Even with that extra leap day in February the month flew by.
The month started off with dinner in a high school. Not really a place that makes one think of exciting culinary events, but Longfields Davidson Heights Secondary School has something special going on.
I was lucky enough to be invited to the sixth annual Food for Thought where students in LDHSS’ culinary program are teamed up with professional chefs to cook and serve a six course meal to over 100 guests. The whole thing was for a good cause and was a great success.
Leading up to the big dinner I spent a day Continue reading
My lunch break yesterday was a departure from my regular sandwich or salad. Instead, I sampled pitsi and maktaaq and tuttuminiq quaq.
…Intrigued? Then you might want to check out A Taste of the Arctic! (That’s dried Arctic char, beluga skin, and raw caribou, if you were wondering.)
As I munched on (more than a few) pieces of candied Arctic char, I watched as meat was expertly sliced with sharp ulus, traditional Inuit made blades, and learned more about Inuit culinary customs (apparently the eye of the fish is a treat that people fight over!).
Bannock, the quintessential bread, was the only food on offer that was familiar to me, but I was pleasantly surprised by all the new things I tried. One of the ulu-yielding women drew similarities between the raw fish and meat we were eating and Asian sushi, something that doesn’t seem so unfamiliar. Raw, smoked, dried, candied, or frozen, it was neat to see fish and meat prepared in so many ways on one table. (The most traditional way being “pulled straight out of the water and served” I was told — talk about catch of the day.)
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I was glad we arrived before the sunset. With a crooked arrow pointing us to the winding back road to Deadlock Bay, we joked that this was how horror movies started (not that I would really know, since I’m too much of a wimp to watch them).
A good friend of mine and I sometimes joke about worrying that we peaked in high school. We were just big fish in a little pond, but I sometimes feel that I lost some of the confidence I had after I left that teenage-comfort zone. It might be that I’m overthinking things, or it might just be a part of growing up—maybe a bit of both.
While I often found my undergrad challenging, I find myself occasionally missing the structure that came with the “occupation” of being a student and the kind of certainty it offered; I knew what I was doing with my life for a solid chunk of time (that good ole’ BSc), at least most of the time. And even if I didn’t know what lay ahead after graduation, I had another year or two to think about it, another semester or two, another week or two…
Since graduating, I’ve doubted myself a lot in a way that doesn’t feel like “me”. I’ve given in to mini-cry sessions that creep up on me without warning, and indulged in little pity parties for seemingly no reason. Motivation has been a little low, Netflix usage has gone up. I have learned how to cross stitch. Continue reading
Realizing that I would want a splash of milk in my first coffee of 2016, Tristan and I just dashed to the grocery store (crazy busy, of course). We came back home, hastily popped a bottle of bubbly before T had to head to work, toasted, and now I’m sipping alone until friends come over. Just me, vintage Beyoncé, and a glass of sparkling. It’s a nice pause as 2015 fades out.
Though it’s certainly too late for your celebrations at this point, I wrote a little thang for Ottawa Magazine — some top Ottawa sommeliers and sommelières have some recommendations for next time you’re picking up a bottle of bubbly or if you’re wondering what wine trends might be coming up in the new year. Continue reading
One night when I was around 11 years old, I heard a steady knocking coming from our basement as I got ready for bed. I don’t know what spooky things I was expecting to find, but I do remember holding my breath as I tip toed down the stairs.
It was just my dad hammering some DIY-wine bottle racks together; nothing frightening (although, I guess Dad with a hammer could be a bit of a scary sight). Thus my first exposure to wine appreciation was at home—kid-Katie thought white wine was pretty tasty, but red was revolting. Am happy to report that my taste buds have evolved.
Without the back-to-school rush in September, there was less of a definite seasonal shift in my head. A little less excitement, less novelty, less homework, less sense of impending doom. A freeing feeling for the most part, but occasionally one that I let stress me out when thoughts of future plans (or lack thereof) get the best of me.
Of course, classes or not, the learning never ends. Working Continue reading