Around the world ...

Ethnic was definitely the flavour of my last visit with my guy.

After an eventful trip to Montreal, marked by numerous delays (one spent chatting with Bill Paxton), cancellations and culminating with the airline sending his luggage to Toronto, my sweetie finally arrived.

Bill Paxton at LAX

Watching him (my sweetie, not Bill Paxton!) approach me, I noticed a marked absence of a Canadian staple - a winter jacket. Despite having grown up in this arctic climate, he decided to jam his jacket into his luggage and this Cali boy was now left to deal with temperatures of almost -7C in nothing more than a long sleeved shirt. After picking up the rental car and checking in at the hotel, we were told that because of the late hour, the bar, restaurant and room service had all closed for the night. He did, however, suggest that we head to the House of Jazz,only about a block away.

House of Jazz

We scampered over through the cold and made it just before the kitchen there shut down ... no big whoop since the food was just meh but the ambiance, the décor and of course, the music was amazing. The entertainment that evening was provided by the Dawn Tyler Watson Jazz Project and she was just terrific. Later, Snooky and the Bandits closed up the evening and they are definitely worth returning for.

Snooky and the Bandits 

The next morning brought the arrival of the errant luggage and we eventually headed out to the old neighborhood, properly dressed for a Quebec winter. We stopped in at Zytynsky's, where Angel set us up with some fantastic kobassa and fresh rye bread. We then headed to the Polish home and had a lovely visit with my guy's babcia, where she thoroughly enjoyed her snack. Later, we made a quickie stop in to Rockaberry's - I had been experiencing an incredible lemon meringue pie craving for a couple of weeks that desperately needed satiating! I tucked the dessert away for later because it was time to head off to make our dinner reservations. Whoa! Le Nil Bleu is truly an experience not to be missed! This restaurant serves Ethiopian cuisine that you eat sans cutlery. After going through an interesting menu, we settled on a platter for two consisting of four offerings - yesiga alicha (marinated beef cooked with potatoes and carrots in a mildly spiced sauce flavoured with green peppers and ginger root), doro alica (chicken in their special house seasoning sauce), yebeg key watt (lamb in berbere sauce) and yemesser watt (lentils in a mild sauce) - to be washed down with a delicious bottle of African red. After bringing you a hot, wet napkin (the kind you would normally spread over your lap), the platter of food is delivered to your table. The food is spread out over a large, flat, spongy Ethiopian pancake called injera, made from an iron-rich grain called teff. The pancake is also served along with the meal, rolled up and cut into manageable pieces, with which you scoop up the food and sop up the sauces. The whole experience is amazing ... it is very laid back and reminiscent of childhood to be eating everything with your hands but at the same time, a very intimate and sensual experience. Definitely something I would recommend and Le Nil Bleu is the place to try it out. And dessert? The lemon meringue pie - shared back in our hotel room after a nightcap at the hotel bar - was simply sublime!

The following day, after the required stop at Lafleur's, we hit the road for the hideaway. This time, we spent more time there as homebodies, cooking up a storm and watching a slew of movies.

My baby made homemade pizza ... with extra cheese! Awesome!!!

Of course, there was the dress up date night, this time at Scaramouche. The place was jumping with business men but we were squirreled away at a table that afforded us a lovely view of the CN Tower in the distance. Our server had us pegged from the get go and afforded us ample time to leisurely handhold our way through our cocktails and peruse the menu. My guy had the house smoked salmon (served with radish and cucumber, horseradish crème fraîche, salmon parfait, fingerling crisps, and lovage cress) while I chose the dungeness crab ravioli - a large offering crammed full of filling and accompanied by a seared sea scallop, mustard greens, bok choy and radish, all atop a sea of lobster sauce that I would have gladly licked my plate clean of if I thought no one would have been looking! We then moved on to halibut for the gentleman and for myself, more sea scallops - this time pan seared and settled on a leek potato purée and accompanied by salsify, puntarella, celery, bacon gremolata, Meyer lemon relish, and veal jus. Honestly, I had a mouthgasm. Multiple mouthgasms. Thankfully, they were all restrained. And dessert? Well, between the atmosphere, the company, the food and the wine, dessert somehow went by the wayside ... but the evening still ended on a sweet note!

My sea scallops ... I miss them already!

