Category Archives: Food

Various Views on Vegas

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Fly High Free Bird

The soul-crushing airline industry has completely ruined my idea of what is normal and what is not. To me, flight departure and arrival times are completely nebulous, an approximation at best. I just assume that no flight will ever take off or arrive on time, ever, which is why I will do almost anything to avoid flight connections. So you can imagine my surprise when not only did our flight to Vegas was on time, but so was our flight home. We arrived home at 4:00 pm, which meant that I could pick Rex up from the boarder’s, rather than waiting until the next day. “Our flight got in early!” I excitedly said to the woman at the boarder’s, and my husband reminded me that no, it wasn’t, but it was on time. I guess I just assumed 4:00 could mean anything from 5:00 to midnight.

We had booked these flights before I became incredibly spoiled by our recent, premium seat flight to Mexico, but we did have the exit row, which is quite comfortable for me and my swollen, badly circulated, here-are-the-warning-signs-for-blood clots legs. On the way there I was seated beside a lovely Australian woman who had been rerouted to Vegas in the strangest way: she was heading for Calgary, where she would connect to go on to Houston, but as she was driving to the airport she was notified that her Calgary flight was delayed for over ninety minutes, and she would miss her connection. Back in the day there were many flights from Calgary to Houston, but apparently not anymore, and so she was flying to Vegas, of all redirections, and then getting an evening flight on a different airline to Houston. It sounded exhausting and reinforced my deep distrust of airline connections.

On discovering that the woman was from Australia, the fellow in the window seat struck up a conversation, and continued the conversation for the entire three hour flight. I was in the happy position of being in the aisle seat, so I could eavesdrop easily but I could also just read my book. The conversation almost entirely consisted of his recounting of The Times He Got Drunk In Australia, along with one horrifying description of the Time He Tried To Barbeque Kangaroo Meat.

I had a brief conversation with this young gentleman when he arrived to his seat, and that conversation was about the Superiority Of The Airport White Spot as a Drinking Destination. “Their liquor license starts at 6:00 am, and there’s no difference in the price of a beer at the airport versus the White Spot on Harvey,” he said, “And no one has to drive because we are all getting on a plane!” He has a point. The flight attendant came by with the drinks cart and when he asked for a beer, she told him there was Molsen and Coors available. “The Silver Bullet!” he said happily. It was just after 9:00 am. I lost sight of him after deplaning but I feel sure he had a great time in Vegas.

My Milkshake Brings The Instagrammers To The Yard

For the second year in a row, St. Patrick’s Day completely fell off my radar and I didn’t realize until just before we left that we would be in Vegas for that occasion. I assumed that all of the pubs would be very busy, but either there is just a glut of pubs or people were partaking in the festivities elsewhere, because every pub we passed seemed pretty quiet. People were definitely partaking in festivities somewhere, as dramatically demonstrated by the fellow in a tall green hat and a shirt emblazoned with “Pat MeCrotch” falling into the elevator with us, followed by his apologetic wife, who was wearing a gigantic glowing green necklace made up of shamrocks and the words “Kiss Me I’m Irish.”

In any case, my husband and I had a lovely lunch at a pub at the Venetian, which is near the Sphere. We had tickets for the 2:00 show, and so we leisurely sat at the bar and had some really great pub food, including a vegan falafel burger. This was the type of pub that had a whole page of the menu dedicated to extremely decadent and extravagant milkshakes: the rims were coated with frostings and sprinkles of all sorts – Fruity Pebbles! Jimmies! Oreo crumbs! – and then topped with ice cream or whipped cream, with some kind of large baked good on top of THAT – a strawberry Pop Tart! A jelly doughnut! A cinnamon roll! – and then THAT was topped with, somewhat anticlimactically, a cherry.

I saw one such milkshake being delivered to a woman, around my age, sitting alone. It was bright red, with a slice of what appeared to be cheesecake on top, and I was filled with curiosity as to how someone would actually consume this. Would there be a side plate? Would this person just pick up the cheesecake and eat it with her fingers? I watched out of the corner of my eye to see what would happen.

First, the woman took several photos of it, which, well, is relatable. Then she started taking selfies with the milkshake, including one in which she was holding the cherry with a big, wide, open mouthed smile. I waited to see what would happen with the cheesecake slice, but then it was apparent that she was videoing herself with this milkshake – I could see her talking. Was this an Instagram reel? Was she posting on TikTok? I kept waiting for her to eat the cheesecake, or at least sip from the milkshake, but she just kept filming.

My husband chided me for creepily watching someone not-consume a giant milkshake, but to be honest, I didn’t think it was any creepier than watching an Instagram reel of a person I don’t know, the creation of which was more than likely what was happening. All I was missing was her handle. I never did see what happened with the milkshake because she still hadn’t partaken in any of it by the time we left to go see the show. I hope she enjoyed it.

Mars Ain’t The Kind Of Place To Raise Your Kids

As I alluded to before, we went to see Postcard From Earth at The Sphere in Vegas. The Sphere, in case you don’t know, cost two billion dollars to build and the outside consists of thousands and thousands of lights. It is really a feat of technology and engineering, the inside filled with all sorts of technological wonders. During the movie, the seats move and vibrate – no, not THAT kind of vibrate – and there is wind and scent and it’s a real sensory experience. I cannot even describe how amazing it is.

I loved 85% of the movie, which is about the glory of nature and our mother earth, the ways in which we honour her and the beauty of nature. It also shows how we have abused her, and how she is protesting via climate change and crisis, and I was on board with all of this, one hundred percent. We are in a climate crisis, I think that much is obvious, and it is our doing, as a global population. This, I think, would have been a great place to give the viewer practical information about the changes we all can make on individual and corporate levels.

However, this is where the movie took a turn. The solution to the climate crisis, said the movie, was for everyone to leave earth in order for it to heal. So, everyone on earth got to get into a space ship and go to another planet, presumably to fuck that one up as well, although that thought was left unstated.

Now, I know, as the man behind me said to his sobbing child who did not want to go to space, Daddy, it’s just a movie. But really? THAT is the thesis regarding the solution to the climate crisis? For us not to be here? Honestly, the film should have a warning on it for anyone suffering depression or extreme climate anxiety, because the thesis is that the world would be better WITHOUT US IN IT. Surely there could have been a better conclusion than that, but since space travel for seven billion people is exactly not a practical tool, the implication is that it’s just better if we don’t exist anymore. You can’t find a hotel room with a balcony or a window that opens in Vegas, so you’d think they would know that your existence is the problem isn’t maybe the best theme for a movie in that particular location.

