What I've Been Up To....

When not out enjoying the weather, or semi-enjoying sporting events*, the past 2 weeks have been dominated by Dexter. Dexter the TV show and Dexter Morgan, the character. We rented the season 1 DVDs over Easter weekend and now we're in the middle of the second season.

As you can probably surmise from that last stat, we looooove this fucking show.

And I now have a small crush on a soulless, fictional serial killer.

Just another day in the life of Patchoulia!

I've also been going to the gym quite a bit, after work. The gym I go to is at my office, which is obviously the epitome of convenience There are no excuses not to work out - except on those days when you forget your t-shirt at home, on top of the dryer - exercising in a metallic satiny blouse somehow just doesn't do it for me.
 It's a pretty good facility, despite a distinct insufficiency of group fitness classes that appeal to me (Yogalates, anyone? WTF is a yogalate? Is that some kind of new-age coffee beverage?).

The gym has decent equipment in pretty good quantities - even during the "rush" periods, you can usually get on a machine or use the weights you need.

Best of all, it only costs $5 every 2 weeks and it's taken right off my paycheque!

Recently, the fitness centre staff have been sending out regular emails reminding members to lock up their stuff because they've been experiencing a lot of thefts lately. There are signs all over the locker room as well,  reminding us to lock up our belongings or risk losing them.

The other night, I had to take a squirt** before working out, so I hauled all my crap (backpack, jacket, purse) into the bathroom stall with me before heading to the locker room. I did what I had to do, got changed, locked up my stuff (per posted warnings) and proceeded to get sweaty.

Later, after I'd finished working out, I opened my locker and realized that my purse wasn't there. Suddenly, it dawned on me that I'd left it hanging on the coat-hook in the bathroom stall. Then I started hyperventilating - after all, we've been led to believe that the gym at our office is a veritable wonderland for thieves! My purse has EVERYTHING in it - keys, money, my new passport, 4 different awesome lip glosses!!! NOOOOO!!!!

I checked the stall...my purse was gone. I quickly gathered my (remaining) belongings and went over to the gym office, hoping against hope that someone might have turned it in. Two employees were inside the office, chit-chatting (get back to work, ya lazy buggers!) with the door open, and, as I approached, I noticed my purse sitting on the floor beside one of the desks. Yay!!!

I was so relieved! Despite making it ridiculously easy for them to rob me, I somehow avoided being hit by the Mount Pleasant Club ring of thieves. Woohoo! My possessions were intact inside my purse.

Thank you, to whoever saved my purse for me. Your karma was just kicked up a huge notch.
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*The Jays are doing well, started on the road...not doing as great at home, but doing OK. The Raptors ended their season this week and we had a good time, watching them win their last regular season game, but not making it into the playoffs...again..

**Dexter's sister is a bit of a potty-mouth...not as charming about it as I am, but a pretty good cusser nonetheless. Anyway. One of the episodes had a female character indicating her need to expel some urine by saying, "I need to take a squirt" and I thought it was such a charming & sophisticated phrase that I simply needed to use it as soon and as often as possible. You're welcome.

Pasta w/Mushrooms & Spinach in Rosee Sauce

Last night, I created a delicious dish for dinner: Bruschetta alongside garlicky pasta w/mushrooms & spinach in rosee sauce.

Bruschetta was pretty basic....chopped up tomatoes, minced garlic, chopped fresh basil, minced red onion, olive oil, salt & pepper on fresh bread from the Cheese Boutique. Mmmmm.

For the pasta sauce, I sauteed the mushrooms & spinach for a few minutes (w/some garlic & chili flakes) until much of their inherent water evaporated and then set them aside. I added some olive oil to the same pan and sauteed some more garlic (I really do love garlic) and a medium-sized onion.

Once the onions started to soften, I added a large can of diced tomotoes, some tomato paste, oregano, chili flakes, chopped fresh basil & some black pepper. I let that simmer while the pasta was cooking.

When the pasta was almost ready, I pureed the sauce in the blender (in 2 batches) so it would mix seemlessly with the cream, then put it back in the pot on low heat and slowly stirred in the cream. It was a thing of beauty. Once the sauce had heated thoroughly, I stirred in the previously sauteed mushrooms & spinach.

Voila! Veggie rosee Sauce a la Patchoulia! It was quite divine!

(My food pornography-phography skills need a lot of work, so I had to steal a reasonable facsimile picture off the internet...)

Ingredients
mushrooms (to your taste)
spinach (to your taste)
1 onion
garlic (to your taste)
chili flakes (to your taste)
1 can diced tomatoes
tomato paste (1/2 small can)
3/4 tablespoon oregano
basil leaves, chopped (several)
olive oil for sauteeing
cream (half small carton)

What does heaven taste like, you ask?

