You guys? *This* is why they created the Internet. Just try and tell me Mustachioed Derek didn't play for Australia.
XOXO
25 October 2010
18 October 2010
Alors, ma petite, vous êtes un cochon.
Many of you will have heard me rant about Canada. The rants aren't serious; I'm either suggesting they're a nation of nice-but-boring types (because they're too polite) or a nation of serial killers (because they're too polite), but underneath it all I have a lot of respect for them, what with their enlightened approach to socialised health care, human rights, and thermal underwear. But I'd never been. It didn't really interest me - most of North America doesn't really interest me - and apart from Lynley and Suze's wedding, which I had to miss for budgetary reasons, there was no great event pulling me across the border.
Enter Lynne and Laura.
Thanks to these fine ladies' intervention, I can say with certainty (and minimal ranting) that Montréal is awesome. I loved the Frenchiness of it, the pointy noses and pointy architecture set against a version of the language so old as to be all rounded edges. I loved the history and the pretty sunsets, the baked goods, the debaculous Habitat '67 that ruins an otherwise gorgeous view across the river. I loved their way with offal and their adorable 12-year-olds (of course I loved their adorable 12-years-olds, and for real, I have got some kind of problem and I need help). If it weren't for their weather, I'd seriously consider it.
Having two mad Australians to run around with helped as well. By the end of our three days there, Laura was able to say that she didn't speak French (or at least, make an interesting enough stab at it that they quickly got the point) and Lynne had more or less stopped driving us into oncoming traffic. Fortunately, each was quite strong where the other struggled, so I feel confident that they'll make it through Québec City intact. Me, I contributed little to the proceedings apart from a patchy high school-French vocabulary and an occasional plaintive murmur of 'you're drifting to the right again pull left pull left pull left [sob]' from the back seat. Oh, and I got to tell an 'ugly American' type to fuck off, loudly and in the middle of the street. Always satisfying.
Thanks for a great trip, girls. I'm going to cook my ass off for you on Thursday. :)
Enter Lynne and Laura.
Thanks to these fine ladies' intervention, I can say with certainty (and minimal ranting) that Montréal is awesome. I loved the Frenchiness of it, the pointy noses and pointy architecture set against a version of the language so old as to be all rounded edges. I loved the history and the pretty sunsets, the baked goods, the debaculous Habitat '67 that ruins an otherwise gorgeous view across the river. I loved their way with offal and their adorable 12-year-olds (of course I loved their adorable 12-years-olds, and for real, I have got some kind of problem and I need help). If it weren't for their weather, I'd seriously consider it.
Having two mad Australians to run around with helped as well. By the end of our three days there, Laura was able to say that she didn't speak French (or at least, make an interesting enough stab at it that they quickly got the point) and Lynne had more or less stopped driving us into oncoming traffic. Fortunately, each was quite strong where the other struggled, so I feel confident that they'll make it through Québec City intact. Me, I contributed little to the proceedings apart from a patchy high school-French vocabulary and an occasional plaintive murmur of 'you're drifting to the right again pull left pull left pull left [sob]' from the back seat. Oh, and I got to tell an 'ugly American' type to fuck off, loudly and in the middle of the street. Always satisfying.
Thanks for a great trip, girls. I'm going to cook my ass off for you on Thursday. :)
06 October 2010
Um, hi.
It's been too long. I know it has. I've tried to stick to an at-least-weekly posting schedule, but the last few weeks have involved a lot of feeling crazy and running around in circles, partly for real reasons and partly because my head broke. Having re-read my last few posts, I don't think that news will come as any great shock, but it's nothing to worry about - it was a quieter break, more of a blown fuse than a full-on outage. I just needed to sit in a dark corner for a while, and with that having been accomplished, I feel a bit more together.
Fall has come crashing down around us, and so far it's been cold, wet and miserable. I'm hoping the weather will pick up and give me some of those crisp, sunny autumn days that feel like apples taste, but for now it's weighing heavily on everyone. Winter's on its way, no mistake, and it's a cunt of a season. Fall also means the end of baseball (no playoff run for the Sox this year), the start of football (Tom, darling, the hair), and a whole new menu centered around butternut pumpkin. In the last week, I have seen three new recipes involving butternut, including an amazing-looking butternut lasagna, and I've had an impassioned plea for pumpkin pie from an unpindownable Floridian refugee who compensates for New England weather by charming baked goods out of people too sympathetic to refuse. She also has a very sweet dog and uses him shamelessly. (Please do not take this opportunity to list the many reasons I should know better. I do. It's out of my hands. The dog's too cute.)
In better news, Lynne and Laura are coming for a visit. They arrive on Tuesday, and we'll kick around Boston until Friday, when we'll head up to Montreal. That's right, kids, I'm off to visit our moose-strewn neighbours to the north. Never thought I'd see the day. Still, I take comfort in knowing that at least the Quebecois are smart enough not to want to be part of Canada either. Either way, I'm looking forward to having some friendly accents about the place.
And in weird food news for the day: carn the pies! I don't know if I'm shitty that they're going to be all the way over in Southie or seriously grateful that I won't have easy access to that kind of calorie bump. Either way, I'm thrilled to bits to have them.
XOXO
Fall has come crashing down around us, and so far it's been cold, wet and miserable. I'm hoping the weather will pick up and give me some of those crisp, sunny autumn days that feel like apples taste, but for now it's weighing heavily on everyone. Winter's on its way, no mistake, and it's a cunt of a season. Fall also means the end of baseball (no playoff run for the Sox this year), the start of football (Tom, darling, the hair), and a whole new menu centered around butternut pumpkin. In the last week, I have seen three new recipes involving butternut, including an amazing-looking butternut lasagna, and I've had an impassioned plea for pumpkin pie from an unpindownable Floridian refugee who compensates for New England weather by charming baked goods out of people too sympathetic to refuse. She also has a very sweet dog and uses him shamelessly. (Please do not take this opportunity to list the many reasons I should know better. I do. It's out of my hands. The dog's too cute.)
In better news, Lynne and Laura are coming for a visit. They arrive on Tuesday, and we'll kick around Boston until Friday, when we'll head up to Montreal. That's right, kids, I'm off to visit our moose-strewn neighbours to the north. Never thought I'd see the day. Still, I take comfort in knowing that at least the Quebecois are smart enough not to want to be part of Canada either. Either way, I'm looking forward to having some friendly accents about the place.
And in weird food news for the day: carn the pies! I don't know if I'm shitty that they're going to be all the way over in Southie or seriously grateful that I won't have easy access to that kind of calorie bump. Either way, I'm thrilled to bits to have them.
XOXO
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