Photo by popturf.com, used under creative commons license

#TIFF13 preview

One of these years we need to do more than five films at TIFF. The past few years have seen us cap it there, mostly due to travel and other constraints. I had every intention of amping things up this year, but we’re attending a wedding which will occupy the entire first weekend. Obviously we’re excited about the wedding, but it does feel like the universe is setting our ceiling for the foreseeable future. So, five it is:

Just to recap: those are films about child suicide, a world on the brink of world war three, disease/zombieism, African gangsters, and a “blood-soaked orgy of outrageousness”. Sweet.

There are tons of galas and special presentations I really wanted to see, especially Devil’s Knot and Gravity, but I’ll be able to see those in theatres within a few months. I wouldn’t be surprised if we never get another chance to three or more of the films we selected. Which, frankly, is part of the fun of the festival.

.:.

Photo by popturf.com, used under creative commons license

Matthew’s Magical Mennonite sausage

After a delicious but cold excursion back in April, our friends Matt & Kaylea invited us back to their cottage last weekend. Things worked out much better this time, weather-wise. To wit:

That’s what greeted us as soon as we arrived. We shook off the ride up, drank a beer on the dock, and watched this happen.

After a fine feed of sausages (including the titular Mennonite sausage) and charcuterie and cheeses and baguette, as well as bottles of Le Clos Jordanne 2009 “Le Grand Clos” Chardonnay and Thirty Bench 2008 “Triangle” Riesling on the deck, we settled around a camp fire, Nellie’s one request for this trip.

The next morning we partook of some bacon and Fahrenheit coffee we’d brought with us. And spent a lot of time down here:

After a couple of swims, Matt started smoking a lamb shoulder using cherry wood, while we shared a few special bottles of Garrison Ol’ Fog Burner barleywine (and a bottle of Blanche des Honnelles). Later, as dinner approached (and following another swim) we drank bottles of Five Rows 2012 Pinot Gris and Hinterland 2012 Ancestral sparkling. All were excellent.

Finally, when the lamb was ready for us, we paired it with bottles of Tawse 2009 “Cherry Ave” Pinot Noir and Malivoire 2010 “Old Vines” Marechal Foch. We had to go for a walk after dinner so that I didn’t fall into a lamb coma.

We also put down bottles of Peninsula Ridge 2007 “Inox Reserve” Chardonnay, Kacaba 2009 Cabernet Sauvignon, and Malivoire 2012 Pinot Gris before the night was through. All tasty, naturally,

The next morning brought more bacon — peameal, this time — and more coffee, followed by one last swim. Then came the long drive back to…ugh, wherever. Not the cottage. Not here:

Alas.

For the monks

Clearly last weekend’s Garrison tour and last month’s Session Toronto festival didn’t provide us enough opportunities to try interesting beer, so — after an Ontario-craft-brew evening at the Rebel House with MLK — we walked over to the Steam Whistle Craft Beer Fest in Roundhouse Park. It promised to be a more laid-back festival, and the weather seemed far more tolerable than the sauna that was Session. The crowds weren’t big at all when we arrived, probably because the entry lines were very slow.

Once we got inside we could tell this was indeed a more laid-back festival.  There was room to move, there was shade (not enough, though, as it turned out), and plenty of people were sitting or lying on the grass. Some people even had their kids with them, and the kids seemed cool with it all.

We knew all fifteen breweries, and were familiar enough with most of their offerings that we skipped half. Here’s what I drank:

  • Grand River “Tabbey Abbey” ale
  • Great Lakes “Chill Winston” Grisette
  • Nickel Brook Berliner Weisse
  • Wellington “County Dark” Ale
  • Lake of Bays “River Walker” summer ale
  • Hogsback “Alohog” coconut pale ale
  • Leftfield “Maris*” pale ale
  • King Kellerbier

The Chill Winston and Alohog were fantastic light summer drinks, but the Maris* might have been my favourite on the day. I badly confused the Great Lakes employee when I insisted on ordering the “Chill Winston” in the same accent as Willie from Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels.

