I was in Moncton earlier this week for the first time since early June. It felt weird to go so long between visits, considering I was going once or twice per month for the first ~20 months of the new job. No new dinner venues whilst there, but the weather was so gorgeous that after work one day I walked down to Happy Craft Brewing in search of a patio seat. It’s a tricky thing, that: I want to be outside, but I don’t want to be in direct sun. Luckily, the sun had dipped behind the building in such a way that some brand new shade presented itself, and I grabbed it. I drank a tropical sour and a NE IPA and enjoyed the moderate warmth. The patio was full of people playing board games, munching on popcorn, chatting and laughing. Next to me was a table of guys, one of whom was playing Jenga with his young son while trying to help his friend track down mental health resources. It was kind of beautiful, in no small part because I can’t imagine that happening in a Moncton pub not very long ago.
Back in Toronto, Lindsay and I also tried a new (to us) place while doing errands this afternoon: Hastings Snack Bar. She had a few pierogies; I ate an absolutely killer pork schnitzel sandwich. We sat outside under a spreading tree and drank Wellington SPAs and thought to ourselves, why have we never come here before? I mean, sure, we were eventually chased away by hornets, but that’s hardly HSB’s fault.
I like retronyms. Not quite as much as I like a good portmanteau, but they’re still pretty interesting. It’s been fun to see some emerge in my lifetime (e.g., landline phone or snail mail) while others I used for my whole life without ever thinking about it (e.g., cloth diaper or acoustic guitar).
Lately I’ve been thinking about this article — Coffee Is No Longer The Most Important Part of Coffee by Anna Maria Arriaga (link) — and thinking there’s another retronym around the corner.
The article, as the title suggests, talks about how coffee culture is evolving from its third wave — single origin coffee, pour overs, nerds arguing about burr vs. blade grinders, and so on — is giving way to a fourth wave where the coffee is incidental to the coffee drink, giving way to foams, sweeteners, flavour syrups, etc.
“In short, coffee’s fourth wave is defined by everything other than the coffee itself. Maximalist add-ins, flavor combinations, and iced drinks naturally gain popularity when the coffee industry attempts to appeal to younger generations.”
Given this, I think some retronym will emerge to distinguish third-wave coffee. We already had “regular coffee” to distinguish it from decaf, but I’d argue decaf was and is more of the exception, so I’m not sure I’d count that. “Black coffee” was kind of a retronym I suppose, though I read it as more of a stated option.
We also had “drip coffee” which was meant to distinguish from espresso-based drinks, once those became dominant, so there’s that. But I suspect we’re going to end up with something more broadly representing third wave coffee-forward coffee drinks in all forms — that is, the usual lineup at any third wave coffee shop. (Roughly: drip, espresso, cappuccino, latte, maybe a cortado if they fancy.) What that’ll be, I’m not sure — “third wave” is way too clunky.
Maybe this has already happened and I’m just not inside-coffee enough to know. I just like guessing where retronyms are likely to emerge.
I never wanted to live in a house. I was happy living in a condo where I barely had to worry about anything. Sure, there was no backyard and limited floor space, but there was no shovelling, no dragging bins to the sidewalk, and most of all — no major repairs.
Our current house has, until now, not been too bad. But the longer we’re here, the more we realize that the previous owner seems to have done a bunch of work on the house himself, because a lot of stuff just…doesn’t work the way it’s supposed to.
A couple months ago, everything just seemed to go wrong at once:
Our kitchen sink began backing up. We called a plumber. He snaked it and fixed the cheater, which had been installed below the sink water level.
Unrelated to the kitchen sink, water started dripping through the basement ceiling. That seemed to be related to a shower hair clog, as best I can tell.
When I turned on the water supply to the backyard, I noticed a leak in the water line. I noticed it because it sprayed me in the face. The plumber fixed that too.
Also while “opening up” the backyard for the spring, I realized there was no gas getting to our grill. When I had the deck cleaned last year the cleaners must have unhooked the grill, and not hooked it back up properly, and now it’s jammed so hard into the side of the wall (another gift left behind by the previous owner) that I have yet to be able to re-attach it.
The basement toilet suddenly isn’t flushing properly. Or, rather, sometimes it does and sometimes it doesn’t.
I had a roofer in to repair the disintegrating roof over the vestibule of the house. He checked the main roof and said there was a big problem with the fascia, even though the last guys to go up there said the roof was fine.