Another day, we made it onto the Danforth in Toronto and lunched at Kalyvia, a really great Greek restaurant. Saganaki, souvlaki platters and hot tea helped to ward off the chill that day and everything was deee-licious! We popped in to an organic market to pick up a few things but left just as quickly. Between not being able to find any ricotta, the almost $7/dozen for eggs (and I only needed 1!), me snickering at all the 'interesting' food choices (Rice Dream Ice Cream? Seriously?) and the hoards of 'granolas' (as we affectionately call them here in Quebec), I had enough of the place!

A shopper at the organic market ... ummm, it's a MALE shopper! Yes, that's a freakin' braid!!!

As we walked back to the car, my eye was caught by a whimsical window display of old time lunch boxes ... I just had to go in! The place is Sucker's, a candy emporium. No,'emporium' is an understatement. Imagine traveling back to your childhood on acid ... that is this store! Floor to ceiling displays of every candy you can remember and many that you had even forgotten that you had forgotten! (Remember Lucky Elephant Pink Candy Popcorn? FLASHBACK!) We were there forever, reminiscing and reliving memories. I picked up a couple of things for Julia and found out later that my guy has never had Pop Rocks! He has now! (Hehehe. 'Nuff said!)

Our last night at the hideaway was another night in. I was really excited because it was 'gnocchi night'. And not just 'eat gnocchi night', it was 'make gnocchi night'. I had wanted to make gnocchi for the longest time and we finally did. For those of you who haven't, you must try it. It was both one of the easiest to make and best things I have ever made. Seriously ... the results far surpass the very limited effort expended. Scrumptious!

You gotta make this!

And now the wait is on for the next adventure. Destination picked, tickets bought ...I'm SOOOOO excited!!!

Out with the old ...

While I no longer make any New Year's resolutions (I never maintain them for more than 2 weeks, tops!), there is a feeling of turning the page with each January 1. This year, I'm continuing with the decision I made last year to de-clutter my life. If it isn't beautiful, useful or it doesn't bring me joy, it's outta here!

The first week of the new year saw me haul several bags of clothing to the neighborhood Société de St-Vincent-de-Paul. I then tackled a bookcase that was bursting at the seams (but there are more to follow!) and made up a box that I'll drop off at the hospital the next time that I'm in town. (Yeah, there are closer hospitals but a donation to them would result in raised eyebrows at my anglo literary offerings.) I've set aside stuff for the boys that they can hopefully use - a sneaky way of getting rid of even more stuff! Then there was the miscellaneous junk (and frankly, I can't explain how much of it even got under my roof!) ... a green pocketknife, some DVD's I don't remember ever buying, some t-shirts (buh bye Boss! and more cowbells? How about NO MORE cowbells!), company emblem sweatshirts, a jean shirt (I sent that one back to the 80's where it belongs!) and a mismatched pair of knitted slippers (who even uses Phentex yarn anymore?!?) I also went through my jewelry box and dumped some stuff from there too ... old earrings and bracelets, necklaces and brooches and some ring that looked like a wedding band. (Interesting, considering I've never been wed!) It's very cathartic to dump crap you no longer want or have any use for, especially when you have no sentimental tie to it.

Do, did, done!

You + me = 5000!

A lil over 16 months ago, I started this blog (my second), simply to have a place to voice my thoughts, share my opinions and even rant and rave about this and that on occasion. In the time since, I have somehow managed to amass 5,000 views. Whether this is a big deal or not in the blogging world, it's a big deal to me. To those who have passed by to take a peek, I say thank you. To those who make a point of regularly keeping up with me and my world, I also say thank you. I am both flattered and humbled by your attention.

My fight against literary progress ...

I have had a lifelong love affair with books. I was read to by my parents, as are most children; later, I sat at Miss Gilpin's feet during story time in my kindergarten class. Learning to read on my own was having a door open to endless adventures in limitless worlds. I read during every waking moment; if it included a printed word, I read it. Shampoo bottles while I was in the bath, cereal boxes during breakfast, signs in store windows on my way to school, billboards as my parents drove me around. The end of the school year meant a trip to the local library to load up with enough books to last the summer, although they never did. The time spent looking over the many shelves full of choices, finally making my decisions, watching my library card being stamped before carrying the armload of books to the car are memories I still hold dear. Not being able to wait to reach our destination, I would read in the car, much to my parents' chagrin. 'Put that book down! You'll ruin your eyes reading in the car! Look at the scenery instead!'

