Category Archives: Eat & Drink

18

Nov. ’10

Gibson’s Canadian Whisky: Only in Canada…Pity

Gibson’s Finest Whiskey: something old, something rare. something sterling, and something you might regret later:  pace yourself

I’m a little foggy today.  Last night the girls at the Martini Club in the Distillery District hosted a party featuring Gibson’s Finest Canadian Whisky.  There is nothing more fun than a Martini Club party, last one had me drinking Hendricks gin, and I hate gin, or I thought I hated gin.  What I really hated was the thought of gin, it turns out the actual drinking of the gin is a lot of fun.  And also because Laura and Michelle are incredibly innovative mixologists.  In fact they contribute recipes for the LCBO magazine.  Their current mission is to get women drinking whiskey.  Twist my rubber arm, ladies, I love a brown drink.  Bourbon is very cool and I have created a few interesting cocktails of my own featuring Wild Turkey:  try drinking it with chocolate soy milk, yum!  Last night’s drinks included the classic Manhattan along with some new ideas:  Mint Divine which was lemonade and mint, and True North,  which was a sour mix with blueberry juice and ginger beer.  They also served it with heated apple cider.  Most fun (and educational) was trying the whiskies straight up.  Gibson’s has a range:  Sterling which is great for mixed drinks, the 12-year-old which is barrel aged and ultra smooth, and Finest Rare which is the one you give to your favourite blogger for a Christmas present.  If tequila makes people crazy and vodka makes people promiscuous, then sipping whisky makes you smarter.  Did you know that “whisky” is Scottish English and “whiskey” is Irish English?  I have been spelling it both ways.  Anyway, thanks to Steve Wright, Gibson’s Finest Canadian Whisky Ambassador, and Michelle and Laura for a really fun party and a new appreciation for Canadian Whisky!

Dennis, serving us straight whisky.  Mixing in a bit of water is not considered wimpy, in fact it helps the taste buds by minimizing the burn.

Drinking the Mint Divine:  Gibson’s Finest Sterling shaken with fresh mint, lemonade, and wild cranberries

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09

Nov. ’10

The Chef Upstairs

My oldest sister, Sandy, in Cape Cod a grillion years ago

My dad took that brilliant photo of my sister posing on a rock at Nauset Beach in Cape Cod.  All I can say is that she’s lucky that the wave hit her when it did, otherwise it would have been just another one of my dad’s fug mug shots.  The thing about my dad’s pictures is that he makes you sit and wait for what seems like hours while he adjusts the focus and by the time he is ready, you’re about to shut your eyes, or sneeze, or have a facial tick.  We all learned to pose stoney faced because of that.  When they unearth our family photos from the landfill generations from now, we will be known as The Sad Family where everyone seems to have Bell’s Palsy and the baby (me) has Down’s Syndrome.  It’s the element of shock and surprise that makes us question the photograph:  Is she having fun?  It turns out, no, she almost drowned right after.  But she lived to tell the tale and she also lived to see another big surprise last Saturday night.  No, it wasn’t a snake, it was a surprise birthday party arranged by our other sister, Sue and Sandy’s husband, Clifford.  The how, where and when took some care to configure because Sandy likes fine dining and was hell-bent to go to Marben, organic restaurant on Wellington but try sneaking 20 other people in there at just the right time, it’s like preparing for the G-20.  And by the way, this is why people should have cell phones.  I don’t know how they did this kind of thing in the olden days.

It turned out they chose the perfect spot, The Chef Upstairs, 516 Mt Pleasant.  It’s like being in your own house, if your house was a restaurant and you had your own chef and wait staff.  Check out their website here.  They do catering, cooking classes for adults and kids, private parties, and have Sunday brunch.  They have guest chefs come in, including Jamie Oliver, am going back if they ever have Tyler Florence (call me! I would totally do his laundry).  The venue is upstairs in one room where the entire kitchen is surrounded by bar seating and there is a dining area where we had set up a Sandy slide slow and bonus:  washrooms on the same level.  The food was fantastic and you could chat with the chef and the staff like they were part of the party.  Why would you ever have a home party when you could do it there?