Obviously there are no clear answers or quick fixes to the climate crisis, but maybe there could have been a lesson here about mindful, reduced consumption rather than let’s go to Saturn, it will be fine. Perhaps stop using single use plastics, or don’t buy into the fast fashion industry, or, maybe, don’t go to Vegas.

Las Vegas is probably right up there with the Disney resorts when it comes to environmentally disastrous tourist destinations, and I found it incredibly ironic that this movie would be shown in a two billion dollar, electronically powered, round theatre. It felt like getting a lecture from Leonardo DiCaprio about the environment just before he boards his yacht with all his buddies. So thanks, but no thanks, on the suggestion of flying to space and never coming back to earth ever again.

Glory Days, They’ll Pass You By

If you can believe it, I have been a mother for twenty years! Well, twenty years and two days.

It was a bit of a hectic weekend, what with cake baking and guests and a funeral and feeding people and just general life, but it was lovely all the same. And now we are looking down the barrel of a really normal week, albeit one in which we are busy gearing up for gardening season. Preparing to garden in March will never not be a novelty to me, after so many years of snow and ice.

I have many books to tell you about, but it will have to wait until later. I hope you all have a beautiful week, the first full one of spring! xo

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The Viva Las Vegas Edition

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One of my very Favourite Things about air travel is the insane cultural whiplash you can experience in only a few hours. It’s pretty incredible, when you think about it. One moment one is involved in their sleepy little life, and the next moment one is on the Vegas strip, being bombarded with sights and sounds and lights and people. And then? Back to the sleepy little life.

We had an absolute blast in Las Vegas; we got back on Monday and things have been smoothly puttering along since then. We have houseguests arriving today, but not for a happy reason: our friends from Ottawa, who we will be visiting next month, are here for his father’s funeral. What this means is that we have our anniversary, two birthdays, and a funeral, all on the same day. Well, we celebrated our anniversary in Vegas, really, and my son is spending his Saturday night 20th birthday NOT with his parents, and I have always vowed that Rex’s special day shall be October 10, the day he came to us, and NOT on his actual birthday. I only have so much bandwidth, people.

But Vegas! As I mentioned before I am a non-gambler, and yet this is my fourth time in Vegas. There are many things to do in Vegas for people like me, but of course, gambling IS the main event there. I find it fascinating and wild to walk through the casinos; it’s exciting, seeing people at the craps tables, and also depressing, seeing people glassily hitting the spin button on the video terminals at 7:00 in the morning. One thing that was very surprising to me is that all of the casinos allow smoking. It’s been so long since I experienced cigarette smoke indoors that I found it kind of shocking. There was a lot of pot smoke too, and while I dislike cigarette smoke I absolutely loathe the smell of pot. It makes me feel actually nauseous, but happily the casinos do have great ventilation systems and unless a person is right beside someone smoking, it’s not noticeable, to me anyway. Another thing I noticed was that there were many fewer cocktail waitresses bringing free drinks to the gamblers, with the exception of the people at the card tables. Vegas in general is insanely expensive, much more so than the last time we were there, in 2015.

Speaking of that last trip, prior to it I had stayed healthy and virus-free for months leading up to it, which is remarkable considering I had elementary-school-aged kids at that time, and the morning of our trip I woke up with a head cold. Back then I doped myself up with cold medication and that, with the addition of a lot of alcohol, led to me having a prolonged and dramatic nosebleed in the middle of one of those super-expensive shops at Caesar’s Palace. I had to make a run down the fake-marble floors to the washroom, where people averted their eyes at what they assumed was a cocaine-addled hot mess. It wasn’t my best moment, and so I wasn’t super excited to wake up last Tuesday with a sore throat and general malaise. Not wanting history to repeat itself, I kicked it into High Gear, Tender Loving Personal Care-wise, and did almost nothing but sleep and eat for the days leading up to our flight and I am happy to report that I was mostly recovered, energetic, and, crucially, public nosebleed-free for the trip.

Was that too much information? Perhaps. Anyway! I have much to say so I will start with all of my Favourite Things.

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The Viva Las Vegas Edition

This Flower Loves Flowers

We stayed at the Bellagio, and arrived around noon on Friday, and it was absolute mayhem. There were so many people everywhere, and I noticed this amazing indoor garden, but the number of people there made it impossible to move through it. Happily the crowds are almost non-existent in the morning hours, and so I was able to walk through and admire it all.

The garden was a tea party theme, and all the flowers were spring ones. I am delighted to tell you that two of my girlfriends were there recently, and the themes change with the seasons; my friend Megan (HI MEGAN) was there when it was Lunar New Year-themed, and my friend Karin (HI KARIN) was there at Christmas to see the Nutcracker theme. I love thinking that this is someone’s JOB, to create a new garden regularly, and in the morning I watched the grounds crew replanting and watering, and it just seemed to me to be the loveliest occupation possible. Am I excited to get started on my own gardens? YES I AM.

Food, Miraculous Food

Right next to the garden was a delightful breakfast and lunch place called Sadelle’s, a gorgeous place that had the most incredible avocado toast. We went there every morning for breakfast and every morning I ordered this:

For our anniversary dinner we went to another restaurant in the Bellagio called Harvest, and let me tell you, it was absolutely incredible. They had a full, separate vegan menu that was so divine that my husband ordered off of it. We had other great meals too, including a falafel pita at this crazy little hole-in-the-wall place that was to die for.

This drink was called You Broke My Heart, Fredo, so of course I had to order it. Times two. It was delicious albeit expensive, although probably pretty average for Vegas prices. I mean, don’t apply the exchange rate or think too hard about it, is the moral of the story.

Show Me The Way

We went to see Cirque de Soleil’s KA, which was absolutely incredible. In 2015 we went to see O, which I think is actually a better show, but our seats for this were perfect and the performers were acrobatically swinging right above us at times. The breathtaking strength of the performers has to be seen to be believed.

We also went to the Sphere, which is a pretty amazing work of technology and engineering. The show we saw there was Postcard From Earth, about which I have much to say, but for brevity’s sake will tell you that it is an incredible experience and is absolutely stunning.

Not So Still Waters

The Bellagio has a famous water and, if you see it at night, light show that happens…well, I don’t know how often it happens. It seems like it happens every half hour, but it could be more frequent than that. There is music playing, often some old school Elvis or Frank Sinatra, which I am HERE for, although my husband and I had a great conversation on what life would have been like for those two specific performers prior to the days of the 24-hour news cycle, social media, or, you know, feminism. Pardon me while I separate the art from the artists here, because I do love that music, even if the performers themselves were pretty suspect.