I still have a few of those books from my childhood, along with a lot of others I haven't been able to part with. The rest have been donated to schools, hospitals or given away to friends or family - a chance to entertain others after their work with me was done. I have thrown away 4 books in my lifetime. I pained me greatly at the time, but they had somehow become wet and developed mold, making it impossible to pass them along to anyone.

I still get a rush when I walk into a library or a bookstore. The possibilities that stretch out in all those rows of books is exciting! I can spend hours roaming the aisles of Chapter's, poring over the the laden shelves, switching my attention from fiction to autobiographies to cookbooks to travel to the classics to children's books ... well, most every subject available, frankly. Then, arms laden with my choices, I stand in line, much as I did years before as a child, waiting to get home and start reading.

A while back, I met a really special guy who is perfect in every way. We agree on everything. Wellllllll ... almost everything. This guy is green. He recycles, has e-subscriptions to all his periodicals, and is a huge proponent of reading books off his iPad.

Ewwwwww! Ick ick ick!!! Phooey! Blech and boooooooooooo!!!

To my mind, part of the pleasure I take out of reading is the feeling of holding the book, the tactile sensation of turning the pages, the auditory sensation of hearing the pages turn, the olfactory sensation of either that new book ink smell or that slightly musty old book smell. Nothing can replace the heft of a hardcover book and no tablet, while certainly able to replicate the sound of a turning page, will convince me that brushing my fingertip against a pane of cold glass is the same as the feel of a real page under that same fingertip.

So we have an ongoing dispute that comes up every so often, usually brought up when he whips out his iPad or when I dig into my carry on for a real book. We have accepted that neither person's opinion is likely to change, even though he still believes that I will buckle and convert. (Don't hold your breath, m'love!)

So, how do you prefer your written word? Old school or the new fangled way? Leave your comments below and hopefully, I will be able to prove to him that technology hasn't won over on this subject!

... and none for me either!

Best date ever!

I'm sure that like me, you have been on some pretty retched dates. Outings, that either because of the company or the activity, make you wince when you recall them now. (One of mine? RL in my days at CEGEP. Smart and handsome, he asked me out and we met for drinks. After the waitress (because that's what they were called back in the old days!) deposited our beverages and quoted the amount due, RL sat there like a stone. I looked at him, up at the waitress, back at him, back to the waitress and back at him. I could almost hear the hands on a clock marking the seconds in my head as we all waited for something to happen. Yes, crickets were chirping! He finally reached into his back pocket for his wallet and paid the tab. After the waitress walked away, he calmly asked, 'So, am I going to have to pay for your drinks ALL night?' Wow. HE asked ME out. And back in those days, guys paid on dates! I'm not sure I overcame the feeling of being stunned for the rest of the evening and frankly, it couldn't have ended fast enough. Despite it all, amazingly, he tried to get it on with me in the Boulevard Shopping Center parking lot before depositing me at home. Yeah, like THAT was going to happen!)

Best dates? I'm lucky to be able to say that I have quite a few to look back fondly on, especially recently. My latest was just a lil while back. My son, Jordan, came home and asked me if I'd like to accompany him to the car show. My heart melted! I have a 20 year old son who actually wants to spend time with me! In public! Without me having to beg him to do so! And he knew it was an outing that I'd really appreciate! If you're a woman who has raised young men, you know I'm not exaggerating at how touched I was/am.

That Saturday, Jordan, his girlfriend Érika and I made our way down to the Palais de Congrès (truly the ugliest building in all on Montreal ... don't get me started!) via the metro. I sat down while Jordan and Érika stood and we had only made two stops before I became aware of a drunk sitting behind me, one seat over. At that same moment, a blind man got on and I quickly gave him my seat. The drunk continued both sides of his own lil conversation, pausing often to chortle at some hilarious thing he had said. It wasn't long before he weaved his way over and plopped down beside the blind guy, somehow managing not to stumble over the guide dog on the floor. Having found a rather captive audience, he did what all drunks do ... he threw his arm around the man and proceeded to loudly talk to him from about 3/4 of an inch away. All the passengers watched uncomfortably and it was then that the kids and I noticed the huge wet stain on the front of the drunk's pants. One o'clock in the afternoon and someone is already drunk enough to piss themselves. Wow. Eventually, the blind guy got up and the drunk then started drinking out of the biggest beer bottle I've ever seen that he had hidden in his jacket. A few stop later, the drunk got up and waited patiently for the door to open; he didn't get out but a young woman got on and sat down in the seat he had been sitting in only moments before. Yeah, in those nasty pissy pants of his. I swore at that moment to never ever EVER sit down in the metro again! At our stop, the drunk disembarked as well and dragged himself up the stairs, losing himself in the huge crowd.

