It's the cow time of year

It's spring time and everyone is talking about their barbecues. Rightly so, for they are one of the culinary marvels of the world with the charred flavours bringing us back to our evolutionary roots when the fire changed everything. I'm pretty sure that when Prometheus gave fire to mortals, he did it to share the wonders of barbecue with humanity.

Barbecue season is especially sweet for me because it makes it that much easier for me to eat beef. Throughout the winter I make beef stew and chili at least once a week. Barbecue season usually kicks my consumption up to three or four times in a week and things are good. Oh so very good.

I try to eat as much beef as I can. I know that's a very strange thing to say in this vegan-organic-green era as most people are reducing their red meat consumption and apparently being insufferably better people for it. Me, I'm always looking for more.

It's not just because cow is the yummiest of all the animals that I eat it so much. It's a BIG reason, but not the only one. Cow the best way I've found to deal with being anemic. Before you start with the "just take a supplement" argument, I must let you know that I take 100mg of elemental iron a day and I am just barely passing my serum iron and ferritin tests. Just to put that in context, pregnant women are recommended 30mg daily to prevent the development of iron-deficiency anemia. The average person, 18mg. My dietican wants to bump me up to 200mg a day and I challenge anyone to take that much iron without heaving. I just do not absorb iron well.

Doctor after doctor, scientist after scientist have told me the same thing, that the most effective for me to absorb iron is through eating red meat. And that suits me just fine. Beef is a much tastier package for iron than pills are. Plus, I'm a proud carnivore and my personal health situation makes it that much more fun to thumb my nose at vegans. I realize I'm coming down on them quite a lot. I've Just been through a serious attack of the preachy vegans and I'm a tad touchy about it all.

So it's beef season then. Cows be warned, I'm out for iron and I'm hungry.

HRH

Evolving into an adult

Today was a very exciting day in my life. It was the first time that M and I had guests over to our current apartment for dinner and we were all able to sit at a table and eat like civilized human beings.

Living in a attic apartment creates all kinds of design challenges. The biggest of which has been finding a kitchen table that more than two people can sit at. Inspired by the success that Dooce had in finding a dresser on ebay, I decided to see if I could find a modern kitchen table. Just to get an idea of what was out there. Lo and behold when I typed in "modern kitchen table" I got a table and chair set, inspired or knocked off from the Harry Bertoia wire chair design. It looked perfect.



The glass table would give us a space to eat on, but wouldn't eat up all the visual space in the room, same effect with the wire chairs. Best of all, the seller was based in Toronto and offering local pickup only. Oh and the price. While this was a knock-off, it still would retail for up to $2000. The seller got it for half of that and we got it off the seller for more than half of what he paid. Super score.

After we bought it on ebay, M and Mike drove out there in two cars and collected it for us. Sadly, because life has been crazy, but good busy, we haven't had a chance to actually sit down at our mid-century modern table and see how it works.

So this evening we had Dawn and Chris over for dinner (as their spouses are both out of town), saved them from another night of toast for dinner and had them test everything out.

I am proud to report that the test was a success and, to make it even better, I got to use many of the plates and dining accessories we got from the wedding in the way in which they were intended. On a table, looking lovely.

More and more this house is starting to look like actual adults live in it. It's all rather cool.

Today's sing-a-long song: "When I grow up" by Garbage

HRH

The owls won't see us in here

On Sunday I decided that action would be the best solution for fighting off the SAD. SO while M was out freezing his tail off looking for owls, I threw on season 1 of Twin Peaks (saw some owls of my own - the owls are not what they seem) and painted a nature scene on the canvas that as sat blank in my living room for the last three years.

(Aside: Every time I watch Twin Peaks it strikes me just how much I completely adored that show and what an indelible impact it made on me)

I then baked a pie for the first time in my life. From scratch. Crust, everything. It was a pumpkin pie. My family's much renowned pumpkin pie recipe, hand written out for me by my grandmother. And while I ended up making the crust twice because I rolled out the first one too much and because I didn't have powdered ginger or powdered cloves and instead used whole ones (doh), it wasn't perfect. The crust was really good, but the filling wasn't quite right. Edible, yes, but not amazing.

