No, I didn't go to some magical region in France and recieve some enlightening tutelage. But I did make a sandwich, and I did learn a lesson.
Yesterday, while grocery shopping between the Great Plunging Disaster of '09 - as it henceforth shall be known - and dinner, I decided to buy some Dijon mustard. Now, I mean REAL Dijon mustard, as in, it comes in a jar; as in, it doesn't have that little red French's flag anywhere on the label. I have a thing for mustard; I don't eat it often, but when I do, I prefer mustard the way it was meant to be. Not some watery solution with mustard powder and Yellow Dye No. 16. It comes from my grandparents who still do everything Old World European-style, so I like mustard that comes from a jar.
So as I mentioned, I made a sandwich, today for lunch, a turkey sandwich, and I decided to give this new Dijon mustard a crack. I took two slices of soft, fresh country grain bread, a couple slices of turkey meat, and, since I don't like a dry sandwich, and since I so much enjoy real "Old World" mustard, I applied some Dijon to the bread liberally. I took a bite. I chewed and tasted. It was delicious. Then fire came up my throat and out my nose.
I coughed.
I choked.
I sputtered like a dying automobile.
I breathed out through my mouth and reached for my glass of water.
I gulped furiously.
"WOW." I whispered hoarsely, for lack of ability to make any other noise.
That was great!
I took another bite. And with each successive bite, I threw flames across the room like that little dragon from the late '90's Playstation game Spyro. Each bite was an adventure in itself. It much reminded me of a similar experience I had with a frankfurter with mustard while having lunch with my brother on the front steps of the British Museum long ago. But as much fun as it was, chewing with my mouth open to allow the gases from the sulphites to escape via a path less painful than my nasal passage was less than enjoyable. And the one time I kept my mouth closed and swallowed immediately had more dangerous results, leaving my chest with a searing pain for a minute or two.
Lesson learned: beware of how much Dijon you use. Be frugal with it; a little goes a long way.
Though I'm sure every now and then a Dijon-flame experience can be fun too. ;)
Ciao,
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
Monday, December 14, 2009
Adventure No. 6
The roller-coaster rides of the day will never cease, you just gotta roll with them, and hang on tight.
Today began quite nicely with a delicious brunch. After a giant chocolate-and-banana filled crepe, and some intelligent conversation (no, not with myself), I made my way down to Nathan Phillips Square (which I keep calling Charles Clark Square for [not so] obvious reasons) and skated to my Beatles playlist for about an hour or so. About halfway into said skating session, a group of school children on a field trip came on the ice, and I glided around amongst the kinders and their families, as well as some adults who were learning to skate. All in all, it was a picture perfect Christmas skate. I went for a walk around downtown, and came home in a festive mood, only to find my toilet clogged.
Well, luckily for me, I know plumbing well enough to know that you do not flush a clogged toilet with your fingers crossed in hopes that it will magically un-clog itself. You grab a plunger, as unbecoming as that is. Well, I've never owned a plunger, so I was grateful that the wretched little toilet got clogged during regular business hours, and I made my way down to my neighbourhood hardware store to buy one. One plunger, a can of Drano, some shelf brackets, and a hazelnut latte later, I returned home to face my nemesis.
Now, plunging is not a pleasant activity, as you might have guessed, but at least it's a rather simple procedure. Simply place the plunger in the toilet, get a good seal around the drain, and plunge. However, when you have one of those crazy oval-shaped toilets that were so fashionable in the '90's, like I do, a regular round plunger doesn't really get a good seal. In fact, it leaves three slight air holes: one at the top right, one at the top left, and one at the bottom of the drain. Well now, this doesn't only result in a poor seal; imagine what happens when 160lbs of grown man pushes with all his force (that equals quite a bit of pressure by the way, any physicists want to figure that one out?). It equals air, as well as dirty toilet water, spraying all over. And by spraying I don't mean a few drops go splashing, I mean, spraying. Like a fountain that's being powered by one of those pressure washers you see people cleaning their driveways with.
Anywho, after an hour of plunging, an hour of scrubbing the floor on my hands and knees with a scrub brush, and twenty minutes of scrubbing my body in a hot shower, things were back to normal. Except that by that time it was after seven o'clock, and I still hadn't eaten. That was when I realized, oops, I had no food to eat anyway. Time for grocery shopping.
But after all that was said and done, and my tummy was full, I curled up on my bed by the fire and the Christmas tree, and watched some Christmas specials on CBC (although the term "Christmas special" is a misnomer for the genius that is Merry Christmas Mr. Bean).
And soon, I will be asleep. So what I had here today was a Monday sandwich: some really miserable things sandwiched inbetween some really great experiences. What can I say? That chocolate-banana crepe was amazing.
Ciao,
Today began quite nicely with a delicious brunch. After a giant chocolate-and-banana filled crepe, and some intelligent conversation (no, not with myself), I made my way down to Nathan Phillips Square (which I keep calling Charles Clark Square for [not so] obvious reasons) and skated to my Beatles playlist for about an hour or so. About halfway into said skating session, a group of school children on a field trip came on the ice, and I glided around amongst the kinders and their families, as well as some adults who were learning to skate. All in all, it was a picture perfect Christmas skate. I went for a walk around downtown, and came home in a festive mood, only to find my toilet clogged.