Our old patio furniture, for which we overpaid when we moved in, has basically started disintegrating, so we had to buy new stuff. We ordered it months ago; it arrived at the house in the middle of all this, and now I need to figure out a way to truck away the old stuff. At least the new stuff is really nice, weather resistant, and easy to clean.
The neighbourhood raccoons have redoubled their efforts to turn our rainwater catch basin into their local latrine.
Worst of all, maybe, is the fridge. It started acting up months ago — first the water line and ice cube maker conked out, so I called a repair company. They showed up, said they just needed to order a part and it’d be fine. Four months later and many phone calls on my part, they’ve never called me back, nor shown up with the part, nor refunded my money. Slowly, the fridge died completely, and became a big hot power-sucking box in the kitchen. We ordered a new one, an updated version of the same model, and they showed up, only to inform us that there was no way to get the old fridge out of the house. As far as they can tell, the last guy brought the fridge in and built the kitchen around it. They kindly took the fridge back, charging me only a restocking fee, but we were left with no fridge and no path forward. This one is still very much ongoing; in the meantime we’re living out of a cheap dorm fridge. It’s fucking ridiculous.
Sure, the fridge thing could have happened in a condo too, but the rest of it is house bullshit. I’m not handy enough to fix it myself, and I have too much on the go to project-manage it all. Surely there’s a service for this?
I turned 50 last week. The day itself wasn’t very remarkable — I worked a full day, and we just ordered some dinner. No big blowout trip, and even the little long weekend getaway we planned didn’t start until the next day.
After another full workday we drove crawled to Elora, arriving at the Elora Mill just in time for our dinner reservation. We sat outside and ordered the Celebration menu, which was a four course tasting menu — or rather, two different versions, so we could share. I can’t remember all the details of each course, but here it is to the best of my memory:
Strawberry basil gazpacho amuse bouche
Tomato tart // duck terrine
Lobster in a tomato sauce // sourdough angel hair pasta
Seared scallops // venison
Black forest cake // pistachio cake
Wine pairings
Birthday cannoli
We went for an after-dinner walk, enjoying the temperate evening when such things have been in short supply.
I got back in time for some room service breakfast to arrive. We savored yet another kickass meal from downstairs, and enjoyed the view from our room.
We needed some exercise, so we walked up the hill to Victoria Park, took the stairs down to Irvine Creek, and took in the view of the gorge.
Once we ascended, it had warmed up quite a lot, and a drink was in order. We fancied a cocktail, so we went to The Lobby Bar. I had a pineapple vanilla sour; Lindsay had a hillstone crisp martini. Both were too sweet, and the vibe in there was weird, so we decamped for the Elora Brewing Company up the street. We took a patio table in the shade, and drank beers and ate pretzels and admired patio dogs.
We walked back to the hotel and just relaxed in that palatial room for a few hours. We’d liked dinner so much the night before we booked again for night #2. Our table wasn’t ready when we got there, so we killed time in the bar with glasses of Moet & Chandon Champagne. Once we had our table, we enjoyed yet another outstanding meal:
Grilled Lake Erie Pickerel for two w/ soused tomatoes, frites, watercress aïoli
a bottle of Cremant d’Alsace Blanc de Blancs
No late-night walk this time — it had been a long day, and we were spent.
Saturday
Alas, it was time to leave Elora Mill. Not before another room service breakfast though — their apple cinnamon scones are ridiculous. We cleaned up and packed up and left Elora for part two of the long weekend: Niagara-on-the-Lake.
We headed merrily down highway 6 before getting caught in the predictable misery of QEW traffic. We scrapped lunch plans and picked up our wine order at Five Rows (and there ran into an old Arterra colleague). We stopped for groceries in Virgil and late lunch at Silversmith, then drove to our AirBnB.
See that pool? We dropped our stuff and jumped straight into it.
It was a big beautiful house, so we relaxed, opened a bottle of 2019 Le Clos Jordanne Le Grand Clos Pinot Noir, made nachos, played some trivia, and crashed.
Sunday
Another sleep-in. Another dip in the pool. Coffee & breakfast nachos. A few errands: two nearby fruit stands, more groceries, and a stop at the Pie Plate.
Back at the house we opened a bottle of 2024 Five Rows Pinot Gris, played a round of Pandemic, snacked on fresh local fruit, had a wee nap, and then jumped back into the pool. Over the course of the day we drank a bottle of 2024 Five Rows Sauvignon Blanc while Lindsay made me a big dinner: caprese salad w/ local peaches, shrimp + chorizo fajitas, and peach pie & ice cream. We paired all that with a bottle of 2021 Leaning Post Clone 548 Chardonnay.
