Sunday, May 30, 2010

It Was My Birthday I Can Change My Mind If I Want To.

So last post I said I was going to review Ducky's Fish and Chip shop, and Kawaii Crepes. Well neither happened. What did happen is the heavens opened up and dumped enough rain that Noah would have felt at home.
Not conducive for a person like my self to be encouraged to leave the house. So instead my lovely husband went of a fish run. He went to Fergies Fish and Chips at a local market place/tourist trap, The Forks. He brought home a fmaily bucket of chips and Pickerel fish. My Dr told me the safest fish for a pregnant lady such as myself is local caught Pickerel fish, so as its also Regan's favorite we sat down to a feast of grease and fish and potatoes. The amount of fish was enormous. It would have easily fed another adult or two.
The amount of chip on the other hand, pretty sparse.
The fish itself I think suffered form the drive to our house. 90% of it was still crispy and delicious but 1% was already starting to get soggy. An odd aside, Regan was convinced that one of the small pieces we got was actually Halibut. It must have been left over from the previous batch in the fryer.

The french fries were perfect. The right level of salty and fresh cut. Over all I would give it a *** out of five stars. The price was right at $25.21 for a large portion for 3-4 adults, with plenty of fishy left overs, if you like your fish batter congealed the next day.
There was so much fish eaten by yours truly and the water being dumped on us from the sky that Kawaii Crepes didn't happen either. But I can say that after taking another perusal of their on-line menu, that will be changing very soon.

Saturday, May 29, 2010

Restaurant Review

For tonights Birthday Spectacular we three will be heading out for a Cross the Channel Meal. We will begin at Ducky's English Fish and Chips Shop which will then be followed (if stomach's allow) by crepes at Kawaii Crepe. Reviews will follow shortly if I am not in a calorie induced coma.

Friday, May 28, 2010

Friday Featured Recipe



This is one that I use often when I can't think of what else to make. Everyone in the house will eat it and you can add pretty much what ever strikes your culinary fancy. I often omit the sun dried tomatoes as I CAN"T STAND those suckers. Instead I throw in a couple of diced up tomatoes.
Other past additions include sautéed crimini mushrooms (yummy) canned asparagus (NOT yummy) extra Parmesan cheese (always yummy) corn (not yummy) diced then sautéed prosciutto (delicious) hot sauce (yummy but not toddler friendly) Asiago cheese (lets be real here I will eat any cheese with pretty much anything) are a few I have used int he past. As for the Cajun seasoning, Superstore sells it in a canister that has a grinder in the lid which I find provides even better flavour.

Creamy Cajun Chicken Pasta

Ingredients

Directions

  1. Place chicken and Cajun seasoning in a bowl and toss to coat.
  2. In a large skillet over medium heat, sauté chicken in butter or margarine until chicken is tender, about 5 to 7 minutes.
  3. Reduce heat add green onion, heavy cream, tomatoes, basil, salt, garlic powder, black pepper and heat through.
  4. Pour over hot linguine and toss with Parmesan cheese.

Wednesday, May 26, 2010

Are you Funking Kidding Me?? A post in which I get overly dramatic about a TV show.

Now I have never really gotten into the whole reality TV thing. That fad by and large just washed by me. Beyond a few episodes of The Amazing Race and maybe a few minutes of American Idol if nothing else was on I didn't tune in. I didn't understand the interest in it. Frankly my reality is dramatic enough I don't need to watch someone else's pseudo reality as entertainment.
That was before I was messing around on YouTube with Isla a few weeks ago and came across this and this and this. Then I began to watch, and watch and watch. I have totally developed a girl crush on Crystal Bowersox. She is the best I have seen on the random moments of the show I have tuned in for, and is phenomenal on YouTube. Regan can't stand to watch with me because I have to constantly flip over whenever they decide to make the contestants engage in some sort of abomination of a musical medley or some sort of demented advertisement. But even still between all the channel flipping, the hair gel of a certain Mr. Seacrest and the shouting of "Dawg", I still found a new musician to follow and cheer on. Thats why tonight when that other guy won (Lee Dewyze) I was floored.
A relative pointed out the main body of the voting audience is teenage girls so it figures that the dude with the soulful eyes and strategically messy hair would win over the mom with the dreads.

Tuesday, May 25, 2010

Socks + Music + Mispronounciation = Culture ?


So I haven't posted on here in a very, very long time. But I wanted a way to document this and figured to trust what all the security guys say and believe that anything posted on the net is here forever.

Everyday miracles guys. Every freaking day miracles, thats what kids give you. That may make me sound like one of those kitty cat shirt wearing, Chicken Soup For The What Ever Soul reading woman, but its true. Today Isla said “Coltrane”. Now I know that wouldn't mean much to those out side of this house but here, where John Coltrane is the go to guy for background music its a big deal. She also sang along to her first REM tune. Ok, ok it was off a reality TV show and the guy singing it needed Isla to find the melody, but still my jaw dropped.

Kids this age are so intrinsically musical. Its in every cell of their being. We spend at least 10-15 minutes a night now dancing to something. Tonight it was to Coltrane and me doing the 'Manamana' song.

This all connects to what I have been thinking about a lot lately. What is our specific families culture? What defines our family as being different from another? I listened to a CBC radio program months ago, before Isla was talking, about how the misspoken words of children often become a marker in a families culture.

I hadn't ever really thought about each family having its own distinct culture and yet now I think we are making one day by day. Its in the Coltrane that plays in the evenings, the Lady GaGa (referred to in our house by Isla's name for her, Ba Ba Gace) that plays on the way to and from daycare every day in attempt to sooth the savage toddler beast. It's in the way we listen to Lou Reed on repeat during road trips and read Where the Wild Things Are, On The Day You Were Born, and Mama Mama until everyone in the house can recite them. I now call Macaroni and Cheese, “Cacamoni and Cheese” and strawberry flavored milk as “Bunny Juice”. Both of which are now served faithfully as every Saturday's lunch.

Although they maybe mundane details everyone of them seems to be creating this incredibly beautiful, detailed, multi-layered picture that I had no idea we were making. I guess instead of calling it an everyday miracle it should be called an incidental miracle. Because through all the mundane; pay the mortgage, pick up dog crap, throw the garbage out, trying to find at least one flipping pair of matching socks, no you can not eat that and don't put it in the dogs ear, the three of us have created something breath taking. Complicated as anything can be, as hard as hell, and as draining as a person can imagine or stand but still oh so precious.

Three years ago when I peed on a stick, saw two lines and then almost passed out on the john (and yes again I am shocked I am putting that into the technological ether) at the time I was focusing on how totally unprepared I felt to begin raising another human being. I questioned what right I had in creating and then developing another person when heck, “I cant even manage to make my bed or put my dirty clothes in the hamper.” what sort of credentials did I have for child rearing? But what I failed to see was that I wasn't creating a person like a plant. She wasn't going to be some sort of automaton who I had to mold into this perfect image. What we were and are creating is so much more beautiful, simple and possibly more terrifying, we are creating a family for Isla to grow up in.

Every single morning from the moment we put our feet on the floor in the morning Regan and I are creating family. Every morning when Regan makes Isla and himself toast and jam from the jam we made last year he is creating our culture and ultimately our family. Every morning when I run around begging the sock gods to find me just one blasted matching pair and finally settle on Isla going to day care with one florescent pink one and one stripy rainbow one and I wear a old mismatch pair of Regan's, I am creating culture. OK, its a culture of stocking feet chaos, but one to be proud of none the less.