I also put down a killer pulled pork sandwich from one of the six food trucks in attendance, Hogtown Smoke. Nellie had pulled pork tacos from the DIrty South truck. We eventually had to escape the park when we realized that we’d been sunburned into oblivion — the cool lake breeze had lured us into a trap, it seemed. Not quite done tasting, though, we decided to walk up to Bar Hop for a few samples. I had:

  • Oast House Heritage Wheat
  • a Indie Alehouse / Kensington / Bar Hop collaboration Patersbier called “Who’s Your Daddy?”…and no, I didn’t know what a Patersbier was either until I read this
  • Shacklands Pale Ale
  • Dieu Du Ciel! Aphrodesiac

All in all it was a pretty beer-happy 24 hours…so much so that Untappd, not knowing I was drinking samples, awarded me the “Take It Easy!” badge. Success!

Relaxcation

A few weeks ago I realized I hadn’t taken a single vacation day yet this year. Sure, we’ve had quick weekend getaways, and I’ve travelled for work, but no days off. I’ve not been particularly burned out at work, but still – I knew I needed an escape from Toronto. Luckily, we had a trip to Nova Scotia planned to coincide with my brother’s visit.

SUNDAY

We had an eventful lead-up to the trip – a visit to Eigensinn Farm, a day out and dinner with our friends Matt & Kaylea and several of their friends, and especially Sonny’s death – so we were running around a bit in the days before. But we got away on the Sunday as planned, caffeinated ourselves at the Porter lounge, and soon found ourselves in Halifax. One incredibly efficient rental car pick-up later and we were on our way to the family farm, a beautiful day unfurling on the road ahead of us. We didn’t bother stopping for food; I’d already received a text from my brother telling us that our other brother was smoking a pork loin. Two, in fact. We arrived at the farm in no time at all, and the whole family – parents, brothers, sisters-in-law, nephew, nieces, and dogs – were there to greet us. Now we were home. Now we were on vacation.

The rest of the evening was mostly just a collection of eating and catching up, immediately launching into an onslaught of cribbage, and helping the brother gas a hornet’s nest. It wasn’t long before Nellie and I were asleep in the quiet and pitch black of the farm.

MONDAY

We had no agenda for this portion of the trip – for the whole trip, really – so we went along with the family’s plans. On this particular day the only concrete agenda item was lunch at Wild Caraway, a restaurant about an hour away in the little town of Advocate which has been garnering quite a reputation. We heaved ourselves into a few vehicles and made the twisty drive downshore, taking care to signal at every turn since no one else in Nova Scotia seems to.

Our lunch was very, very good…much better than I expected to find in Advocate, frankly. I had a pulled beef sandwich and a homemade ginger beer. Nellie had lobster bisque, a Caesar salad with scallops, and elderflower lemonade. Others at the table had crispy chicken sandwiches and pan-friend flounder, which was probably caught within sight of the restaurant. Some of us had chocolate cheesecake for dessert, others sticky toffee pudding. We ate well, is what I’m saying. Highly recommended if you find yourself anywhere near Advocate for lord-knows-what-reason.

We did a little more touring that day, stopping in Parrsboro on the drive home, visiting some blueberry fields and the West Brook, and driving up to the old barn on Thunder Hill. But it got pretty stinking hot outside, so I eventually retreated to the brother’s house (where they have air conditioning, mercifully) to rumpus with the dogs therein and play Call of Duty with my nephew. Not much else happened that day, as I recall: just the ferocious consumption of leftovers.

TUESDAY

Tuesday was my birthday, actually. I celebrated by going to my brother’s house and availing myself of some of the Fahrenheit coffee I’d brought him. Then began the preparations for the birthday feast: we drove to Amherst, bought heroic portions of meat (and meat accompaniments), ate lunch at a tragically mood-lit pub called Duncan’s, and drove home ahead of a rainstorm. Someone had arranged for some family photos to be taken, and things seemed to be heading in the direction of a very complicated shoot involving multiple locations, but the rainstorm hit just as the photographer drove into the yard and ended the minute she left. So it was kept to just a few pictures over a few minutes and I prefer to think that the rain was the universe giving me a birthday present.

Once the rain subsided the grilling began. Nellie and my brothers prepared for us a mighty feast: grilled steaks, grilled sausages, grilled chicken breasts, salads, potatoes, homemade bread, even that freaky neon green coleslaw that only seems to exist in the Maritimes. By the time I was finished all I wanted was to lie on the couch and finish watching The Hunt For Red October while my stomach made room for the Pierre Marcolini-chocolate-infused mega-cake my mother had baked. Alas, the nephew and nieces were not interested in my digestive timetable and we had to cut into it right away. It was damn fine cake, but I never did have more than that single piece, and under duress at that.

