TLA

When we give from the heart, we do so out of a joy that springs forth whenever we willingly enrich a person's life.
- Marshall Rosenberg

A whole pineapple upside-down cake was baked just for me this morning and hand-delivered by my darling, dearest Main Bunny. She packed this bunny-sized skillet-cake with fresh pineapple, pureed oranges, coconut oil, ground cardamom, and Demerara sugar.

Really nothing makes me ever feel so loved as being fed.

Giving a Fig

A sun-dried Shirazi fig. Another classic Iranian snack introduced to me by Amirali, via Jules.

Just Friends

Adam and Travis out on the town at Vina del Mar, Hintonburg's spiciest new spoon.

Milky Baby

Another guy who brews a nice pot is my very own Adam. He just boils up some hot water and steeps whatever kind of loose leaf tea he finds in the cupboard. Once it cools, we keep it in the fridge, mixing it with milk and buckwheat honey or maple syrup each morning.

Chris' Coffee

Most times when I have caffeine, I either get a headache or an upset stomach. But I love the 'lift' I get from a strong cup of coffee, so - on occasion - I make an exception.

One of them is for a cuppa made by my friend Chris. A year and a half ago, he bought himself a $1300 Quick Mill Vetrano from a place in New York called Chris' Coffee. He says he chose the QMV because it's the best machine at that price point that can be fully plumbed into a water line and drain. Also, it won the 2006 Coffeegeek Editor's Choice Award, convincing Chris that this was the right machine for him.

Yet, Chris tells me that the secret to good coffee isn't the machine, but rather, the grinder. He claims that "you can make better coffee with a $300 grinder and a $5 single-cup drip pour-over than you can with a $20 blade-grinder and a $20K commercial siphon machine."

But to believe the taste of Chris' coffee, he would have to pour you one in person. Over six feet tall and lanky as a beanpole, he's got all the makings of a proper barista. While he's working the machine, he tells great gossipy stories, dropping his voice and tilting his face for dramatic effect, all the while wiping and blotting with his clean, white tea towel.

And the result is so much more satisfying than something slopped out in a paper cup by an yawning university student. When Chris finally hands you your drink, he fairly bursts with pride and surreptitiously awaits your first sip.

Stockholm 2

In my mind, there is an elevator door.
And a sculpture beyond that where I can hide.

Easy as Sandwich

cucumber, sundried tomato, and grape seed mayo on a toasted kaiser from the Portuguese Bakery

After two overwhelming and unproductive weeks back in Ottawa, I'm already craving the eat/walk/eat/sleep cycle of our vacation. Since food is often a direct way of producing any emotion worth having, I gave 'simple' a go today for lunch.

Ms. Potato Head

I wanted to use up the last of my winter potatoes this afternoon and I couldn't think of a better way than by making a spicy, creamy roasted-potato salad. So I parboiled and then steam-dried five Yukon Golds before cooking them down in a hot oven until they got dark and chewy. Once cooled, I tossed them with a clove of finely-minced garlic, three chopped green onions, a small handful of shredded basil, some sunflower oil, the juice of half a lime, a couple teaspoons of chili flakes, and just enough grape seed oil mayonnaise to make it creamy.

We'll see what the old man thinks when he gets home from practice. I bet he eats the whole container.

Gaz

Have you ever had this before? Julie asked, handing me a piece of Gaz candy, wrapped in a shiny, peach-colored wrapper. No, no I had not. Especially since, as Julie informed me, you can only get this particular brand in Iran. And in her boyfriend's hometown of Isfahan, nonetheless.

I thought they were full of cardamom and Julie guessed saffron. But as it turns out, that mysterious flavor is gaz angebin, a sweet, sticky plant residue harvested by insects and left on treetops. Also, there's a bit of rosewater mixed in, plus egg whites and pistachios. What a perfect summer chew. Maybe if I'm awfully nice to Amirali, he'll ask his Dad to bring me a whole box next time.

Training Wheels

Sarah Waterson

half-marathoner; coleslaw slinger;
rescuer of small, forgotten objects.

Surf's tough, dude

Heal up soon, Ty.

Stick a Fork In It

We're done! And now there's nothing left to do, but enjoy the spoils. Good thing I picked up these palm-sized sporks at the Dansk Design Centre in Copenhagen.

Hot, Sweet, and Greasy

These churros* from Portobello Market were chewy, chocolaty, and came in a paper cup. When something this good is bubbling away in a vat of oil right in front of you, resistance is futile.

*Thanks to Lucy for giving me the heads-up about this delicious snack. What am I gonna do without her?

Last Day

Last day in London, last day of the trip. Tomorrow morning, we fly out of Heathrow.

Yesterday, we were in heaven at Harrod's food halls, buying enough to fill an entire piece of luggage. We ended up at the Tate Modern in the afternoon, and while we had a great time, our favorite part of the afternoon was a late dinner at Leon with brown basmati, poppyseed slaw, roasted sweet potato patties, and chicken with yogurt sauce. Thanks to Bunny for tipping me off about this place.

Today though, Adam gets to see his favorite cousin, David. I expect to have a fairly soggy boyfriend by the end of the night as hanging out with David seems to increase Adam's taste for beer.

Jolly Good

Made it to London. Barely, it seemed. I had an allergic reaction on the plane. We don't know what caused it, but my face, nose, and lips swelled up considerably. Thankfully, two Benadryl fended off whatever danger I was in. Still...a scary position to be in when you're directly above the North Sea in an airbus.

But then something magical happened. We woke up in London where English is the first language and 'fisk' is deep-fried instead of pickled. Breakfast was greasy and good. We've been blowing money left and right, taking the tube all over the city, and enjoying the damp, English air.

Adam feels like he's come home.

Stockholm via Malmo

Yesterday, we took a packed commuter train to Malmo to connect to a larger passenger train to Stockholm. Arrived at Central Station last night and made it to our hotel on the underground (dubbed the longest underground art gallery in the world, as the tunnels are carved out of exposed rock and painted with murals).

Our hotel, The Rex, is in the commercial, downtown area of Stockholm, home to big department stores, cafes and organic bakeries, and hundreds of colorful low-rise apartment buildings. This morning, we chilled out in The Rex's quiet breakfast room, where the humble spread included smoked ham, salami, raisin bread, flax bread, cream cheese, sour milk (like runny yogurt), muesli, fresh vegetables, and apple juice.

The weather is rainy and grey, so this morning we bought warm things: wool mittens and a plateof jam-jam cookies at Cafe Blom, shivering outside in the old town to watch the changing of the Royal Guard. Quite a fanstastic sight to see the shiny, custom-cast helmets and hear the heart-thrumming drums.

Stockholm is situated on a series of small islands, connected by municipal ferries and wooden pedestrian-friendly bridges. After lunch, we clomped over one of those bridges to Moderna Museet. For the longest time, I stood staring at a black and white wall sculpture by Italian artist, Marcello Mondrini, feeling so comforted by its repeated sling shapes, which hung satisfyingly low. As I described to Adam how nice I thought it would feel to be one of the objects inside, how nice to just be held and supported, I found myself crying at the thought: just to be held.

My own tiny Dala Horse. Adam named him Alvar.

On the Move

Yesterday was one of Denmark's many stat holidays, so we rented bikes and rode along one of the pretty canals that run through the centre of the city. On the way home, Adam spotted an underwater sculpture called 'The Merman and Seven Sons.' It was chilling and delightful to watch the eight copper heads (three of them green from oxidization) come closer and then bob farther away as the water lapped over them.

Last night, we were slightly sunburned and totally wiped out. Good timing as we're taking the train to Stockholm this afternoon.