I-I-I shwear! You're my new besht friend, sherioushly!

Everyone and their brother had decided to go to the car show that day. But it was amazing! Gorgeous, hot cars everywhere! Twice, I was approached by salesmen, who I quickly handed off to my own car salesman son. Bonus! It was fun being there with a man who is actually knowledgeable about cars - kind of like having my own personal tour guide!

Lotus Exige 

Lamboghini Aventador

Aston Martin

Subaru BRZ

Honda CRX  (this one made me miss my old car)

Bugatti Veyron

Jordan in his 'Gawd, I hope to own one of these one these days' BMW 135

Nissan's electric race car

Ferrari

It was such an enjoyable afternoon. But I would have been just as thrilled with a walk around the block or a trip to the supermarket.

Because my son asked me to spend the afternoon with him.

Home Sweet Home

I've always believed that it's not what you do or where you are but rather the company you keep that decides how much fun you have. My most recent trip certainly underlined that for me.

My honey had me meet him in Toronto again but this time, with a twist. Rather than doing the hotel thing the way we typically do, he rented a small house for us to share. It was a great opportunity for us to relax and feel like homebodies. It was also a chance for us to cook together again, something we haven't had an opportunity to do since I had visited him in California. After meeting up at the airport, we headed to the hideaway in Newmarket. It was a lovely lil home - living room, bedroom, washroom and kitchen. We dropped off our bags and headed out for a bite at the Lion & Firkin. Back at the hideaway, we called it a day. The following day, after tending to some business, my honey took me to The Stockyards for a late lunch. If you want funky, quirky and offbeat with a side order of some of the bestest food you can imagine, this is the place to visit. It's a small place, crammed with what I gathered was a very loyal clientele who are more than willing to wait patiently for seating to become available. There are a few places at the front of the joint but mostly, you'll find yourself plopping down at the long counter that faces the grill or at the long counter that faces the wall. (Any thought of lingering is counteracted by the fact that you're seated on stools while rubbing elbows with strangers - it's definitely an eat-and-vacate kind of place. For those not wanting to soak in the atmosphere, they were also doing a spirited take-out business.) While waiting to be seated, we decided on what to order, cutting down on the already short waiting time to receive your food. I went with the Butter Burger, described as 'bone marrow blue cheese, red wine butter, onion frites, and butter lettuce'. My honey had a Pulled Pork Sammy ('slow smoked, BBQ sauce, and slaw on a store-bought squishy'), with a side order or cole slaw and fresh cut fries. (They also sell old fashioned pop in glass bottles. I had a black cherry pop, possibly the best I've ever had in my whole life.) The food was beyond fantastic. This is a place definitely worth visiting ... and then revisiting! Once we were done, we crossed the drizzly street and popped into World Class Bakers. (They don't have a website but can be found at 690 St Clair Avenue West.) The place is a gem, offering both baked goods and hot meals and sides available for take out, or, if you have the time, you can consume them on site in the café/bistro area.) Definitely a place I want to revisit on an empty stomach! We then headed to the supermarket to pick up some foodstuffs, where we encountered a guy who took the idea of 'dashing out to the market to grab something real quick' to a new level. Mock turtleneck, loafers .. and pyjama pants!

She looks really impressed at the addition of dress shoes to his sleeping attire!

We headed back to the hideaway, threw on some dinner music and started on supper. Being in no rush, we took a couple of slow dancing breaks before finally settling down to our repast ...

Stuffed chicken breasts and sautéed vegetables ... and vino, of course!

