On Riots.

It's hard to know exactly what to say about the awfulness that happened here in Vancouver last night. It's hard because I feel too much to articulate it intelligently: anger, shock, disappointment, disbelief, sadness, embarrassment, and fear at how thin our veneer of community and civilization appears to be.

Playoff hockey stresses me out to no end. I felt physically ill during all of Game 6, and so I made plans with my friends Caitlin, Cathy, Scott and Damon to see Stephen Sondheim's "Company" on the big screen at Tinseltown, at Abbott and Pender, during Game 7. I figured if we won I'd watch the highlights on replay, and if we lost, well - I wouldn't. It was a theatre full of girls n' gays - most of whom I knew - and I was thoroughly enjoying the show until my purse started vibrating from anxious text messages from my mom, who wanted to know where I was, that I was safe, and that I would avoid the areas where riots had already broken out and were being televised.

As we left the theatre, we began to be more and more aware of what had happened. We decided to walk as a convoy to my place, where Cathy would attempt to drive Scott and our friends Kate and Matthew home to the West End and Kits, as buses and taxis had stopped running (we didn't know that the Cambie, Granville and Burrard bridges were also closed at this point). Tinseltown is only two blocks from my house, so the walk was relatively quiet, although we could see cop cars barricading the streets to the west of us. We left poor Damon at the Stadium Skytrain, which I would never have done had I known that three cars were lit on fire within a block of the station. Luckily he made it onto a train and got home safe. Cathy and her group left, hoping to make a big loop around downtown, and Caitlin and I went up on the roof here at Woodwards to watch what was happening.

It was a slightly horrific sight. We watched lines of police in riot gear walk lock-step down streets in order to clear them. We could hear the recorded messages being blared from parked police cars warning people that this was an area of "unlawful assembly" and to leave the area or force would be used. We heard several loud explosions and saw flickers of fire from the Seymour and Pender area, where cars were set alight, and watched plumes of smoke rise from the Bay. Caitlin and I stood mostly in silence with my neighbours, shaking our heads and staring in disbelief at the police helicopters circling the city.

After Caitlin left (Carman, her husband, was somehow able to get down here to pick her up), it took a long time to fall asleep. I stayed up watching the surreal coverage on CBC and CTV, and then lay wide awake staring at the ceiling, listening to the persistent revelers who were still drinking and carousing in Gastown as if nothing had happened. I couldn't get over the unsettling thought that our city would transform into a war zone in the event of a natural disaster like an earthquake - that it would become every man for himself, with no peace or cooperation without heavy legal intervention. This unsettled me more than anything - is this the way Vancouver behaves in an emergency? If so, God help us.

This morning I woke up to a text from my friend Kate (one of my several Kates - I have a harem of them you know). We had plans for the day anyway - to make Mason Raymond a get-well card and compose some songs on my new tenor ukulele, Maklenko (traditional Hawaiian name, butchered by my dad). Instead, Kate was downtown by 8:30, picking up garbage as part of the clean up. I joined her at Pender and Richards by 10, and we walked up to Seymour to survey the damage at the Bay, which was extensive: remnants of burnt cars, windows smashed and boarded up, graffiti on the walls in Sharpie marker.

The graffiti bothered us the most. It all said some variation of "Fuck Boston," and we felt it wrongly associated hockey and Canuck fans with the atrocities of last night. We wanted it gone.

Now, I am my mother's daughter. I know my cleaning products. I was pretty damn sure that a combination of Mr. Clean Magic Eraser and SOS Pads would do the trick. Kate and I stocked up at London Drugs, and then attacked the wall. For the next five hours, we scrubbed, accompanied by a host of strangers: Katelynn, the darling girl who came equipped with her own Magic Eraser on her lunch break; Tim, who brought a broom and rag to reach the higher-up parts; Clay and Adam, two young guys who had been downtown last night and were unable to sleep after what they saw took place; Sheila, Brenda and Susan, who all joined us for various parts of the day and supplied us with SOS Pads, Magic Eraser and rubbing alcohol; Lee, who bought us extra cleaning supplies; Rachel and Danny, who joined us in the later part of the day, and Brian, who quickly commandeered his own pillar next door in order to get more cleaning done.