The kitchen at The Chef Upstairs is right in the middle of the fun.

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06

Nov. ’10

Sweet Dreams: Cupcakes For Haiti and Diwali

Diwali (Festival of Lights) is on this weekend:  Waddle, don’t walk over to Gerrard Street and graze on this spectacle.

I’ve got a big weekend planned.  When it rains, it pours especially since I discovered the event box on my Facebook page a couple of weeks ago.  Also this is the weekend we turn back the clocks.  Good news for teenagers, and shift workers.  Bad news for insomniacs.  I wonder how an extra hour of tossing, ruminating, obsessing over paranoid delusions will affect my daytime psyche?  Why can’t I just ease myself to sleep with simple fantasies like the one I have where John Stamos is a plumber and I am a porn star:  He fixes my faucet, we do it on the couch, and then he leaves and I fall asleep for real.  But no, I have to spend my sleeping hours creating detailed scenarios involving my real-life crush who doesn’t know I’m alive which makes him even hotter.  At one point I iron his plaid flannel shirt, going over the pocket plackets, careful not to burn the buttons.  You’d think I would bore myself to sleep but no, I just keep going, folding his laundry, sorting his socks.

This weekend is Diwali, the Festival of Lights, and the biggest Hindu celebration of the year.  Little India on Gerrard goes all night.  The restaurants bake up a storm for the event.  I just picked up a box of sweet treats from Mahar at 1410 Gerrard Street East.  They have the craziest selection of blobs in all colours and configurations.  I picked up only four (because I was scared) but I have almost finished them off.  They are all kind of similar, honey soaked doughy things but some have nuts, coconut, and one has chocolate.  They are so good, I need to go back.

And more sweets this Saturday.  Friend and neighbour Susana Molinolo is having a book launch in Leslieville :

She started it as a bake sale and raised $12,000 for Haiti (see how the ladies know how to raise funds?  see previous post).  Now she has put together a cookbook featuring 30 different recipes from different chefs to help Doctors Without Borders and FINCA Canada.  Check it out on the Facebook page.  The book launch is Saturday, November 6 at Beaufort Decor, 1576 Queen Street East and you’ll be able to buy some already baked cupcakes at Voulez Vous Cafe down the street.

It’s going to be a super sweet weekend, but it’s okay, I’ll be burning it off at two hour boot camp Saturday morning.  Ugh.

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02

Oct. ’10

Mama Mimi

Mi Mi’s Restaurant, 668 Gerrard Street East at Howland

I was sick this week!  I don’t know what it was but it left me baffled and wanting my mama.  And soup.  Although I pretty much always want soup.  As a child, I ate it everyday in elementary school.  I would walk home for lunch (through the woods behind the sugar shack which was a mile from the school, true!) and I would slurp down a bowl of Campbell’s Noodle O’s while watching the Flintstones.  Those were the days, my friend.  I still jones for the old can but I’m more apt to make from scratch….not really, when I am sick I am part baby, part slave driver, so the recipe is here.  When I can’t wait for you to make chicken stock and need a heaping dose of mama love right away, I head to queen of noodle soup, Mi Mi (her real name is Ni) and her Vietnamese magic bowl of goodness.  I always order spring rolls first, then the mixed noodle bowl with bbq pork, it all looks like this:

first course:  Spring Rolls

The soup:  egg noodles, big fat rice noodles, and bbq pork

Also, speaking of the Flintstones, it was their 50th anniversary the day I ate the soup which was yesterday (am still a little delirious)…here is a little a tribute, a picture of Alan Reed, the voice of Freddy (who I named my son after!):

And R.I.P. Tony Curtis who was Stoney Curtis on my all-time favourite episode, here’s the you tube clip