That night the sky cleared enough that we could see the stars, planes, and even the Milky Way whilst fighting off mosquitoes. So we called that a win, and I called it a pretty good birthday.

WEDNESDAY

I spent my final few hours on the farm driving around various back roads and blueberry fields with my dad and brother, and raiding the last of the maple inventory. Nellie spent hers sleeping in and going for a swim with the nieces.

We said our goodbyes and made our way to Truro (where Nellie’s mom had just moved herself), stopping in Five Islands for some fried clams (which helped us make friends with a hungry local kitty) and tiger ice cream, and stopping again in Economy for some of the That Dutchman’s excellent cheese.

We found the mother-in-law’s new place, picked up some steaks and tasty beers – the local NSLC had Erdinger, Garrison “Nit-Wit” wheat, and the excellent Picaroons Best Bitter – and then along with Nellie’s aunt and uncle baptised her new back yard with a barbecue.

THURSDAY

Luckily Nellie’s mother lives very close to Murphy’s, a Truro institution renowned for their fish and chips. We joined another aunt there, and sucked back some lightly battered seafood. I’m not much of a fish fan, but this was pretty good.

There was some hunting about town for a mythical man who sells fresh seafood out of the back of his pickup truck (seriously), but to no avail; we ended up buying dinner at Sobeys and a Superstore instead. We also made a quick trip to a nearby Future Shop where we picked up some  new toys for me to play with. I spent the afternoon setting those up while Nellie and her mom prepared a seafood banquet: lobsters, scallops, and four shrimp the size of boomerangs. These we ate with a few bottles of wine, including a very tasty Benjamin Bridge Tidal Bay white.

Frankly there wasn’t much else to do that evening except process the food. Recurring theme, that.

FRIDAY

Just before we left Truro we heeded a suggestion from the brother: Jimolly’s Café, also luckily just a few minutes from the mother-in-law’s new home. It seemed to be the epicentre of cool/hipster life in Truro. They did a decent, gigantic cappuccino and a gluten-free “gooey square” which fuelled the rest of my day. We filed the location away for an upcoming visit when we’re in need of caffeine and pastries.

We then drove to the Halifax airport, dropped our rental car, and caught a cab into the city. A word here on Halifax cabs: we stepped up to the first cab in the queue, but the driver was nowhere to be seen. We proceeded to the next cab in line, where the driver explained to us that the first cab’s owner was simply making use of the facilities. He got out of his own cab, walked up to the first cab, popped the trunk, and loaded our luggage into the dude’s cab while we tried to figure out what was happening. The owner of the first cab came running out, yelled “Thanks Lemuel!” to the second cabbie, and away we went. These two drivers did not work for the same company. They’re just good people. Halifax!

Anyway, in no time at all we were downtown, checked into our hotel, and on the prowl for some lunch. We found it at Hart & Thistle, a brewpub on the waterfront we’d visited once before. Unfortunately, as with the first time, we found the food to be a little lacking…by which I mean the chicken breast on my jerk sandwich was the size of a business card, and Nellie’s lobster poutine was like unto soup. But we were there for the beer, which was…also not great, unfortunately. Nellie’s white IPA was fine, I guess, but my Old 87 IPA was just a hop-bomb. 50 IBUs, if I remember right. I got through it, but it tasted like a test, not a beer.

Happily, our beer fortunes would soon turn. After our friend Amanda got off work she took us to Garrison, my favourite local craft brewery, to try some samples and meet the brewmaster Daniel. We drank some nut brown (my favourite), followed by some peanut butter and jelly sandwiches (nut brown mixed with raspberry wheat). Then we met Daniel, who poured us a few more interesting samples: the 3 Fields Harvest Ale, the Kellye’s Wild Rye’d-PA, the Black IPA, the Spruce Beer (which tasted like Christmas), and the Ol’ Fogburner barley wine, aged in whisky barrels from Glenora distillery in Cape Breton. I don’t remember much of what we drank next, but by then the short Halifax rain had broken and we retired to the sunny patio. Hunger soon overtook us, and we walked up the hill to the Loose Cannon, a rather rubbish pub where our server dumped a full pint of Garrison on Nellie’s lap and I continued to swap beer stories with Daniel. I might have developed a brewmaster-crush that day. Anyway, both Murphy girls joined us for one more drink down the hill at the Old Triangle before Nellie and I crashed.