A number of media outlets came by to interview us, which was fine, I guess - as long as the story was not about the rioters and was about the community coming together, I was happy. The Re-Up BBQ came by and gave us delicious pulled pork sandwiches and iced tea for lunch. Several Bay employees came outside with tears in their eyes to thank us for cleaning their store, and gamely refilled our water buckets all afternoon, carting dirty water inside and emerging with fresh water whenever we needed it. Many strangers thanked us as they walked by, or stopped to sign the "Citizens' Wall" in Sharpie marker - the boarded up windows of the Bay had become a place for people to place messages of positivity or dismay at what had occurred. People approached us with donuts, Timbits, bottles of water, and burgers, just regular people who were grateful for what we were doing and wanted to show us their support. There were also annoying "disaster tourists" - people who came by to gawk, take pictures of us, and natter away at us about their "riot stories," before ambling off. These people annoyed me the most - the people that wanted to wallow in the negativity of what had happened, and shake their heads, without actually doing anything.

After five hours of cleaning, we had made good progress. We had removed all the graffiti from the marble portion of our column, and had gotten almost all of the words "Fuck Boston" off of the white, painted portion of the pillar. My hands were shriveled and red from hours of scrubbing and exposure to chemicals. My shoulder was sore from standing with arms outreached. At this point, there were so many people "helping" that it was almost comical. People would just walk up to various spots on our clean pillar, and without a word start wiping it with a cloth, or a sponge - cleaning what had already been cleaned several times - that I decided it was time to go. I'd done enough. What we were doing was becoming almost symbolic rather than useful. I took some pictures of the Citizens' Wall (which you can see on Flickr here) and ambled home, weary and still slightly shell-shocked.

I still don't know what to make of what has happened. I cannot take the safe view that this was an "isolated" incident fuelled by a handful of "anarchists." I've seen the photos. I know better. There were hundreds of people, seemingly ordinary people, who in one night destroyed my city's reputation and destroyed our sense of safe community. While I found some relief and comfort in the outpouring of community support today, I think it will take a long time for Vancouver to recover from this. And to all of those people who have remarked on Twitter and Facebook that they are "disgusted and ashamed to be from Vancouver," I'd say, put up or shut up. Put on a pair of gloves, get out there, and start scrubbing. Make an effort to make this a community you want to be a part of, and that you feel proud to belong to, not just today, but every day. Imagine what a fantastic place Vancouver would be if we all put our money where our mouth was and actively participated in building community. Imagine.

Weekend Update.

Busy weekend - I couldn't figure out why I was so tired this evening, but looking back - I got a lot accomplished! No wonder I'm tuckered!

Friday night I performed at the Moveable Music School Coffeehouse with my friends Gil and Sarah Jaysmith. Gil and Sarah compose beautiful songs and recently asked me if I'd like to sing with them - silly Jaysmiths. When do I ever turn down an opportunity to sing? We did a four song set - Gil performed two solos, I did one, a great torch song called "Your Victim," and then Gil and I finished with a duet called "Walk with You" which went over really well - someone audibly said "wow" as the applause started. Hooray for us!

There were a number of other greats acts playing at the Moveable Music School:

"Hint of Lime" (named for the Tostitos). They play gypsy jazz and boss-nova type stuff.

Gary Cyr and Ron Usher - there was a lot of ukelele happening that night. At the intermission Gary strapped his uke onto me (no that's not a euphemism) and convinced me I needed to learn how to play. I think he's right. Ron invited me to the monthly ukelele circle that is happening this Tuesday - apparently it's like, 80 ukeleles in one place. MADNESS! I am so going.

The headliners, "Brighter Lights, Thicker Glasses." These dudes were AMAZING. Here they are playing a gypsy jazz version of a Bach tune - hence the wigs. They were very diverse. They played a bluegrass waltz that made me teary, a classical guitar piece inspired by a Spanish painting, and a gypsy jazz version of "Pump the Jam." Their encore? "The Sultans of Swing."

Yesterday I had a Zumba date with my friend Caitlin. Zumba is one of my new fitness loves - it's basically Latin dancing combined with interval training, and good God, is it a workout. It's also a hoot. Lots of smiling, sweating, shimmying, and shakin' your booty.

