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Tonight, Bonnie and I went out with E. & D. to celebrate D.'s graduation. Once again, we visited Gandhi – the virtues of which I've preached in the past. Afterward, we strolled around le Vieux-Port, took a calèche ride, grabbed ice cream, and saw some fireworks. The thing I noticed the most was all the people . . . wow, but do we have crowds this year. So I guess it's official: Montréal is open for summer business.
Plants, plants, plants
30 May 2009 18:21Today Bonnie and I went to le Rendez-vous horticole au Jardin botanique de Montréal. We picked up Arisaema triphyllum, Asarum canadense, Cyperus papyrus 'King Tut,' Diphylleia cymosa, Hosta 'El Capitan,' Podophyllum hexandrum majus, Primula auricula, Primula japonica, Rhododendron canadense, Rosularia chrysantha, Senecio rowleyanus, Trillium erectum, and Typha latifolia, plus a poor little nameless Sempervivum. Anybody who happens to know more about these is invited to comment!
Bonnie and I marked our 19th wedding anniversary today. Okay, strictly speaking it was yesterday – May 26 – but I haven't gone to bed yet. Thinking about that, I realize that while it isn't the round number that 20 will be, it's rather rare. So: "Go, us!" And indeed we went . . .
. . . to Ferreira Café, to be exact. If you should want Portuguese food in Montréal, this is the place to go. Pricy? Yeah, 'fraid so – sweethearts would be lucky to get away for under $300 after wine, tax, and tip (thanks to gift certificates from A. & J.-A., we didn't have to absorb the full brunt of that). Good? That doesn't begin to describe the place. Petoncles, foie gras, morue noire, fromages . . . mmm. Add a great wine list to that. Oh, and good service. And funky decor.
Anyway, happy anniversary to us . . . and bom apetite.
Lauri's troupe had two numbers, and Bonnie was in the first of these. She's new at this, so of course her role was a supporting one – i.e., "You new girls stand in the back row!" This made it difficult for me to get clear photos of her (of course, my lack of skill with the digital SLR and telephoto had nothing to do with that), so all I have to show you are blown-up sections of very blurry snaps, which you can see to the left and right. I wouldn't normally crop out the people to whom those other arms are attached, except that there were lots of glowing eyes going on thanks to the theater lighting. This made the other dancers look like demons . . . and I'm not one to post unflattering pictures of attractive women.
As an aside, I sat with E. & D., and their six-year-old daugher Z. Z. is currently in a "pretty princess" phase, and the spectacle was exactly the sort of thing she would love: women dancing around in glittery costumes. I'll have to buy her some zils for her next birthday, so that she can more effectively drive E. & D. crazy.
Elvis sighting
7 May 2009 22:46
Sorry for the silence around here lately. First I had one illness, then another . . . and of course keeping up with work is always more of a challenge with that going on. Bits and pieces: • All the illnesses have finally taken their leave. The allergy was killed by steroids, and the doctor claims the flare-up was an aberration. The cold was killed by time, and by the next thing.
• The Power of Fir, in convenient pastille form. Yes, essence of Christmas tree, distilled into lozenges. See for yourself.
• Our fridge – the one for milk and eggs, not the troublesome wine fridge – was ailing. The thing couldn't keep ice cream in its little freezer (not that we don't have a deep freeze for that, but still), yet it managed to freeze everything on the top shelf of the fridge. Right. It was a unit of dubious provenance, chosen by our landlord. We hated it. So this week, we replaced it. The new unit is more efficient yet uses less power, a result of it being manufactured in this millennium rather than in about 1980. What's coolest is that we bought it from Elvis. See his business card at right.
• I will post the final recap of my Dawn of Magic campaign, now that I'm feeling better. I'll probably tackle that on the weekend.
• We're about to start up our new campaign. It's about secret agents: "The Company is a clandestine organization with a sworn mission to deal with injustice and human suffering wherever it may be found. This doesn’t mean food and medical aid, war-crimes trials, or lobbying against dictators – although you’ve been assured that the Directors contribute vast sums of money to such efforts. No, this means action against the people who cause the problems . . . action that goes beyond peacekeepers and law-officer exchanges . . . direct action." So far, we have a reformed Cosa Nostra bomb-builder, a former MPS antiterrorism officer, an ex-PLA sniper and saboteur, a retired Special Forces combat medic, and a former UN linguist. Their cover story is a jazz band. It should be interesting.
Two weeks ago, I wrote about how gaming and then a baladi event didn't quite work out. Well, this weekend, very similar plans went much better! Planning is everything . . .
Saturday, M., Y., Bonnie, and I hit Nil Bleu again. They still don't have a site for me to link, but they do have some tasty Ethiopian food. On that topic: We have an Ethiopian cookbook (which goes by the rather generic title Exotic Ethiopian Cooking), but it lacks a recipe for gored gored. If anybody out there has a gored gored recipe, please write. However, I know that gored gored is supposed to be raw while the dish we like is cooked in spiced butter, so what I'm really after is "something like gored gored, but cooked."