SATURDAY

I’d been told Two If By Sea café was a must-hit in Halifax if you care about coffee, which I kind of do now, so I let Nellie sleep in and walked back down to the waterfront. There I purchased a very tasty cappuccino and two croissants the size of footballs. The capp barely survived the long slog back up the famous Halifax incline to the hotel; I needed the energy burst to climb past Argyle.

Once Nellie was up and full of half-a-croissant we got on the go, stumbling down the hill to the waterfront, along which we walked through hordes of buskers and tourists alike to the Seaport farmer’s market. It was jammed, not unlike St. Lawrence Market on a Saturday. Our attempts to procure a dessert for the following day were thwarted, so we went to plan B: back up the hill!

First, though: some lunch. Since we were headed in the direction of Spring Garden and South Park, we stopped in at Rockbottom, a new brewpub. We were barely into our first beer when the brother and two friends – also in Halifax for the weekend – walked in. I guess it was only a matter of time before that happened. We had lunch and beers (none of which impressed me at all) there and did a little shopping, most notably at Susie’s Shortbreads. We also stopped in at Premier Wine & Spirits to pick up a six-pack, and found that the store had maybe the greatest beer selection I’ve ever seen in such a small space. Along with the six-pack we bought bottles of Trou de Diable Shawinigan Handshake, Rogue Farms Good Chit Pilsner, and Brooklyn Sorachi Ace. I grabbed a shot of espresso from Steve-O-Reno’s, and then drank the Sorachi Ace back in the room. It were glorious.

The Murphy girls joined us for dinner at Bistro Le Coq, a new place we’d been hoping to try. Sitting in the dining room was like being back in Paris, and the food was excellent. I had the duck prosciutto and the poulet roti. Nellie had the escargot bourguignon and the scallops. The Murphy girls both had the steak frites with the duck fat fries. There was lots of excellent wine to go with all that, obviously. Two of the ladies had the fantastic crème brûlée, and one had a floating island a la neige – caramelized french meringue with a ribbon of lemon curd and crème anglaise. I revisited our France trip and had Sauternes followed by a coffee.

Phase two of the evening took us to Obladee wine bar, where we tried just about every white by the glass in the joint and some chocolate fudge. Phase 3 had us at Pizza Corner, scarfing down a slide of Sicilian pepperoni. It, too, were glorious. Except for the heartburn later.

SUNDAY

Our hotel – the Prince George – obviously has an English sensibility, but given the name of the new royal baby they’ve amped things up a bit. We wanted a place to meet the brother and his friends for lunch, so we picked Gio, the hotel’s restaurant. We had no idea just how English things would get. To wit: we were greeted by a beefeater. They were giving out hats and fascinators. A queen impersonator walked around greeting the more enthusiastic participants. Some people actually came in their own garish country-club attire. So that part was weird, but the food was pretty spot-on: fried bread with baked beans, lamb korma, smoked salmon, tiny fish & chips wrapped in newspaper, ploughman’s lunch, eggs benny, bacon, blood sausage, even Jaffa cakes. Not worth what we paid, but it was certainly memorable.

We hitched a ride back to the market with the brother, picked up a few treats and a cappuccino for me, and walked back to the hotel through the throngs of tourists. We hopped the ferry over to Dartmouth where a Murphy girl met us and took us to an old friend’s new back yard. We drank beer and played washers (for the first time) and met a baby and played with Venus the cat and ate sausages the size of billy clubs and played hot tub movie star trivia. Eventually we jumped the ferry back to Halifax, admiring the night skyline even as we buttressed our ears against the world’s loudest drunks. Visit #2 to Pizza Corner followed, but this time I learned from my betters and chased the slice with some chocolate milk. Bingo: zero heartburn.

