what? I was like, what the hell? Who knew cat bites were so serious? Apparently because cat's teeth are so sharp and thin, they can puncture really deep. Their mouths obviously harbor a lot of bacteria, which means the bacteria can be deposited quite deep into the hand and infect tendons. Hands are also considered "high risk" areas for animal bites, because they don't get great blood flow (extremity) and the network of tendons, musculature, etc. is so complicated, which is why he wanted to re-up my tetanus immunization and why he wanted to make sure the infection didn't spread. So he drew a mark around the redness on my hand and told me to go straight to emergency if the redness spread beyond the outline or if the swelling increased or if I broke a fever. Insane. I couldn't believe it. But when I came back on Thursday and told my neighbour, she said her friend got a cat bite on the hand and it spread to his elbow with his forearm all swollen in like, a couple of hours!!!!!!! So let that be a lesson to you - cat hand is no laughing matter.

I was especially bummed about cat hand ruining my weekend. We had plans to go with Supper Club to the Island for a picnic - luckily, by Canada Day the swelling had greatly reduced and the redness had retreated somewhat. So we loaded up the Chariot and biked to the ferry docks which OF COURSE were INSANE with tonnes of n00bs also going to the Island that day. The lineup stretched all the way back to Queen's Quay. Luckily, everyone is going to Centre Island and the Ward's Island ferry was empty. Unluckily for everyone else, they were all crammed onto the Centre Island ferry like sardines, not realizing that all the islands are connected and that the difference is, as our buddy Fox says, "purely psychological." No matter - we sat on the sandy beach of Ward's which looks onto the Leslie spit, facing away from the city and it's lovely. It was a bit of a hipster hang - everyone around us was like 20nothing and look like they ambled out of an American Apparel ad, but it was a hot, sunny day and we picnic'd like kings. Evidence:

The Dotytron and our friend R pulling daddy daycare duty - Dotytron is sporting a women's sun hat.

Master T sporting Liz's sunglasses

Liz holding T and looking radiant

T's buddy, D.

We left the island in the early evening and had grand plans to go to a lobster boil hosted by B's work friend down the street from us, or to catch drinks with Fox and his gf, but by the time we got home, showered, bathed and fed the Big Yam, we were all exhausted. So we had the roomie over for Pakistani take out and front stoop hangs with the neighbourhood kids. It was a lovely way to spend Canada Day, even if we were asleep by 11pm. I love the feeling of being sun drunk - lying on a blanket in the sun all snoozy and lethargic with heavy limbs. Like you could sleep the whole day away...it's one of the few times I let myself be lazy.

I know I've said it before, but I really think I live on the cutest street in all of Toronto. On Thursday evening a few of the neighbours rounded up their kids and we all walked to the ice cream store together in a little caravan - toting kids in strollers, walking, kids pushing other kids on plastic buggies...it was the cutest!!! I love my street - so lucky we have this.

We headed up to Markham after I got the a-ok from the doctor on Saturday - after begrudgingly spending the night downtown on Friday. We hung out with my sister and her kids and celebrated Poh Poh's 89th birthday:

It was bittersweet. I came home last night all sad and on the verge of crying. Sunday was an emotionally draining day. My sister and I had breakfast with my dad on Sunday morning - an airing of the grievances if you will, that was cathartic but still taxing. Then we had a physically draining excursion with the kids to the splash pad in Markham, and then dinner for Poh Poh at Big Mouth Kee.

I was sad when I came home because I was remembering previous year's celebrations of my Poh Poh's birthday - when Kung Kung would organize a giant banquet and book out the whole restaurant and it was a big to-do with like, 9 or 10 tables of guests and a full day of mah jong. This year was a quieter affair - Poh Poh still played mah jong but the cake cutting during the "afternoon tea" portion was much more subdued. It's natural, I suppose - since Kung Kung was the driving force behind all the ostentatious gaiety. But I was just sad. Then I started remembering how ungrateful I was and how I was a jerk one time to my grandparents (I was a jerk MANY times to my grandparents but I was remembering one time in particular) and I started feeling so guilty about awful ways I behaved as a kid and remorseful that I never had a chance to tell Kung Kung I was sorry. This has been a hard year - with Poppa getting sick around this time last year and Kung Kung passing away...it's definitely had a lasting impact on me. The Dotytron and I were talking about it last night - your 30s are such a transitional time. We have experienced so much joy and love from having the Big Yam and maturing into our relationships with our family and extended friend-family network and at the same time, as you get older the reality of it is that you're going to start losing more and more people and that's just the way it is. I was sad last night because I wasn't sure if Kung Kung died knowing that I loved him and was grateful to him for everything he ever did for me.

It's so weird how these random moments can fill you with guilt after the fact. When we were prepping for my fatburger shower last year, I had filled a piping bag with frosting for the mini cupcakes and my sister perked up and said she wanted to try piping the frosting on. So she was doing it and then I saw that she was getting frosting on the floor of the dining room and she wasn't wielding the piping bag properly so I kind of hustled in and took it out of her hands and took over and I'm like, FILLED WITH GUILT about that to this day. For being such a jerk and being so controlling and bossy and perfectionist when my sister had done SO MUCH for me and was so excited for the arrival of the Big Yam and had been so amazing about throwing me a shower and going so above and beyond. She continues to do so much for me. And look at me. I'm an ingrate. I barely did anything for her when she got married and when she had Miss E because I was a no-good 20 year old raver and an underpaid slave drone in the restaurant industry, respectively, when those seminal events happened. Ugh ugh ugh. Soooo guilty!