Sunday - a lil more work and then supper at Al Casale. My salmon was really good but my honey's linguine with lobster was to die for! Another lovely meal and a terrific evening, made all the better for the company I kept. The next evening was another evening in. On the menu, succulent souvlaki brochettes, fabulous tzatziki sauce (both from Copari Meats, a Newmarket butcher), Greek salad, garlic bread and a bottle of wine. Hopa! The next evening, Tuesday, we hit the movies. Arriving early, we settled into a theatre where there were five other people. There were only two guys there, my guy and another dude. We watched as people drifted in - all women and in groups of anywhere from 2-5 at a time. From time to time, a guy would walk in with his girlfriend or wife but when all was said and done and the theatre was filled to capacity, there was a grand total of 7 men there. It was weird! Anyhow, the film was Extremely Loud And Incredibly Close. While it was a great film and one I would strongly recommend, I was completely blown away by Thomas Horn, a 12 yr old actor who plays the 11 yr old son in the movie. This kid is a veritable wonder to watch. He so totally carried this film that you forgot Tom Hanks and Sandra Bullock were also in it! It's incredibly unfortunate that he wasn't nominated for an Oscar because he is so deserving of the award. Go see it. Go see it! GO SEE IT!!! After the movie, we went over to Moxie's for a late dinner. The waitress was a chirpy lil thing who wafted back and forth on a cloud of 'Hot Couture' perfume (her pronunciation, not mine) and insisted on making us her version of Appletinis, which was nice because she made us an extra large batch! Wednesday was 'empty the fridge cuz we're having leftovers' night - scrambled eggs with sun dried tomatoes and basil, pork brochettes and salad. Scrumptious! 

And he does dishes ... how perfect!

Thursday night, we ventured into the city for an evening at Lee, where we celebrated Winterlicious, a winter foodie celebration. We started with butternut squash soup with cucumber ginger and cinnamon wildflower honey, followed by pot stickers with salted chilies. We went on to feast on slow braised beef with sour cream, served with potato leek purée and crispy shallots followed by ginger and onion crusted mahi mahi, aloo gobi croquette and lemongrass vinaigrette. We ended with a warm chocolate banana cake and a crème brulée. The experience was really nice (the food was great) but the evening was marred by the simple fact that the noise level at this place is simply deafening. Thursday's on a Friday is quieter than this place was! As more patrons arrived, the noise level went up; the people in charge would then raise the level of the music, which would then force people to speak even louder. Reading lips would have been a much appreciated talent, because it was near impossible to hear what was being said from across the tiny table. A pity.

The next morning, my honey left the hideaway for work but promptly returned from Tim's with a tea and toasted bagel for me. What a sweetie! We left later that day for our flight back to Montreal, where once again, the flight attendant fawned over him while almost ignoring me. (*batting her lashes at my guy* Can I get you something to drink, sir? Diet Coke? I just got back from Paris - they call it Coca Lite there, so I'll call it Coca Lite for you, ok? *barely glancing over at me* Oh yeah, do you want something?) Charming! Arriving in Montreal, we pick up the rental and head to the Omni, a trip down memory lane for my guy, who worked there three decades ago during its existence as The Four Seasons Hotel. We headed over to Prince Arthur Street (which is really quite sad and lonely street on a windy, winter evening) and dined at Mazurka. After starting with a bowl of kapusniak (it was excellent), we dove into plates of perohy, plyatsky, bigos, holubsti, and a kobassa-type of sausage (the stand out was the plyatsky - fluffy and crisp and totally delectable!) Add to all that a healthy serving of sour cream and you had two very happy people. (Note to those never having been to Mazurka - the décor isn't trendy, the service is very basic but the prices are cheap by today's standards and the food is just like your baba used to make. To that point, there was a baba sitting toward the back of the restaurant who gave us the once over in the way that only Eastern European babas can do and then promptly hopped up to hustle into the kitchen as soon as we gave our order.) Back at the hotel, we stopped for a nightcap at the hotel bar, where my fellow reminisced with the barman. The following day, we made a quick stop at Zytynsky's to see Angel. After explaining that we were headed to visit my guy's babcia at the Polish home, she made us up a lovely lil take away of deli meat and some rye bread, which Babcia inhaled after we got there, leaving her supper to be ignored on the tray. (If you don't shop at Angel's, you are missing out on some exceptional Ukie treats ... and the feeling of coming home as soon as you walk through the doors.) After a lovely visit with Babcia, we picked up Julia and met Jordan and Érika for dinner at Arahova. The evening was a lot of fun but would have been made more so had Kevin and Myriam not been too ill to join us. Oh well, next time!

Sadly, the next day, Sunday, was also flyday. And now here's me, counting down to the next adventure!

Bygones ...

I never thought that I would be giving this subject more than a passing thought, much less take the time to blog about it but frankly, I’m getting fed up. I really think that it’s time to get off the ‘Let’s bash Chris Brown’ wagon, people. Yes, he did a bad. He did a very very bad. In the three years since, he has displayed remorse and submitted himself to court ordered punishment. So when is enough enough? His recent win at the Grammys has been decried by both his peers and those outside the business. Having listened to the CD more than once (thanks to my daughter being an ardent CB fan), I personally think he was deserving of the award. Everyone is also up in arms at his having been allowed to perform twice during the Grammy show. Obviously, the show’s organizers believe it’s time he return. And if you watched his performance, it is hard to deny that the boy is talented.