MONDAY

On our last day in Halifax we managed to squeeze in one last visit with our old friend Stanzi and her husband over breakfast at Cora’s before walking back to the hotel, packing, and heading to the airport with the lone remaining member of my brother’s merry posse. Everything was going fine – we grabbed one last beer and even had a random visit with my aunt who happened to get diverted to Halifax on her way to PEI – until a storm delayed our plane’s arrival. Then another storm delayed our departure. Then the flight became excruciating when the world’s worst parents made themselves known and tortured us all the way to Toronto. But the hell with them – not even they could ruin a great vacation. There was too much family and rest and sun and food and drink and fun for that.

Until next time, Nova Scotia.

Eigensinn Farm

Friday night Nellie and I joined T-Bone and The Sof for a once-in-a-lifetime dining experience, two hours north of Toronto at Eigensinn Farm. Dinners there are a bit of a mystery — there’s no website to speak of apart from an out-of-date blog, and there’s no published menu. They do infrequent dinners for only twelve people at a time, featuring a prix fixe menu customized by chef Michael Stadtländer, but they’ve long since become a foodie pilgrimage. T-Bone and I tried to organize a trip years ago, but between the long waiting list, my experiment with vegetarianism, T-Bone’s experiment with children, and so on we’d just never managed it. But then The Sof pulled off a last-minute (read: three weeks in advance) reservation for the four of us to celebrate T-Bone’s birthday, and the long-standing plan became a reality. Clearly, we just needed an engineer to make it happen. And frankly, given the kind of week Nellie and I had, it was a welcome distraction to hypothesize about the menu and feverishly prepare wine pairings. So yesterday we piled into the limo The Sof had arranged and took off to Singhampton.

To be clear: Eigensinn Farm’s not an easy place to find. There’s no sign on the highway, just a rural address. But once we found it and drove past the enormous pile of wine bottles, parking in the midst of chickens and partridges and turkeys and a friendly dog, we could tell it would be a fairly magical experience. We were greeted by Stadtländer’s wife Nobuyo, our host for the evening. She showed us into their home, where we met the chef, marvelled at the kitchen, and took our seats inside a room so full of paintings and sculptures and homespun furnishings that it felt at once other-worldly and yet entirely familiar. There was even a big orange cat sprawled under our table.

Right, then: down to business. This was the menu, and each course pretty much deserves its own paragraph.

Amuse Geule: actually a collection of half a dozen things, not a lone amuse. There was an oyster from New Brunswick, a small salad with pig’s ear(!), cured beef heart, a piece of blackened cod, cured goose breast and pork coppa and some other kind of salumi, and some extremely tender ham on a piece of bread. We paired this with a bottle of Veuve Clicquot Ponsardin Brut 2004.

Herbed soup with oxtail ravioli and sweetbreads: this, for both Nellie and I, was the course of the night. First, the bowls (which looked hand-crafted) came with sprigs of fresh fennel and savory embedded and hovering over the soup, adding to the spectacular aroma. The soup itself was sublime, while the oxtail ravioli and sweetbreads added bursts of deep, earthy flavour through the middle. It was spectacular. And the New Zealand Gewurztraminer, an off-dry 2010 Kaimira from Nelson, paired well enough.

Lobster terrine: I’m not a lobster fan (though I’ve come to appreciate it a little in recent years), and am definitely not a terrine fan, but when it’s prepared this well it wasn’t an issue. It was also a chance for us to pull something special from our own wine collection, our only contribution to the lineup: a 2003 Tawse Bench Reserve Chardonnay. Nobuyo, who prepped and served the wines all evening, was impressed that we had one — or, rather, that we’d managed to keep it so long without drinking it. It had, in my opinion, the perfect mix of aged richness and Ontario earthiness. It might have actually been good enough to convince T-Bone that some Ontario wine is worthwhile. We even gave Nobuyo a little sip.

Yellow perch fried in butter with hazelnuts: subtle middle course before the main event, surrounded by fresh dill. We paired it with a Henri Bourgeois 2011 Les Baronnes Sancerre, which didn’t blow any of us away.

Blackcurrant sorbet: this palate cleanser showed up in the overturned bottoms of broken wine bottles. With this, we took a short break for a stroll outside around a bit of the farm, playing with the cat and dog, watching the rabbits, and enjoying the scenery.