We somehow digested all that enough to go for a chilly night swim.
Monday
First order of business: get up, get packed, and get out of the AirBnB. But not before one last swim in the pool. We took the leftover pie & ice cream and ate it in the park across the road.
We’d been wanting some sparkling so we drove to Trius. Not a good experience. We paid $25 for three of their premium wines. The premium sparkling was flat — they acknowledged later it was the end of a bottle that had been opened the day before. The other two wines were meh. Given all that maybe we shouldn’t have bought any, but we didn’t want to leave empty-handed, and I know their top-end sparklings are good, so we held our noses.
We drove back to NotL for lunch at Treadwell, a ritual when we’re leaving town. We still don’t know what was going on in the city, but there was no parking anywhere. We ended up parking ten minutes away – illegally, mind you, but so was everyone else’s parking spot.
Lunch was, surprisingly, just okay: my scallops & pork belly were decent, but Lindsay’s mussels were underwhelming. Then we split a lobster club that did NOT feel worth the $49 price tag. It used to be cheaper and better, TBH.
We walked back to the car and braced ourselves for our commute home. Happily, it went about as perfectly as could be: no traffic jams (other than the Gardiner, where it’s always bad), no accidents…just smooth sailing. We were home in less than two hours, where we were greeted by a yelling cat.
Epilogue
I have heartburn from all the rich food & drink, and my muscles are sore from five swims in 40 hours, but other than that…50 feels pretty great.
I was hoping for a quiet couple of weeks following my return from Europe, but that it not what I got. There’s been stuff keeping me busy (in a good way, like a conference or lunch with a friend or visits from family) but also distracting me (a cold, everything in the house breaking at once).
Right after I got back I had a couple days’ work sprint and then went right into a conference — here in Toronto, so no travel, but it definitely consumed all of my intention for 2+ days. Always good to meet new people and re-gain some perspective (and have a nice dinner at Cafe Boulud), but the re-upping of the work to-do pile really made it feel as if I’d never even gotten back from vacation. I did wrap up the week over lunch with Matt at d|bar though, which was great.
Another consequence of that conference is that I developed a cold, my first in over a year as far as I can remember. It laid me low Monday through most of Wednesday. Fortunately it had mostly faded by the time brother #2 and sister-in-law #1 arrived. They were here for a visit, partially with us, partially with their daughter who lives just east of Toronto. On Friday they retrieved said daughter and we all had dinner at La Paella…
Medjool dates wrapped in bacon, stuffed with goat cheese, glazed with a guindilla sherry reduction
Croquetas
Tiger shrimps, garlic, guindillas, olive oil and sweet sherry wine
Artisan Sourdough Bread from Petit Thuet
a Paella which is not on their menu but which contained an extravagant amount of pork (ribs, pork belly, chorizo) along with red peppers, green beans, and butter beans
…followed by heaping bowls of ice cream procured from Craig’s Cookies, of all places.
Yesterday the three of them went to OssFest, then we played a game of Pandemic before they drove my niece home. We were all a bit tired, and the weather had turned to rain, so we just ordered some pizza and drank some wine and had a quiet final night together. This morning Bianca finally decided they were worth hanging out with, just as they were about to leave.
I could do without the cold or the work backlog, but I’ll take a nice family visit anytime. See you next year, guys!
I just had The Big Short on in the background, and something about the ISDA scene has always bugged me. I think I just figured out what.
Around the 1:00 mark, as they make their pitch to get an ISDA, Charlie explains that they’re “doing 30 million right now, but [they] started four years ago with a hundred and ten thousand.” The JP Morgan Chase peon explains that they’re $1.47 billion under the requirement for an ISDA, but to “keep up those returns and give us a call way down the road.” We, along with Jamie and Charlie, cringe with embarrassment.
Here’s the thing though: if they do keep up the same returns they’ve had in the past four years, they’re already more than halfway to that ISDA minimum.
The compound annual growth rate to have gotten from $110,000 to $30,000,000 in four years is 306.4%. That is, they’re quadrupling their money each year, and then some.
That means that a year from when that meeting takes place, Brownfield would have grown from $30 million to $122 million.
A year later it would have grown to $495 million.