After Zumba, I headed out to my cousin Bob's house for some family time. Sal (sister to Bob, cousin to me) was in town and makin' dinner and I don't say no to free cousin dinners. Bob's kids are 5, 4 and almost 2 and they are absolutely precious to me. I played hockey with Owen, did puzzles with Sidney, and danced with Leah - pretty much all at the same time. Owen gave me the very precious gift of a sticker from his hockey sticker book, which is now proudly displayed on the front page of my Daytimer. Before Sid went to bed, she asked me when I could come back for a tea party. I told her I would work it out with her Mom, and Sidney told me she was free on the weekend - and that my "inviting letter" would be in the mail today. They just crack me up so much, these kids.

Today I managed to drag my butt out of bed by noon (!) to do a workout outside, as I didn't want to waste the sun, and then I headed to J Lounge in my old neighbourhood, the West End, where my friend Sabrina was hosting a Tony Awards cabaret. My friends Kate and Cathy were also performing at the cabaret and I got up to sing my favourite Barbra Streisand moment in an attempt to win beer - in Funny Girl, when Fanny's racing to meet Nicky and misses the boat, and heads out on tugboat through New York Harbour, and she's standing at the the bow, and she belts out "Hey Mr. Aaaaaarnsteeeeeein - heeeere IIIIIII aaaaaaaaaaaaam!" And she's wearing a fur hat and an orange dress and it's just fabulous. Sigh.

My friend Kate and her blow-up doll - performing at J Lounge. No, don't ask.

A nice leisurely stroll home to Gastown from the West End with my friend Damon, and now I'm really ready for bed. A busy week ahead, full of professional networking and social events, including the ukelele circle, a big-screen showing of Company (Sondheim!), a reunion with some Pearsonites, and a seawall walk-n-talk with Kate (minus the blow-up doll, I think). I don't know how I ever played the 9-to-5 game...



Now Playing: "Uncommon Women and Others"


I dragged my friend Zoe (read her blog here) along with me tonight to the premiere of Fighting Chance Productions' staging of "Uncommon Women and Others." Written by the late great Wendy Wasserstein, the play follows a group of girls at Mount Holyoke, a liberal arts college in Massachusetts (Emily Dickinson studied there, but left before graduating), during the 1970's. They are on the eve of their own graduation, and struggling to choose from the myriad options feminism has suddenly made open to them. A-Type Kate (Marianne Mandrusiak) is determined to attend law school but wonders if she wants her life to just "fall into place." Warm and bubbly Samantha (April Cameron) is marrying her college sweetheart because she believes she's only "a little talented" at many things and is destined to play a supporting role in life, and bombshell Muffet (Toni Nielsen) wonders where her prince is. Rita (Sarah Szloboda), the loudmouth extrovert of the group, is preparing to write the next great modern novel, bookish-but-beautiful Leila (Leala Selina) is determined to move to Iraq to study anthropology, and tomboy Holly (Natalee Fera) is really just overwhelmed by all the choices.

My first impression was that the feminist issues in Wasserstein's play have become dated. Among my girlfriends and I, getting a diaphragm is no longer a revolutionary thing - nor is sleeping with boys in college. We no longer feel the choice after school is between marriage and career, between competing ideals of traditional domesticity and the modern, "feminist" career track. We don't talk about penis envy. Some of the inner conflicts of the Uncommon Women felt tired and trite. However, there were some themes, and some lines, that still rang true. Muffet asks plaintively, "Where do you meet men after college?" I've had that conversation. Samantha's confession that she feels just a little talented at a lot of things - I've said that.

The women meet for a drink 6 years after graduation, and Holly confesses that she lost touch with her friends because she felt they didn't need her anymore, though she desperately missed their companionship. Zoe and I agreed that women still feel that need for the "sisterhood," which often is neglected in favour of career, romance, children. I found myself smiling and nodding when the still-single Muffet, who has settled for a mediocre life selling insurance in Connecticut, remarks at the reunion that she never thought she would support herself, and that she's proud of that, if nothing else.