I also loved the water show both during the day and at night:

It’s a gorgeous hotel and I’m so glad we stayed there.

A Miracle of Chocolate Engineering

Speaking of fountains, the Bellagio also is the proud home of the World’s Largest Chocolate Fountain, which impressed me to no end and which my husband probably does not want to hear about ever again. But you guys! It’s the World’s! Largest! Chocolate! Fountain!

You might be wondering if I partook in any of the chocolatey delights, and sadly, the answer is no. There was a glorious patisserie and gelato assortment, but all of it was very dairy-heavy. Whomp whomp.

That’s It! You People Have Stood In My Way Long Enough! I’m going to Clown College!

Remember the episode of The Simpsons when Homer goes to Clown College, and then he admires himself whilst wearing the requisite pants? Homer incessantly talks about how comfortable the pants are, while Krusty yells that the pants are supposed to be baggy. Baggy!

This is how I felt in my new plane pants.

I know, I know, I JUST talked about skinny jeans and the horror that are wide-leg pants, but we should all know that I cannot be trusted when it comes to advertising. To be completely honest, I really wanted a pair of pants to wear on the plane that would be cute, stylish, and, most of all, comfortable. As some of you may know, I have some pretty serious circulation issues that require the wearing of full-length – up to my bra line, people – medical grade compression hose for any flight over about an hour. My hose are “nude” and I only need to put on a patterned housedress with white open-toed sandals to display the reinforced toe to become my own grandmother. Anyway, a fun little side effect of my myriad circulatory issues is that my legs also actually swell up on planes, even with the compression hose, which makes any non-yoga pants to be very tight and uncomfortable.

So I was on the search for new travel pants and Lululemon had these on clearance; it’s a risk, buying pants online, but I have what is known as a “Sweat Membership” at Lulu, and one of the many perks is that I can return clearance items. Full-length, they look like frumpy palazzo pants from 1996, but I cuffed them and added boots and a close-fitting top, and I think it worked!

By the way, “kale salad” on that sign was only an advertising gimmick. There was no kale salad.

Outfit of the Month

Speaking of boots, having the right footwear is so important in Vegas.

Those heels are normally very comfortable, but after 20,000 steps and a day of walking and a couple of You Broke My Heart, Fredos, wearing them made me feel like Lotus from The Good Earth. Except with giant swollen feet. So not at all like Lotus, but I was walking like Lotus with tiny, painful steps, and I ended up carrying my shoes and classily walking in my stocking feet after dinner, through the casino, and back up to our room. Huge shout-out to Sheertex stockings, because they are still intact after all that abuse.

What I am saying is my little Sorel boots are the unsung heroes of this trip. So comfortable, so grippy, so cute, they held up for miles and miles of walking, and I did not have sore feet for even a minute with them on.

I bought this Lululemon rain coat when I moved to Kelowna: it’s unlined, which is a completely impractical item while living in Calgary, because when it rains, it’s freezing and probably raining sideways. But in Kelowna it can rain and still be warm, so this coat is perfect. It was also perfect for Vegas, because look at this forecast:

It was actually warmer in Kelowna than in Vegas, which wasn’t actually as bad as that sounds; I find cooler weather to be better for walking around and exploring. The Sorel boots are also unlined and waterproof, which was perfect because, as Vicki, our world-weary Uber driver originally from Oregon said, Vegas has no drainage and can flood with less than an inch of rain. It’s true, there were giant puddles of standing water everywhere. The sun came out when we were leaving, and our other Uber driver, Vernon said that he hadn’t seen a nice day like this in months. Months! The day we were leaving! Ah, well, one cannot control the weather. Vernon, in case you’re wondering, was originally from Miami but has lived in Las Vegas for twenty-eight years, and the only thing he misses about Florida is access to his eleven grandchildren. When I said wow, eleven grandchildren, how nice, he talked for a while about how his two sons make choices, and he does NOT have an opinion on those choices, but one of his daughters-in-law practices a religion that will not allow her to get her tubes tied, and he doesn’t know why and he doesn’t WANT to know why, it’s not his business, but yes, ma’am, he misses his grandchildren. It was a ride. A literal ride!

People are SO interesting, and I have a lot of people-watching to tell you about – we were inadvertently there during St Patrick’s Day, and there were thematic green clothing items and shamrock headbands as far as the eye could see – but it will have to wait until later. In the meantime, if you’d like to tell me your Vegas Vacation Stories, or any story about your favourite things this month, I would love to hear them. xo

Gardeners and Flowers

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Before she was part of the Real Housewives franchise, Carole Radziwill wrote a really excellent memoir entitled What Remains, which I have read many times. There is a part in the book where she and her husband’s cousin, who is none other than JFK Jr (spoiler alert, everyone dies around her), have a discussion about marriage. They have a theory that in a successful marriage there is one Gardener and one Flower; it’s possible a marriage could work with two Gardeners, but never with two Flowers.

I have thought about this theory approximately one million times since first reading this book in 2006.

I am, of course, a literal Gardener; it’s almost actual gardening season around here, and we have SO much to do, to plan, to plant. But I have always believed that, in the Carole Radziwill and JFK Jr context, I am also a figurative Gardener. I am a nurturing, mother-hen type of person who likes to make sure loved ones are special and cared for. That said, my husband is not really a Flower, so I have always thought that we are one of those double-Gardener marriages.

Except sometimes, I think I am a Flower, or, at least, I’m turning into one.

The area in which my Flower-ness becomes most apparent is in travel, or more specifically, travel planning. I love to travel, I love to see new things and have new experiences. I love it all! What I don’t love, however, is dealing with the logistical details. I am capable of dealing with logistical details – I can and have in the past booked flights and hotels and activities – but I find it boring and tedious.

Someone who does not find it boring and tedious, and, in fact, who shines at travel planning is my husband. The man can spend hours researching places to go, things to see and do, and, importantly, how to physically get there. He loves doing it and so over the course of our marriage I have just stepped back to the point where I have ceded all control.

I am completely a Flower. We are now at the point where I only barely know not only our travel itineraries, but I also barely know where we are going. If anything, this attitude of just being along for the ride increases my enjoyment of travel exponentially. I’m like Rex going for a car ride; I’m just excited to be going somewhere, it doesn’t hardly matter where.

Now that my husband is retired and the kids are grown, we have so much flexibility for travel, and to that end we have a few big trips booked for this year, plus some smaller ones, and one of those is coming up this weekend. My husband and I are going to Las Vegas.

