D and Daughter #1 are huge tennis fans and so this weekend the Monte Carlo tournament was avidly being followed at our place.  This prompted D and I to remember our wonderful time in Nice.  The timing was early October and the weather was perfect.

The summer crowds had diminished

and we were free to roam the flower and food markets,

stroll along the boardwalk

and have sunset drinks at beach clubs.  Ah, it would be so lovely to return.

When we last visited, our coffers were dwindling as it was near the end of our sojourn from Sicily and up the west coast of Italy into France.  From Nice, we took the train to Paris and then flew home from there.  Whilst in Nice, we stayed at a comfortable place perched high enough to see the city below us and the Mediterranean beyond that.

The vista was beautiful from the window above our bed and the 180 degree balcony outside our shuttered door.

Just imagine the dining in Nice…garlic, artichokes, fennel, asparagus, olives, truffles and cheese meeting sea bream, crab, sardines and anchovies.  I recall the rich preparations of the Provençale kitchen and long to return.  If we get another chance to visit France and specifically the Riviera, we would likely want to find a place closer to the vibrant restaurant scene and the water’s edge.  When we originally planned this trip, I came across this hotel website on a regular basis: http://www.venere.com/france/nice/.  Oh, that we had the opportunity to use the site to book a Nice Hotel right now!

Kath’s quote:  “Don’t cry because it’s over, smile because it happened.”-Dr. Seuss

Love-that is all.

Do you recall the feeling of writing your last university exam in the spring?  Perhaps, for you, the sensation is still very fresh.  For me, in spite of the number of years that have past, I remember the perception vividly.  Recently, I picked Daughter #2 up after her last exam of the semester.  In fact, with an overseas practicum trip planned for this fall, she won’t be back at school until January 2014.  Having completed a paper during the week and written two exams the day previous, she was giddy with relief.  Contributing to her levity, may have been the exhaustion of studying most of the night.  By the time I fetched her, she was also very, very hungry. The Osborne Village restaurant is on our route home and my husband has been encouraging me to pay the Unburger guys a repeat visit.

Since I once worked upstairs in the building that Unburger -Healthy Gourmet Burgers is located in, I knew that there was parking behind the premises.  I should have read the signs that the place was hopping, as there was not a spot available.  When we arrived at the entrance, we had to wedge in between the door itself and the back of the line.  It was obvious that there was not an empty seat in the restaurant but what was not apparent, was the number of large orders that had been placed for pick up.  Needless to say, once we put in our order, until the time that our bag of food was handed off to us, a considerable amount of time had passed.  No worries.  We watched others arrive and try to shoe-horn themselves inside, including Jets captain-Andrew Ladd.  I had been to the game the night before, when Ladd had gotten a overtime assist on the winning goal.  Ladd has always been my favourite Jet, and his recent performance has certainly solidified that.  What I am saying in a long-winded way, is that time seemed to pass relatively quickly.

Daughter #2 knew exactly what she was having-a Blueberry Yum-Yum beef burger and a side of sweet potato fries with rosemary garlic aioli.  I had a hankering for the Bella (I suppose I am already preparing my palette for an upcoming trip to Tuscany).  Unburger marks the Bella as “A (Damn Good) Healthier Burger” and I should have continued in that vein with an “8 Grain Energy Salad” which I am crazy about, but I couldn’t resist their freshly cut fries.

The “Sweet, Sweet Yam Fries” did not survive the drive home and missed the photo shoot.  I asked Daughter #2 what she appreciated about the burger as she took her first bite.  She replied: “Well, it includes all my favourite foods in one place-the blueberries have a bit of a spicy punch.  There is a creamy goat cheese and balsamic onions.” I can attest to this appeal, as I see these items on our family grocery list on a regular basis.  She so loves the balsamic bite with meat, that I just place the bottle on the dining room table in front of her when I serve pork chops.

I am an avid beef eater but knew that I was going to be noshing on a beef lasagna for dinner that evening and that is why I chose the Bella with its “meaty” grilled portabella mushroom innards.  The non-pulsed order taker and cashier, cheerfully replaced the blue cheese with goat cheese, even though I totally messed up by not remembering until after we had placed and paid for our order.  Balsamic onions also adorned the daily baked, whole wheat bun.

The tastes were balanced and bold at the same time, even when I went back to finish the second half of my burger a couple of hours later.  Unburger knows their local ingredients and how to assemble a great tasting, “guilt-free” burger.  They also know how to help a Mom revive and refresh her diligent daughter.

Kath’s quote: “It does not matter where you go and what you study, what matters most is what you share with yourself and the world.”-Santosh Kalwar

Love-that is all.