The material may have been tired, but the women really committed to it, and convincingly portrayed a group of college friends with the closeness brought about by four years of rooming together. Sarah Szloboda was a comic standout as Rita, as was Jennifer Shirley as Carter, the girls' bemused (and mute!) freshman tag-along. April Cameron brought a warmth and sincerity to Samantha, who is almost apologetic for choosing to be a wife, but deliriously happy once the choice has been made. While Wasserstein's characters are, in essence, stereotypes, the actors managed to portray them as three dimensional, complex young women. Kudos to director Jacqueline Bennett on the casting, as there was tremendous chemistry among all the actors.

I can't say "Uncommon Women and Others" is the type of edgy fare I've come to expect from Fighting Chance's non-musical productions, but it was entertaining, and the message stayed with Zoe and I long enough that we were still debating the relevancy of its feminist themes when we got home. Plus, the soundtrack of 1970's hits forced me to go home to download a plethora of James Taylor and Cat Stevens tracks.

"Uncommon Women and Others" runs at the PAL through Saturday. Tickets are available here.


Zoe's portrait of us - she's in gold on the left, I'm in tulips on the right.

The things that happen when I go dark...

Several friends and family members get on my case from time-to-time about my addiction to social media and to my iPhone. What they don't understand is that I can multitask! I can have a conversation, cook, work, AND watch my Twitter feed, all at the same time. It's become so habitual that I feel uncomfortable when I can't be plugged in.

Tonight I met my friend Cathy at Anton's for dinner, and then we headed to the SFU Woodwards campus for a lecture hosted by Bard on the Beach called "Shakespeare 201." It was a great lecture, by Shakespeare professor Paul Budra, but I was slightly bemused as the Fei and Milton Wong Experimental Theatre, where the lecture was being held, was several stories below ground, and had no reception. I couldn't find out the hockey score, I couldn't tweet about the interesting things I was learning (like about a medieval book called "Beware the Cat," in which a man creates a "physic" that allows him to talk to cats - I must read this). I could easily have listened to Dr. Budra and tweeted. I felt slightly out of my comfort zone just sitting quietly and listening, but I managed it, although I did take out my iPhone periodically to stare at it and see if it had magically found reception.

Then, my friends Zoe and Marie came back to my house with Cathy and I for tea, chat, and a slice of my strawberry-rhubarb sour cream pie. I wanted to be polite, what with all my guests, and so I didn't look at my phone, or computer.

AND I MISSED THE ENTIRE CANUCKS/SHARKS DOUBLE OVERTIME DEBACLE.

I MISSED IT.

One of the most historic hockey moments in our city, and I missed it.

Don't get me wrong, we had some great chats. And we did remark periodically that we weren't sure why the people outside at the local pubs were still cheering, however Zoe and I, both Woodwards residents, dismissed it by saying, "Oh, that's just how it is down here. People are always looking for an excuse to be rowdy." Then, we heard it - a massive cheer.

"That does not sound like just generic hysteria," Cathy said. I agreed, and turned on the TV just in time to see the replay of Bieksa's double overtime winning goal.

Now, of course, I'm caught up, and I will be watching the NHL network on the TV for the next few hours, so it's not like I truly missed it, but really? The major historical moments of the past few years: elections, MJ's death, earthquakes, Olympics, royal weddings - I've experienced them all live on Facebook and Twitter. And I felt curiously disconnected tonight, not to hear the diverse voices of my Twitter and Facebook friends as events unfolded.

So that's it. From now on, the iPhone is not going away - social media is here to stay. And I'm not going to miss a thing.

Road Trip: Osoyoos

There's nothing else for two over-30 single girls to do on the 20th anniversary of Thelma & Louise than commemorate the occasion with a road trip (hopefully not over a cliff). So my cousin Sal and I headed up to Osoyoos to Spirit Ridge Vineyard Resort & Spa this weekend for a little adventure, and I am happy to report we did not rob anyone, shoot anyone, get robbed or shot, or get chased by the police, although we counted 21 cops on our way there and back.

