Springtime Ambitions

So here's the goal: 31 posts for the 31 days of May, beginning tomorrow (May 1st.) Obviously. I've been intending to do something like this for quite some time now, but alas things have been more than a little hectic of late. Now that the family is all back under one roof and some semblance of routine will return to my daily life, I see no reason why such an ambition can't be realistic.

Photo from Cupcakes and Cashmere.

Go Habs Go!!!

Normally I'm not one for hockey. The season is so long, and each regular season game so insignificant that I find it difficult to get excited about. The playoffs are another story, but the trouble is I try to "cheer for the Leafs" to keep the peace at home, so to speak, and they haven't made the playoffs in years.

Holy crap though, did you guys see the Montreal/Washington game last night? I watched it (of all places) in the Providence Manor long term care facility with my grandpa. He was quite literally the only resident on his floor still awake.

I just about died when they got that penalty with two minutes left in the game, but was so happy when they won game seven against all odds!!! The real star of this game was goalie Jaroslav Halak. Without him they would definitely have lost.

Hooray, I'm so happy I've finally found a team to cheer for in the play offs!!!

Review: Cooking With Stella

It has always been something of a mystery to me why Canada, which has absolutely no problem competing with other countries in terms of literature and music, has such a difficult time producing quality movies. I liked Men With Brooms well enough, and that new Paul Gross movie looks like it could be funny. But let's face it - most of them refuse to stay away from some version of the same old tired theme: Canadians are more well-mannered than Americans. Ha. Ha. Ha.

From this perspective, Cooking With Stella is a bit of a relief. The movie tells of a diplomat named Maya who is stationed at the Canadian High Commission in India, her husband, Michael, and their Indian cook/maid, Stella. I suppose the running theme of this movie would be something like: Canadians far too well-mannered for their own good. Sigh...oh well, at least it doesn't contain any confused, arrogant American caricatures.

As a one time top chef and bored house husband, Michael must find something to occupy his attention. When Stella makes him something he likes for lunch, he (of course) gets all excited and pronounces her his "cooking guru." But don't let the initial whimsical scenes of foodie porn fool you (you know, trips to the glorious Indian version of a farmers' market, the chopping of crisp, fresh vegetables, a sizzling fry pan of some tasty-looking coconut milk based sauce...). Oh no, the title term of "cooking" really means something quite different.

It turns out, Stella is an accomplished thief, and has made an entire underground career for herself by taking advantage of the gullible good will of a long line of Canadian employers. By running a "duty free shop" and snagging the odd item from pockets and jewelry boxes, she is able to make a decent living and rise above the poverty suffered by most in her country. In a way, who could blame her? These Canadian fools barely even notice the missing items, yet they represent a fortune to Stella. This brand of satire continues throughout the entire movie, through various plot twists and conflicts, and into an almost-too-ridiculous-to-believe ending.

I feel that this movie COULD have worked, and it kind of comes close. The idea is there, but the delivery not so much. For instance, the relationship between Michael and Maya is completely flat and disjointed. There's one truly pathetic conflict scene where a combination of weak acting and downright horrible dialogue leads to confusion about what exactly is going on (i.e. are they having an argument here? What?)

That's about all I have to say about this movie. It's not the worst thing I've ever seen , but it's not great either. Oh and, if any Canadian film makers out there happen upon this post, could you please, please consider making a movie that is about Canadians, but NOT self-consciously so? 

(Actually, I have a feeling the new film Chloe might be thus...I hope to review it here soon...)

Review: Fresh

It seems weird to be reviewing a restaurant I discovered years ago for the first time. Yet I feel as though I'm an entirely different person now than I was as a student, so in a way going to Fresh was like a whole new experience. Years ago, for instance, it never, ever would have occurred to me to notice that Fresh is about 99.9% vegan, with a wide variety of gluten free options. I simply loved the food. It turns out, I still do.

As the self-proclaimed world's worst vegan, I appreciate having the opportunity to go to a restaurant and have options other than the garden salad. Eating vegan, preferably gluten free food on a regular basis makes me about 1000 times healthier than I do otherwise. (I will spare you details of why.) Yet this kind of lifestyle conflicts with the whole concept of a social life, which is why I'm the world's worst vegan.

Anyhoo, back to Fresh. To start, we split the quinoa-battered onion rings with miso gravy. They were so crunchy and decadent, I could eat a whole plate of them on my own! 

For my main, I had the (baby) dragon bowl on brown basmati rice, which included grilled tomato, zucchini, and tofu steaks with sesame seeds, cilantro, and green onions. I'm one of those people who can't get enough cilantro. Seriously, you could put cilantro on a dust bunny and I would eat and enjoy it. The dragon also had miso gravy, which was excellent although it sort of felt like miso overload after having the same dressing with the onion rings!

(By the way, I'm sorry about the crap photo quality. My little point and shoot takes some getting used to after using the DSLR so much...which I refuse to pull out in a restaurant for obvious reasons.)

Steve had the veggie burger with sweet potato fries, which were also excellent. I greatly prefer sweet potato fries to regular fries, for both the flavour and texture.

All I can say is it's a good thing Fresh is so far away from our place, or I fear I'd be there way too frequently for my own good!!!

My (3rd) Toronto Life

The first time I lived in Toronto, I was a small child. My parents were at that awkward young professional stage of their lives, and there was much more opportunity for them in the big city than there was in their home town of Kingston. I remember liking my school, and loving the house we lived in - quaint with white siding and a huge willow tree in the backyard that had a swing on it!! My best friend, Marta, lived right down the street from us, and pretty much every family in the neighbourhood had children around my age. We never tired of climbing trees, riding bikes, and drawing pictures.