I am a complete non-gambler – I do not enjoy it in any way – but Las Vegas is just so much fun; this will be my fourth time going and I am very excited. Needless to say, I did none of the bookings and had nothing to say about the actual itinerary, other than to enthusiastically say “That sounds fun!” every time my husband brought up an idea. My husband has booked us a few shows, and other than that, I don’t know what we will be doing. It doesn’t matter! I’m just excited to go!

So clearly, I am a Flower.

One of my earliest memories is one of complete and utter emotional devastation upon learning that flowers die in the winter. To be fair, I was an incredibly sensitive and dramatic child and I probably experienced utter emotional devastation daily, if not more bi-hourly. However, I have a very clear memory of devastation about the fate of flora during the winter, winter being a very long season in Calgary. How or why this occurred to me, I don’t know, but I would guess that there was a book about seasons involved; I clearly remember my level of hysteria that my dad tried to quell by telling me that the flowers come back again in the spring. This was small comfort indeed, because of a Very Big Idea that Very Small Nicole had, and that is that when I grew up, I wanted to be a flower.

I was probably three, and so I had no concept of symbolism or anything else, and I obviously had only the most tenuous ideas about what constituted growing up. I genuinely thought it was an interspecies free-for-all, and that becoming an adult meant that you could literally morph into any kind of animal, vegetable, or mineral.

So you can imagine my devastation when I realized just how brief my life on this mortal coil would be after achieving adulthood. I guess I believed that my life would follow this rough trajectory: I would be a child, I would go to school, I would be grown up, I would immediately change from human to flower form, and then I would die. I would die in the winter, thus missing Christmas and a visit from Santa.

I don’t know at what point I realized that my anxiety about an instantaneous winter death was unfounded, but eventually I went on with my little human life, enjoying flowers for what they were and not as a mirror of my future self.

Weekly Reading

An Elderly Lady Is Up To No Good. This was an absolutely delightful little book of connected short stories about a murderous little old lady. It is very clever and quite hilarious. It is translated from the Swedish, so there are many wonderful Swedish tidbits in here, and one made me genuinely squeal out loud, thanks to Were You Raised By Wolves. Do you listen to that podcast? If not, why not? Do you hate joy? The podcast is a beam of light in this dark world. Anyway, there is a little line in this book about Christmas Eve, and one of the characters mentions that the “children will have watched Donald Duck.” I knew EXACTLY what they were referring to, thanks to Were You Raised By Wolves, and if you don’t know, look up their Kalle Anka episode. Obviously it involves Donald Duck, but it is so much more. It is PURE delight, and so is this book. 

Dual Citizens. In the past six months, I have been made aware of a conversation in the writing and publishing community about the role of prologues in novels, and the current thinking seems to be just DON’T. I didn’t really think about it too much prior to these past six months, but now I really notice when there is a prologue, and what, if any, value is added. And I will say that the prologue – and epilogue, for that matter – in this book not only does not add to the book, but they actively subtract from it, in my view. Particularly since there seems to be a strange discrepancy; in the prologue the character is going into labour at 38 weeks, but later in the book she is said to be “overdue.” So that actively took me out of what is otherwise a really wonderful story, with incredible writing and prose, about two sisters and their narcissistic, neglectful mother. There are some interesting character arcs and a message about understanding others as we gain life experience. Some of the imagery is a little heavy-handed and slightly unbelievable – sleeping with wolves, really? – but this is a really excellent character-driven novel. I guess we can excuse the prologue.

Is anyone else totally exhausted from the time change? I SURE AM. Other than “Lose A Precious Hour Of Sleep” day, it was a lovely weekend. We attended a surprise birthday party for my friend Joy (HI JOY) and, unrelated to that, I made another cake from Julie’s You Are Human And You Need Cake book, and I took Rex for a nice long Sunday morning hike. It was an attempt to change my attitude when I can’t change the circumstances, the circumstances being the ridiculous ritual of shifting the clocks hither and thither semi-annually for absolutely no reason. ANYWAY. This Flower is heading for bright lights and (relatively) late nights, and will see you on the other side. Take care, my beautiful flower friends. xo

Five For Friday: The Ask Me Anything Edition

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Thank you to everyone who submitted questions for my Ask Me Anything! Today I have quite a variety to answer; I love how different these all are.

