Summer Sangria...by (Angela) Jean

I come from a family of wine enthusiasts. They aren't the kind of wine enthusiasts that are snobbish about wine or the kind that spend a lot of time talking about 'bouquets' or 'end notes' or 'mouth-feel'. They don't buy really expensive wine...almost everyone in my family makes their own wine. They just like wine and drink wine. Often.
In that respect, I'm the a-typical one. It's not that I don't like wine, I just don't drink it as often as the rest of them. I can even go months without it. I have my vices, but wine is not one of them.
With all that said, lately, I've been craving sangria. I enjoyed an amazing pitcher of sangria on a patio in Yorkville, while out for drinks with colleagues recently. Ever since, I've had a hankering to make my own.
I've canvassed some of my foodie friends for recipes and I've done some research. From what I've found you really can't go wrong. You must have wine, you must have fruit and you must have fruit juice, but other than that, the options for sangria ingredients are many and varied. Which wine, fruit or juice you use is up to you. Some recipes call for brandy, some add soda water, some even include gin! It seems to come down to personal preference and your sense of adventure.
I gave it my first try yesterday. My in-laws came for dinner to celebrate my husband's birthday. It was a beautiful summer evening so we ate outside. The sangria was a big hit.
So, if you are looking for something fruity and fresh to sip on the patio, here's my recipe. It's a hybrid of several recipes I found online, and one from my friend Dana (stay tuned for a post about her etsy site soon!).

Ingredients
2 bottles dry red wine (I chose a Spanish Rioja...it's sangria after all)
1 cup brandy
1/2 cup triple-sec
1 cup orange juice
1 cup mango juice
1 cup pomegranate juice
2 oranges, sliced
1 lemon, sliced
2 limes, sliced
2 apples sliced
a couple handfuls of cherries, pitted and sliced in half
club soda (optional)
ice....lots of ice

Instructions
In a (very) large pitcher (I suppose you could use a soup pot if you don't have a large pitcher) mix the wine, brandy, triple sec and juice. Add all the sliced fruit.

Stir. (see? this is really not hard).

Some of the recipes I saw called for sugar or simple syrup (basically sugar water). I didn't add any, but if you like it sweeter you could...or you could just add more juice. Refrigerate. Some recipes said you have to let it sit for 24 hours. I only had 3, but it was still lovely. I had some of the leftovers today and it was also good. If you have time, let it sit. If you don't...well, it'll be fine.
Fill the glasses with ice, and pour in the chilled sangria. If you want a fizzy version, add the club soda.

Salud!

Back and Forth...by (Angela) Jean

Where I grew up, commuting didn't exist. At least the kind of commuting I know today. My parents both worked about a 5-10 minute drive from where we lived. If their work day ended at 5pm, we expected them to walk through the door at 5:10. They even came home for lunch! I'm sure to them, what I do today is absolutely insane, and in many ways they're right.

For me, a typical day starts at 6:10am, when I leave the house to walk to the corner to catch the city bus. I live right at the end of my street so that takes about 6-8 minutes...on a good day. When the snow is up to my knees, (not too many people shovel their sidewalks before 6:10am) I give myself some extra time. For most of the year, I walk this walk in darkness, but since the longest days are now upon us, my morning walks are peaceful and bright.

I wait at the bus stop, PRESTO card in hand.

I love my PRESTO card...it's the newly instituted transit fare payment card that I can use on all 3 legs of my journey. It automatically calculates the proper fare for each transit type, and when my balance dips below $20, it tops itself up and charges my credit card. No more buying monthly passes or waiting in line for tickets or tokens. Brilliant!

Since my stop is the first on the route, I'm usually the first one to board. The bus continues on its meandering path around the neighbourhood, picking up a full load of early travelers, and after a 25 minute ride, drops us off at the GO station. (GO Transit is the commuter train service for the Greater Toronto Area, and according to its website it carries 57 million passengers a year).

I don't actually get to ride one of these buses, but I think they are real snazzy-lookin.

I board my train to Toronto at 6:55am. It's the first Express train of the day, meaning it has stopped at all the stops from Hamilton, but from my stop, it goes straight to Union with no stops.

This is what an empty train looks like, but the morning trains are so packed that I'm lucky if I get a seat at all.

On this day I had to sit on the stairs between the upper and lower levels.

The train ride is pleasant enough. Nobody talks on the GO. It's eerily quiet. Most people read books or newspapers or obsessively check their Blackberries (or pretend to check their Blackberry, but instead secretly take photographs to post on their blog...cough...cough).

The scenery? Well...it depends on what side of the train you're on. If you look out the north-facing windows, you see factories, scrap yards, train yards, golf courses and residential neighbourhoods.

If you look out the south-facing windows, you see the QEW, the Gardiner Expressway, and the Toronto skyline.