One of the many blessings of aging is that my memory capacity is changing.  I won’t say “going” or “deteriorating”; I am not there yet.  This creates wonderful surprises for me each day.  For example: last weekend when I arrived home from the FBC Conference, I left my suitcase just inside the door.  I packed up a different case, to take with me (when I left the house at 5:30 the next morning), to fly back up north, to finish off a teaching commitment.  Now that I am home again, I opened my FBC suitcase like it was Christmas morning!

So too, as I read back over the notes that I took during the sessions, I am delighted by the nuggets of wisdom that I can apply to my craft.  I was especially struck by three people and they all happen to be men, which is ironic when you consider that the conference was primarily attended by females with mostly female presenters.  Don’t misunderstand me, I love the company of women: their insights and tenderness and affection.  Male voices just seemed to resonate with me last weekend, like the feeling you get when watching a parade and the drum corp marches by.

Dan Clapson made an first impression on me when he was part of the panel of speakers for the “Making Dough-Earning a Living with Your Words” session but when I was really inspired was when he spoke up during “The Changing Face of Food Writing” as he passionately interjected that he and his fellow writer/bloggers from Alberta were unified in their promotion of local food, producers and the provinces’ vibrant restaurant scene.  Were you also impressed by his courage to challenge the “Toronto-centric” perspective?

I was bewildered when I saw other conference attendees swarm the speakers’ table to get Corey Mintz’s autograph.  But as soon as he mentioned his rubbing of shoulders with Ruth Reichl, I too might have been tempted.  Her books Tender to the Bone and Garlic and Sapphires are among my favourite culinary non-fiction reads.  I read Corey’s How to Host a Dinner Party in two sittings this week.  I immensely enjoyed his instruction, in spite of the fact that I felt like an idiot for not knowing what “guanciale” was (I still don’t know how to pronounce it).  Sarah Polley’s introduction of her friend Corey instantly connected me to him, with these words:

Through learning to cook, he developed an eloquent, uncomplicated way of showing love without irony.

This declaration confirmed my personal life equation: food=love.  Might I also add, that I adore when people “get” me and I think that I get Corey Mintz.  His book’s final paragraph, reads:

Because in the end, it’s about connecting with people over food.  That’s what’s important to me.  Within this book, hopefully, I’ve provided some guidance so that more people can make that happen more often, and with greater comfort.

The last say was given to keynote David Leite, whom I will admit, I did not remember hearing of previously.  Perhaps it is the memory thing again because I avidly read  The Best Food Writing series each and every year and must have come across he and his writings before.  I really need to listen to his sage advice of backing away from the desk and the stove.  Being a relatively new blogger, I am too focused on the quantity of my posts.  I need to give myself permission to sit longer at our dining room table after the dinner has been consumed, walk my dog with less urgency (“would you please poop, so we can get home”) and just … be.

When David declared: “I love language”, he intended “love” to be a verb.  I consider “love” to also have great significance as a noun and “love language” is my native tongue.  Since last weekend, I have spent time in a troubled Manitoba northern community and watched the horrific bombings of the Boston marathon.  If the language of love could be spoken more often, in our homes, communities, country and around the world, it might not change the world, but then again, it just might.

Kath’s quote: “There is no love sincerer than the love of food.”-George Bernard Shaw

Love-that is all.

I am eating pizza that is so amazing that I have not finished my first piece and I have to write about it. The crust is firm, crispy and perfectly cooked.  The sauce, as indicated on the take out menu is Tom’s “own authentic”.  I cannot really work up a full analysis on the sauce as the tastes are over-taken by the toppings and the cheese.  This is not a complaint.

The “Miner’s Special” toppings are a thick wedge of pepperoni and julienne salami. The combination is appropriately spicy and because of the abundance, I am very thirsty from the salt.  But not the kind of salty taste that you get when a bad cook tries to disquise their inferiority with the salt shaker, but a deep and rich, saltiness. If I had any complaint, it is that I would have loved more mushrooms to offset the richness of the deli meats.  Mozzarella is liberally layered over top and then hunks of bacon crown it all.

I do not use the term “hunks” in a derogatory manner.  These are lean and meaty pieces, similar to when I was growing up and my Dad would bring home the bacon.  He would purchase a slab of bacon and would slice it up himself.  He would use his big freshly sharpened butcher knife, on the wooden cutting board, that used to slide out of the cupboard.  Tom’s bacon retains a husky, smoky taste and comes closer to what I imagine “real” bacon is supposed to taste like.