If they kept going, they’d hit the $1.5 billion minimum for the ISDA just two years, nine months, and fifteen days from the time of that meeting.
I get that sustaining 306.4% returns for almost seven years is a stretch, but someone working on “Ted’s desk” at JPMC should be able to do enough quick math to determine that growth rate and not brush these guys off as being “way down the road”. Even a movie version of someone who probably never existed.
Back in April brother #1 and I surprised my mom with a trip for her birthday. She’d always wanted to do a river cruise in Europe, so we booked a Viking cruise for the three of us through the Netherlands and up the Rhine river, from Amsterdam to Basel. We left near the beginning of July and got back Sunday.
Thu Jul 3: Toronto
My flight left Toronto late. Their flight left Halifax later. Happily, we were to arrive in Amsterdam at roughly the same time. I managed to get a few hours’ sleep on the flight, after I watched Conclave.
Fri Jul 4: Amsterdam
The descent into Amsterdam is very beautiful, weather-permitting, and I had a perfect view on the way in. Their flight landed just after mine did, but they disembarked before I did. Then I got to customs before they did, but they cleared before I did. Schiphol, amirite?
They collected their own bags, and mine, and we did the long walk to the Uber pickup spot. Some ugly traffic later we arrived at the Hotel Fita. It was new to all of us, but it’s in the same neighbourhood I’ve stayed in during my last three visits to Amsterdam. Before anyone fell asleep we grabbed some lunch around the corner at The Uptown Meat Club, which was…weird. But fine. Then: back to the hotel. They napped; I got a coffee at District.
We met up at 5 and decided to do a canal cruise before we left Amsterdam, since Mom had never been there. We walked up to a Stromma booth; they sent us to a cruise downtown that had a small boat with an open top, so we took the tram to Centraal Station and walked. We were glad we did: the small, open boat was great, and our tour captain was also an opera singer! He sang us a few bars of O Sole Mio under a bridge – an unexpected treat.
Rather than eat around Damrak (god, it’s so touristy and awful there) we took the tram back to our neighbourhood and ate dinner at a little place called Pompa. It was tasty and chill, exactly what we wanted. We wandered back to our room and crashed.
Sat Jul 5: Amsterdam
We had a delicious breakfast at the hotel (the little crêpes they made were fantastic) before walking up the street to the Rijksmuseum. Neither my brother nor I had been there in years; Mom had never been, obviously. We started in the hall of honors on the third floor and spent a ton of time there. We eventually made our way around some parts of the other floors, but ultimately had to get back to the hotel to check out and get to the main event: the cruise.
We took an Uber to the dock, and ended up driving through the Jordaan neighbourhood. It was nice to be able to show mom that part of town, though she could hardly watch as we weaved through pedestrians and cyclists at close range. We eventually spied a Viking tent on the waterfront, checked in our bags, and boarded the boat. We had lunch while we waited for our rooms, then got checked in. We explored more of the boat, then walked around downtown a bit more, before getting back aboard for a trip briefing, followed by dinner. We were glad to not be on the schedule canal tour, as it was pouring rain.
Dinner was pretty good. I had bitterballen (they try to add regional dishes each night), brisket, and cheesecake. I also sprung for the nicer wine pairings during the whole trip, and again they focused on regional offerings: Riesling, Weissburgunder, etc. Forced socializing: we sat with a nice British couple, Ian and Diane, who had once lived in Atlanta and always wanted to visit Canada. After dinner, there was a live band playing music from the 50s, 60s, and 70s, which, given the average passenger age, went over well enough that I dubbed the hour “Senior Wilding.”
Sun Jul 6: Kinderdijk
We set sail at 11:30 the night before, so it took a little getting used to the noise and motion, but it was fun watching the Netherlands go by out the window. The troubled sleep made getting up a little tough, but I dragged myself to breakfast – again, really good.
Our daily shore excursion was early: we drove from the town of Dordrecht to the town of Kinderdijk, a UNESCO heritage site and home to 19 windmills. It was pouring rain most of the time, but we got to see how the windmills were once used to pump water out of the fields and into the Lek river, some 7 feet higher than the fields. We even got to go inside a windmill. It was fun and educational, but the ride home was pretty soggy.
Then: lunch (red pepper soup, a cubano sandwich, and chocolate mousse), a briefing about the ship & navigation by the captain, and some afternoon downtime while we pushed east on the Waal – one of the rivers the Rhine turns into once it heads west out of Germany.