  • From Bijoux (HI BIJOUX): As I like to travel, what would be your Canadian not-to-be-missed sights? I considered putting off answering this question until May, when I will be back from a trip to Ontario and Quebec; I am sure there will be many not-to-be-missed sights that I will discover. Then I thought that no matter what I see on that trip, my number one answer will not change, and that is the Canadian Rockies in general, and Banff in particular. I think there is no place on earth quite as beautiful and as special. The town of Banff is very expensive and touristy, it’s true, but that is because it is so beautiful and special. The Canadian Rockies are an absolute feast for the eyes in every way; the colours, the mountains, the trees.
Prairie Mountain, Kananaskis
Lake Louise
Lake Agnes
Me and Lake Louise
Hiking in Kananaskis
One foot in Alberta, one foot in BC, which seemed to be the theme of 2023
Simpson Pass
Galatea Lake
The iconic Banff Springs – worth the splurge, I swear
View from the Banff Springs
  • From Kate (HI KATE): Do you plan to teach yoga in your new town? Do you ever go to a studio class, or only practice on your own? I don’t currently have plans to teach; we have a lot of travel planned this year, and so I did not want to commit to any classes, only to have to find substitutes. I would be willing to teach one-off or event-style classes, but I don’t want a firm commitment. I also get extremely attached to my students and I miss my Calgary ones so much; I’m not quite ready for that again. As to the second part of the question, the short answer is no, I don’t go to studio classes. For thirteen years I did practice at a studio; I practiced Mysore-style Ashtanga, which is very individual and student-led; there is a set sequence of postures that each student practices at their own pace, with a teacher available to assist and also to teach the next posture in the series. My friend Lucas (HI LUCAS) made a video of this practice at our studio back in 2012, and if you watch the video, I am in the bright pink pants. At about the 2:20 mark, you can see the wild backbends I used to be able to do. Anyway, I was so grateful to have this kind of daily practice established because when the pandemic hit, I continued with it, just at home, and without a teacher. One or two days a week I take a restorative or yin practice, again, at home. I did take one led class last year, as my friend Sara (HI SARA) was giving a special class at an art studio; I enjoy this kind of thing once in a while, but generally I prefer a practice which is more of a moving meditation than a led class.
From 2015
Practicing in what is now my kitchen, before it was my kitchen
A fancy studio shot, 2019
Another studio shot, 2019
Current yoga setup
  • From Steph (HI STEPH): Do you think you will eventually work again or are you and and your husband both retired for good? This question also answers Coco‘s question (HI COCO) who asked what does your husband do? Steph’s is a very interesting question, because I always think of “work” as the days when I worked in an office, on a trade floor, which I quit in 2004 after having my first baby. Of course, I have had various little jobs, including teaching yoga, since then, but I guess I don’t think of them as work that one retires from, exactly. So the answer to that question is never say never! I have a few ideas and projects, but whether or not they will result in any monetary compensation remains to be seen. I can confidently say my husband is definitely retired; he is enjoying the retirement life immensely. Currently, he is in his workshop building me cedar garden beds, so I can also say we are both benefitting from his retirement.
Work in progress
  • From Elisabeth (HI ELISABETH): What is your least favourite food item in the world? No contest: celery. I loathe celery. Everything about it is disgusting to me: the smell, the taste, the weird stringy texture. I clearly remember a kid bringing ants on a log for shared preschool snack, and the absolute horror it inspired in me. I love peanut butter. I love raisins. WHY MUST WE PUT THOSE DELICIOUS THINGS ON A PIECE OF THE DEVIL’S GREENERY? Close second to least favourite food: onions. I don’t mind onion flavour, so a dehydrated onion flake or onion powder is fine. But the texture of onions, particularly raw onions, gives me a full-body shudder. Not as bad as celery, and if there was a gun to my head I’d probably eat one, but that gun would have to be loaded. Obviously I don’t eat meat or seafood ever, and I don’t like to eat eggs either, although if an egg is in a baked good that you presented to me – especially if that baked good was a cake – I would eat it.
My husband made me this for Christmas!
  • From Engie (HI ENGIE): Do you think aliens exist? I am an Alien Agnostic: I just don’t know. I don’t see any reason why they couldn’t exist. The universe is big, and no one has the answers, so why not? As an alien aside, I have always had a terrible fear of E.T. I was seven when E.T. came out, and all of my little gal pals both loved the movie and loved E.T. as a concept; they were all getting E.T. stuffies and shirts and backpacks, and the horror, the horror. He’s so cute they’d say, while I would try not to cry. Look at him hiding in the stuffed animals, they would say, while I would panic, thinking about my own stuffed animals and what I would do if there was an alien among them. I have never once seen the movie the whole way through; I always have to stop it before curling up in the fetal position in a corner. I have a real visceral reaction to the whole thing. Many years ago my husband gently tried to get me to face my fears, saying in a calming voice “It’s really a nice movie, E.T. just wants to go home to his family!” and at that I started crying uncontrollably, and he probably wondered if he should return the ring, or just go ahead and face life together with a grown woman with E.T. trauma.
My Cheer Bear, without an E.T. I believe in the power of the Care Bear stare!

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The Leap Year Edition

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Happy Leap Year, everyone!

Our last Leap Year was in 2020, and thinking about it now, how strange that time was, having an extra day just ahead of being locked down and going through a global pandemic. When I look at my blog from February 2020, it is all very cheerful and clearly I had no idea what was about to occur. I also, it seems, did not mark the leap day in any way at all.

Well, I shall not make that mistake this year! I have had a really lovely month filled with good things, so why not extend it a day?

Nicole’s Favourite Things: The Leap Year Edition

The E is for Environment

One of my favourite podcasts, Alison Rosen Is Your New Best Friend, has a new segment called Podcast Pals Product Picks, and as you can imagine, I am here for this kind of content. One of the guests talked about E Cloths, which to my mind means ELECTRONIC cloths, but the E in this case stands for Environment. Anyway, they are special microfibre cloths that use only water for cleaning, and by the time the podcast guest finished talking about the streak-free shines on all of his glass and stainless surfaces, I was scrambling to order them. Here, take my money. We have a lot of windows in this house, not to mention mirrors and my shiny lacquered Yamaha piano, and I am never able to get them really clean. I will THINK they are clean, and then the sunlight will come in a certain way, and I will feel the kind of despair that accompanies what one thinks is a job well done, but was actually wasted time and effort.

NO MORE!

Listen, I do not know what magic is involved here, but all I can say is that they really work. Apparently these cloths are somehow antibacterial and antimicrobial and require no extra cleaning supplies, but that is a bridge too far for me. I may use hippie cleaning products, but I still want to use cleaning products. I’m happy to shine my glass and stainless appliances with just water and E Cloths, but I’m not relying on them to, you know, wipe up food-related messes or clean the bathroom.

The Big Ass’k

I have been on a lifelong quest to be less dissatisfied with my hair, and I honestly don’t think I will ever actually love my hair. I have issues, is what I’m saying, for many reasons which I will not go into here so as to not bore and depress us all. Nora Ephron once said that not worrying about your hair anymore is the secret upside to being dead, and when I read that, I finally felt very seen in a way I never had before.

My lifelong quest means that I am always on the lookout for new hair products. I bought this Cake volumizing product on a whim, and also because it was called The Big Ass’k, and honestly, I feel that the name called to me. My anaconda don’t want none unless…

Anyway. I like this product a lot, it’s really great for non-shampoo days to add volume, and it smells fantastic.

Look at that shiny clean mirror!

Actual Cake

I think I bought Julie van Rosendaal’s cake cookbook back in January 2023, with the eventual resolution to make every recipe in the book. My younger son sternly reminded me of this resolution a couple of weeks ago, chastising me for falling down on my goals. To that end, I tried a recipe that I have been wanting to try since obtaining the book: the Jos Louis cake. I have never had a Jos Louis in my life, and neither had anyone in my family, so we could not compare this to the original. Mine was not as pretty as Julie’s, but wow, was it a delicious cake. It might be the best cake I’ve tried from that cookbook to date.

Now, I want to note that this is not a simple recipe. There are many steps and it takes a while to get assembled. Also, I have no idea how one would cover the cake in ganache without it spilling all over the sides of the platter, but no matter. As they say in Beauty and the Beast, true beauty is found within.

Let My Lust Open The Door

I have a new favourite podcast called Bad On Paper; the two lovely young hosts are authors who talk about their writing processes, as well as about books and life in general. This checks every box for me! For Valentine’s Day they had an episode about – wait for it – obscure erotica. One of the hosts talked about a book concerning a pansexual Abraham Lincoln who – again, wait for it – has a penis fight with the Emperor of Japan to see who will – wait for it – colonize the moon. I could not be less interested in such a storyline BUT the other author brought up a book called Unhinged: An Erotic Door Romance.