Sis - I love you the mostest...and even though I won't cut and paste Facebook status memes out of principle - I hope you realize that you're the best sister to me and I feel guilty all the time for not being half as good to you.

See? I'm an emotional wreck. I don't know if I'm hormonal or what. I'm a total suck now. I blame a combination of: turning 30, the loss of 2 great men in my life in the past year, having a baby, my own maudlin sentimentality, and watching a David Simon series (remember how I got when I was watching The Wire regularly? Treme apparently has the same effect).

The plus side of going to the doctor's on Thursday was that they had a table set up for the East York Senior's services network or something, which has volunteer opportunities for people to connect with and help seniors in the community. So I think I'm going to sign up. There's stuff like visiting seniors in their homes or taking them to appointments. The Dotytron: "That's great beebs. But are you just going to cry the whole time?" (I hadn't thought of that. Note to self: get a handle on crying about old people before volunteering with old people organization).

Here are some shots from the splash pad - I have the cutest niece and nephews in the world. Little Big Cuz was not feeling the water so much:

Thursday night's dinner was boss. Pan fried smoked cured pork chops from the mennonites (it's like eating a thick piece of english bacon/ham), new potatoes boiled and tossed while still warm with creme fraiche and scallions, and sugar snaps steamed and tossed with sesame oil from our CSA.

Finally, here's a video of the Big Yam doing his new fish mouth thing while eating. It's the cutest - he does it at the 23 second mark. He's also showing off his "slap the table" technique for more food. We're trying to do the baby sign language for "more" but he much prefers yelling at us and slapping the high chair tray with his hand. Incidentally, baby sign language is kind of weird. There are a bunch of signs for stuff that has NO PRACTICAL PURPOSE! Like "cow" or "butterfly" or "blueberry." I don't need my kid to tell me when he sees a cow! How is that ever going to come up? I think we're going to try for "more" "water" "please" "poo" - you know, the communication that makes MY life easier.

Our friend Pingy is in town so we're hanging out with her in the afternoon. The drop-in centre we usually go to is closed for the year, but one of the parents organizes a Monday thing that runs all summer in a nearby park with a splash pad, so I think we're going to go to that this morning. Our pool is opened so we have TOO MANY possible things to do during the week now. Yay summer! Bye bye sad, hello being grateful and loving life and the awesome people in it!

Fin.

I didn't forget about Dre.

I swear! I've been taking an extended hiatus to work reeeeaaaalllllyyy hard on finishing my LAST PAPER OF FIRST YEAR MPPAL!!!!!!!!!!!!!! It's done done done! It's in in in! WAHOOOOOOOOOOO!!! I'm freeeeeeeeee! Free to spend the summer with my boys and chilling out maxing relaxing all cool. Free to spend my afternoons swimming, visiting with friends, crafting, thinking about cottage fun times, cookings, farmer's marketing, bike adventuring with the Dotytron. FREE.

So my extended absence from chinotto hating land was well warranted, methinks. This does leave me with a big hodgepodge to tell you about and a recap of last weekend on the cusp of this weekend...but so what? The last weekend was delicious. We had a park picnic with kdubsguelph crew at Riverside Park in Guelph:

We played ladderball (BEST. GAME. EVER.) and the girls changed the Big Yam's diaper while I was playing catch and he was apparently quite traumatized by it - to the point of trying to crawl away from them with his bare butt in the air while they all laughed. LOL! Then we came home and were obviously pooped from a day spent outside. Sunday we had a bbq at Xtina & Buns' home to see baby H.

As Tillers puts it, leaning babies up against each other is never not funny. Look at these three hooligans! You've got H looking like a dad in his dad jeans, Big Yam looking like he's having the time of his life, and sweet mullet V looking like she's ready to cut someone:

We came home on Sunday and I was working on the computer when I saw someone coming up the shared driveway and rummaging in our neighbour's recycling bins. I wasn't sure what was going on so I watched for a bit, until the person started rummaging in our recycling bin. Then I told the Dotytron to maybe go outside and let the person know that we put out our recycling on Tuesday, so if he could come back then to collect recyclables for cash instead of showing up in our driveway, we would prefer that. So the Dotytron went out there and told him and was super nice about it, but OF COURSE the guy was an old Asian man and I immediately felt guilty for shooing him away and I started crying cuz I was all worried that he wasn't going to be okay. The Dotytron loves it when I cry over stuff like this. Mainly because he and Dr. Rei both love nothing more than when I drop my tough-guy routine. LOL! Anyway, I kept crying about it off and on all Sunday evening. To the point where on Monday, the Dotytron turned to me and said, "remember when you were weeping last night? THAT was an awkward display of humanity." LOL!

On Monday I made us a dinner of baby new potatoes tossed warm with creme fraiche, salt and pepper and chopped scallions, with roasted lemon-oregano stuffed sea bream, and a side of roasted asparagus. Didn't get a photo of it, though. Tuesday I made us lamb kofta in a harissa-kicked sauce with sweet-sour Moroccan style eggplant on top of whole wheat couscous with raisins and grated carrot. This was a big hit:


Last night we had dinner with our Discerning Coyote friend and his new ladybird, N. We went to Bairrada on College. I suggested it based on the fact that it has a gorgeous, giant patio and lured by the promise that Wednesdays are "roasted pork on a spit" night. Anticipating big hunks of juicy pork, I was chagrined to find that they saw off little wee plates of dry pork brushed with piri piri. When we saw that suckling pig was on the menu, we tried to order that, but it was sold out! Then our meals and apps took forever to arrive (they comped us an app and our second round of drinks though) and when the food did arrive, it was underwhelming. Don't think I'm actually a fan of Portuguese food, to be honest. As the Dotytron summarized, "nice patio with dry stuff." It was true: everything we had there WAS dry.