You can also see Lake Ontario and airplanes taking off from the Island Airport. On this day, at this particular moment, the plane in the photo holds none other than my co-blogger Ruth, on a flight to Ottawa. For reals. (you might have to click on the photo to see the plane)

I arrive at Union Station at a little past 7:30am...on a good day...I could go on ad nauseum about GO train delays, but it might put you into a coma.

From there, I follow the underground maze to the Subway and ride up to College Station.

On most days, I'm at my desk by about 7:45. Phew. Are you tired yet?
If you don't do this kind of thing on a daily basis, you probably think I'm nuts. And I would agree with you.
Why do I do it? Why do I spend more time during the week riding transit than I spend with my kids? Why do I spend almost $300 a month to get to work? It's crazy, right? I don't think I have a good answer. I love where I live, and I love my work. They just happen to be too far away from each other. When we moved to our house, I was on maternity leave and I knew that I would be commuting when I returned to work. I knew the train ride was 30 minutes, but I didn't factor in the time to get to the train, or the subway time once I arrived in the city. If I had really understood the complete commuting picture, I would have thought twice about buying this house.
In my mind 3 hours of commuting time a day is not sustainable long-term. Can I see myself doing this for another 20 years? I don't think so. But, for the time being, I have no plans to move and I am not looking for another job so I choose to focus on the positive. I use my commuting time as "me" time. I read novels. I cyber-stalk my friends, relatives and random acquaintances on Facebook and Twitter. I read other people's blogs and brainstorm my own blog topics. I catch up on my texts and emails. Sometimes I snooze and sometimes, if it had been one of those days, I eat ice cream (but only on the way home...not at 7am!)
I think things through, and I let go of the stress of the day, so that when I do get home I can be completely and fully present.

Back and Forth... by Barbara (Ruth)

Back and forth, back and forth. Like the tarnished brass pendulum in an old clock, a metronome tapping out the rhythm for a piano student, or a magician's watch swinging from his gloved hand as he hypnotizes you.

The phrase "back and forth" brings to mind something monotonous and repetitive. Our Canadian readers may have heard the Longo's grocery store radio commercial in which a monotone female voice says, "you get up you wake up the kids you get dressed you wake up the kids again you have breakfast you drive the kids to school you go to work..." And it goes on, until the woman goes to Longos and buys Italian cheese that reminds her of that vacation twenty years ago where she met Octavio! And then it goes back to the monotonous drone of her day, back and forth between work and home.

I guess we all have a bit of the "back and forth" syndrome in our lives. I know I do. But there is one "back and forth" that I complete a dozen or more times each year, and it is neither sleep-inducing nor monotonous, although it could be.

I'm referring to my trek from Toronto to our family cottage in Muskoka. Now if you're not a cottager (or an equivalent - a weekend camper or a hiker, perhaps) you probably think people like me are completely nuts. Spending hours in traffic each weekend, burning through gas, seeing the same boring scenery fly (or crawl) by, just to turn around a few days later and reverse the process - well, that is clearly not everyone's cup of tea.

This kind of traffic isn't really ANYONE'S cup of tea.

But don't mind the trek. For a few reasons. First, I know that this is waiting for me at the other end. The dock is the most peaceful place in my world, and I instantly feel the tensions of the week seep away. The water is calming, the sunsets are glorious, and the frogs and the loons sing me to sleep. I sleep VERY well at the cottage.

And anyway, I kind of like the back and forth of it. You can make it all about the traffic, or obsessively timing yourself to see if you can beat your record (2:18). Or you can set yourself little milestones along the way, and note the quirky little sights that make cottage country so loveable.

No road trip is complete without a passenger, and this is usually mine. She's pretty good about it too, and a "must have" at any woodland cottage prone to mice.

My route can be very boring if I'm in a hurry - straight up the 400 pretty much all the way. Not a whole lot to see except the amazing Muskoka granite in shades of pink and grey. My Mum and I used to marvel at how the engineers cut through it to build the highways - it was only a couple of years ago that the 400 completed its two-lane construction all the way to Parry Sound.

I much prefer the route that veers off of the 400 at Barrie, taking you along Highway 11 through Orillia, Gravenhurst and Bracebridge and into my little village of Rosseau. There is always something new to see, and as I thought about this post today, I took a few extra pics from the car (pardon the quality). Someday I'm going to write about yet another route home - the things you see if you're paying attention!

Anyway, here's a taste of my back and forth route to heaven on earth.

Dad always said "the Severn bridge is where we enter the North". It's not, of course.
It's  "central" Ontario, or as we call it, "the near north."