The host said, “If you’re wondering ‘Is this a book about a woman who fucks her door?’ well, you’d be right!” and at that moment, I knew I had to read it. After all, let’s never forget I read the Governor General Award-winning book Bear about a woman entering into a sexual relationship with a bear – and not, as my son asked, a big hairy gay guy, an actual bear. Upshot of that, for those of you who don’t remember, bears give great oral but are maybe not so good with intercourse. Or, as I like to say now, intercoursing. Anyhoo, back to the door. This little piece of door-related erotica was well worth the $1.30 on Kindle plus the 45 minutes it took to read. I mean, not to spoil anything, but this is no ordinary door. It was made from wood from a tree that – wait for it – Zeus, Greek god, fucked. You read that right! Zeus Harvey Weinsteined an oak tree and bam, we have a sentient – and, apparently sexy – door. More spoilers! The door can sometimes take on a human form! Sexiness ensues!

But wait, there’s more!

The host of the podcast mentioned that Squeak, erotica having to do with balloon animals, was her second choice in books, and, hilariously high off of the image of a doorknob wearing a condom, I bought it on Kindle for another $1.30. Sadly, this one was disappointing. I mean, it wasn’t really entertaining to read, it was just mostly confusing. There’s a three-way? And two of them are partially balloon animals? But they maybe also turned the woman into a balloon animal by having sex with her? But I’m not sure? In a different kind of universe? I really don’t know, but it only took me about 25 minutes to read so it wasn’t a huge investment or anything. Funny thing to note: the author is clearly using a pseudonym, but there is a real photo of her and a description that she lives with her husband, seven cats, and two dogs in North Carolina and you know what, I like this level of author detail. I also appreciate her level of creativity because doors and balloon animals are not items that I have ever thought of in a sexual way before, but now I’m looking at my doors for a little too long. They seem to be getting uncomfortable.

Girl, Put Your Snowshoes On

Let me tell you, the best thing about having a retired, active husband – other than afternoon delight wherein I pretend he is a door – is the willingness to do fun things any day of the week, and the best thing about having my specific retired, active husband is that he likes to buy accessories for us to do such things. In the fall he bought us snowshoes, which I frankly thought would be a waste of money. After all, we had just bought cross-country skis. This is probably why the snowfall has been so low this year, I’m sorry, everyone. Anyway, after kind of a hectic month of not doing anything winter sport related, we decided to give the snowshoes a whirl last week, and let me tell you, I am obsessed.

It’s hiking in the mountains, but with snow!

If it wasn’t a 45 minute drive to get to snow, I would snowshoe every single day, this is how much I love it.

Outfit of the Month

I had a real Ladies Who Lunch experience with my girlfriends a few weeks ago; we went for a nice lunch downtown and then poked around in various expensive boutiques in the area. When we walked into one store called, appropriately enough, The Little Boutique, I had no intention on purchasing anything. I was just along for the ride; the clothes all seemed pretty expensive and nothing seemed to call out to me. That is, of course, until I saw a soft, drapey black sweater on the sale rack.

One might argue that I needed another drapey black sweater like I needed another leg, but I felt the material and it was so incredibly soft. It was also originally priced at $509.

I mean, who would pay that? Not me, but it was marked down to $119, which is still a lot for a sweater I did not need. But then it was 25% off of that price, and you know what, I am not made of stone. $85 for a sweater that was originally $509? Who could say no to that? NOT ME.

Something has been happening to my body lately that is just out of my control. I am in great shape, I am strong and flexible and healthy, and I am also losing my waistline. It is just…disappearing. Where is it going? I don’t know. I am developing the menopausal woman’s waistline, which is to say no waistline at all. My torso is turning into a rectangle; this is a fact, and it’s one that I have come to accept, and so having a long, drapey sweater that skims that rectangle? Yes. I’ll take it.

I debuted The Expensive Sweater at my Galentine’s party, paired with my old faithful Lululemon City Sleek pants, which have been on the Favourite Things many times already; they are actual pants that feel like yoga pants. What could be better? Other than getting an expensive sweater for 16% of the original price, of course.

I hope you all had a wonderful February full of lovely things – if you’d like to tell me about them, I’m all ears. xo

It’s Puzzling

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Happy Almost-Galentines Day to all my gals! And, I guess, a Happy Honorary Almost-Galentines Day to any guys who may be reading this. Are there any guys reading this? I have no idea, honestly.

It is tradition for me to bake heart-shaped items at this time of year; I will make cookies later in the week. I bake so much; along with cooking dinner, I feel like I spend a lot of time in the kitchen every day. I once tried to track my time for a week and before the first morning was over, I was so depressed I abandoned the whole thing. So much time in the kitchen.

I have been contemplating the idea of hobbies this week, thanks to an episode of my friend Stephany’s podcast, The Friendship Paradox (HI STEPHANY). The episode, talking about a variety of hobbies, had me down a semantic wormhole: if a hobby is something pleasurable to do in one’s free time, then is my whole life a hobby? If everything I do is a hobby, then is nothing a hobby?

I don’t consider baking a hobby, although I do enjoy it. Yoga and exercise might be considered hobbies, but to me they are daily life-affirming activities that are vital to my mental and emotional health, as well as to keep my physical body from crumbling and immobilizing. Are my daily walks a hobby? I do not consider them to be optional for myself or, more importantly, for Rex.

I just had A Moment, thinking of what life would be like if Rex DIDN’T get his 6 km of walking a day, lord have mercy.

Reading and writing, similarly, do not feel optional to me but I’m not making any money on either of them, so I suppose they would be considered hobbies as well.

One thing that absolutely is a hobby, and something I only do in the winter, is putting together a jigsaw puzzle. This is something my husband and I do together, except that he is very bossy and often takes over completely, which suits me if it’s a hard puzzle. I tend to like the puzzles that have a lot of little vignettes on them, which are easier to put together. We are working on one now that my older son gave me for Christmas, and friends, it is incredibly difficult.

My son knows I like easier puzzles but he also knows my deep love for QEII, so he gifted this to me. I told my husband to back off, in terms of her face and dress, and so he’s been working the boring rest of it. I did allow him to put together the scepter though.

But you guys, it is so hard! The purple cape is all slightly different shades of dark purple, and what makes it even harder is this:

Puzzle-loving friends will notice that all the pieces are the same general shape. It turns out that I look for shape a lot more than I look for colour; for a while I thought I’d have to get my husband to put the cape together, but I persisted, and finally finished it yesterday.

Weekly Reading

I have SO MUCH to say about the books I finished this week. Hold onto your reading hats!