We had a few hours to ourselves before the daily briefing (with a Champagne toast) and then dinner was served. All three of us had the chef’s recommendation: cream of pumpkin soup, pork tenderloin, and chocolate moelleux. My wine pairings were much better: a full-bodied Nahe white for the soup and a Beaujolais for the pork & dessert. Forced socializing: we sat with a couple from Tulsa, Oklahoma. Then the program director gave a talk about Dutch culture (ironically, just as we left the Netherlands and entered Germany), including a segment that might as well have been called “socialism” which seemed designed to make the American guests squirm. We loved it.
Mon Jul 7: Cologne
I woke up in time to see us passing through Dusseldorf; by the time I was showered and ready for breakfast we were approaching Köln, or Cologne. Forced socializing: I sat next to a couple from Montana, but who had lived in Edmonton when he played for the (then) Edmonton Eskimos. Also a lady from New York.
The low water level in the Rhine meant we docked downriver from Cologne, and took buses downtown. We met our walking guides under Hohenzollern Bridge, sheltered from a brutal downpour for about ten minutes, then crossed the bridge to the west side of Cologne.
We went first to the huge, historic, and stunning Cologne Cathedral. We didn’t have much time to look around inside, but it didn’t take long to be enchanted. The tour continued after, with our guide pointing out the old roman colony gate and a couple of local stores. By the end of his tour we noticed our boat wasn’t yet there, so most of us ended up eating at a local brauhaus called Peter’s. I drank a couple of Kolsch and ate some bratwurst mit hausgemachtem hartoffelsalat (homemade potato salad) while the brother had something called the “slaughter plate”. Mom was sensible and had a salad, though that too was huge.
We walked to a cute little store called BonBon, bought a few things, and walked back to the boat for some relaxation time. It was warm & dry enough now to be on the top deck for a bit before dinner. At dinner Diane, our new Brit friend, pointed out the full wine list we had access to, which was a game-changer. Food-wise I had spicy Asian grilled shrimp, German Tafelspitz, and carrot cake. Following that, we assembled for some classical music by a local duo (which was lovely), then retreated to the top deck. I was still up there when a bunch of drunk Americans came home and, after sharing how much they drank on their excursion, started chanting “U-S-A ! U-S-A !” so it was time for me to leave.
At the end of the week, when they gave us a survey asking what could make the cruise better, I wrote in “Fewer Americans.”
Tue Jul 8: Koblenz & Rudesheim
Probably the best day of the cruise. We got up a bit earlier and took a bus into Koblenz, where the Mosel joins the Rhine. The Mosel is, of course, of the other great wine rivers of Germany.
The Mosel River
Koblenz is also an old Roman colony and Prussian stronghold. When it was bombed in the final weeks of WWII, it was largely rebuilt in its previous form (unlike Cologne, which apart from the Cathedral is a Brutalist hellscape). Our guide was great and showed us around the old town, with all its quirky charm (e.g., a cuckoo clock that sticks its tongue out; a fountain/statue that spits at you every two minutes).
We had a cappuccino in one of the squares, then did some shopping. I bought a bottle of local Riesling from a great little wine shop. Mom and I split a cookie and we walked back to the Jesuitenplatz to meet our guide to be returned to the boat.
On the drive back to the boat the rain started again, but as we ate lunch inside (spicy Thai coconut soup, veal schnitzel, and mango sorbet for me) it cleared up. Perfect timing, as we were sailing through the middle Rhine, famous for its 20+ medieval castles. Everyone was on the top deck, soaking up the sun, admiring the dramatic scenery. They brought around boozy hot chocolate, followed by boozy coffee. We learned the Lorelei legend, and saw the statue. It was a stunning afternoon, what we’d all been waiting for.
We arrived in Rudesheim just before dinner. The brother and I speed-walked to a gondola in town, took it up (and right back down again) over the rolling vineyards, then hustled back to the boat for dinner.
Forced socialization: a couple from Wisconsin who were pleasant enough, even if the conversation included concealed-carry gun permits. I ate salad, lamb, and key lime pie. Between the early start, the sun, the hustling, and the now-robust wine list, I had nothing left in the tank, and rolled into bed.
Wed Jul 9: Rudesheim & Speyer
We left Rudesheim overnight, so I slept in a bit, climbed out of bed, and joined my family for breakfast. Forced socialization: a couple from Cambridge. Spent more of the morning topside, but we were back to industrial areas, so not as much to see.