Ah, Good Friday. What's so good about it? We get the day off work, of course! (I know, I know, I'm going to hell...that's not news...).

I left work a bit early yesterday (thank you, boss!) and took a nice long walk...I was WAY too hot, though. I definitely didn't need a coat!

Along the way I picked up some gifts @ Chapters and then picked up some mail at the post office that required my signature. The delivery turned out to be my passport, which was somewhat surprising, since I'd mailed in my renewal form only a couple of weeks ago - that was fast!

Incidentally, my new passport contains the worst, most hideous picture I've ever seen. You might think I'm exagerrating, but you could not be more wrong. When I say this is the worst picture I've ever seen, I'm not even limiting the comparison to pictures of myself - I can confidently proclaim that this is the most putrid picture ever taken of anyone, anywhere in the world, in the history of the universe.

After I ran my errands, I walked home and we took Kuda to the dog park for some frolicking (stick-throwing, trail-running, doggy-friend-making etc.)

Upon returning home, we commenced our daily debate on what we were going to have for dinner. I swear to god, if I didn't love eating so much, I'd survive by ingesting nutrient-rich pills or subsist on those meal-replacement shakes, and be done with the whole, stupid decision-making process/daily argument.

I won't bore you with all the meals & restaurants that were discussed & rejected before we finally made our decision, which was to go out to eat. We chose Classico Pizza & Pasta, in our neighbourhood (it's located in Bloor West Village, near Jane, for those of you in Toronto).

We've eaten there a few times and enjoyed it a lot. Their pizza is reeeally good and they also have a variety of pasta dishes.  They also serve one particular appetizer that we adore...I can't remember what it's called, but it's like a spring roll filled with cheese that you dip in a tart vinaigrette. Sounds like an odd combo, but the different flavours complement each other very well and it is AMAZING! Unfortunately, it wasn't on the menu last night (Poop seems to recall that it was previously on a list of specials inserted into the menu, so perhaps they only serve it occasionally...I hope it comes back!).

When we arrived, we realized that they'd opened their patio (Yay! Patio season!) which effectively doubled their capacity...good thing, too, cuz it was packed! We hadn't realized that they have live music on Thursday nights...I don't know the musician's name, but he was playing guitar & singing (later joined by a sax player); they were pretty good and it created a nice ambience.

It was a little chilly on the patio, but we had our fleeces on, so it wasn't too bad. Besides which, there were 2 tables full of families inside the restaurant with their unleashed (and, by "unleashed", I don't mean "let loose", I mean "not on leashes", as I would prefer), screeching children running rampant and I had no interest in being anywhere near that.

We ordered a couple of glasses of Shiraz (it was their "featured" wine that night, which worked out well, since it's my fave!). Poop ordered a Greek salad to start and I decided on the soup of the day. It was tomato something or other...not worth remembering...it was very bland, I barely touched it...to their credit, the server offered to take it back and bring me the other soup to try, but I wasn't interested.

The pizza was delicious (tomato sauce, tons of broccoli, sundried tomatoes, goat cheese); we ended up eating half and taking the rest home, which made for a delicious lunch the next day!

As we ate, I fell victim to the power of suggestion; I witnessed several other patrons receiving fancy coffee (with whipped cream on top!) and I simply needed to have one, too (or I might have died, you understand). Poop decided to order creme brulee for dessert; I've never had creme brulee, but it always looks like so much fun when they set it on fire - and the end result is always so lovely to look at. :)

I received my fancy coffee (with whipped cream & Bailey's) and Poop got his creme brulee (they didn't bring the blow-torch to the table, which was disappointing).

My coffee was delectable and I was convinced to try Poop's dessert, after much pestering. How was the creme brulee....?

Let me put it this way: If you believe heaven exists, this is what it would taste like.

I attempted some trickery....I mentioned that I thought I detected poison & it would be better for Poop if he didn't eat any more of it - I was, in essence, saving his life - but he didn't fall for it.

 *sigh*

I gave it a shot.

I love you, creme brulee.

Ooooh thinkin' about all our younger years, there was only you & me, we were young & wild & custardy....**

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**Bryan Adams' ode to creme brulee

Julie & Julia & Julia

We watched the movie Julie & Julia on the weekend. I was definitely disappointed, I was expecting more. Meryl Streep's performance was, as usual, beyond reproach, but, overall, I found the film to be pretty dull. I didn't become emotionally invested in the characters, so I didn't really care what happened to them. On a positive note, it was quite lovely to look at, the portion of the film focusing on Julia Child (set in France) was particularly beautiful.

One thing that happens to me when I watch a film or TV show whose characters are based on (or allegedly portraying) "real" people is that I become sort of obsessed with finding out the "real" story. Historically, very few filmic portrayals of famous figures are done without some degree of artistic license, and I find myself wanting to know more, needing clarity as to what actually happened, wondering where they ended up etc etc.