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23

Sep. ’10

Modern Prohibition

Prohibition:  That was then, this is now

I’m on Week 2 of boot camp.  Amy promised it would get easier but last night was a lady chain gang featuring hoops, hurdles, pylons, and the soundtrack to “An Officer and a Gentleman.”    3 sets of 5 obstacle course activities performed under a full moon.  My shoe lace is untied!  I have a very important text message from someone I need to respond to right now for a very important appointment I have!  Do you see that man over there?  I think he has a gun!  Diversions served only to prolong the event…longest hour of my life.  Then, home in the dark, and I missed the first episode of Glee!  My other, more important blog, My Tv Fez, will describe this anguish in full.

Anyway, boot camp doesn’t mean “no booze” but it definitely means cutting back.  The whole concept of booze deprivation seems virtuous, but I’ve learned that abstinence is a dangerous thing.  Don’t kid yourself, your liver wants to work, it’s like a horse in that way.  It doesn’t want to be clean, otherwise it will get bored, lazy even, so the next time you take cough syrup (in earnest) after a righteous”cleanse”, don’t be surprised if you wake up at the DIY car wash, with the hose slammed in your trunk.  Anyway, today I met one of my favourite friends, the one I can count on for never ordering a soda water or worse, a diet coke, when you go out for lunch.  It’s Pinot Grigio or go home.  What better place in the hood for us, than Prohibition Gasto House, at 696 Queen Street East, at Broadview.  This place has been around for a while and it is my default, go-to place for lunch or hanging out on the weekend.  For one, they have an in-house oyster shucker, say no more.  They have bands, crap on tv, and really good food.  And really, really good french fries or frites, the real French from France way.  I know the secret and am keeping it to myself.  Quack.  The staff is really great and the who doesn’t have a crush on Michael.  And when I was there, I got a phone message from none other than boot camp Amy:  “Where are you?  I’m parked right behind you!”  damn, my big red box…  I didn’t dare tell her where I was, some things are better kept secret.

Posted by . Categories: Eat & Drink, Get out of your comfort zone. Tags: , . 1 Comment

09

Sep. ’10

How Now Brown Drink

Whiskey Sour

I feel all displaced now that the weather has gone from sultry hot to cold and freaky and this back to school business is ridiculous.  I’d home school my kids except I’m dumber than them.  Anyway, I’m trying to roll with the times and embrace the cold and the loneliness.  I’m still wearing sandals but that England World Cup tshirt is for the gym only.  The fall wardrobe is still up in the air.  I read in the Toronto Star last week the camel coat was the autumn must-have.  I told this to someone at a wedding on Sunday and they thought I said  “camel toe”…of course they did…but camel toe is always in season.  Enough of fashion.  I do like a change of season  because you can change your eating and drinking habits.  Fruit:  be gone and take your little flies with you.  Vodka, you’re starting to bore me, there are only so many flavours of Vitamin Water to disguise you.  Bring on the gourds and the brown drinks.  Yesterday I made myself a “whiskey sour” while I hunkered down in my ashram to watch Episode 7 of Madmen.  In a flurry of inspiration, I have started another blog call “My Tv Fez” where I will invite discussion of what I watch, instead of just falling asleep afterwards, click here for the link….it’s still a baby so it’s not on google-able yet.  Anyway, Don Draper drinks a lot of Canadian Rye which I think is hot.  Bourbon is good too.  Here is the recipe:

Shot of brown drink (bourbon, rye or whiskey)

Squeeze in a half a lemon

Simple syrup…sugar dissolved in water…to taste and serve it on ice, with or without the cherry

And let the autumn come!