One of our favorite nighttime rituals now is on our way to bed, to go and "take a peek" at the Big Yam while he's sleeping. We tip toe into his room, peer into the crib, behold him looks all peaceful and pouty in slumber like this:



...and then turn to each other and smile all welling up with love and happiness and cute overload. It's my favorite part of the day. Seriously - how can you not love looking at that?!?

I also kind of like going into the room when he's wigging out and peering in the crib and seeing him all distressed clutching a stuffy - it's also cute with his two little (soon to be four) Chiclet teeth poking out:

The Dotytron went into work today to clear out his classroom and attend meetings. He should be home earlier in the afternoon and then we're planning on heading out to Metro Hall to hear some big band free outdoor concert thing. More likely, I'm going to splinter off and hang out with Dr. Rei while the Baba and Boobla listen to big band. Pingy comes into town tonight! Then tomorrow is a Supper Club Canada Day picnic on the Island, maybe more hanging with Pingy in the late afternoon, and then up to Markham to visit with my family because my sis is coming into town - it's Little Ze's birthday today and my Poh Poh's 89th birthday on Sunday. Yay! Family time. Fun time. Sun time. Bliss.

Fin.

I'm coming home

My youngest brother, CHova, is 10 years younger than me. That's a pretty big age gap for siblings and it meant that we lived parallel, concurrent lives - under the same roof but at entirely different stages, spaced too far apart to share experiences and be contemporaries. I've always felt badly that for most of his youth CHova was practically an only child, at home alone, in the crumbling estate that is my family's house in Markham, with my mom and Big D (two people who are notorious in their complete and utter inability to understand adolescence). Bruce Wayne has always stepped up and I'm glad that my brothers have each other for besties. It makes a big difference.

CHova has turned out to be a really good kid. He's smart, hard-working, responsible, funny and socially at ease. And he's cool. It's nice to have a sibling who's cool and stays on top of shiz. I sometimes look at him and marvel at how he turned out - almost against the odds.

At Kung Kung's funeral, CHova came out of nowhere and gave one of the most moving speeches I've ever heard in my life. It was funny, it was poignant, it was heartfelt. He told stories about my Kung Kung and how one of the things he'll always remember is how my Kung Kung stood up for him one time when he was just an 8 year old kid, when an older dude cut in front of CHova in line at McDonald's. He told another story of how my Kung Kung took him to see Gladiator and they emerged from the theatre in the pouring rain, how my Kung Kung looked at him, paused and said, "I guess we better make a run for it" and how Kung Kung outran him to the car. CHova closed his speech with the chorus from "Coming Home" - a song I'd never heard before that day...and now whenever I hear it I cry. And yeah, I know it's Diddy and I know it's kind of cheesy, but Skyler Grey kills it and the sentiment gets me every time. When I think of my Kung Kung and Poppa and Grandpa Reid and well, every old person in the world going home, with those words ushering them into the great beyond, it's unbelievably bittersweet.

All this is to say that I love CHova and I'm proud of him.

I'm continuing to experience family dramas with my dad and it's annoying and most of all saddening that someone could be so lucky as to have my siblings and I for family and not give a rat's. I look into the Big Yam's cute little face (seriously - how he is so cute? Cute expressive eyes, cute button nose, cute little mouth, cute little teefs, cute chubby cheeks, cute straight eyebrows, cute round head - there isn't a single feature that ISN'T cute individually and when put together becomes the apotheosis of cuteness) and I'm just sorry that my dad chooses to miss out. And I think of how awesome it would have been for Kung Kung and Poppa and Grandpa Reid to know this little being that they're a part of.

But they're home. And when it's my turn to go home I'll tell them how grateful I am for my family.

Fin.

Ag.

Been meaning to post more, but haven't had the opportunity - I've been plugging away at my school stuff pretty prodigiously and the Big Yam's napping ain't what she used to be. Monday's belated Father's Day meal for Poppa D was fun! We constructed a collaborative meal and sat in Momma and Poppa D's gorgeous backyard, eating in the waning sunlight and playing Cranium together.

The finger in the mouth means he's working on dem teefs again. His top right tooth is coming in something fierce. I'm going to his goofy smile with just the bottom two chompers. Momma and Poppa D made a pork tenderloin stuffed with prunes on the grill, served with a currant jelly glaze. Ehmdo brought asparagus for grilling and a cabbage and apple slaw. I brought a spring new potato salad and the orange creamsicle tart:

Tuesday night's dinner was a bit of a write off - we just grabbed pizza from Queen Margherita takeout because we were home so late from the after school guitar party (kid in the class, sighing happily while munching on banana bread, "I love guitar parties" and then being rapidly corrected by someone else, "You mean you love the Dotytron's guitar parties!" - so cute!) and then we had to grab our CSA pickup. For Wednesday night dinner I made us a cold antipasti pasta salad - whole wheat farfalle tossed with sliced hot genoa salami, roasted peppers, tomatoes, mini boccaccini balls, basil, black olive tapenade and olive oil.

Tonight the plan is to make a cold soba noodle salad with shrimp, salad greens, and asparagus in a sesame-ginger dressing.

