girls are weird.

29 March 2006

sweet merciful crap

"The Grizzlies and Krispy Kreme Doughnuts have teamed up to create 'Baseball's Best Burger.' The burger, which was debuted at the Grizzlies' December 10th sale, consists of a thick and juicy burger topped with sharp cheddar cheese and two slices of bacon. The burger is then placed in between each side of a Krispy Kreme Original Glazed doughnut." [source]

Surely this is a sign of the apocalypse.

[posted by: Lisa Durbin] --

it's a mystery

On Friday, I'm being whisked away for a birthday meal at a mystery location, which I've been informed is "somewhere nice". I've bought a fancy new frock and everything. All I know is that we're heading for my in-laws' earlier in the day and we're taking advantage of their free childminding services that evening. How very exciting!

Every year since my Rome/engagement birthday surprise weekend, Paul reminds me that the current birthday won't be quite as elaborate. It really doesn't matter, though - I'm the kind of girl who thinks Pizza Hut or a good burger makes for a scintillating dining experience. I'm thrilled by meals cooked by other people (especially Paul), my idea of heaven is a lie-in, and my favourite day trip is to the seaside. I'm a simple gal, really. Buy me a 2kg bar of Toblerone and you're my friend for life. Send me Kraft Dinner and Peanut Butter Cups from home and I'll love you forever. Clean my house and I'll be permanently indebted to you.

But just because my affection can be bought with prepackaged macaroni products, I'm not easy, just so you know.

[posted by: Lisa Durbin] --

26 March 2006

i like commercial holidays, so sue me

At nursery on Friday, my son made me a card with his handprints and pencil scribbles on the inside:

and today, I got some lovely flowers that came with a lovely balloon:

This evening, Paul cooked us a fantastic roast beef dinner with a very chocolatey dessert. I cried when I got my card and I had an amazing day today. Poosticks to anyone who says that Mother's Day is just commercial pap. Poosticks, I say. Scribbly cards are what it's all about.

Happy (UK) Mother's Day, you excellent mamas.

[posted by: Lisa Durbin] --

24 March 2006

come home - all is forgiven

Oh Summer, where have you gone? Do you remember the days when you'd shine brightly upon us, bathing us in your sunny goodness? I fondly recall when I'd open our French doors, sit outside sipping wine and watch my husband grill something on the barbeque. We'd turn the music up and ignite our citronella tea lights (that fizzle out after an hour or two), switch on my funky fairy lights, and listen to toads procreate in our pond. We spent long evenings with you, watching dragonflies gobble up mosquitoes, periodically spotting the weird neighbour kid bouncing up and down on that godforsaken trampoline. We lit the chiminea and sat in front of it all night, coming in smelling of smoke and covered in ash.

Oh Summer, where have you gone? I want to switch off the boiler and wear strappy sandals. I want to put my heavy coat and boots away. I want to change togs on our duvet. I want to enjoy frozen alcoholic beverages without needing to put on a sweater.

Summer, please come back. Isn't the southern hemisphere done with you yet?

[posted by: Lisa Durbin] --

23 March 2006

an open letter to my workmates

I feel I must apologise to the people who sit close to my desk for the following:

The uncontrollable tickly cough I've had all afternoon. It must be like sitting next to a chain-smoking old man.
The whistle in my nose. I couldn't hear it because I had noise cancelling headphones on, but when I took them off, I was mortified to hear the sound of a dying recorder emitting from my left nostril.
That sneezing fit I just had, and all the sniffling and nose blowing afterwards. I know it's kind of gross.
My loud voice. Every time I speak slightly above library level, one of the developer guys near me whips his head around and glares at me. Perhaps he's secretly in love with me. Ah, that must be it.

Thank you, that is all.

[posted by: Lisa Durbin] --

16 March 2006

donuts. is there anything they can't do?

I kept meaning to try a Krispy Kreme doughnut just to see what all the hubbub was about. We finally got a shop near my parents in Mississauga, which we travelled past several times a few years ago but never managed to go into. We passed many Krispy Kreme outlets on our American travels, but didn't go inside. I stood outside of the Krispy Kreme in Bluewater, but the queue was enormous and I was hugely pregnant at the time. I couldn't stand in one spot for long, not even for a doughnut. Last Christmas, I vowed to finally get a taste of that deep fried goodness, but once again, we merely passed it on the way to and from various shopping excursions. So finally, my friend Susan offered to bring some doughnuts to me after visiting her mum in London. After several years, I finally bit into a Krispy Kreme doughnut.

It was pretty good, but kind of weird. More cakey than doughy like a regular doughnut, and incredibly sweet (which is a common thing I noticed about most American foods since moving here). I had a Tim Horton's doughnut when we drove from Toronto to Montreal, which I preferred. It's likely got more to do with what I'm used to rather than what actually tastes better. Speaking of doughnut shops, I asked my brother-in-law where cops hang out in this country as there are very few doughnut shops. He wasn't sure, so answers on a postcard, please.