Posted by . Categories: Eat & Drink, go girl, Hanging Around, Uncategorized. Tags: , , , , , . 2 Comments

07

Sep. ’10

More About Cheese

 

No, I haven’t gotten too lazy to post but I did go on a little vacation back to my hometown of Montreal.  Funnest vacay EVER!  The point of the trip was my high school reunion so my best buddy from Grade 6 (!) and I took the train.  We took first class, of course, because we are ladies of a certain age and have requirements.  I thought they were going to kick us off at Belleville though, we were laughing and snorting so hard.  There is a reason were always separated by our high school teachers.  We stayed at my brother and his wife’s house in the heart of it all, where crack meets trend, Sherbrooke and St. Hubert.  Except they were still away on vacation for the entire month but their twentysomething sons were home so we were basically two LOCAs in a frat house.  Never a dull moment or a clean towel and we had to hide our food stash under our beds.  I think they were even eating coffee grounds.  There is a lot to say about Montreal I guess but I will say my Montreal does NOT involve smoked meat or those colon clogging glue bagels.  I got my Coco Rico Portuguese chicken fix and my cheese curds from the Depanneur.  Here is something I know but I always forget:  the magical cheese curds from real Quebec poutine are waxy in texture and squeak on your teeth.  I have found some in Ontario but it was from a vendor at Beer Fest ’09 and they claim that the texture is because they are not refrigerated.  Whatever.  If I have a bag of cheese curds I do not have to bother with the whole enchilada, ie. fries and gravy.  I’m happy keeping it simple.  And  the highlight of my Montreal eating was Mike’s homemade burgers…he made them square shaped to match the bun!  I’m still dreaming about them!

Back home and speaking of cheese, I met my friend for lunch.  She is a LOCA but has even more mojo than me and acts it out,  therefore she has the best stories.  I am only proud because I can out-eat her.  We went to Queen Margherita on Queen St. East at Vancouver (east of Greenwood).

Queen Margherita  Queen St East, just east of Greenwood

As far as I’m concerned, you can have too many coffee shops, but you can never have too many pizzerias.  Queen Margherita holds its own on the genre and it is a really cool airy, lofty space.  I ordered the Napoletana, which is anchovies and black olives.  Do you know it was so salty good that I had finished half of the pie before I realized there was no cheese involved?  Of course real Italian pizza doesn’t require cheese….I know that but I am not a carb bunny.  My friend ordered the Diavola which had some cheese on it and spicy meat.  But mine was so good I wasn’t even jealous.  Pizza *sans fromage* on dough, who knew it could be so good?

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27

Aug. ’10

The Beginning of the End

Date Night at the CNE

The more things change, the more they remain the same.  The CNE isn’t what it used to be, so I’m told.  There is no free ride and I paid 7 Dollalhares for a hotdog…yes, a hot dog (more on that later).  The bearded lady is gone….or is she?  Maybe she just went to the the Shoppers Bazaar in Building A just right of the Prince’s Gates and got herself a honey ginger hair removal system and now she walks among us, flying her freak flag at half mast.  There is still some pretty good people watching (it’s free and see picture above, zoom in wherever) and there is some good things to eat.  Take my hotdog:  I got it in Building A:  a kobe beef weiner (shhh), with wasabi mayo, Japanese curry, and a hovering of deep fried julienned onions smattered on top.  Seriously, the best hot dog ever.  Seven dollars.  And so what?  I got a foot massage for a quarter and a pair of Doc Martens for 60 bucks, I am so way ahead.  I also had another lunch of a vegetarian Middle East platter  from the actual foode court:

Falafel balls!!!! This one is for Scotty

But the best part, of course is the rides, of which I am too old, too chicken, and too incontinent to partake, but Claire did:

The Scary Drop Zone

I’d rather have a hot dog, same sort of thing.  And another big buddy Budweiser, I’ll be back before it all ends.