Last night was Academic Book Club, discussing the Hunger Games. I almost didn't go - the hostesses' house was all the way across town and I just wanted to loll around with the Dotytron and the Big Yam and the roomie who came for a walk and a visit. But I'm glad I did. I love those ladies and we have some pretty awesome conversations. Plus, my friend A gave me her old Britax Marathon car seat! Wahoo!!! Fancy fancy!

As promised, the Baked Orange Creamsicle tart recipe follows, with my adaptations.

Fin.

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

Baked Orange Creamsicle Tart

adapted from Baked: Explorations

makes 1 9" tart

For the Orange Cream Soda Filling:

1 stick of unsalted butter, cut into small cubes

1 1/4 t. unflavoured gelatin

zest and juice of 2 medium lemons (approx 1/4 c. juice)

zest and juice of 3 large oranges (approx 1 c. juice)

1 c. of orange cream soda (regular orange pop works)

3 large eggs

2 large egg yolks

3/4 c. of sugar

pinch of salt

1 prebaked 9" tart shell

1 c. of whipping cream

2 T. of sugar

Make the Orange Cream Soda Filling:

- place the butter in a mixing bowl, set aside.

- sprinkle the gelatin evenly over the lemon juice in a bowl. set aside so that the gelatin can soften.

- in a medium saucepan, stir together the orange juice and soda. Bring to a boil and simmer until it is reduced by half or 1 cup. Take it off the heat and whisk to cool slightly.

- in another bowl, whisk together the orange and lemon zest, the eggs, egg yolks, sugar and pinch of salt until combined. Pour the mixture into the saucepan and cook over medium heat, whisking constantly, until mixture thickens and evenly coats the back of a wooden spoon. Take the saucepan off the heat.

- whisk in the gelatin mixture until all the gelatin is dissolved.

- pour this mixture through a sieve into the bowl with the butter and whisk thoroughly until all the butter is incorporated. Place a piece of plastic wrap directly onto the surface of the curd and set in the refrigerator to chill for 4-6 hours or until firm.

Assemble the Tart:

- take out the curd, it will be quite firm. Whisk it to loosen it slightly.

- spread the curd into the prepared tart shell.

- beat the 1 c. of whipping cream with 2 T. of sugar until firm peaks. Top the curd with the whipping cream. Serve immediately.

Baba's Day weekend

Oy vey, another mondo mondosian (that's a signature Dotytron catchphrase) weekend catch-up post. Pre-softball dinner on Friday was a beauty of a meal - roasted peppers, hot house cherry tomatoes, torn basil, topped with a custardy ball of burrata imported from Italy, drizzled with olive oil and coarse sea salt and black pepper. We ate it up with a toasted baguette, some capicollo, and some balsamic & olive oil for dipping. I'm absolutely loving these no-cook, summertime, composed meals:

We lost our softball game, which I wasn't happy about and I didn't play as well as I did last time, but I'm still in looooove with the game.

On the way home, I ended up going a little buck and spending like, 40 bazillion dollars on those new Magnum ice cream bars. We were totally under the sway of the pervasive advertising campaign (featuring Rachel Bilson! Photographed by my namesake, Karl Lagerfeld!!!) and thought we would treat ourselves to a bar. So we went on a mission, hit up 3 convenience stores with no luck, before striking gold at Shopper's Drug Mart. As I'm settling up at the cash, a little bit shocked that A SINGLE BAR goes for $4.25 or something, the cashier says to me, "did you know the boxes are on special?" So I go to the freezer section and lo and behold, the boxes ARE on special, from $6.99 to $4.99 for a box of 3. So of course, I went a little buck and bought FOUR boxes. In my defense, it's because I couldn't decide on a flavour. When we finally tucked into them at home, I gotta say, I was a little disappointed. The ice cream is really pedestrian and lacks the richness of Haagen Daaz and the chocolate has a nice snap to it, but still tastes like cheap, wax-infused crap. So not worth it.

The Dotytron's end of year recital was kind of amazing. A billion judo demos, hip hop, jazz, ballet, and the Dotytron's guitar classes. So cute! Then we headed over to B & G's for deck building. I feel like our friend Gaz totally helped demystify the process for the Dotytron and I. Gaz's approach comes down to "keeping up the intensity" (in his words) - working quick, fast, making sure stuff is level, and not being too precious about the process. I can dig it. Then it was meeting up with Dr. Rei, Hanbo, and Dr. Rei's bro for some Burger's Priest action. As I got out of the car to pick up the Burger's Priest, I saw that there was a KFC next door (I had forgotten the close proximity) and shouted, "Go in without me, I'm going to grab a Double Down to go!" to Dr. Rei. This was my meal:

The Double Down is aight. I wish they used dark meat, and I wasn't fond of the cheese - but the concept is pretty solid. My priest burger was overcooked - they used to serve them pink in the middle and this was cooked all the way through. When they do that, the meat becomes indistinguishable from a Five Guys burger, in my humble opinion (and I've got a pretty finely attuned palate for these nuances, let's face it).

Sunday was Father's Day so I made the Dotytron a breakfast of warm biscuits with strawberry butter, fried duck eggs, and Bob Evans sausage patties:

Then we possé-d up and headed to High Park with the Boobla. We hung out in the Jamie Bell Adventure Playground which is all kinds of awesome and checked out the zoo, which is sad. I can't handle the zoo tip anymore - it's just too damned depressing.