In 1963 Weber's hamburger joint opened along Highway 11 inArdtrea, Ontario. Soon it became a mecca for cottagers both to and from the cottage, creating serious traffic issues as people crossed 4 lanes of traffic for a burger and fries. In 1981 the government fixed that by installing a barrier down the centre of the highway. In 1982 they added a chain link fence to stop people from climbing over the barrier. 

In 1983, Webers bought this bridge that had been a pedestrian walkway
to the CN Tower in Toronto. Now customers could get across the highway
safely. Genius.
 

This rock formation awaits me as I round "my corner" in Bent River. It's a hairpin turn that leads me to my first glimpse of Lake Rosseau, and means I'm only about 15 minutes from my destination.

The view from the bottom of the rock formation.

The first view of the village of Rosseau.

c. 1874. One of my favourite places. Ever. The screen door slams, the wooden floors squeak,
and there's an ice cream stand that serves ENORMOUS scoops.

The gravel road leading into my lake.

The driveway leading into our cottage.

Home.

Sugar Sugar... by Barbara (Ruth)

Ever had a sugar craving?

I don't mean the usual, mild, "gee I feel like a cookie" kind of craving. I don't even mean the more urgent "I have to have a chocolate bar RIGHT NOW" kind of craving.

No, I mean the knock-down, full-out "I need sugar, and lots of it, RIGHT NOW" kind of craving.

I have some kind of genetic abnormality that has resulted in a truly awful sweet tooth. I don't know ANYONE that has this problem to the same degree. I am a bear when my blood sugar gets low, and usually a piece of fruit or a sandwich will suffice, but sometimes, when I'm particularly tired or cranky, the sweet tooth must be satisfied. It's kind of like the vampires on True Blood. Sometimes the fake blood drink will do, but other times... a vamp's got to do, what a vamp's got to do!

For me, my craving can be solved by any of the following:

My niece calls this my "chocolate
syrup soup".

A large amount of ice cream, preferably with chunks of sugary crap in it, smothered in Hershey's chocolate sauce (not a driddle of sauce, but several large glugs of it), and topped with nuts and chocolate chips.

A bag of M&Ms. The big 1/2 pound bag. Plain or peanut.

An unreasonable number of Reese's peanut butter cups. (Like 6 or 8. And not the teeny Hallowe'en sizes.)

Enough sour gummies to make the inside of my mouth raw.

Oh heaven!

Cookie dough. You know, the Pillsbury kind that comes in a tube. I eat it with a spoon and it is truly wonderful. I've actually never made it through an entire tube, but half is definitely doable. (Incidentally, this is also good for late night chats with a BFF, especially when accompanied by tea.)

Don't judge. At least not yet. You haven't heard the worst!

When I'm on a health kick (like I am now), there is nothing unhealthy in my house. I don't have any of those craving-satisfying foods. Anywhere! (Believe me, I've looked, just to be sure.) But you know I've become creative over the years.

Corn syrup. It isn't just for baking anymore.

I have been known to eat homemade jam from the jar, drink maple syrup from the bottle (only the real stuff), make apple crisp topping (oatmeal, butter, brown sugar, cinnamon) and eat it, have a few spoonfuls of corn syrup (don't be shocked - it's basically liquid gummie bears), and root around in the brown sugar jar looking for lumps. I also used to make extra icing when baking, and leave the leftover in the freezer - it is EXCELLENT frozen. 

Thank goodness this doesn't happen too often, or I would weigh 500 pounds. But this week was long, and today was tiring - I succumbed (GW) at work and had 4 sugar cubes (cane sugar... soooo good...), and am trying REALLY hard not to have anything tonight. I was hoping that writing it down would take away my urge, but it didn't work. My mouth is actually watering right now, thinking about ice cream and cookie dough. And there is corn syrup in my cupboard, and a new bag of brown sugar too. But I'm not going to do it. 

I. Can. Be. Strong. (Mostly.)

Suburban Foraging...by (Angela) Jean

We have been taking advantage of the longer days around here and going for family walks after supper.

There is a great park just about 10 minutes away. It has a large pond with geese and ducks, a wooden bridge and smooth paths for walking and bike riding. They have done a lovely job of landscaping with native grasses, wildflowers and indigenous trees. It is filled with gold finches, red-winged blackbirds, cardinals and even the occasional heron. In the winter, the pond freezes over and becomes the local hockey rink.

 The rascals love running across the wooden bridge... 

and along the pathways...

but the best part of park visits in early summer is....JUNEBERRY PICKING !

We often elicit stares as we pick and eat the wild berries in the park. People have even stopped to tell me that they're poisonous, but we just chuckle and say we haven't died yet. I've been eating these berries since I was a kid. They taste similar to blueberries but have a slightly mellower flavour, and in my opinion, they even taste better than blueberries. The kids love picking the berries and can spot a Juneberry bush  from quite a distance.