Paperback Crush: The Totally Radical History of ’80s and ’90s Teen Fiction. Did you ever wonder if you were a Jessica or an Elizabeth? Or, god forbid, an Enid? Did you think that you would drive your blond, size-6, All-American self to school in your red Fiat Spider and date the star of the basketball team while editing the school newspaper? Did you think you’d sneak around on your boyfriend’s motorcycle, get into an accident, and switch personalities with your identical twin sister? If so, then 25% of this book is for you! In 1985 I asked for – and still have – a Sweet Valley High box set for Christmas and boy, did I love those books. I wish this whole book was a SVH recap but alas, it is not. It reads like a really long blog post, which is to say it’s a casual and easy read.

I don’t mind a blog post-like read for a topic like this; and speaking of such, I would like to take this opportunity to link to a series of Judy Blume recaps – Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret, and Deenie – I wrote when I had a blog with my dear friends Hannah and Allison (HI HANNAH HI ALLISON), lo these nine years ago. Judy Blume is featured in Paperback Crush, but not a whole lot, since most of her books were written in the 70s.

Also featured in this book: the VC Andrews series. Who among us didn’t read Flowers In The Attic, horrifying ourselves with incredible tales of abuse and incest and poisoned doughnuts? What a ride those books were. I think I was probably about 11 when I read those books which, whoa. Imagine that happening these days.

Getting back to Paperback Crush: I enjoyed about half of it. I liked the nostalgia of those paperback romances geared towards tweens, written in the early 80s. I used to troll the racks at the library for them, and I remember a friend wasn’t allowed to read them because they weren’t “good books.” I thought then and I still think now that any books that kids will read are good books, and why specifically does society have a need to make girls and women feel shitty for liking things they like? Oh right, patriarchy. Anyway, as I said I only liked about half of this book because the other half was a deep dive into books I was too old to read, like the Babysitters Club and Goosebumps, basically anything written after 1987. Despite the very casual writing style – again, no shade, just facts – I enjoyed the nostalgia of this and recognized MANY covers (remember the Cheerleader series?). I am actually considering digging out my Sweet Valley collection and reading about Jessica’s tryst with a college age boy (THERE’S BEER AT THE PARTY).

Strange Sally Diamond. Within the first paragraph, I assumed that Sally Diamond was a woman with autism: she pretends she is deaf so as to not speak to people, she has no friends and lives in isolation with her father, she has trouble finding nuance and reading social cues, she pulls her hair and screams when she is upset. She is excellent when it comes to following directions, which is how she obtains sudden notoriety: her father had always jokingly said that when he died, he should just be put out with the trash, and that is exactly what Sally does. The resulting media storm brings to light her upsetting early life, and we as the reader discover that her antisocial personality was in fact the result of a horrific trauma in her early years, in addition to a lifetime of being somewhat of a psychological experiment at the hands of her father. This absolutely horrifying, sickening trauma is the subject of a secondary point of view, and we see dual lives and timelines.

As an aside, this made me think of Gabor Mate and his book about neurodivergence and traumatic or otherwise adverse childhood experiences. It brings up an interesting and unsettling idea regarding causation of neurodivergent-appearing behaviours, and I don’t know how I feel about that. If we follow the idea that early childhood experiences can imprint for a lifetime, well, that can both explain things and also put a heavy weight on parental responsibilities. Anyway. LET’S MOVE ON.

Two things can be true at the same time: first, I could not read this book fast enough. It has been a long time since I was this invested in a plot, even given the extremely disturbing subject matter. The second thing is that I found the writing style to be very clunky and lacking in nuance and subtlety, particularly the dialogue, particularly in the secondary point of view. This book really suffers from a “tell” instead of a “show” which I don’t like. However, as I said to my friend Nicole (HI NICOLE), if the book was better written, I would have had insane nightmares due to the terrifying backstory. As it was, well, it was just a book – I never forgot it was a story, I never got completely immersed – and so I slept just fine. The plot really moved, and it was a compelling read, despite the writing.

I noticed this beaver dam in progress on my walk the other day – I guess some other creatures are busy with their non-hobbies too. I hope you all have a lovely, heart-filled week of love and light and chocolate! xo

Dinner Every Damn Day

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I have mentioned at length how much I cook; until we went to Mexico, I had cooked dinner every single night from October through January. We rarely eat out, and although everyone in the house CAN cook, and when it comes to other meals they DO cook, but I am the only one who makes dinners. There are reasons for this, I’m sure, but I can’t think of what those reasons are right now.

It’s not the cooking per se that is exhausting, it’s the planning and the ingredient list-making and the grocery shopping, am I right? I am a person who makes a meal plan for the week and then sticks to that meal plan; I have done this for many, many years as the thought of deciding what to make for dinner at five o’clock fills me with dread and anxiety. I’m just not a Go With The Flow, What Do We Feel Like Eating sort of person. I need A Plan.

I have talked about my Weekly Meal Plan before, but it’s changed a little since we have moved. For one thing, I have had a bit more time during the day, and I don’t have to think about how to incorporate things into school lunches. I’ve gotten a bit more experimental in general, although I think I could get a little more lively. Birchy (HI BIRCHY) had mentioned that she has a goal of ten new recipes for 2024, and while I don’t have that exact goal, I am trying to add new things to my arsenal of tried-and-true regulars. I will take any and all suggestions you may have!

I’m not unique, I don’t think. It feels like collectively we are all constantly fatigued when it comes to meal planning and the actual creation of those meals. I thought I’d share with you what I made for dinner last week, and approximately how long it took to make those meals. I don’t include cleanup time – one or two of the guys always clean up after dinner, but I am also a clean-as-you-go person who cannot abide having piles of bowls and pans while I cook, so I do wash dishes frequently throughout the day. I also wanted to distinguish between active cooking time and passive cooking time; I don’t really count the latter because I can read or do something else while vegetables are roasting. Also, I don’t know what your tastes are – personally, I roast vegetables until they are charred and crispy, but I stir-fry them just so that they are only slightly cooked. I’m an enigma when it comes to vegetables, what can I say, but the point is, we all like things done in different ways, so this is just a general peek into my methodology. At the same time, it is a source of irritation for me when a recipe says that it takes only twenty minutes, but those twenty minutes don’t include vegetable chopping, sauce making, or other vital processes to the meal. I guess I could have left the preparation time out altogether and saved us all this long and boring explanation.

For those of you who are new (HI NEW FRIENDS!) I eat plant-based – vegan mostly, with some small amounts of dairy – and the guys eat meat. I don’t make separate meals and I never have; instead, I make a plant-based meal and then sometimes cook meat to be served on the side. Sometimes the meal is completely plant-based, and on one day – Sunday – I make a meal that is meat-based, and I eat only the side dishes. Sundays are also Dessert Days; I think they deserve a special sweet treat.