Headed over to Barque Smokehouse and got in line (they reserve 1/2 the table for resos and 1/2 for walk ins). We got a seat on the patio, were informed that it was a $25 prix fixe, waited about 15 minutes for our server to take our drink order and then began the longest wait. We waited and waited and waited. About mid-way through the wait, a bucket of popcorn seasoned with their dry rub was unceremoniously plunked down in front of us. The rub is nice - slightly sweet, with a good amount of paprika. Then we waited some more, watching all the while while EVERY OTHER TABLE in the restaurant received their first course. I could tell the kitchen was in the weeds - it was obvious. Less obvious is how a kitchen gets into the weeds when you're serving a PRIX FIXE. Not just that - a predominantly BBQ DOMINATED PRIX FIXE! All that shiz should be DONE, son! It's really just a matter of expediting! One of the courses is SALAD! Why isn't someone in the kitchen doing 40" bowls of the stuff at a time? The dessert course is an ice cream sandwich! Why aren't they premade and sitting in the freezer? Also, with barbecue, all your smoking should be done and you should just be warming the food. Ugh. I was getting increasingly antsy but the Dotytron was losing his mind.

After three unsuccessful check-ins, 1 with our nerdlinger server who gave us the empty, "I'm going to check on that right away for you" (apparently "checking on that right away" means "opening wine for 10 other tables") and 2 Abercrombie-blonde ditzy busboys "your food is coming out in 1 minute," the Dotytron was apoplectic. We had been waiting for 1 hour and 20 minutes with nary an ingestible substance save for popcorn to be seen. The interesting thing about these scenarios is how we always end up playing against type. You would think that **I** would be the one dropping F-bombs and losing my shiz, wouldn't you? FALSE! It's always the Dotytron who wants to walk out without paying and gets all wiggy. So I informed the waiter that we were leaving, he apologized profusely, and then the Dotytron wanted justice so he talked to the owner/manager who also apologized and said that he would send us home with 2 complete meals, packaged to go, on the house. Classy. They won us back right there.

It was kind of the best-possible scenario. I would generally prefer to eat at home and we got our meal comped...save for the waste of almost 2 hours of my time, they did the right thing. The food is really good. Prix fixe included: smoked chicken wings, Asian-style scallop, watermelon mint soup shooter (nicely and unexpectedly jumped up with a hit of chili), pork ribs, smoked chicken, chicken fingers for the Big Yam, surf'n'turf of striploin & shrimp served with hollandaise, smashed potatoes, sautéed peas and mushrooms, a salad of mixed greens apples and almonds, and ice cream sandwiches (ours just the cookie) for dessert. I was impressed with the creativity of the kitchen to go beyond the standard fare. I'm also a sucker for steak and hollandaise. Nice smoke ring on the smoked stuff with all of the meat getting a dose of the rub, and served with what I'm pretty sure is a Lexington-style sauce and a Kansas city style sauce (I prefer the Lexington). The food is incredible value for $25 and I will be going back. If they don't sort out their service issues, then I am the kind of person who values service enough when I'm eating out that I wouldn't go back...but I'm hoping that they learn how to manage the flow better. I place the blame squarely on the servers who didn't know how to make things right, manage their tables, or comfort their guests. The owner/manager was great and the kitchen ended up turning out really tasty food.

For dessert I made us the orange creamsicle tart from the Baked: Explorations cookbook, with some minor tweaks. I find the Baked boys really like to complicate things needlessly, so I did some streamlining of the process. Tart is great - a silky orange curd topped with whipped cream really does mimic the delicious summer pleasure of an orange creamsicle - will post the recipe with my adjustments on the morrow:

Tonight we're heading to Momma & Poppa D's for a belated Father's Day bbq - I'm bringing a spring potato salad (new potatoes, asparagus, radishes, tossed with a mustardy dressing) and the rest of the creamsicle tart for dessert.

Fin.

Le sigh...

...we have crawling! Kind of. It's weird...I feel like when you watch him go, it doesn't actually look like he's moving (the motions aren't fluid in the least - he does these weird Frankenstein arms), but then you notice that he's somehow maneuvered his way across the floor. Happyface! Sadface! The following video also features a Smudgie cameo AND an extended self-examination of the diaper fastenings interlude. Scintillating stuff.

The Big Yam mastered the art of self-locomotion in tandem with the ability to pull himself up to standing. Ai-Ya. He's not consistent at it yet, but all the foundations are there. Time to get baby gates and resign ourselves to everything at knee height being pulled onto the floor.

I ran intervals yesterday. Which is a HUGE leap up from my usual slow-jog-canter-barely-breaking-a-sweat action. Ummmmm...intervals are HARD. On the plus side, I've already met my boot camp quota for the week with three days left to go! Huzzah! I'm also thinking of taking up skipping as a cardio activity. Aaaand...we have my beloved softball tonight. Aaaand...I've had the opportunity to have myself a catch several times this week. Love playing catch. Loooooooooves it.

What a busy week! Wednesday hangs with Hanbo was good times. Strolled the Roncey strip, picked up an awesome takeout lunch of breaded pork and coleslaw, nosed around the antique stores on Queen West, felt grateful that I don't live out there, had a catch - all in all, a successful mission. Yesterday I took the Boobla into City Hall to have lunch with my friend A from my book club. She's my successful, down-to-earth, and really engaged friend. She has 2 boys and is about 6 years older than me, but I still sometimes feel like a kid around her for some reason...or like a little sister.

I'm feeling pretty good about my portion of the research paper. If the nap gods line up, I should have it done by this evening, hopefully, leaving my weekend free for fun and games. The agenda this weekend is as follows: take Poh Poh out to lunch tomorrow, then head to Scarborough to see the final "gala" for the Dotytron's after school program kids (where they do a showcase of all the stuff they've been working on), then head over to B & G's house to help them with their deck if the boys are still working on it, then hanging with Dr. Rei and Hanbo.