My family moved to Kingston when I was seven, and I did not return to Toronto (to live, that is) until I moved there for grad school at the age of 23. Needless to say, I saw the city from an entirely different perspective that time around. Still, the experience was extremely positive. Steve and I rented a tiny condo in the heart of downtown, and enjoyed all the amenities the city has to offer. I thought I was stressed out a lot as a student, but really I had no idea what stress was. After graduating, I found myself back in Kingston while Steve attended teachers' college at Queen's. 

One hellish year ensued, followed by a slightly better one, and finally a bona fide good year, in which I refused to be a slave to the painfully limited Kingston job scene and in turn found an opportunity to pursue a career as a writer - something I had wanted to do my entire life.

Alas, things did not go quite so smoothly for Steve, who found himself stuck in a job he hated that did not use his education in any capacity. When a better opportunity came up in Toronto, he jumped at it - who can blame him? For a lot of reasons, the decision to move permanently was hard. In the end, though, I think it will be for the best. We found a beautiful place to live (off Eglington, in the Leaside neighbourhood), and there will undoubtedly be more lucrative career opportunities for me here as well.

Here are some photos of the exterior of our new place...

The animals are a little confused, but seem to like it...

I'll write more about life in Toronto soon. If anything, I should have a lot more restaurants and movies to review!!

A comma in the air

Spring is sprung

The grass is riz

I wonder where the flowers is?

Ahhh grammar. 

I've been thinking about that classic Archie comic joke quite a bit lately, and not just because the first dandelions and tree buds are finally beginning to show themselves here in Southern Ontario.

I've rambled on here before about the rampant disrespect of language found in the majority of English speaking cultures. Usually, this is a bad thing. The fact that lol, btw, and ur now basically qualify as words is upsetting. That said, there are other new words that I'm quite partial to - google (as a verb) and frugalista, for instance. In such cases, the English language is better described as malleable than disrespected, at least in my humble opinion.

Of course, new or abbreviated versions of words/phrases really have little to do with the proper use of grammar (or lack thereof.) Or do they? 

I can honestly say that I never had a formal English grammar lesson until I took a post graduate course in copy editing two and a half years ago. Everything I know about grammar and sentence structure I learned from reading, and taking note of the corrections made to my papers by teachers. Taking Latin, and learning about that language's grammatical structure also helped. 

I'm told that this is a vast change from how it was for previous generations, and gather that the education system gradually focused less and less on the skill of writing over the years. Is it any wonder that many kids today think it's alright to use "words" like ppl in their essays? I'm not necessarily condoning texting, etc, but the mere fact that this is how the kids are communicating amongst themselves certainly doesn't strike me as the root of the problem.

Yet there's a difference, I think, between being lazy about language and having fun with it. A couple days ago I had a conversation with a coworker about a high school student who referred to an apostrophe as "a comma in the air." She was horrified that this girl did not use the appropriate term for the symbol, but I wasn't so sure. Considering a lot of adults seem to lack an understanding of where to use an apostrophe in the first place, at least this girl knows how to make something possessive. Plus, I for one kind of enjoy the phrase "comma in the air." It makes the otherwise rather boring and severe punctuation mark seem so cheerful and light heated - almost like it's floating along on a warm summer breeze...

Review: Open

I feel like every other post I write anymore goes something like this: "Wow, it's been a really long time since my last post. My life is so sad and lonely, I don't feel like writing anymore because I'm simply never able to get excited about anything."

Ladies and gentleman, that ship has sailed. I've never been one for non fiction of any sort, let alone autobiographies, but Andre Agassi's book Open is one of the best things I've read in a long time. I started reading it over the Easter weekend, and it brought me comfort in the few little windows of time I had to dedicate to it during an extremely frustrating week. Even when I wasn't reading Open, I was thinking about it, plotting how I could squeeze a precious 20 minutes of reading time into my incredibly stressful days. Do you realize how long it's been since I've felt that way about a book??!!

If you follow Magic Lantern regularly, you know that I'm kind of obsessed with tennis. I love the neat, Russian nesting doll-structure of the game, the amazing psychological strength one has to possess to be good at it, and most of all the way the athletes' personalities shine through so strongly on the court. It seems pretty safe to say that few tennis players have ever showed as much personality on the court as Andre Agassi. When I first started REALLY following tennis, Agassi was one of the oldest, and most respected players out there; he was on the final run of his career, and I was consistently moved by the amount of heart he exhibited on the court. More than anyone else, he appeared to possess a deep love for the game - why else would one continue to plug away that (relatively) late in life?

As a result, I was kind of surprised to read that Andre claims to hate the game. Despite the fact that it's incredibly understandable he should feel that way considering what his father put him through as a kid, and despite the fact that this point is constantly reinforced throughout book, I never truly bought it. And I'm really not sure if you're supposed to, anyway. No matter how fascinating it is to hear Agassi's true feelings about people like Brooke Shields, Pete Sampras, and Jimmy Conners, the best parts of Open are when he dissects the matches that defined his career (in particular a nail-biting five setter against Blake I still to this day feel privileged to have watched.) It's intriguing to have that sort of insight into what that players themselves go through.

I was kind of disappointed to find out that Agassi himself did not actually write Open, yet I suppose that shouldn't come as a great surprise given he dropped out of school after grade nine. What is incredibly endearing, however, (I refuse to use the word redemptive), is the passion with which he wishes to save other children from this fate. His academy in Las Vegas allows underprivileged youth the chance to receive a top notch education and have a real opportunity to go to college. Fitting, since it is contradictions that ultimately drive this book - and arguably Andre's career itself.