Again, I am not condoning his actions. I believe any man who raises his hand to a woman is a coward and a real dick and should have the crap beaten out of him by any male friends or family of the female victim. But should Chris Brown be denied a career as a result of being stoopid in that moment? I don’t believe he should. If you do, perhaps a reminder of these following incidents will show how easy the public is to forgive some for the perpetrators' trespasses …

R Kelly starred in a sex tape with a 14 yr old, Since the 2002 incident, his career has continued and he has garnered several awards.

Sean Penn assaulted his then wife, Madonna. Today, he’s a respected actor, director, screenwriter and activist.

Roman Polanski drugged and raped a 13 year old, fled the US in 1978 before he was sentenced and has continued to sustain his career from afar, continuing to win awards for his work.

Sugar Ray Leonard beat his wife but was still recently chosen to appear on Dancing with the Stars.

Jerry Lee Lewis was 22 when he married his 13 year old cousin (although he insisted she was 15, because THAT made it better!) but went on to have a huge rock ‘n roll career, garnering several accolades.

Jimmy Page was 28 while having an affair with a 14 year old but sustained his fame as Led Zeppelin’s guitarist.

Tupak Shakur spent time behind bars for his part in a gang-rape but his estate continues to make money years after his death.

Michael Jackson, accused pedophile who avoided prosecution by paying off the families of his young victims, is still revered as the King of Pop.

Whitney Houston, known drug abuser, is being honoured worldwide since her death.

Eminem, accused of domestic abuse, sings about murdering his wife and violence against gays and yet continues a very lucrative career.

James Brown was convicted of battering TWO of his wives but was still presented with Kennedy Center honours.

Kobe Bryant, accused of rape, settled the civil suit out of court and is still continues to play professional basketball.

Steven Tyler had an affair with a 15 yr old, has sustained a rock career and embarked on a reality show career.

And the list goes on, but I'm thinking my point is made. 

Southern Hospitality

I hate winter. I hate the bitter cold, the dirty slush, the wind whipping up the snow, the added weight and girth of outdoor winter wear, the time involved in donning all said outdoor winter wear, the bare trees, the dirty cars, hazardous road conditions, the racing around involved in avoiding the sub-zero temps and the sheer length of the all around nasty season.

Yeah, I hate winter. So give me a chance to escape it and I'm all in. Add my honey to the mix and I'm even more in, if that is even possible. Time in Atlanta? Sign me up. (And he did!) I left my winter jacket behind with Julia after she dropped me off at Dorval and headed off to some much needed warmth, relatively speaking. After my sweetie's flight arrived, we headed to the hotel; once there, he decided we should do room service, so we settled in to a fantastic indoor picnic. The next day, I was treated to a most excellent surprise - plans had been made for me to enjoy an hour long facial and hour and a half long massage at the hotel's on site spa. Holy smackamoly! I was SO spoiled and drifted back to my room on a sea of complete and utter bliss! The intimate spa is just divine, uses organic products and the service is both warm and professional. If you go, ask for Pamela - she is exceptional at her craft and if I ever win the lottery, I will fly her out to wherever I am weekly! Later that evening, we made our way to the movies and caught a showing of The Artist, a silent, black & white wonder. If you have already seen it, I don't need to explain how good it is. If you haven't yet, you are truly missing a pure gem! Go see it - you will quickly forget that there is no dialogue and be taken in by the story and talent with which it is presented. (Look for the stairway scene - it was our fave!) Later, we enjoyed a late dinner at Rain, a terrific Thai restaurant. We devoured the kai satay and then made our way through their steamed sea bass with ginger, pad thai, and a chicken dish that I cannot remember the name of, prolly due to the raspberry martinis and bottle of wine we also enjoyed! We popped in to the hotel bar for a nightcap before heading upstairs ... and thus ended a truly spectacular day. Thank you, baby!  ❤ 