We set out around 10 in the morning on Friday in high spirits, excited and just a little bit silly. By the time we got to Hope, we were giggling uncontrollably at pretty much everything, which explains this:

And this:

After we had "experienced Hope," (as we were instructed by signs at the town's entrance and exit), and I had learned all about the Rambo connection to Hope (First Blood was shot there in 1982) - which led me to sing a song about "The Rambo Connection" (the lovers, the dreamers and me) we decided since the day was nice to take the historic Hope-Princeton highway instead of the Coquihalla.

We had already decided that something funny was up with this road trip - every time I said something should appear, it did. I said something about hail, and it hailed. Then, as we entered Manning Park, I said I hoped we'd see a bear. And lo and behold:


Sal is a journalist and yet I am the one who found myself hanging out an open car window 5 feet from a bear to take a photo, while she was safely in the driver's set on the other side of the car. She says she had her finger on the button for the power window and would have driven away with the bear's paw attached to my face if she had to, and I believe her. That's what cousins do. Anyway, after the bear magically appeared, I would pronounce periodically upon our journey that Brad Pitt was about to appear - but he sadly did not. My powers of magical manifestation could not tear him away from the Jolie, it seems.

The first town of any note on the Hope-Princeton (and I use the term "note" loosely) is Hedley, home to this fabulous establishment that sells "Unusual Gifts for Exceptional People." Being exceptional people ourselves, Sal and I thought we should stop in, particularly given that, as their sign below proudly proclaims, they were selling "Stone Wine Goblets, T-Shirts, and Red Hats." Everybody needs a Red Hat, don't they? Alas, Unusual Gifts for Exceptional People was closed, and we tore out of the gravel parking lot and continued on our merry way.


We arrived in Osoyoos at Spirit Ridge after about a 7 hour drive - that included our stop at Hope, our lunch stop in beautiful (ahem) Princeton where we ate the picnic lunch my cousin (and Sal's sister) Bob had lovingly packed for us (individual boxes of Cracker Jacks! Little pots of yogurt with spoons! Love that woman), while sitting on a bench by the Chevron (see? I told you it was scenic). It was sunny and warm, and we were delighted with our king suite, which had one big bedroom, a pull-out couch, two fireplaces, a full kitchen, a patio with barbecue, and a tub-for-two (more on that later). Sal was also particularly delighted with the "thin" mirror in the lobby (it's true, it was a thin mirror - you know what I'm talking about, ladies).

We picked up some groceries and wine in town and made it back to the suite in time to watch the hockey game. OK, Sal watched the hockey game, I stretched out on the bed for a sleep. Then we headed off to the outdoor pool in our bathrobes, where we frolicked like kids on the water slide and sweated it out in the steam room.

On Saturday morning I woke up with my cousin jumping on my bed around 8:30. We headed into town to see Osoyoos' Market on Main, which was really disappointing. Magnetic jewellery, some knitting, and not much else. However, we were not disappointed with the Osoyoos Home Hardware.

The other night at the Neal's Yard Dairy tasting at Salt, I met Mark and Andrea Busse of Foodists, who instructed me that I must go to the Home Hardware Store. I had inquired as to why, but they both shook their heads knowingly and told me simply that I. must. go. And really, it was an amazing place. Wall-to-wall kitsch, over three floors. Sporting goods, kitchenware, you name it, they had it. Sal and I wandered all over the store, agog.

Above: Sally entering the decorative-garden-stake area.
Below: the windchime section.


We checked in mid-morning for our spa treatments at the Sonora Desert Spa. Sal and I both did the "Love Your Lavender" package, a 3 (in our case 4) hour treatment including a manicure, pedicure and Lavender Body Treatment. I had never had a body treatment and was slightly appalled when I was told I had to get completely starkers. However, Sal and I liked the technicians working with us and soon all four of us were giggling away as they did our pedicures. I was particularly pleased when my girl told me I "didn't seem like a lawyer" and that I should be in entertainment - this despite playing the straight man all day to my extremely funny cousin. Sal invited her technician to join "her staff" and I think the technician would have been glad to do so. They even brought us homemade brownies from the staff room while we were waiting for our body treatments! We loved those girls.

In case you were wondering, a "Body Treatment" basically means, "Get naked while someone puts lotion on you." Sal and I agreed to have our treatments in the same room, as long as the lights were low (I don't need no cousin seein' me naked). I had a new technician for this treatment, although Sal's girl was the same.