Suckling pig composition: once we returned to the dining table we were presented with a plate full of pork several ways, the best of which was a “cheeseburger” croquette of pork and stilton. We paired all this with a 2007 Altesino Brunello, which was pretty good. Not stellar though.

Then came a series of three cheeses (which escape my memory), three desserts (an ice cream, a blueberry compote, and a raspberry compote), and petit fours, during all of which we drank a Château La Fleur Boüard 2008 Lalande De Pomerol. By that point we were done in. We thanked the Stadtländers, piled back into the car, and began the journey home. It’s unlikely we’ll ever be lucky enough to return, but I don’t feel like we left anything on the table.

Sonny

A little over ten years ago Nellie and I decided to get a cat. We visited the Toronto Humane Society, passed the interview process, and were told to pick out our new friend. But then something happened: we saw two brothers (half-brothers, actually) together, and just as the staff commented to us that we could take two brothers for a single adoption fee, the smaller of the two cats jumped up, stood on his back legs, and gently pawed at us through the window of their cage. It was one of the cutest things we’d ever seen, and we were sold. We couldn’t break them up (turns out this was Nellie’s plan all along) so we adopted them both. Lucky for his big brother, who was sulking in the corner of their cage, looking miserable.

The Humane Society gave us carrier boxes to bring our new friends home, but those boxes are designed for normal cats, not these guys who were 15+ pounds each. We put the big, cranky brother into one of the boxes and he looked like a muffin, his bulk and hair spilling over the top of the narrow box. “Is this,” his eyes seemed to ask, “really how we’re going to start this relationship?” Mercifully the staff let us take a large dog carrier which could accommodate their collective bulk. They were agitated on the drive home, and acted scared when we brought them into our tiny apartment. They had been given up twice already in their young lives (the smaller one was two, the larger was two and a half) and were understandably wary of any new humans. Maybe they didn’t want to get too comfortable, as they’d never lived anywhere for long up to that point. The little one soon warmed up to us, but the big guy mostly hid under tables and in dark corners.

We decided to name them Sonny and Michael, after the Corleone brothers in The Godfather. The older, larger, crankier one was Sonny since despite being sullen and moody he was bold and stubborn and already had a habit of bullying his younger brother, just like in the movie.

Santino_corleone_2

Their initial vet appointment revealed that Sonny had kennel cough, so we put him on antibiotics. Then, a few days after we adopted them I was working from home when suddenly this cranky, withdrawn, sullen cat was next to me, sitting up on his hind legs and begging like a dog for attention. Like this:

I scratched him and rubbed his belly for a good ten minutes before he went back to his nap. It turns out he wasn’t cranky, withdrawn, or sullen at all. He’d just been sick. His real personality soon emerged: he was playful, mischievous, stubborn, curious, constantly hungry, and had this bizarre habit of being hyper-affectionate for about ten minutes after waking up from a nap, and then a normal cat the rest of the time. It was almost like every time he went to sleep he expected to be given away again, and was always relieved when he woke up at home. I know, I know, I’m projecting and anthropomorphizing, but this cat was smarter than most. He could problem-solve — we had to start locking the bathroom door when he figured out how to work the pull handle, and earlier this year he figured out how to push his way through the screen door so he could explore the balcony that always fascinated him. So we constantly fell into the trap of expecting a human reaction from him.

Over time he became more and more affectionate with us. Even after we began sticking him with needles and pumping him full of IV fluids every night to treat the kidney problems he’d developed, he became increasingly affectionate, almost overwhelmingly so, especially after we returned from a long vacation. He’d climb between us in bed. He’d climb on our laps while we watched TV and massage our stomachs. He’d headbutt us and bite our noses.

The kidney problems got worse over the last few years, but to our vet’s surprise he never really showed any symptoms. Though we gave him more IV fluids and more medications his levels kept going up…still, he never showed it. He remained big and active and affectionate and about as playful as older cats get.

Suddenly, last Saturday, he became very ill. By Sunday he was worse. We tried one last Hail Mary of meds and painkillers, but it didn’t work. He was such a tough bastard — getting abandoned twice, beating kennel cough, and surviving longer with bad kidneys than anyone ever expected. But now his body was just shutting down. He was no longer the Sonny we’ve known for the last ten years. We owed it to him to give him an end with a little dignity, and with the vet’s counsel we decided to put him to sleep.