The following day, after finally hauling out of bed, I ventured out into what the locals dubbed as 'the cold'. (I found that to be really amusing as the whole time we were there, it never got below +7C!) I walked around and explored the area and reveled in 'the cold' of Atlanta. That evening, we decked ourselves out for our traditional 'dress up date', dining at Ruth's Chris Steak House. While I learned that this is a chain of over 120 restaurants located across the US and some international locations, it feels nothing like a link in a chain. Rather, it has the feel of an older, well established steak house. Posh and lowly lit, the place was filled with chattering diners. Once seated, we were treated to a jumbo shrimp starter. The shrimp, almost as big as my head, was breaded and fried crisp; light and perfectly cooked, it was a great beginning to a great meal and a really nice touch on behalf of the restaurant. I then sank myself into a Key Lime martini, sighing happily with every sip. So incredibly rich and delicious, I could have easily saved this to enjoy as a dessert replacement. While sipping on our drinks, we shared an appetizer - two jumbo lump blue crab cakes, sizzling in lemon butter. We then slowly made our way through succulent filet mignon, some fresh asparagus with creamy hollandaise, and an au gratin potato casserole with three cheese sauce. Frank, our server, was both attentive and completely unobtrusive. When we were finally finished with our wine, we decided to share a warm bread pudding with whiskey sauce, which Frank graciously offered us on the house! It was heavenly - light and not overly sweet; the whiskey sauce silky and warm. The restaurant really hit it out of the park and I would highly recommend it!

Sizzlin' Blue Crab Cakes / Bread Pudding with Whiskey Sauce

Friday, there was more more exploring, a lil shopping and s'more enjoying of the Atlanta 'winter'. I have said it before and I will say it again - there is nothing like the friendliness of the people of the south. Where else can you find joggers who smile and say 'hi' as they pass you on the sidewalk? I stopped at a red light, waiting to cross the street (yeah, they do that there! Imagine!) ... the people already waiting at the same light turn and smile, 'Hey, how y'all doin'?' You cannot set foot outside anywhere without getting a warm, fuzzy feeling from everyone around you! Dinner that night was at Maggiano's. Pomegranate martinis (ok, so I'm on a kick!), Italian sausage flat bread, Salmon Oscar for me (think salmon on a bed of orzo that has been studded with sun dried tomatoes and asparagus, all topped with a lemon-basil sauce that includes crab meat. Decadently delicious!) and stuffed jumbo shells crammed with crab, goat cheese, spinach and more deliciousness for him. We crowned the evening's meal with their mini dessert sampler - Tiramisu, Crème Brulée, Apple Crostada, New York-style Cheesecake and Chocolate Zuccotto.

Salmon Oscar

All good things must come to an end, they say (Hmm ... what do they say about marvelously fantastic things?) and this one ended much too quickly. We had our traditional stop at Chipotle before heading to the airport to catch our flights. It was an interesting airport experience - the terminal was bursting at the seams with Mary Kay reps, who had just spent 4 days at a convention in the city. Everywhere you looked, there were women made up to the nines and coiffed to the heavens, decked out in black and pink outfits and carrying matching black and pink makeup bags (which were more the size of carry on luggage). 10,000 of them ... everywhere! It was like being on another planet ... a professionally made up, tweezed, and hair sprayed planet! Arriving at Dorval, I was welcomed back into the bosom of a good ol' Quebec January, complete with howling winds, sloppy 'sloche' and the remnants of a snowfall from the days before my return.

Did I happen to mention how much I hate winter?

Sucky Santa ...

Think back to the bestest Christmas present you ever received. Everyone has at least one memory like that - I am lucky enough to have several. My childhood was filled with practical gifts like slippers and pj's but there was always that one gift that had danced through my dreams and into my letters to Santa. My treasured Thumbelina doll, my beloved horse statue, new ballet slippers ... all appeared under the tree to thrill me one Christmas after another. When the kids came along, I was rewarded with the most intricately made presents, thanks to their teachers in Switzerland, who had marvelous ideas and school budgets to match! One Christmas, 10-year old Jordan sneaked off to the neighborhood jeweler's with a friend of mine and emptied all but 10 bucks out of his bank account to buy me a gold ring. (I know because he proudly announced the cost to me before I had even torn through the wrapping.) It has never once left my finger in the decade since. A couple of years back, Julia bought me a Swarovski 'Thumper' bunny. She wanted to add to my crystal collection but she also knows how much I adore bunnies. The point here is not about the amount spent; rather, it is about the thought put into the gift. Nothing is worse than the person who pesters you on the day (week, month) before Christmas (birthday, anniversary) to know what you want to receive as a gift. To me, the most thoughtful of gifts is the one that has you wondering, 'How did they know I wanted that?' There is an art in listening to someone, the subtle clues they drop about what they like, collect, saw and drooled over, have wanted but never bought for themselves, etc. People are forever dropping clues, a lot of the time without realizing they are doing just that. The art is in listening and disciphering clues, or just plain noticing what they like.