At some point during the treatment I heard Sal's girl ask her if she wanted her stomach exfoliated, as it was part of the "full body treatment." Sal said yes, so when my girl asked the same question, I said sure. I was a bit taken aback when that included exfoliating and lotioning my boobies, but I went with it, trying to be nonchalant. Must be part of the full body treatment, I thought. Sal and I dissolved into fits of giggles later when she told me that her girl had kept a towel over her breasts - there had been no inappropriate touching for her.

Anyway, I managed to recover from being molested at the spa to make it over to Nk'Mip Cellars for our two hour tasting session. Two other girls on their own road trip joined us for the tour, which was led by the fabulous Shannon. Poor Shannon had to put up with our impatience (just me and Sal, the other girls behaved) while she explained the origins of Nk'mip and the various stages of wine making, as we hopped from foot to foot. We didn't really care how it was made, we just wanted to taste it.

Me inside the barrel room, an hour into our tour. No wine yet.

The seated tasting, when we got there, was worth the wait. We had various shapes and sizes of Reidel crystal glasses in front of us, and Shannon talked us through eight wines, which were paired with food. We were given our own notebooks to write down our thoughts, and presented with our own Reidel Bordeaux glasses, wine charms, cloth wine bags, and bottle openers to keep. The more wine we drank, the more chatty we got with the other girls, one of whom was a Deputy Sheriff, the other a teacher, and the tasting ended up being a real highlight of the trip.

After just a bit too much wine, we stumbled back to our suite, where I made dinner, as discussed here:


After dinner, it was time to try out our "Tub-For-Two" on the balcony. We had stocked up on lavender bubble bath, and we were ready for this new outdoor tubbing experience. It took approximately 40 minutes to fill up the thing:

Sally and her red wine.

Me and my white wine.

We giggled (notice a theme yet?) for quite some time, helped along by our 18th glass of wine each, no doubt, and splashed around in the tub. My cousin would helpfully invite people walking by the building to our "Bubble Tubby." It was so funny that somehow I managed, drunk and in a bubble bath, to transcribe one such exchange on my iPhone:

Sal (leaning out of tub and over balcony railing): I'm in a bubble tubby!

Onlooker looks up.

Sal: Yep! It's just meeeee and the bubbles. (Beat) And my cousin. (Beat) But we're wearing bathers. Because that's weird. We're not into that. We've already thought about that.

Dani snorts and swallows lavender bubbles.

Sal: Anyway, I have a boyfriend. And (gesturing at Dani) she's REEEEAAAAALLLY looking! Are you single?

Somehow between the bubble tubby and the wine drinking, we both ended up in bed by 10:30. I can't imagine why.

And Sunday marked the end of our little road trip. It was pouring rain as we left Osoyoos, but we managed to catch a rainbow as we left Oliver. We took the Coquihalla home, stopping in Merritt for coffee (both of us questioning, Why is Merritt?), and looking out for the old Shakespearean station names as we mirrored the route of the old Kettle Valley Railway. Home by 2, and back to reality, and to our respective kitty-cats, Currie and Murphy.

So here are a few facts about our trip:

- Passed 21 cops
- Passed 4 roadkill, including a snake (ewwww)
- Saw 1 bear, 1 deer
- Drank three bottles of wine (only!) and about eight additional glasses at the tasting
- Went down the waterslide at Spirit Ridge 15 times
- Q101.1 FM (Merritt's Music Mix) has the best province-wide coverage, as well as Praise FM), as well as the most eclectic (or spastic) song selection: country followed by R & B followed by Top 40 followed by Easy Listening
- Visited Tim Hortons twice (only!)
- Paid 123.9 for gas in Abbotsford, 134.9 for gas in Penticton

I can't wait to do another road trip with my cousin. Until next time, Sal-my-Gal!