At the end of Julie & Julia I immediately reached for the computer to find out how Julia Child ended up becoming the famous chef & TV personality "Julia Child" (the film focused on a brief period in her life when she first moved to France, learned to cook "the French way" at the Cordon Bleu and collaborated on her first cookbook).

I also became curious about the "Julie" of the title, who became quite well known back in 2002 for her food blog, the "Julie/Julia Project". If you've read the book on which the film was based, or seen the movie, you already know the story: In her 2002-2003 blog, Julie Powell chronicled her endeavours to prepare each of the recipes contained within Julia Child's Mastering the Art of French Cooking in a 1-year period.

My preliminary internet search for Julie Powell turned up a plethora of ink* on the author & her 2nd book, Cleaving, that had been released in the latter half of 2009.

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*Can we still refer to written press as "ink" even if there's no ink involved and it only exists in cyberspace? Ladies & gentlemen, my pointless conundrum/aside of the day....applause, applause, applause...
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In reading the (mostly) scathing reviews of her new book and profuse indictments of the author herself (moreso for her attitude and "shocking" stories she reveals in Cleaving, than for her writing) I became intrigued. The Julie Powell being described in these pieces - foul-mouthed, unapologetically self-centered,  brazenly adulterous - bears little resemblance to the bland, saccharine-sweet, semi-endearing, pathetic, oft-victimized Julie Powell portrayed in the film. The real Julie Powell sounded eminently more appealing and my interest was piqued.

I figured that I should start from the beginning and hoped that the original "Julie/Julia Project" blog was extant on the internet. I wasn't sure it would be, considering its contents were made into a book  (you know...cow, milk, free $$$...etc.) However, a bit of searching revealed that it is still out there and set upon my quest to read the entire project, from beginning to end...which I accomplished in less than 48 hours.

You could say I was a trifle obsessed.

I'm not sure why I found it such compelling reading. But, I suppose it shouldn't be all that surprising, considering its popularity during its original incarnation (apparently becoming one of salon.com's most visited blogs ever, with hundreds of thousands of hits during that first year alone).

I will confess, I did speed-read parts of it...and, by speed-read, I mean, I only skimmed certain portions. Since I have no interest in French cuisine, either preparing it or consuming it, the sections devoted to the minutiae of the recipes - ingredients, cooking methods etc. - were quite tedious & extremely repetitive (butter, anyone?).

Besides which, consuming all of that French cooking (writing) in one sitting can't be good for one's arteries.

So, as I read through the blog entries, I did skip what I considered to be the more rote sections and went straight to what I considered the meat of the saga: The successes & failures, trials & tribulations of Julie Powell in both her kitchen & her life.

I can see why so many people became fans of the blog, it was quite entertaining. And, other than her penchant for using the word "phase" when she meant to be using the verb "faze" (as you know, this type of faux pas is anathema to me), I thought it was exceptionally well-written.

I actually found her voice as a writer to be alarmingly similar to my own: Self-deprecating (yet superior), self-aware (yet self-absorbed), witty (yet whiny) and replete with mother-fucking expletives. Odd dichotomies, to be sure, but, as the douchebags at my old job were wont to say: It is what it is.

Additional similarities became apparent when I visited her current blog "What Could Happen?" (http://juliepowell.blogspot.com/). I was immediately taken aback by the subtitle of the blog: "Musings from a Soiled & Narcisstic Whore" - because I had literally *just* hung up the phone after speaking with a gentleman about pre-planning my funeral and I had told him that I wanted almost that EXACT phrase carved into my tombstone! What are the odds??!

Just kidding. I'm not pre-planning my funeral (I'm totally getting cremated).

But....whore? Yes. I have been characterized as such.

Narcisstic? Who me? Me me mememememe!!! Look at MEEEEEEEEE!!

Soiled? Hmm. I'd say spoiled. Or rotten. But, close enough.

Anyway...

I'm definitely going to read Cleaving, despite the plethora of negative reviews I came across. I have to assume that the detractors are puritanical, morally superior, vegetarians: Who *doesn't* want to read a sordid tale of extra-marital S & M, interspersed with first-hand accounts of what it takes to become a butcher?! That's gold, Jerry...gold!!

The bottom line result of this week's obsession is that I plan to try more new things in the kitchen. And not be thwarted when I see an unfamiliar ingredient listed in a recipe (So what if I only use it ONCE?! Big deal!)

And I will share these endeavours with the world...why not...if she can do it, I can do it!

Plus, I desperately need to get working on a project of some kind, so that those business cards that I had printed up with my title listed as "Project Manager" won't just big fat falsehoods. I hate handing out falsehoods when I'm networking.

Until tomorrow, lovelies!
 ~ Julia Patchoulia