The opposite side to this coin are the bad gifts. This being the real world, I have received a few doozies in my time. The most recent that jumps to mind is the first Christmas with an ex-boyfriend. He bought me a book and a throw (a blankie). Nice gestures when you consider that I love to read and am usually cold. Not so nice when you consider that he spent a great deal of time at the bookstore buying glorified comics and prolly only saw these items whilst he stood in line to pay for his purchases (yeah, the throw also came from the bookstore). Ok, so maybe I'm being cynical. Let's give him the benefit of the doubt and fast forward to our second Christmas together. He bought me a book and a throw. Ok, so it was a different book and a different coloured throw. It still made me feel like an afterthought and vastly lessened the appeal of the gift.

Here is a golden rule: unless she has specifically asked for it, no woman wants to receive a household appliance. I will repeat this because so many guys just don't get it: unless your wife (fiancée, girlfriend, mom, etc) actually come out and tell you that they want a Cuisinart, panini maker, blender, vacuum cleaner or anything else that will require them to expend energy to actually enjoy the 'gift', do not buy it. By extension, anything that is subtlely disguised as a gift for you - a snazzy dazzy shiny BBQ, tickets to a concert to see your favorite artist, massage oil (when everyone knows you will be receiving and not giving!), or anything that eventually gets housed in the workshop (again, unless she specifically asks you for a jigsaw, do not do it!) is not a gift, it is a sad excuse for a gift. And if you're paused at the beauty counter and wondering whether to splurge on some creams, serums, drops and stuff of the like? Two words: 'anti-ageing' guarantees another two words: death wish!

The grey area here is lingerie. Chances are good that we want some. Chances are also good that we will not wear the stuff you want us to wear, since it (more often than not) comes from Frederick's of Hollywood. (And no, the addition of 'Hollywood' doesn't make it classy lingerie, guys!) While I'm no huge fan of gift cards, if this is the route you insist on embarking upon, you might be best to make up a basket with a Visa gift card, a Luther CD, a bottle of wine and a card that suggests that she spend the money on some naughty underbits that the two of you could later appreciate together. But I still maintain that you venture forth at your own peril!

The lesson here? To a woman, it is not the wrapping, the store it came from or even the cost. It is how special your gift makes her feel. It is knowing that you put some thought into it, spent some time thinking about what she would like (and hopefully love), actually listened to what she has said ... and even some of the things she hasn't said. In the end, it is the thought that counts, after all.

So, what is the best and/or worst gift you have ever received? Post your comment below and make me green with envy .... or cringe right along with you!

They call it Long Beach ... because it's a beach ... and it's long ...

It was a short (but very sweet) trip. By extension, here is my short reporting of said trip ...

Long Beach, New York. You should go. And when you do ...

Stay here:  Allegria (and when you do, make sure you make a stop at the L'onda Lounge. And when you do, order either the White Cosmo or Smokey Margarita. And when you do, you shall surely become addicted, as we did!)

Eat here:  Grillfire (a homey restaurant with a side order of karaoke happening in another area of the joint. (Yeah, more karaoke! *eyeroll*) I had the horseradish crusted sirloin meatloaf, a serving almost as big as my head and impossible for me to finish! They also serve soft pretzels instead of bread and they end your meal by bringing you a serving of (wait for it ...) COTTON CANDY!!! Who does that?!? No one! But if you ask me, every restaurant should!) Also, try Sugo Café (and when you do, remember two words: chicken meatballs. (I've been eating meatballs all my life but the bar has definitely been lifted waaaaaaaay up!) The owner is very hands on service-wise without hovering and the food is simply delicious. I'm hoping to pry the chicken meatball recipe from his clutches in the coming weeks ... )

Go here:  Beach 'n boardwalk: the boardwalk spans 2.5 long (built in 1914 with the help of elephants!), while the beach extends an additional mile further. We found clean, white sand complete with crazy surfers braving the 45F temperature. We strolled the beach once, taunting the surf and collecting shells and the boardwalk a couple of times, in the breezy midday and in the drizzly evening ... proof that the weather matters not when the company is amazing.

The area was quaint and I would love to go back when it's busier and warmer. Or for another walk in the drizzle ...