Posted by . Categories: an inconvenient truth, Eat & Drink, Field Trip, Get out of your comfort zone, Hanging Around. Tags: . 2 Comments

25

Aug. ’10

Don`t Worry, Eat Cheese

 A brilliant ad campaign  from the real life Madison Avenue “Madmen”

Back in the days of Lard and Fluffy White Wonder, there was only one way to make a grilled cheese sandwich:  a slice of Velveeta in between two pieces of white bread, and fried up in a pan of rendered fat.  And just like the way someone decided to put a lime in a bottle of Corona, one culinary genius discovered the sublime awesomeness of dipping the sandwich in a dollop of ketchup on the side of the plate, with a pickle!  And then came the Kraft single (which still exists in the secret compartment in the fridge, don’t lie) and people started to use butter instead of lard, an improvement for sure.  Me personally, I don’t like the bread all greasy so I use a George Foreman grill, the most highly civilized piece of clutter in my kitchen.  Did you know you can use the grill to fry bacon so the strips are even and flat, not curly and burnt on one side?  Also I use real cheese, not a “cheese product.”  Leslieville Cheese Market is the place to go to explore the world of fromage:

Leslieville Cheese Market, 891 Queen Street East at Carlaw

The shop also serves grilled cheese sandwiches which will expand your palate and blow your mind:  you can choose your cheese, the bread is herb flavoured and it is served with a spicy chutney in lieu of the ketchup.  Crazy!  The owner, Michael, is very cute and drives a Scion Xb like me.  Last year, they did have the best booth at the Food and Wine Expo at the Toronto Convention Centre.  Click here and let the Leslieville Cheese Market cater your next event.  Eat cheese, be happy!

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18

Aug. ’10

Wooing the Woohoo

Blueberry Pie from Cafe Florentin, everyone wants a piece of pie and the filling is up to you

Shut your pie hole, yes we all know the end of summer is looming.  Sadness.  My gauge is August 16, Elvis’ Death Day, from this day on it is downhill, just makes me think of peanut butter sandwiches and toilet mishaps and then having to change the rest of your life.  The back-to-school commercials are on in full force, the new one from Staples, featuring our own East Ender, Stefan,  is the best, click here to see it if you haven’t already.  It’s not all about death, there is hope in the fall.  In fact, all the best romances occur in autumn weather.  I think when leaves start to fall, men go mental and question their own mortality and that’s when they start to go all *serious*, that or golf season is ending and they know they have to keep warm in the winter somehow.  For some reason, this year, my stock is up, and I’m not going to ride wave all tee-hee and twirling my hair, I am a LOCA (lady of a certain age) so I’m going pro-active.  I am going to learn how to bake the perfect pie.  That’s how my mother and father met, she used to bake pies in the diner where he used to go when he was at the University of Manitoba.  All fresh-faced and farm-fed, he ate her pie and then some more pie.  And he is still eating her pie 60 years later because she makes the perfect crust!   

My personal favourite pie is blueberry and as it turns out, so is my son’s, Freddy’s.  He ate the whole Farmer’s Market pie from Loblaws in between missions of Mario Galaxy. I had a sliver of it, pie goo: delish, crust: meh.  So a more upscale kind of pie I got was from Cafe Florentin at 2010 Queen Street East in the heart of the beach.  Now this place has been around for four years or so, advertising the “best Espresso in the beach,’  totally the slogan that would go off my radar.  The only coffee I drink is the black juice I brew first thing in the morning for medicinal purposes only so I can ensure that I will poop in my own toilet and not get caught spontaneously at some random spot where I will resist the urge and hold it in then freak out at a gas station 40 blocks out of my way.  Privacy and an abundance of toilet paper is what it’s all about.  If that’s TMI then tough bananas.  Anyway,  Cafe Florentin has pies at the beach location and a smaller shop in Leslieville, check out their website here.  Not only are their pies fresh and gorgeous, I could have a coffee here, if I were on a date, say, and needed to act civilized.  The crust is flakey and the blueberry filling is not too sweet because it doesn’t have to be…in a pinch, I will pretend to have made this pie myself and warm it in my own oven and serve it with a dollop of vanilla ice cream.  And Labour Day won’t be so bad.

Cafe Florentin, 2010 Queen St. East

Posted by . Categories: Eat & Drink, LOCAs gone wild. Tags: , . 1 Comment