New Year's Gougeres

Today I was jonesing for gougeres, so I made a batch while listening to CBC Radio One--a program about the dire situation in Syria. I wish for peace for them. I made a lentil curry soup for lunch, with some spices I brought back from Montréal. Saturday I went for Sunch with some girlfriends at Chutney Villa, reminding me what a great deal it is (12.95 for brunch and chai) and how good it tastes. The sambar was better than average, so it inspired me to riff on that theme.

I have no idea what to make for New Year's eve Dinner. I did fall for the cuteness of some New Year's themed brownie bites at Whole Foods, so dessert is covered and we're going to drink the mead I received for Christmas. Everything I feel like making involves foods that my family don't like. Bummer.

The Ins and Outs of 2010

Well, I've been reading the top ten lists that inevitably come out at this time of the year and some have resonated with me. The Daily Beast, for instance, picked up on the gluten free trend which seems to have really taken off and also the new interest in coconut, which has piqued my curiosity. I love coconut water and coconut flour certainly intrigues me. Eating local and urban farming is really hot right now and there is much demand for us to talk about our experiments with the Two Block Diet. Two of our group even ended up on the front page of the Vancouver Sun.

For me, this is the year that I got really tired of the food snobs. My personal approach to food has become much more humble, pared down and (I hope) respectful. I no longer seek the ultimate exotic taste sensation, but I want simple, reverent experiences with food, friends, and family. Let's face it--food snobs are bores and just end up whining about mediocre food ad nauseum. I'm sick of them and they are banished to sit in the corner with their jaded palates to keep them company.

Food is precious. I was touched when a man doing charitable work in Guatemala told me they eat their corn one grain at a time. Why? Because it is packed with more nutrition than our corn and because they are preparing themselves for a famine this year. That story makes me grateful for the richness of the food we have here in BC.

I heart bloggers. This is the year I really grew fond of the people who have no pretensions to stardom, but just share what they make and do for the sheer love of it. They are keeping it real and they inspire me. Sure, there are some bloggers who designate themselves worthy to freeload with impunity. You know who you are. Go sit in the corner. There's been a lot of blogger bashing going on in the media this year, ironically done by people who not too long ago were humble bloggers themselves. Methinks they do protest too much. Other people bash bloggers while desperately trying to re-invent themselves through social media because print is dying. Enough of the haters and the professional cynics. You, go sit in the corner with your lump of coal and your bitter self -loathing.

This is the year that coalition governments are in, budget cuts are in, the old party leaders are out and there's not much hope for any of our political parties. Bicycle lanes are in, and thank goodness we've got a mayor who is a man of action and stands by his principals. There's hope for us yet. Susan Anton can go sit in the corner too. She's out.

This is the year of celebrity Twitter. My in list is: Stephen Fry, who now has two million followers; Jamie Oliver, who tirelessly interacts with his fans; and comedian Ed Byrne who's wife just had a baby boy. Congrats!

Facebook is on everyone's lips, but I have still not joined because frankly my dear, I'd rather bake an apple cranberry streusel pie, like the one I just took out of the oven (Sid Goldstein's recipe).

This year I am ever more grateful for faithful friends. You rock!

Sanity in Mind and Body

The Zen Buddhist monk Thich Nhat Hanh says that "the sanity of the body is the sanity of the mind." That would be a pretty good mantra. Today after we got back from school I told Ules I needed a nap. He gave me a hug and a kiss and rubbed my back between the shoulder blades just the way I had done for him when he had a nose bleed on Sunday. It was very sweet and tender and good for my sanity.

For those of us who had babies in 2000, the real turn of the decade for us will be on our child's tenth birthday. This will mark the halfway point to their adulthood. The last ten years have been marred by paranoia, fear-mongering and hatred on a grand scale, but when it comes to the home front we tried our best to foster affection, loyalty, patience, and passion in our personal and *familial relationships. Locavores of lurve. I think what has really marked the decade for me is a kind of weird nostalgia for off-battlefield WWII-- the old "mucking in and helping each other in the blitz" kind of spirit. Victory Gardens are all the rage, and a local shop here sells tea towels and aprons with WWII slogans: "MEND AND MAKE DO," and "KEEP CALM AND CARRY ON." The growing awareness of global warming has made us think about thrift and courage at home as well as the preservation and mending of the fragile environment which shelters, clothes, and feeds us.

This was a decade I really became rooted in domesticity in spite of my wanderlust and foolish dreams. An artist who saw me at a party the other day sneered at me and said, "I thought you were still barefoot and pregnant."
"Uh, no. But at least I'm not a sorry prick like you," I thought. I have been typecast as a mommy, and I might as well enjoy the role and settle in for the long haul. So I am volunteering for my son's school any opportunity I can and that has lead me to develop relationships with some very cool people, including many artists and creative people who are mothers.