I’ll admit that at this point it became harder to keep notes and remember what I ate for each meal, so…yeah. Not sure what it was. Forced socialization: a couple of very nice ladies from Michigan and California. Side note: for the entire cruise people kept asking if the brother and I were twins. I was, and remain, insulted by this.
We arrived in Speyer, walked into town and got a guided tour around the old town. Fun fact: this place is so bretzel-crazy that their walk lights are in the shape of a dude carrying a bretzel.
We saw the town’s enormous cathedral from the outside, but didn’t go in. We did see a very nice (and much newer) protestant church, though, after a walk through some cute neighbourhoods. Another fun fact: the Diet of Speyer is how the term “protestant” originated. The brother went to see the Technik Museum; Mom and did a bit of shopping, stopped for a coffee, and had some ice cream.
We walked back to the boat for dinner (beef, maybe?) and then the whole boat took part in a very enthusiastic music trivia night. Our team (the three of us, Ian & Diane, and a random couple who walked in at the last minute) finished second, and I still think we should have filed an official protest.
Thu Jul 10: Strasbourg
Another early morning, more forced socialization at breakfast (this time: some folks from Delaware, one of whom used to play piano at a restaurant in Halifax that my mom knew!), and another bus ride – this one into one of the better-known cities on the tour, Strasbourg. Our quirky guide led us into the old town, through old fortifications and across lovely canals, on a perfect cool morning.
We saw Place Gutenberg and walked over to the huge Cathedrale Notre-Dame to admire the architecture, stained glass, and astronomical clock. Mom, meanwhile, spared her now-sore lower body (wonky knee, wonky ankle, blisters) by doing the canal tour.
The guide then left us, so the brother and I sat for a coffee and a (very excellent) pastry at Cafe Dreher. The brother then looked up interesting things to do in a limited time in Strasbourg, which led us to both the Büchmesser (or belly-measuring column, which was either to determine if you needed to go on a diet, or to pay more tax…it’s unclear) and the Rue des Juifs, an excellent little set of shops.
I left the brother (not before we bumped into our mom, on a land side-quest) and returned to the boat for lunch. He stayed in Strasbourg and hiked to the top of the Cathedral, but I had to get back for my only paid excursion of the trip. At the boat we had a quiet lunch (I remember a pulled pork sandwich and warm pudding for dessert) and I got ready for my outing: a wine tasting.
I am very much an Alsatian wine fan, so this excursion to Domaine Albert Seltz was a must for me. Sadly, I found it a little disappointing. The drive was long – 1:15 each way – even if the last part was very pretty as we wound around the foothills of the Vosges. But the tasting experience was a bit lacking (a dark, working basement that looks nothing like the website…also, it was a gorgeous day out, so standing around a barrel or under a tree would have been good) and some of the wines were atypical to the point of being unrecognizable. They did make a Grand Cru Sylvaner, though, and that’s something I’m unlikely to ever see again, so I bought a bottle. I did get to meet the winery cat too, which helped.
Alsatian vineyards, with the mountains of the Black Forest in the backgroundThe Grand Cru “Zotzenberg” vineyard, with the Vosges mountains in the background
Anyway, the weather back on the boat was perfect. We had a drink on the top deck before heading downstairs for a German feast so voluminous I thought I’d pop. I understood the rest of the boat made that evening the big party night, but I’d partied a bit too hard the night before, so I could do little other than stumble down to my bed.
Fri Jul 11: Breisach
We were docked immediately alongside another boat, so no throwing the curtains open for us. But neither was there any morning activity, so we just rolled out of bed and ate breakfast. One more beautiful day, so once more to the top deck we went. After a while the brother and I walked into Breisach, not five minutes away, and sat for a cappuccino in the square.
We climbed the hill to see the cathedral up close. We weren’t able to ascend the tower as we’d hoped, but it was still a great view of the town and the Black Forest in the distance.
Back on the boat we had lunch (salad; fish + chips; black forest ice cream) and took off on an excursion to the Black Forest. Mom stayed behind and rested her injuries. We drove through Freiburg, which seems like a pretty cool city, and on to Breitnau. There we disembarked for our choice of activities; the brother and I chose a short hike into the woods, to a waterfall and back. It was a lovely little nature break, the kind that’s likely increasingly difficult to find in densely-populated Europe.