Monday

We arrived home from Mexico last Sunday night, to a clean house and an empty refrigerator, which called for a big grocery trip. Wednesday is usually Grocery Day around here, stemming from a habit I created back when I taught classes every morning but Wednesday, but obviously I had to make an exception this week, unless we wanted to eat nothing but peanut butter for two days. Grocery Day is a great day to make a variation of Suzanne’s Fall Salad (HI SUZANNE), which I have made many times, somehow differently each time. This time I roasted chickpeas and sweet potatoes, added crispy quinoa, candied pecans, dried blueberries, and chevre crumbles, with a maple dijon dressing. While the quinoa was cooking, I peeled and chopped the sweet potatoes, tossed them and the chickpeas in olive oil and sprinkled them with salt and pepper, which took about 15 minutes. It took another 5 minutes to make the dressing and another 5 to spread out the quinoa on a baking sheet to crisp in the oven; candied pecans take about 15 minutes, and then it takes another 5 to put it all together. That’s 45 minutes JUST for the salad, not including roasting time and also the hours that I leave the rinsed and drained chickpeas on a tea towel to dry out before roasting them; this is an easy trick to get nice crunchy chickpeas. In other words, this is a good meal to make if you have some time and are home for a few hours, otherwise, maybe not. I also put some chicken thighs in the air fryer for the guys and sliced up a baguette, both of which took maybe 5 minutes total. Total active time: let’s call it 50 minutes. Add in roasting time for the chickpeas, quinoa, and sweet potatoes, which is another 50-60 minutes total.

Tuesday

Tuesday night is typically stir-fry night, mostly because I always like to use up all the veggies before Grocery Day. Even though I’d already bought groceries, I still felt like having a stir-fry; I made a teriyaki sauce based on a recipe from Vegan Richa‘s Everyday Vegan cookbook, and served it with basmati rice and pan-fried tofu, adding cashews on top. The veggies took about 15 minutes to chop, the rice takes a few minutes to rinse before cooking, and the sauce itself requires cooking to thicken and takes close to 25 minutes to make. The veggies and tofu do need active hands, and they take about 15 minutes, which I do while the rice cooks. Total active time: 55-60 minutes. Again, a good meal to make if you have a bit of time.

Wednesday

Pasta night! The thing I love about pasta night is the sauce, and to maximize my sauce consumption I roast a cauliflower to eat along with the pasta. This was an easy meal because I had sauce in the freezer from a batch I had made a few weeks back. I also had some meatballs in the freezer for the guys, which I just bake in the oven. It takes about 10 minutes for me to chop up a cauliflower, and probably about 5 minutes total to toss the pieces in olive oil, sprinkle with salt and pepper, and put it in the oven alongside the meatballs. I’m going to say that heating up the sauce and boiling the water for pasta takes maybe another 5 minutes, and so total active time for this meal – thanks to Past Nicole, who put things in the freezer – is only about 20 minutes, plus cauliflower roasting time.

Thursday

This is by far the easiest and fastest weeknight meal in my arsenal: tortilla wraps. I cut up veggies and avocado, I put a couple of chicken breasts in the air fryer for the guys to slice up and add to their wraps, and I put out shredded cheese and salsa for those who wanted it. The total active time for this is maybe 10 minutes. It’s perfect for a Thursday night when it feels like the week has been busy and tiring and is it Friday yet? No? Okay, tortilla wraps it shall be.

Friday

My favourite night of the week! I could eat this meal every single day for the rest of my life, happily. Greek salad with hummus and pita, and, of course, Friday night wine. I also put some chicken in the air fryer, and for those of you who are wondering, I have a double air fryer in which one side is reserved for meat only, and the other side for vegetables. I get a lot of use out of it; it is an easy way to cook meat without having to actively cook meat. In any case, this week I made hummus, which takes probably 15 minutes, most of which are me gathering the ingredients before putting everything in the food processor. The salad itself takes 10 minutes, between chopping the veggies and making the dressing. Usually I buy mini pitas, but they didn’t have them this week, so I sliced up regular-sized ones, which took a few minutes. Total active time: 30 minutes.

Saturday

What can I say, I was missing guacamole, and I had bought a bag of avocados on Monday that ripened perfectly for this week – two were ripe on Thursday, and four on Saturday. I consider that a sign from the universe. I roasted sweet potatoes and red peppers, sauteed black beans with some cumin, coriander, chili powder, and lime, and then whipped up a batch of guacamole. It makes a perfect burrito! Total active time is about 35 minutes: 10 minutes for the guac (not including sampling it with chips), 10 minutes to chop the vegetables, and 15 minutes to rinse and drain the beans, and then sauté them. Somewhat fun story: we call these enchiladas in our house even though they are not enchiladas. Years ago I had made them into actual enchiladas, with cheese and sauce, for a friend who was going through cancer treatment at the time, and I made them for our family without the cheese and sauce, and without baking them. Still we call them enchiladas.

Sunday

This is the only day that I make a meat-centric meal, which this week was a roast pork with gravy, the active time of which is about 20 minutes. I also make an amazing roasted broccoli dish, which I long ago adapted from a recipe on The Kitchn website, a Caesar salad, and crispy roasted potatoes. Chopping time for the lettuce and veggies is about 20 minutes total; the dressings for the broccoli and salad take another 20 minutes, plus 5 minutes for toasted breadcrumbs. Assembling all of the dishes is another 5 minutes, which is a total of 70 minutes of active time, plus a lot of waiting-for-everything-to-cook time.

But wait! There’s more!

I came across this sweet little product around Christmastime but never used it until last weekend. Friends, let me tell you about strawberry daiquiri pie, a dessert that actually does take only ten minutes to make, albeit it needs a couple of hours to set. I make a graham cracker crust with coconut oil – just stir 1/4 cup melted coconut oil into 1 1/4 cups graham crumbs and squish the mixture into a pie pan – and then I whirred 3 cups thawed frozen strawberries and a can of this sweetened condensed coconut milk in my food processor, poured it into the crust, froze it for a couple of hours, and added a quick chocolate sauce for serving. YES.

Two things have become obvious here: a) I really like roasted vegetables, and b) I don’t mind cooking meat too much as long as I can use virtually hands-off processes. I know a lot of vegan friends won’t allow meat into their homes, but I’m pretty easygoing about the whole thing. We are all on our own journeys, people, and the guys in my house, well, their journeys include meat. I do have separate pans and serving utensils for meats, though, I can only be so easy-breezy.

I guess one more thing is obvious, and that is that I love dessert. It’s February, after all, and pink desserts are de rigeur. I hope you are having a delicious day! xo