Is it totally weird that I love helping people with decks? That to me is a good time. Mainly because I like social activities that combine some hands-on work and learning opportunities. Our friend Gaz used to be a contractor and B is a great, hands-on learner/project tackler, and our friend Fox is always willing to help out. I like having those kinds of dudes in my life. The kind who like doing dude things and don't think that spending an afternoon drinking beer in the sun and building something is work. The kind that will offer to help you demo your deck and garage and are actually looking FORWARD to it. The kind that will get me over my fear of building my own deck. The kind that keep me from being the kind of person (like some of my neighbours) who have their fathers come downtown to install a wireless doorbell.

Sunday is Father's Day - I'm making the Dotytron brunch and then maybe taking him out for a quick dinner if the timing works out...we're supposed to go up to Markham because Bruce Wayne and CHova want to take Big D out to Red Lobster, but I'm pretty sure Red Lobster doesn't take reservations and I feel like that's going to be a shiz-show. So it might just be our family together on Baba's day. No complaints here, really. I always wonder when your family unit gets to claim holidays as your own.

Last night's Polski Ogorki meal - 2 kinds of kolbassa, pickled herring & raw onions on heavily buttered rye bread, a cucumber-sour cream-dill salad on my CSA lettuce.

Tonight we're having another cool, no-cook meal - roasted peppers and tomatoes topped with burrata, some cured meats, and some baguette.

Fin.

Quickly...

Trying to get my portion of the group research paper done during nap intervals. This post is going to be mostly photos. We're heading out to hang out with Hanbo today and do a west-end/Ronceys stroll...weeee!

Here's a photo of the Big Yam reppin' Toronto and the Cadillac Lounge, looking like a big boy:

Monday night's dinner. A kind of deconstructed carbonara - bacon crisped in a pan and set aside to drain. Tagliatelle cooked in salted water, drained in a colander with the baby spinach and baby arugala inside already (so that they wilt a bit), everything tossed with a heap of grated parm and topped with a poached egg and salt and pepper:

Last night I made us a yellow/green bean salad, topped with sliced cherry tomatoes, chickpeas, crumbled Bulgarian feta, and the roasted garlic-dijon vinaigrette from last week, loosened up with a lemon's worth of juice. Sided with warmed pita and more pan-fried haloumi - because we're haloumi obsessed currently:

I also took advantage of the last day of the cold front to crank the oven and make a strawberry rhubarb pie. I was worried it wouldn't thicken enough, but it looks pretty good! I've wrapped it and frozen it until Saturday, when I hope to cut into it with Dr. Rei and Co.:

Last dodgeball game until the fall tonight! We're hoping to bike there and back as part of our "Boot Camp"

Fin.

Roll out those...

lazy, hazy, crazy days of summer indeed. Once again, my heart is full to bursting after all the lovely time spent this past weekend.

As it turns out - I'm NOT the worst player on our softball team! Wahoo!!! I caught a pop fly and felt really good about it...but my problem is I have to remember that unlike dodgeball, where a certain degree of showboating is forgivable (or so I like to think), in softball, hooting and hollering when you catch a pop fly isn't the best strategy, because as my teammate said, your opponents "keep running." So I got to check that impulse and instead complete the play. In this case, it was fine, but for future reference, don't ya know. I also took a line drive to the shin and was a total tough guy about it, but it hurt like a mother. I was playing second and the Dotytron, who was on third, was laughing later about how when it happened, he saw the ball smack dead onto the bone of my shin, saw me grimace for a second with an "oh that smarts" expression on my face (somewhat akin to Sideshow Bob's expression getting hit in the face with a rake in the "Cape Feare" episode of the Simpsons), take a deep breath, and then pick up the offending ball resignedly and complete the play. LOL! I'm still laughing about how it must have looked from the outside because it was a bit of a doozy.

I kind of feel sorry for people who don't use fans to cool their house. I find something so soothing about the rhythmic whirring of an oscillating fan. On Friday, the Big Yam was being a bit of a fuss in the afternoon so I took him up to our room and nursed him while I read on my Kindle. Our room gets beautiful light during the day, diffused slightly by our sheer curtains, and with the sound of the fan the only other noise punctuating his contented nursing at my boob, it was perhaps 20 of the most relaxing, perfectly content minutes of my life. Especially when it was punctuated with the Big Yam detaching himself with a breathy sigh and falling asleep looking like this:

That face!!! I love his face in repose. I love his little hand on his stomach all happy and relaxed. I love thinking about what happy dreams he's having, lulled by the sun, a belly full of milk, and the metronomic regularity of the fan.

Friday night I made us a white pizza on homemade pizza dough of ricotta, mozzarella, baby arugala, and proscuitto:

Saturday morning we took my mum and Poh Poh out to lunch at Phoenix. I ordered the ox tongue on fried rice with cream sauce and black pepper sauce:

We also had the spicy ground pork Korean rice bowl:

Saturday I handed over the Big Yam to the Dotytron so I could finish my assignment for school, which I managed to do! And I submitted it 3 days early! Yay! Then we met up with R & R at the Ceili Cottage for cask-conditioned ales and oysters and kettle chips and mac'n'cheese and a whinging, whiny, yelly Big Yam disturbing the dining experiences of an entire patio. Ugh. Some madness compelled me to invite R & R over to our (uncleaned!) house and give them a tour of what $350,000 will buy you in Leslieville (which I think effectively scared them off from ever moving - the piles of dirty laundry are an effective deterrent). On the bike ride home I was frantically shouting instructions to the Dotytron: "Okay, when you get home. Put the Big Yam to bed and then rip the Slanket off the couch!!! Wipe off the coffee table!!! Sweep and vacuum the floor!!!" and then I realized the madness of trying to accomplish any of that (did I mention that R & R were driving from Ceili Cottage?) and said, "You know what? This is stupid. We like these guys. They're just going to have to see us warts and all." So instead we plied them with scotch until (hopefully) the state of lil' ugmo blurred into the edges of a warm, fuzzy, single-malt buzz.