The drive back was much more scenic, winding across hilltops full of pastures and cows and traditional Black Forest houses, until we arrived back at the boat. We were the last bus to return as we were the last bus to leave, and we spotted two stragglers as we pulled out, then had to wait 15 minutes for them to get their act together and get on board.
Dinner back on the boat was tom kha gai soup, veal, and black forest cake. No forced socialization anymore: by this time we were mostly sitting with Ian and Diane, or with Anna and her mom Olivia from California, or some combination thereof.
Sat Jul 12: Basel & Amsterdam
Our earliest morning yet: we had to have our suitcases outside our door by 7, and ourselves out of the room by 8. We collected ourselves for one last breakfast, a final upper deck hang, and goodbye hugs.
The brother and I walked into town a bit and had coffee at bhoch3 where we were once again misidentified as twins. We also charmed a little boy sitting next to us, to the point where he tried to follow us when we left.
We saw a cool mechanical fountain made by Jean Tinguely, walked by the very red city hall, and back to the boat. We collected ourselves and our bags and were taxied to the Basel airport. We were there much too early, so I used some lounge passes to give us somewhere comfy to sit and get a bit to eat. Our flight to Amsterdam was short, and easy. After a long walk through the airport we found the Sheraton attached to the terminal and checked in.
Mom got room service; the brother and I walked down the hall to the Hilton, as their restaurant Bowery sounded more interesting. We had some excellent duck spring rolls, and my lamb curry was as delicious as his burger was huge. He went into town for a bit of an evening walk around, but I was just too gassed, and stayed in my room.
Sun Jul 13: Amsterdam & Toronto
Here, at long last, comes the end of our fellowship. After availing ourselves of the breakfast buffet in the hotel, I left first — my flight was two hours earlier. I sat in the (very sweaty – I really must remember this next time) lounge until my flight was called, and grudgingly let myself be transported back to reality. The flight was smooth and went quickly — watching three movies (A Complete Unknown, She Said, and Nobody) helped. Before I knew it we’d landed, and shortly after that the brother messaged to say he and our mom had landed safely in Halifax.
Looking back on it, the brother and I both enjoyed it more than we thought we might have. Plus, we both managed to stay completely detached from work, so it was a true break. But what matters most in the end is that our mom loved it. Success!
It’s been a week of slight nostalgia, restaurant-wise.
A few days ago Lindsay had to go to the U of T library, so I tagged along and we went to Bar Volo for dinner. Or, rather, we tried to — it was much too full when we arrived. We figured we’d eat somewhere else and come back, but quickly remembered that stretch of Yonge is populated by nothing but cheap noodle and bubble tea shops. Out of a tiny bit of desperation we ended up at 7 West for cocktails and a few snacks. Both places (well, the original Volo, anyway; I’d only been once since it relocated) used to be regular haunts for me when I loved around Yonge & Bloor.
We tried our luck at Volo again, and this time got stools at a barrel-top. We sampled beers off the menu (I forgot how much easier it is ordering by letter) and sharing a mortadella pizza.
Then, yesterday, we met our friend Kirsten for lunch at Chula Taberna on Gerrard. We’d been ordering from this place for years but had never gone in — who knew they had such a great back patio? Not this guy. Anyway, I smashed some chilaquiles.
Afterward we went to Home Depot and bought a temporary fridge. More on that in a future post.
In what has become an annual tradition, I met up with Dan B and Abtin at a steakhouse. As with last year I was late — I left plenty early but Toronto traffic took care of that.
This was my (and Dan’s) first visit to the newly-moved Jacobs & Co., and it was a beauty of a meal. Some horrible news the day before made the mood more subdued than it might have been, but if anything it was a needed balm.
Here’s what we had:
Cocktails
the classic cheese popovers
Martinis & sparkling
Appetizers
Jacobs Caesar salad
Crudo
glasses of Gavi
Mains
Pinnacle Farm “Little Joe” 12oz Ribeye from Queensland, Australia
Japanese X Wagyu 8oz California Cut Striploin from Hyogo Prefecture
Brussels sprouts
King Oyster mushrooms
a bottle of 2013 Sena from my cellar
Dessert
glasses of Madeira (because they were out of the Palo Cortado jerez)
Important footnote: they still have the takeaway chocolate muffins!
The space was pretty stunning too. Sure, the old place was good, but it was starting to feel just a bit dated, and the building looked like a bunker. Also: King Street West wasn’t exactly convenient. Now, a location right in the south core, with some outdoor space to boot, has me excited to go back.
Skirl | Dan Dickinson 