This was the decade I fully explored a passion in food and wine and have ended up sated, saftig, and back to eating very simple foods. Last night we had crab, rice, and salad. No sauce, just good ingredients, like the chefs say. Last week I went out for an eggs benny and was surprised to find fresh imported fruit on my plate in the middle of winter. It felt wrong and unappealing. Mushy melon and tasteless strawberries don't do it for me at all. I mean, if you are going to go to all the trouble to import fruit from somewhere, at least import native fruit that is in season from the country you imported it from!

This was the decade I fell in love with UBC Farm and discovered my passion for gardening and teaching. I am very grateful for that and for the dedicated group of people who meet weekly to keep the pressure on the university to save the farm. It is through my relationship to the farm that Vancouver is starting to feel like my home, even after more than a decade of living here. This decade has been marked by a taming of my restlessness, my fernweh. I would love to do more work as an artist, travel more as an artist, but I have commitments at home that I need to attend to. This year I am really going to delve deep into my psyche and ask myself what kind of artist I am developing into and why do I make art at all. What's the point, Alfie? Is it to keep myself from destroying myself or to actually contribute something to society? (I've always felt it was more the former than the latter.) Sometimes asking yourself the question is what makes you crazy. Anyway, I will just have to take that risk. See you at the funny farm.

*I saw a sign the other day that said "Forgive quickly and kiss slowly." I think that's a good one. Maybe we need to make a version of it to hang on our wall, especially since our family can be quite volatile at times. Ahem.

Resolutions Close to the Bone

There are many beautiful restaurants in Vancouver, but my favorite place to go is still Aphrodite's, which serves beautiful fresh, organic food in a lovely heritage building. I always take a browse through Banyen Books after I eat lunch which is very inspiring and calming. That's exactly what I did today before I headed down to the beach at Point Grey Park to gaze at the horizon.

Every year I make 100 resolutions for the New Year. Yes, 100. I do a stream of consciousness exercise and get them down on the page. I've done it for years. This year my resolutions follow some general patterns, so I have broken them down into 12 main points.

1) Accepting the aging process with humility, grace and dignity.
2) Recycling more, consuming less.
3) Creating more, consuming less.

4) Learning more about gardening.
5) Stepping up my cooking reperatoire.
6) Being more tender and understanding with people.

7) Forming a creativity support circle.
8) Blogging and writing honestly and close to the bone.
9) Cleaning the clutter out of the house.
10) Reach a higher level of professionalism in my work.
11) Lose the frickin' weight and get fit!
12) Be more focused within my goals.

So there you have it. Small steps. Good luck with your resolutions and Happy New Year!

Wrapping it Up

I spent the day after New Year's packing up Christmas. The sun streamed through my windows warming the house as I listened to my favorite Hilliard Ensemble recording. I took the time to carefully wrap the fragile ornaments in tissue and paper straw, sipped green tea and ate biscotti.

I've been thinking about the theme of my New Year's resolutions. I think the word would be "lightness", to have a softer, more subtle touch, to add more levity to my life, to let go of the attachments that drag me down into the dreck. The trick of living in a big city is to have a compassionate outlook and attitude, but not let the suffering and frustration you see around you overwhelm your soul. Many troubles weigh on our minds--especially when we listen to the news on the radio, but at the end of the day you can only hold so much sorrow in your body. You have to let it go. My new trick is to compose haikus in my head before I go to sleep. It's a good habit to get into.


We are waiting for the snow to melt. It's been three weeks. Apparently there's a warm rain gonna fall. I'll believe it when I see it. Lots of trees with broken branches on the walk to school today. Lots of small cars spinnin' their wheels in the snow. Even a big truck full of ale was stuck on Ontario street today. Beer dude, like stay on the main roads! Too bad it wasn't a chocolate delivery truck.

I'm entering the New Year reluctantly, which is odd for me. I just see big piles of work on my desks, tables, chairs, even on the floors. Maybe the rain will melt those piles away too.

Truly you know Christmas is over when you eat the last scrap of Oyama paté, which I did this evening. Well...I still have some discounted Christmas goodies from Choices and Sweet Obsession, so you see I'm stretching it out even further this year. I don't want to risk a lack of chocolate between now and Valentine's Day. Especially with all this snow on the ground and delivery trucks getting waylaid. But if you are driving past our house and get mired in the white stuff, just be sure that we will shovel for chocolate. Good luck with your New Year's Resolutions.

Happy Gnu Year!