Saturday, M., Y., Bonnie, and I hit Nil Bleu again. They still don't have a site for me to link, but they do have some tasty Ethiopian food. On that topic: We have an Ethiopian cookbook (which goes by the rather generic title Exotic Ethiopian Cooking), but it lacks a recipe for gored gored. If anybody out there has a gored gored recipe, please write. However, I know that gored gored is supposed to be raw while the dish we like is cooked in spiced butter, so what I'm really after is "something like gored gored, but cooked."
Sunday was the second run at things. Again, I went to play Unhallowed Metropolis . . . but this time, we played. It was good fun, even if I did ham things up with a lousy Prussian accent. To be fair, nobody tried to stop me. Then we went to Café Sarajevo once again to see Bonnie's baladi troupe perform. This time, dancing happened! We also arrived early enough that the kitchen was open, so I got to try burek for the first time, which I really liked. The café advertised this as Bosniac fare, but the dish seemed more Serbian in style. (Yes, I'm acutely aware that I could get shot for saying that in some places.)
And unlike two weeks ago, I'm ending the weekend with an Italian brandy (di Poli) instead of a Noilly Prat, which is probably a more fitting drink for the end of a weekend.
Last night, Bonnie and I went out with E. & D. to celebrate E.'s birthday. The four of us always have fun on birthdays! I'm writing about this particular occasion because the restaurant was quite good. We wanted Indian food, and so D. got us reservations at Gandhi, in vieux Montréal. I'm extremely leery of restaurants in that area. The whole quarter is a tourist trap, and nothing there has especially fair pricing. But it came recommended by E., who had a working lunch there, so I was willing to suspend prejudice for the evening.
I'm glad I did! The restaurant itself had recently expanded, and was comfortable and spacious. It was also very clean. The staff were great, showing up as needed without getting in your face – a hard balance to maintain. And unlike a lot of places in this city, it wasn't thundering with music, trying to be a nightclub or something. Oh, and it smelled great.
As for the food, I can only speak for myself. I started with vegetable samosas, which were light and fluffy, with pleasant spice and almost no greasiness. Then I had lamb vindaloo, which was fiery without being Bangalore phal-level brutal – with lots of subtle spicing that was detectable over the fire – and which had large chunks of meat and vegetables (I intensely dislike it when the contents of a curry consist of tiny smithereens). With that I had naan, made on the premises, that was perfectly poofy and rich, with just the right level of crunch around the very edges.
My dining companions seemed to enjoy their meals, too. The only "complaint" was that the servings were more-than-generous. That might be common elsewhere, but not in Montréal.
So if you happen to be in the area and seeking Indian cuisine, I'd happily recommend Gandhi.
I'm glad I did! The restaurant itself had recently expanded, and was comfortable and spacious. It was also very clean. The staff were great, showing up as needed without getting in your face – a hard balance to maintain. And unlike a lot of places in this city, it wasn't thundering with music, trying to be a nightclub or something. Oh, and it smelled great.
As for the food, I can only speak for myself. I started with vegetable samosas, which were light and fluffy, with pleasant spice and almost no greasiness. Then I had lamb vindaloo, which was fiery without being Bangalore phal-level brutal – with lots of subtle spicing that was detectable over the fire – and which had large chunks of meat and vegetables (I intensely dislike it when the contents of a curry consist of tiny smithereens). With that I had naan, made on the premises, that was perfectly poofy and rich, with just the right level of crunch around the very edges.
My dining companions seemed to enjoy their meals, too. The only "complaint" was that the servings were more-than-generous. That might be common elsewhere, but not in Montréal.
So if you happen to be in the area and seeking Indian cuisine, I'd happily recommend Gandhi.
Ever had one of those weekends where a whole lot of ordinary stuff added up to "good," despite no one part of it being remarkable and some parts of it being "bleah," taken out of context? I just did.
Saturday started out with a haircut, which is among the most mundane things that a person can do. Yet getting rid of an unwanted mop is refreshing. Then I went home . . . and finished my tax prep for 2008. "Oh boy," you're thinking, "this guy is boring. He should've been an accountant." Probably! But getting that crap out of the way – a haircut for a few weeks and taxes for an entire year – leaves one feeling accomplished. (And later that day, I got a mitraillette from Frite Alors as a reward for the taxes, which helped!)
Today, I went to play in that Unhallowed Metropolis campaign I joined. Unfortunately, we didn't have quorum. Instead, I went with my fellow gamers to the home of one of their friends – someone I didn't know – and proceded to have a good conversation over coffee. Later, I went up to a Bosniac place, Café Sarajevo, where Bonnie's baladi troupe had a performance. They had quorum issues as well . . . but once again, things were transformed by coffee and conversation. On the way home, we hit Kilo for some cake, too.
Sitting here at the end of it all, sipping a Noilly Prat (yes, I'm the sort of barbarian who drinks an apéro at midnight on a Sunday) to take the edge off all the allongés I drank, I'm left with this feeling of "Gee, getting some unwork done, and taking time simply to converse, sure is nice." Let's see if I can spin this feeling out until Tuesday, at least.