Still painting and baking are much healthier uses of my weekend time than sitting on the couch feeling crappy. And maybe, with practice, I will one day be able to make a pie that will be worthy of a place in pie heaven with the ones from the Double R diner.

Today's sing-a-long song: "Dance of the dream man" by Angelo Badalamenti

HRH

The miracle of pumpkin pie

It comes as no secret that I've been a rather finicky person for most of my life. In our house growing up, it was four picky people and the few things that we all agreed were tasty we would eat in repetition. It was a house of staple foods and a champion of the Nordic palette. I never really had a problem with that, but when I met M he was all about me trying everything once, having new foods and culinary experiences.

While I'm no where near the level of food adventurer that he would like me to be, I have come a very, very long way. And I've discovered that there are a lot of things that I had ruled out of my diet without having tried for, really, no good reason at all.

For example, pumpkin pie. Never in my life had I experienced pumpkin pie until this most recent Christmas holiday. I mean, my great aunt's pumpkin pie recipe was used at the Royal York for awhile back in the 50s, and I have NEVER experienced this. So wrong.

I can't even remember why I wouldn't eat pumpkin pie. I imagine it was because I'd assumed that it actually tasted like the bits of pumpkin I would nibble on while doing Hallowe'en carvings. Sure, it was kind of like turnip, but would would want that for dessert. Also I violated my belief that vegetables have no business on your plate after dinner. But I was wrong. So wrong.

I became amenable to the idea of pumpkin pie in several phases. First, a few years back, M's mother made us a pumpkin loaf, and it tasted sweet and yummy. I learned that all things pumpkin didn't mean all things gourd-tasting. Then this summer M and I made lamb burgers (you really should try them Shaver) that were seasoned with pumpkin pie spice. Again, sweet and delicious.

Finally, being friends with Tash and Chris has given me a new appreciation for pie. I've always been a pretty dedicated cake fan and thought that having pie would be like winning runner up in a beauty pageant. Also growing up in my house we usually only had one kind of pie. Lemon meringue, because it was my sister's favourite pie (as she loves all things lemon) and I just hated it. Eventually we discovered the merits of the key lime pie after some time in the southern US. I guess it was there that I began to make my peace with pie.

I have learned that pie is good. And that I have a fondness for pies like key lime pie, chocolate pie and, most importantly pumpkin pie. Tash made pumpkin pie for our annual get together and gift exchange. It was my first pumpkin pie experience and it was as close as an atheist gets to a religious experience. Oh My GOD. If there was a religion that was all about the glory of pumpkin pie and if accepting the host at mass meant actually eating pumpkin pie, I would become a theist so fast...

Anyway, I can't believe I didn't try it sooner. I'm sure that it had been offered time and time again. So it serves as another example of me being pig-headed and stubborn about something I would really enjoy and thereby losing out on years of goodness.

At least I've learned my lesson now.

HRH

Kicking it old school

It seems that the sun has abandoned Ontario. I'm used to my sunny fall weekends to draw me out of my bed and pyjamas on the weekends, but when it's grey, it's so hard to not stay in, cook warm winter foods and wear copious amounts of flannel.

Indeed, this weekend I left the house only once to pick up the supplies I would need to make a hearty beef stew with butter biscuits baked on top, as well as the odds and sods required for a proper Sunday roast beef. Both first time cooking choices that came out splendidly I might add.

When we were packing for Prague and M's half-brother texted me asking if I could bring over some of my PlayStation games (he is ten after all) and I decided that it would just be easier to take the whole PlayStation over and give it to him (since I never play it anymore), I made a fantastic discovery in the back of our TV cabinet. I found my very old, first generation NES. Back then I didn't have the time to plug it in and give the old games a whirl, but yesterday provided me with an unprecedented amount of free time in which I could reminisce.

We plugged in the nofriendo at around noon and I don't think it was actually turned off until just before midnight. Now this is nothing compared to the marathon sessions I would play when I was a kid, but I was none the less pleased. The only games I still have are Super Mario Brothers 1,2 & 3, Rad Racer, Bubble Bobble, the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles game, the Legend of Zelda and Link.