I have to fess up on a couple of points: I have now finished my pizza supper and it is only 5 pm.  I really want to watch the Jets game but I have to participate in a twitter party this evening.  The front desk agent at my hotel has called over to Boston Pizza which is within walking distance, to ensure that they have Wi-Fi.  Therefore, I can sit up at the bar, watch the game AND fulfil my tweeting commitments.  But, I couldn’t bear to pay Boston’s prices for a pizza when I knew that their pies could not hold a candle to the local version, that I have heard so much about.  Last year when I was teaching in Thompson, I tasted pizza from Santa Maria and when I commented to locals that I wanted to go again, many advised me that the chef from Santa Maria’s had moved over to Tom’s (or perhaps he even IS Tom).  At any rate, I wanted to give a place that I had never eaten at, a try.

Just before game time, I plan to walk over to BP and order myself a frosty beer or a glass of wine and then get my tweeting fingers warmed up.  Hopefully I will be all done by the end of the first period, when I can then sit back and enjoy the rest of the game.  Which I can now report was won in a shoot out!

Kath’s quote: “I talked to a calzone for fifteen minutes last night before I realized it was just an introverted pizza. I wish all my acquaintances were so tasty.
”-  Jarod Kintz

Love-that is all.

Getting the precise timing of D’s arrival at the ferry landing on the Cancun side was crucial, since he was expecting me, but on the Isla side. I didn’t want to be heading west across the Bay of Cancun, as he was heading east towards Isla.  I have always thought that those Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan movies, where they are always mere seconds away from meeting each other, were way too tense and anxiety-provoking. I am not kidding, doesn’t the suspense drive you to the edge of your seat? No? Okay, it is just me, then.

After careful calculations, I left Luna D’Miel precisely at the moment that D’s plane would have been touching down. I had a 15 minute walk ahead of me and a wait for the ferry. I arrived at Gran Puerto just as the 11:30 am ferry was boarding. I caught D’s attention as he was charging ahead to climb on board, for the noon crossing.

We celebrated being back together with a beer on the top deck and then more beer and mixed ceviche at the Fisherman’s Co-op. Why so much celebrating? D and I have been together for over 30 years and every time we reunite after a time apart, we rejoice anew.

We walked up the Airport Road to Luna D’Miel with D’s luggage in tow and then headed back down to Centro for a quiet sit together by the water and then to buy some more provisions.

As much as we love watching the sun rise in the morning (especially from our bed), we love love gazing at its setting as well. This is one of the many reasons why we love staying at Luna D’Miel.  Where on the Island, can you enjoy both with such splendour?

We chose not to linger because we were meeting the gang for dinner.  There was much deliberation on what the nine of us had a hankering for, but in the end, the answer was tacos.  Then of course, the discussion centered upon where  the best place for tacos was.  Traveling with an entourage has its delights, but not necessarily when conclusions have to be made, especially when we are staying at four different areas of the island.  In the end, the determination was Tacqueria Media on Hidalgo, but we were too early, as they don’t open until 8ish (with the emphasis on the “ish”). So we strolled south on Hidalgo and decided upon Don Cheapo.

The food was quite tasty and we were having a very enjoyable evening, until a table of very loud patrons, drove us into the street. Has this happened to you, as well?  The group was piercingly loud and argumentative and had clearly had way too many margaritas.  The staff and management did not dare muffle them, for fear of lost of business (and I am guessing- gratuities).  But we could not focus on our own festivities, once they had arrived.  Our attention was constantly pulled to their table, until we just gave up and decided to find somewhere for a quiet ice cream.

But before their arrival, we tucked into this array of tacos. The pork chop tacos were assembled from sizzled strips of pork chop including a little round bone.

D adventurously ordered the cactus tacos as well.  We scrutinized the taste and declared that it was close to a pickled pepper (unless you have never tasted one of those).

My Sis-in-Law enjoyed the Chicken Fajitas.

Sister #2  elected to taste the chicken tostada with ham peas, tomato sauce and sauteed plantain.

My Bro-in-law opted for crispy chicken tacos.

Sister #3 determined that she need a shrimp fix but I am not totally sure if there were enough crustaceans in these to satisfy her.

I was delighted with my choice of fresh fish that was lightly sauteed in butter and garlic and served alongside broccoli shoots.

D was ready for his first night of blissful sleep with the sound of the crashing ocean waves outside our windows.  As a result, we did not linger in Centro, but strolled back out to our little piece of paradise.

Kath’s quote: “Ancient lovers believed a kiss would literally untie their souls, because the spirit was said to be carried in one’s breath.”  -Eve Glicksman

Love-that is all.