Sunday we hit the newly launched Leslieville Farmer's Market (upwardly mobile urban parent check 1!), after grabbing the Dotytron a coffee from the best coffee shop in town, Voulez-Vous Café (upwardly mobile urban parent check 2!), which was deemed thus by our rabidly coffee obsessed/food snob neighbour. Then we came home, set up our window unit a/c (which works so unbelievably well that I am not even batting an eye at the projected heat wave to come mid-week. Seriously. We closed the door and turned it on for 15 minutes and when we went in, the room was a meat locker), cleaned the house, and took the Big Yam to Withrow Park for some catch and swings.

In case you were wondering if the Big Yam looks ADORABLE in his helmet riding in the Chariot, I'll let you decide for yourself with the following photographic evidence:

The kid loves a good swing more than anything. He's always found the near/far thing hilarious, so whenever you put him in a swing, you get the following reaction:

He's also recently discovered his tongue and is always sticking it out/touching the tip of his tongue to his upper lip which is freaking hilarious (and a precursor to being able to make "l" sounds, methinks?) He's been a bit of a mega fuss lately and he's been gnawing on anything in sight, so I think more teeth are imminent. I'm going to miss the just-the-bottom-two action because it's so freakin' cute...but I suppose I can't relegate my child to a life of gumming food for my personal amusement. Besides, what's cute in childhood is faces-of-meth in adulthood.

Sunday was a perfect day. It was the first day in a loooooooooooong time (maybe all year) when we could set our own schedule, do things on our own time, where we didn't have school/work-related stuff that we HAD to do occupying our time. And it was STILL productive! (C'mon, you didn't really think there could be a perfect day without SOME productivity, do you?) We still cleaned the house and got dinner ready and set up the a/c - but it was our choice when/how these things were accomplished. And it was interspersed with big stretches of being together and enjoying ourselves and leisure. The perfect balance, seriously. I don't really get how people who DON'T have work they bring home or who AREN'T doing a Master's degree on their maternity leave have any excuses not to get shiz done.

We had Lolly over for dinner and I made us a mezes meal of: fattoush salad, baba ghanouj, fried haloumi, charmoula-spiced beef strips, warmed pitas, and purchased crab, asiago & wasabi dip from Leslieville Cheese Market. Delicious!

For dessert I made us a coconut-lime semifreddo, which was easy and delicious (I'll post the recipe at the end). So good! My only quibble is that I found it a little too sweet, so I might reduce the condensed milk by half. I'll reproduce the recipe as I found it - since I haven't tried reducing the condensed milk and can't vouch for how that might affect the texture - it was cool, creamy, spiked with lime's brightness with chewy bites of toasted coconut for texture. Soooo good:

Today the plan is to take the Big Yam to the drop-in centre, get some school work done, and make us a tasty dinner. I went for a run this morning and I'm going to follow it up with yoga in the afternoon and maybe some catch tonight in the dusk. The Dotytron and I have a new plan to keep us on track, fitness wise...we're fake boot camping. We're basically going to put the money we would have spent on boot camp in a pot and just make sure we work out for the same amount of time (3 hours/week) pushing ourselves but doing our own activities (ie. I'm not into circuit training, so I'm going to do a mix of cardio and yoga), and if we keep it up all summer we're going to spend that money on something we want. We'll see how this goes!

Fin.

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

Coconut Lime Semifreddo

adapted from Martha Stewart's Everyday Food Magazine

serves around 8-10

1 can of coconut milk

1 can of condensed milk

zest of 2 limes

1/2 t. salt

1 1/2 c. of cold whipping cream

1 c. of unsweetened, shredded coconut

- line a loaf pan with plastic wrap, making sure there is overhang on all sides

- toast the coconut in a 375F degree oven for 10 minutes, or until evenly golden brown, stirring every 3 minutes or so to make sure it toasts evenly

- heat the coconut milk and condensed milk in a pot over medium heat until it comes to a boil, reduce the heat and simmer for about 10 minutes or until thickened

- remove the milk mixture, stir in the lime zest, and about 1/2 c. of the toasted coconut, and set aside until cool and no longer warm to the touch (you can stick it in the fridge)

- whip the whipping cream until stiff peaks form, and then fold in the cooled coconut mixture until pretty evenly mixed

- pour the mixture into the prepared loaf pan, sprinkle the top with the remaining 1/2 c. of toasted coconut and wrap the top with plastic wrap.

- freeze for 6 hours or overnight until firm.

- before serving, take it out to room temperature for 20 minutes, unmold onto a platter, slice and serve

Cold front moving in

...and we couldn't be more thankful in the un-central a/c confines of one lil' ugmo. We keep holding off on installing central because these old, 100 year old houses have awful duct work and everyone on our street says that it doesn't get up to the second floor, which is where you need it anyway. The bottom floor of the house stays nice and cool, due in part to the long, narrow shape of the floor plan, which prevents a lot of natural light coming in. To counteract the ducting inefficiencies, people either spend a fortune upgrading their duct work or buy MONSTROUS a/c units that are actually much bigger (not to mention freakin' ugly) than their actual square footage requires. It kind of hurts the environmentalist in me.