Well, luckily for me, I know plumbing well enough to know that you do not flush a clogged toilet with your fingers crossed in hopes that it will magically un-clog itself. You grab a plunger, as unbecoming as that is. Well, I've never owned a plunger, so I was grateful that the wretched little toilet got clogged during regular business hours, and I made my way down to my neighbourhood hardware store to buy one. One plunger, a can of Drano, some shelf brackets, and a hazelnut latte later, I returned home to face my nemesis.
Now, plunging is not a pleasant activity, as you might have guessed, but at least it's a rather simple procedure. Simply place the plunger in the toilet, get a good seal around the drain, and plunge. However, when you have one of those crazy oval-shaped toilets that were so fashionable in the '90's, like I do, a regular round plunger doesn't really get a good seal. In fact, it leaves three slight air holes: one at the top right, one at the top left, and one at the bottom of the drain. Well now, this doesn't only result in a poor seal; imagine what happens when 160lbs of grown man pushes with all his force (that equals quite a bit of pressure by the way, any physicists want to figure that one out?). It equals air, as well as dirty toilet water, spraying all over. And by spraying I don't mean a few drops go splashing, I mean, spraying. Like a fountain that's being powered by one of those pressure washers you see people cleaning their driveways with.
Anywho, after an hour of plunging, an hour of scrubbing the floor on my hands and knees with a scrub brush, and twenty minutes of scrubbing my body in a hot shower, things were back to normal. Except that by that time it was after seven o'clock, and I still hadn't eaten. That was when I realized, oops, I had no food to eat anyway. Time for grocery shopping.
But after all that was said and done, and my tummy was full, I curled up on my bed by the fire and the Christmas tree, and watched some Christmas specials on CBC (although the term "Christmas special" is a misnomer for the genius that is Merry Christmas Mr. Bean).
And soon, I will be asleep. So what I had here today was a Monday sandwich: some really miserable things sandwiched inbetween some really great experiences. What can I say? That chocolate-banana crepe was amazing.
Ciao,
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
Adventure No. 5 - Hooray for good life choices.
So today, having the day off from both jobs (finally) I took the opportunity afforded to me to do a little Christmas shopping, or rather, to get started Christmas shopping. *gulp* I caught a streetcar headed for downtown and did some wandering around. Eventually I found myself at the Eaton's Centre, even though I absolutely dispise malls (they're right up there with racism, famine and war), but I don't really know of any other places to do my Christmas shopping in this city, yet; hopefully next year that will change.
Well after a few hours of wandering up and down the floors, heading down to the bottom level only to realize the store I wanted to go to is on the upper level, I actually found quite a few good gifts for those who are near and dear to me. But after all that meandering, and after a good chunk of my pocketbook was eaten by the over commercialization of my favourite holiday season, I decided it was time to go home and make some dinner. So I hopped on a streetcar headed back home.
While I was on the streetcar, watching the city float past me (and occasionally glancing at my reflection to check how the curl in my bangs was holding up) I started thinking long and hard, and while I was thinking, I had another one of my epiphanies. This move I made, this giant leap from Windsor up to the Big T. was one of the best decisions I've ever made for myself. I realized that I am a big tree and Windsor just did not offer me enough space for my roots to grow to their full potential; Toronto does. I realized that in this giant megalopolis of millions of people, of thousands of houses and offices and streets, that I have the world proverbially at my fingertips. I have the ability to make myself smile simply by walking down a bustling street lined with shops and lights, full of people and taxi cabs. I can jump on a bus, streetcar, or subway train and travel the length and/or width of this expansive city all with just a flash of my Metropass (which now occupies the same space my debit card used to). I have the power and the opportunity to do basically whatever it is I want to, all because of this great environment I am now in.
I think I deserve a pat on the back for making this decision. Yay.
Ciao,
Well after a few hours of wandering up and down the floors, heading down to the bottom level only to realize the store I wanted to go to is on the upper level, I actually found quite a few good gifts for those who are near and dear to me. But after all that meandering, and after a good chunk of my pocketbook was eaten by the over commercialization of my favourite holiday season, I decided it was time to go home and make some dinner. So I hopped on a streetcar headed back home.
While I was on the streetcar, watching the city float past me (and occasionally glancing at my reflection to check how the curl in my bangs was holding up) I started thinking long and hard, and while I was thinking, I had another one of my epiphanies. This move I made, this giant leap from Windsor up to the Big T. was one of the best decisions I've ever made for myself. I realized that I am a big tree and Windsor just did not offer me enough space for my roots to grow to their full potential; Toronto does. I realized that in this giant megalopolis of millions of people, of thousands of houses and offices and streets, that I have the world proverbially at my fingertips. I have the ability to make myself smile simply by walking down a bustling street lined with shops and lights, full of people and taxi cabs. I can jump on a bus, streetcar, or subway train and travel the length and/or width of this expansive city all with just a flash of my Metropass (which now occupies the same space my debit card used to). I have the power and the opportunity to do basically whatever it is I want to, all because of this great environment I am now in.
I think I deserve a pat on the back for making this decision. Yay.
Ciao,
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