I was telling my friend Em today that I seldom have non-baby things to blog about, and it's a real struggle to come up with something for this blog...which should be painfully obvious from today's post. Please feel free to clink any one of the links on the left for more riveting reading.

[posted by: Lisa Durbin] --

10 March 2006

shocked and dismayed in godmanchester

I quite enjoy the television programme "Ready Steady Cook", especially if you hit the mute button whenever Ainsley opens his mouth. For those of you not in the know, it's like a game show where contestants bring in a bag of ingredients (usually costing less than £5) and celebrity chefs have to whip up a few dishes in under 20 minutes. I always found it quite impressive, particularly when contestants would bring in bags containing things like pickled eggs and Mars bars. Before the chefs begin, contestants explain why they chose the items they brought in while the chefs wrack their brains thinking up ideas. Then they cook like the dickens and end up with around four or more different dishes, and the audience votes on which chef's food looks tastiest. With me so far?

Right, so, yesterday I made a horrifying discovery. Contestants do not actually pick what they bring! A message posted by a former contestant to the BBC web site stated that she didn't get to choose the items in her bag and had to make up reasons why she included these items. I started to get suspicious a few weeks ago when one of the chefs said "I was thinking about this in the car on the way over..." when he was considering what to make. Now how would he be able to think about something he supposedly hasn't seen yet? Eh? EH?

Pffft.

[posted by: Lisa Durbin] --

08 March 2006

knitwit

I think I want to learn how to knit. Forget the fact that all the celebs have taken it up, I just feel like my life might be enhanced somehow if I could make a jaunty scarf or a very small blanket. I'm not one for artsy crafty things, but there is something therapeutic about the click-clacking sound of knitting needles. I'm fascinated by my mother-in-law's ability to expertly loop yarn around a finger and perform mysterious movements with knitting needles without even looking. I like the idea of a quiet moment in front of the television, click-clacking away after a very long and demanding day. Some people do puzzles to relax. Some have been swept up by Soduku-mania. Some people drink heavily. Me, I want to make tea cosies.

I'm still cool though, right?

[posted by: Lisa Durbin] --

07 March 2006

half baked

My father-in-law offered to toast some bread for my sandwich. He put the bread on my plate and I noticed that only one side had been toasted. Now here comes one of those "I'm not crazy, YOU'RE crazy" moments I often have in this country. Apparently, most English people only toast one side of the bread (the outside) when making a sandwich such as a BLT. I never even knew that you could do such a thing in a toaster, let alone thought about how the toast will get soggy if it's toasted on the inside. It does make sense, though. When you make a cheese toastie (or a grilled cheese to us North Americans), the inside isn't toasted. Think about it! Or not.

Residents of the UK and ex-pats may notice my habit of writing posts about the differences (usually culinary) I've noticed here. I truly don't want to come across as a whingey tourist; the kind that compels you to shout "If you don't like it, go back to [insert city of origin here] and your supersized nachos!" Besides, it works both ways. I am certain that at this very moment, there are thousands of British ex-pats in Canada who are staring at a plate of poutine and wondering which circle of hell could have produced such a dish. They recoil in horror as we douse everything in ketchup, flee in terror from our numerous peanut butter-flavoured food items, and gasp in disbelief at our pogos. While much of my writing includes phrases such as "Good lord, what is wrong with you people?", it's always written out of love. No, really.

For any government officials who may be reading my blog, please take this into consideration when I apply for citizenship in the near future. I love England and the Queen is really excellent. Thank you.

[posted by: Lisa Durbin] --

02 March 2006

bring out the huskies

"Pupils in the north of Scotland and parts of Wales are being told to stay at home for a second day following snowfalls of more than 10cm.

Forecasters say snow will hit more areas overnight, including parts of the south, with temperatures as low as -7C." [source]

10cm and -7C, eh? Sounds like the time of year for restaurants to re-open their terraces in Montreal.

[posted by: Lisa Durbin] --

01 March 2006

drown me in syrup and call me a flapjack

Every year I bang on about weird English pancakes on Shrove Tuesday and this year, I am pleased to announce, is no different. Okay fine, I'll accept the fact that many Europeans enjoy the thinner crepe-like pancake as opposed to our North American fat n' fluffy variety. Crepes are nice, especially when you slather them with Nutella and stuff them full of bananas. What I cannot get my head around is the concept of Jif lemon as a pancake topping. For those of you not in the know, Jif lemons are those plastic squeezy lemons filled with lemon juice often found in the fruit and veg section. English people like to put this stuff on their crepey pancakes and sprinkle sugar on them. Good lord people, WHY? You can get maple syrup here - use it! Enjoy it! Savour the sweetness that is the pancake topping! Why torture yourself with the sour taste of plastic lemons when you can slop syrup all over your chin with wild abandon?

They had English pancakes at the nursery yesterday, but apparently Jack wouldn't touch them. After supper last night, I gave Jack a "Canadian" pancake.

Being part Canadian, his stomach must reside in the Canadian half.

[posted by: Lisa Durbin] --