Our solution is going to be window units, which are admittedly also ugly, but aren't a permanent fixture. One in the master, one in the Big Yam's room that we'll turn on an hour before we go to bed and then turn off in the morning, supplemented with some fan action to circulate the air. I just don't think it's worth it right now to go central, especially when you only need it for like, what...20 days the whole summer? Considering we're going to be away from home for 24 days out of 90, and it's already mid-June and there have only been maybe 4 days so far where it was really necessary, I feel it fails the cost-benefit analysis. Besides, I've already shown what an Omega woman I can be buy toughing it out last summer while knocked up. This summer is gonna be cinchy.

I am grateful that there's a blissful cold front that's moved in that's whisked away the humidity and knocked the temperature down by 10 degrees. Love it! We've got the windows open and the house smells fresh and clean with the freshly cut grass from next door wafting in.

We've also been reduced to doing this to the poor Big Yam in lieu of a/c. I say "reduced" but it's hardly like I'm being forced to, because I personally think he looks hilarious in his owl of Ga'hoole/wet do-rag/Scarborough a/c look:

I'm going to take a fairly controversial position here and say that the David Simon-helmed Treme, about post-Katrina New Orleans (in the 9th ward and beyond) is a finer, more compelling show than The Wire. I think overall, it's more sophisticated, nuanced, and better written. Which is not to say that I do not still love The Wire - when you're talking about David Simon television, it's really splitting hairs - like comparing Five Guys Burgers and The Burger's Priest - two equally fantastic options.

It's easy for people to talk about and laud The Wire, which trades on familiar tropes - cops, drugs, the cultural capital of a certain depiction of black masculinity against an urban backdrop - this all contributes to the "cool" factor of The Wire. Gangs, shootings, the crumbling American public school system, the corruption of politics and mainstream media and the dereliction of duty by those in power to the underclass are all the stuff of life, yes, but also lurid parts of the contemporary, urban, left-leaning narrative and subject to romanticisation because of their omni-presence. While David Simon and the writers on The Wire are adept at side-stepping clichés and subverting traditional expectations of racial/sociological/economic interactions, I still think that they were guilty of this to some extent in The Wire. There were still some "stock" characters in the show and stock situations and c'mon - that final fifth season really left a sour taste in my mouth. I think it will always be easier for leftist non-black urbanites to fetishize black urban culture.

This brings me to Treme which situates the view in a scenario - New Orleans post-Katrina (the first season takes place approximately 6 months after, the 2nd season about 14 months after) and then gets down to the truly knitty-gritty of life across a wide cross-section of society with a sprawling, loosely interconnected cast of fully realized characters. The politicization is much subtler in Treme - this isn't a sociology 101 primer about the continued subjugation of the black underclass in America. The scope is much wider, too. The format of The Wire, with each season focusing on a different area - resulted in a much more high-level examination of the big issues - whereas Treme is about the living, the loving, the losing, against the backdrop of this rich, teeming, city - laden with history, culture, and the intersection and mixing of all that.

It's also about the creative process - the music of New Orleans and the traditions of swing and the high culture/low culture dialectic are fleshed out in the messy, complicated way that conversations about cultural appropriation and the native insider (who is allowed to criticize? Music critics in NYC, or the native son?) inevitably go. The Dotytron and I are suckers for the show - how can we not be? The music in Treme is outstanding and there's a big food element as well, through the vehicle of a New Orleans chef that is now trying to make her way in the NYC restaurant scene. Maybe it's my ignorance - I never knew about the "second line" - but what a tradition!

ANYWAY, in my humble opinion, Treme is better than The Wire and people should be flapping their gums about it more.

Tonight I'm making a "white" pizza of proscuitto, arugala mozzarella and ricotta as a pre-game meal. So pumped for softball!!!

Fin.

Ahhhhhhhh summer

Is there anything better? I'm looking at our calendar and so thrilled with upcoming events/hangs/activities that I feel like I'm going to burst into a million rainbows.

I'm full to bursting! Not much time to post much detail, but I had a lovely visit with my friend D today (where she was a trooper and drove in from Oakville to visit with me and then because the Big Yam was napping I made her help me with such fascinating, urban tasks as pumping up the tires on my Chariot) and now we're off to Markham to celebrate Poh Poh's birthday.

The Chariot is pretty slick. I am EXTREMELY grateful for my enclosed porch though...that thing is a bit of a beast. We took it for a test run to our local library and back and it's fantastic - I'm not going to say that I didn't notice the extra weight when I was going uphill, but it's a well designed, well engineered machine.

This is Tuesday night's dinner of a veggie coconut curry (I cheated and used purchased curry powder) with a billion bamboo shoots over brown rice:

This is a quinoa salad I made. It's quinoa, tossed with roasted asparagus spears cut into 1" pieces, chunks of medium-boiled egg, some avocado, and all bound together with a scallion-roasted garlic mayonnaise I whipped together with my immersion blender. I over seasoned it a bit so it was salty on its own, but then I mixed it with leftover brown rice which cut down the salinity AND made it a healthier, more complete meal. It made for perfect, make-ahead, hot weather sustenance:

Anyway, Bruce Wayne is here, I gotta flash!

Fin.