The Nintendo had been turned on for mere seconds and we had resorted back to the "remember to play fair" rotations from our youth. I was particularly blown away by how I really hadn't forgotten many of the moves. It's like there is a section of my brain that has all the moves from the Super Mario Brothers series, the Legend of Zelda and Bubble Bobble indelibly stamped on it's grey mushy matter. It was insane. So insane that just like when I was 11-years-old, I couldn't find the second labyrinth in Zelda. I could always find all the other ones, but the second was like a black void of "I totally can't find it." M eventually had to look it up for me online. I still got to the end of the sixth labyrinth at the end of the day yesterday.

Tash and Chris came over for dinner and were soon enthralled with the old games as well. Watching eachother play and cheering on almost became as fun as playing the games ourselves. I don't usually save things, I'm the "holy crap, throw it out already" yin to M's "everything is sentimental" yang, so I'm not sure what made me hold onto my NES for so long, but I'm truly happy that it did. I guess I'm mostly a huge creature of habit, so for me, the NES is what video games are. Sure it's amazing to play things on an Xbox or a PSwhatver, but I don't have the same attachment as I do to the NES that I spent more hours than I would like to admit playing. At the very least my parents can say they got their money's worth.

Today's sing-a-long song: "Play my game" by The Donnas

Lost in the land of styrofoam peanuts and lobsters

Whomever supplies those to the Bay, must be making a killing. Seriously.

I have a problem. A semi-serious problem. I can't get my house to stop smelling of lobster. Lobster is yummy, yes, but in no way aromatic. See, we had the gang over on Sunday night for a lobster BBQ, as Chris had been out east for the week and graciously brought back three of these oh so popular bottom feeders.

The dinner was delicious. Mike thought out some fantastic side dishes and we ate like kings. We then watched Brick, which is an amazing movie that everyone has to see. It will make you want to talk like you're in a film noir and it will be hard to resist the urge to teem with angst in every waking moment you have, but it's so awesome and worth it.

Sunday, a total, yummy success. But it lingers.

I've washed all the clothes, the sheets and the towels, washed the counters and the floors, fabreezed the fabrics I can't wash, lit candles and used aromatic home sprays (ick!)... Opened windows, emptied garbages... I even threw out a skirt which, even though I didn't wear on Sunday and I washed it twice, reeked of lobster because it was with the handtowels we'd used in the kitchen on Sunday in the hamper... And still the eau de lobster remains. Should I not be able to find a way to make the smell go away, I foresee me spending Saturday scouring my home with bleach.

What could the lobster smell have gotten into... Or maybe that's what angst smells like?

Today's sing-a-long song: "Rock Lobster" by The B-52s

HRH

The power of suggestion

Every time I hear the track Planting the Seed from the Ocean's Eleven soundtrack I have the worst craving EVER for shrimp cocktail. My mind works in truly mysterious ways.

Today's sing-a-long song: "Constant Craving" by K.D. Lang

HRH

Start spreading the news

I'm not entirely sure how it happened, but I was interviewed by the New York Times a week or two ago. Not for any great deeds done or for being a generally fantastic individual. I was interviewed for being really mean when I get hungry.

And today, that interview turned into this article in the NYT by Stephanie Rosenbloom called Moody? Cranky? Tired? Feed me!. And yes, that's me the third paragraph and beyond.

HRH

Very much of the good

My mother is in town this weekend, which means copious amounts of food are being consumed, a copious amount of shopping is being done and a general overall feeling of joy and goodness has infused my days.

Also, I have more boots. I was slightly scolded by the salesman at Brown's for leaving boot shopping so late. According to him, I got lucky, since all the size 11s are usually gone in October. He even told me what months I should start my shoe shopping for summer (March! Can you believe it). However, it found exactly what I wanted. A pair of warm, lined, water proof, stylish and barely heeled winter boots. They are heavenly.

To add to all this joy, I had sushi for dinner and M is further proving that he is the best boyfriend ever by letting me watch Grease 2 on TV.

HRH