They will stand there, picking and eating until we drag them away.

On this particular evening the berry fun didn't end there. On our way home we stopped at the house on the corner of our street; the one with the giant mulberry tree. And guess what? It was also heavily laden with fruit.

Last year, the kids and I knocked on the homeowner's door to ask if we could pick his berries. He looked at us like we were nuts and said he didn't think they were edible, but we could go ahead if we wanted to. I came back with some containers and we picked for an hour. He didn't complain when I knocked again and left a bowl of berries for him.

I suggest you take a look around your neighbourhood and see what's growing. You never know, you could save some money on groceries.

Sizzle....by (Angela) Jean

Pancakes are a kind of a big deal at our house. Over the last year or so, Shawn has mastered the art of the flapjack, and although his pancakes were perfect, we all ate in shifts because he could only make 3 at a time. So, this year, for Father's Day, Daddy got a fancy, family-size, electric griddle.

He loved it. And this Sunday, we plugged it in and took it for a spin.

Mimi helped to mix the batter.

Look at that! We tripled our output. How's that for process improvement?

Perfection.

 

 

 

 

Topped off with real maple syrup.

The Pancake King has tested several pancake recipes, but always comes back to Martha's. 

Best Buttermilk Pancakes, from the Martha Stewart Baking Handbook

• 2 cups all-purpose flour
• 2 teaspoons baking powder
• 1 teaspoon baking soda
• 1/2 teaspoon salt
• 3 tablespoons sugar
• 2 large eggs, lightly beaten
• 3 cups buttermilk
• 4 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted, plus 1/2 teaspoon for griddle

Directions

1. Heat griddle to 375 degrees. Whisk together flour, baking powder, baking soda, salt, and sugar in a medium bowl. Add eggs, buttermilk, and 4 tablespoons butter; whisk to combine. Batter should have small to medium lumps.
   
2. Heat oven to 175 degrees. Test griddle by sprinkling a few drops of water on it. If water bounces and spatters off griddle, it is hot enough. Using a pastry brush, brush remaining 1/2 teaspoon of butter or reserved bacon fat onto griddle. Wipe off excess.
   
3. Using a 4-ounce ladle, about 1/2 cup, pour pancake batter, in pools 2 inches away from one other. When pancakes have bubbles on top and are slightly dry around edges, about 2 1/2 minutes, flip over. Cook until golden on bottom, about 1 minute.
   
4. Repeat with remaining batter, keeping finished pancakes on a heatproof plate in oven. Serve warm.
   

The only substitutions we've ever made to this recipe are when we have a hankering for pancakes but no buttermilk on hand. I have mixed a few tablespoons of sour cream into regular milk with good success. Shawn has substituted yogurt for the buttermilk, also with good success. The yogurt pancakes turn out a bit spongier than buttermilk pancakes, but still delicious.

Shawn had so much fun with the griddle that he didn't want to put it away. We made it a double-griddle day with tuna melts for lunch. 

No special recipe here, just tuna, green onions, mayo, black pepper and cheddar cheese. We served it with red peppers and fresh baby arugula salad from the garden-our first harvest of the year.

Stay tuned for more griddle recipes. I have a feeling things are about to get sizzle-y around here.

A Campaign for Cromulent Words... by Barbara (Ruth)

A while ago I posted about "Good Words", and I got quite a response! There really is a dearth (GW) of good words in today's general spoken and/or written word, and I was pleased to learn there are a number of fellow "wordies" out there.

But how many of you like Cromulent Words?

Oh, you don't know what a cromulent word is? Ahhh... Now we are separating the wheat from the chaffe.

First uttered on the Simpsons episode "Lisa the Iconoclast" in 1996, cromulent is a made up word that describes made up words as real words. Sound confusing? It is. It's the circular reasoning that makes it so brilliant. Cromulence usually refers to words that sound like they should be words, but aren't.

For example, the state motto of Springfield, the city in which the Simpsons live, is "a noble spirit embiggens the smallest man." What a great use of cromulence! So great, that at work my friend Chris and I dared each other to use embiggen in a sentence in a meeting. And we did it. And no one noticed!

Some of you might think that cromulence would apply to words that some people use incorrectly and that just aren't words at all. Words like orientated, anticdotal, dethaw (oh that one really irks me), and even beers (look it up).

No, cromulent words are completely and totally made up. Here are a few examples:

• Chestal. "I have a cold, mostly in the chestal area."
• Wonderance. "The place was imbued with wonderance and youth."
• Interconnectitude. "This project is so complex we need to be sure to consider all the points of interconnectitude."
• Mononeurosymbiosis. "I was just thinking the same thing. Yet another example of our mononeurosymbiosis!"

Have you got any examples of cromulence in your lexicon (GW)? If so, let me know and I'll postify it!