Before we took him to the vet for the last time we fed him enough catnip (the only treat he ever liked) to seed a lawn, and took him out on the balcony where he’d wanted to go his whole life. We lay down next to him and rubbed his belly as he gave us a few last I-love-you headbutts. And then we were at the vet and it was over.

I openly admit to having a stronger emotional attachment to animals than to most humans — apart from a short breakdown last year at the Anne Frank House in Amsterdam, the only reason I can remember ever crying is when a pet died — and believe me when I say I had several emotional reactions whilst writing this. But we know we made the best choice possible for him. He was a proud guy, at least as proud as you can be when you shit in a box in a closet. He was our friend and family, and this is the call I’d want my friends and family making for me when I’m no longer me, when I’m more sadness than strength. When I’m more pain than joy. So his thirteen years here are done. But they were a really goddamn good thirteen years.

We’ll miss you so much, buddy. We’re so glad your brother was a good salesman all those years ago. Rest in peace.

Photo by mlcastle, used under Creative Commons license

“Wanna fight?”

It turns out sweltering heat tends to drive up our movie-watching frequency, but also more or less limits it to what we can pull up on demand at home rather than going outside.

Hence, we watched Jack Reacher (imdb | rotten tomatoes) last weekend. I wasn’t looking forward to it, but for two hours it was reasonably entertaining and rarely annoying, which is better than I expected. So there you go.

Last night that sweltering heat finally broke as a short but ferocious storm moved through Toronto:

A similar deluge hit us a few minutes later. We ducked and covered down the street to Triple A for some grub, some beers, and a shot of bourbon. Once the rain broke we took the streetcar to Bar Hop for another pint — Ommegang BPA for Nellie, Indie Alehouse Broken Hispter for me. We left to find nearly everyone on King Street staring up at the weird cloud patterns and colourful sky left behind by the storm.

The evening’s plans weren’t centered around the storm, actually, but around a screening of Only God Forgives (imdb | rotten tomatoes), Nicolas Winding Refn’s followup to Drive. Anyone who had only seen that film and not the rest of Refn’s work probably left the Lightbox theatre somewhat confused. It was slow and quiet and textured and incredibly violent and overall pretty weird. Which is to say, like most of Refn’s movies — the ones I’ve seen, at least. Amos Barshad did a fantastic piece at Grantland yesterday about Refn and his latest film (beware: it’s a little spoiler-y) which they refer to as “An inversion of Valhalla Rising’s Scottish Highlands”. I thought that was accurate — like Mads Mikkelsen’s One Eye, Ryan Gosling’s Julian barely speaks in the film, and violence bursts through these long, droning sequences which were gray and earthy in Valhalla Rising, but raging neon here. The film certainly isn’t for anyone, and may not be for anyone expecting another Drive, but good for Refn for making his movie and not chasing what was likely a multitude of offers to make practically the same again.

Both Nellie and I have been doing work on this Saturday, but watched another dumb action movie before we got started: The Bourne Legacy (imdb | rotten tomatoes). Which was exactly what you think it’s going to be. So, fine, but boring.

.:.

Photo by mlcastle, used under Creative Commons license

 

Photo by Graeme & Sara Bunton & Peele, used under Creative Commons license

Here’s your future

A week ago tonight Toronto was hit by rains of historic proportions. We got pounded. We got soaked. We learned to convert metric to cubits.

The story of the storm and the aftermath has been well-covered in the usual places. Torontoist had lots of great pictures, including of the overnight extraction of passengers from a hot, stranded, snake-ridden GO train.

Nellie had a bit of an ordeal getting home, but for the most part we got off easy. I know people who lost their basement or lost their car, or both. Half the people in the GTA had brutal commutes home, often abandoning their cars after they ran out of gas.

For my part I was lucky, with maybe a little farmer’s son’s weather instincts thrown in there too. I was working away at my office when, around 4:40PM, I turned and looked out my window. It just looked…wrong outside. It was too dark, and the sky was an odd colour. My window faces south, so I couldn’t see the huge cloud coming south toward us from the north. Still, my gut was telling me this wasn’t going to be just another rain storm, and I didn’t have an umbrella — the weather forecast hadn’t called for anything other than sprinkles at noon. I brought up my favourite weather site, and it said there would be no rain for 20 minutes. 20 minutes is just enough time for me to get home, so I went for it. I put my computer to sleep, grabbed my bag, and took off. I wouldn’t normally do that. I’d normally wait it out, or borrow an umbrella from someone, or just be okay with getting wet. But this seemed different.

Once I got outside I was even more sure that it was going to be heavy-duty. Growing up on the farm we could always tell when it was going to rain, but yesterday I felt that sensation much stronger than I remember feeling it before. I looked north when crossing Yonge Street, giving me a clear look all the way to the top of the GTA. I saw the biggest, blackest cloud I’ve ever seen. It actually looked like the cloud-covered UFOs from Independence Day. I hurried up.

Luckily a subway train came quickly, and a few stops later I got off. This picture was taken from the 70th floor at Scotia Plaza, probably around the time I was getting off the subway. I got to our building, feeling only a few tiny drops as I entered the lobby. 30 seconds later, by the time I’d taken the elevator up to the condo and looked outside, I saw this:

So yeah…I was pretty lucky. I mean, in the grand scheme of things, what we experienced was minor compared to the flooding in Alberta or especially the train explosion in Lac-Megantic. But I’m still glad I didn’t get caught in it.

.:.

Photo by Graeme & Sara Bunton & Peel, used under Creative Commons license

Photo by Sheila Steele, used under Creative Commons license

“Jack. That’s the name I want.”

Somehow it’s taken us six years to see Boy A (imdb | rotten tomatoes) after not quite making our cut list at the 2007 TIFF. I really wish it hadn’t taken so long. Not simply because it’s an amazing — moving, troubling, beautiful, unsettling — film, but because it might have been even more jarring to see it before we knew who Andrew Garfield was.

.:.

Photo by Sheila Steele, used under Creative Commons license

 

Photo by Adam Fagen, used under Creative Commons license

I couldn’t decide whether to call this post “the risin’ of Weizen” or “the Porter new order”

A few weeks ago I was chatting with a former colleague, an ex-Torontonian who now lives in England. He knows I’m a beer fan, and mentioned that a few night before, at some bar not necessarily known for the their beer selection, he’d been able to try a Le Trou Du Diable Shawinigan Handshake. Over his week-long visit he’d noticed a much more extensive penetration of craft beer around Toronto than when he’d left four or five years ago.

I’d slowly started to recognize the same thing of late, but hearing my friend’s observations just cemented it. Places like Smokeless Joe, C’est What, and Rebel House had been carrying the torch for craft beer, especially Ontario craft beer for ages, but I’d noticed a shift in the clientele of such serious beer places, especially Volo. It wasn’t the same faces, the same beer geeks, every time. We’d see people trying new beers, searching out new releases, willing to be educated. Beerbistro was probably at the front of that tide, with places like Bar Hop, Wvrst, Bellwoods, and Indie Alehouse forming the second wave.

The size and makeup of the crowd at this year’s Session Toronto was a huge indication of how craft is quickly becoming the expectation. Another is the fact that Spotlight Toronto has run a ’30 days of Ontario beer’ feature the last few years, and Mike DiCaro’s series wrap-up post does a far better job of exploring and summarizing this shift  than I’ve managed here:

“Sure there was the rare brewery making weissbier and seasonals like an imperial stout, but the vast majority of what you encountered were pale ales with an amber ale or IPA being exotic. Even though it was only ten years earlier that time feels like eons ago. It has evolved into a completely new environment for craft beer lovers today. The bold, flavourful and hop-forward American-style IPA has become de rigueur and you can find a local craft example of just about every style imaginable […] .”

My favourite example of the shift might be Triple A, for all intents and purposes our new local. Make no mistake, it was the food that drew us here, and the food that’s kept us coming back. The beer selection for the first few months was basic; the most adventurous beer on tap was Mill Street Tankhouse. For the past several months, though, while the menu still contains the PBRs you’d expect in such a lo-fi place, they also carry Kensington FishEYE-PA, Flying Monkeys Stereo Vision, and Amsterdam Big Wheel — none of them exemplary beers, but a definite step-up from their original mass offerings, and a nod to the demand out there for decent, interesting, local beer.

I, for one, welcome our delicious new overlords.

.:.

Photo by Adam Fagen, used under Creative Commons license