Meals in Minutes 6: Hotel Edition! Mustard Chicken, Potatoes Dauphinoise

Recipe: Mustard Chicken, Quick Dauphinoise, Greens, Black Forest Affogato (Jamie Oliver's Meals in Minutes, p. 96)

This weekend my cousin Sal and I took a road trip to the Okanagan to enjoy the items I had won in a Facebook contest last year: a stay at Spirit Ridge Resort and Spa and a full-meal-deal tasting at Nk'mip Cellars (more on our trip later). I offered to cook dinner on the Saturday night, as our "King Suite" at the Resort had a fully equipped kitchen. I simply packed up my herbs and seasonings in a cooler bag before we hit the road.

We both really liked this recipe, and it was easy enough for me to cook in a hotel kitchen with the most basic equipment. We decided to forgo the dessert in favour of room service chocolate lava cake and creme brulee. Instead of greens I steamed brussels sprouts and made a green salad. The chicken and potatoes were very rich - this is probably more a dish for fall and winter than spring or summer. That being said - I had leftover potatoes so I'm making it again tonight. Yum.

Time: Well, this shouldn't count. We did a two hour seated wine tasting at Nk'mip before I started cooking - we tasted 8 wines, and I'd probably had about 3 full glasses of wine, which is more than enough for me. Even so, it only took about 50 minutes. And it earns the "even a drunk person could cook it" badge of approval.

Meals in Minutes 5: Sausage Pasta, Herbed Salad, Frangipani Tarts

Recipe: Jools' Pregnant Pasta, Endive Salad, and Frangipani Tarts (Jamie Oliver's Meals in Minutes, p. 30)

I can't help it, I'm a total pasta addict. I try to have it only once every couple of weeks, but really, I could eat it every day. Sigh. Anyways, this one is a doozy. The sauce is made up of sausage meat whizzed together with celery and carrots, and then cooked in fresh, diced tomatoes, and it's lovely. The recipe called for fennel, which I didn't have - and fresh fennel is super-expensive right now - but I did have some beautiful Herbes de Provence from the Edible Garden, and they contained fennel, so I used that instead and it still tasted great.

Instead of the endive salad I used up some mixed baby greens I had in my fridge, with some fresh herbs, olive oil, balsamic vinegar, and lemon.

The tarts were really easy to make, with the exception of the almond meal - you know, the frangipane in Frangipani Tarts. I had to make my own, which I did by whizzing up whole almonds in the food processor. Normally you would use almonds without their skins, which I didn't have - I had a Costco sized bag of raw almonds, so I guess my tarts turned out a little "rustic" in terms of texture, but still tasty lil' treats!

Time: 55 minutes, from thought to table. Extra time needed to make almond meal and figure out the fennel solution.

Meals in Minutes 4: Homemade Tomato Soup, Crunchy Croutons, and Fresh Veggies with Guacamole

Recipe: Tomato Soup, Chunky Croutons, Crunchy Veggies & Guacamole, Sticky Prune Sponge Dessert (Jamie Oliver's Meals in Minutes, p.76)

I omitted the dessert as I had plenty of fresh fruit and sweet things in my fridge and pantry - so I'm having fresh strawberries with peanut butter chocolate ice cream instead.

This one is very easy. Throw some tomatoes on a baking sheet with olive oil, garlic, and red chilies, throw it in the oven, on a different baking sheet make the croutons, using ciabatta bread chunks. When the tomatoes are slightly roasted, you whizz them up in the blender with some roasted onions and balsamic vinegar, garnish with sour cream and basil, and voila. Rustic tomato soup. I was a little liberal with the chilies and so my soup is a wee bit on the spicy side, which I don't mind.

This is a good light meal for when you're not really hungry but know you should eat something now, rather than snacking later.

Time: 45 minutes from thought to table, although I was considerably slower than usual today as I was yakking on the phone to my friend Kate throughout.

Meals in Minutes 3: Tray Baked Chicken

Recipe: Tray-Baked Chicken, Squashed Potatoes, Creamed Spinach, and Strawberry Slushie (Jamie Oliver's Meals in Minutes, p. 102).

This one involved a little improvisation with what I had in my kitchen. I had some fresh spinach and strawberries to use up, and chicken in the freezer. Jamie's recipe called for potatoes, which I didn't have, so I substituted brown rice. Also, the chicken was to be baked with cherry tomatoes, but I had some great vine tomatoes. I used ready-cooked bacon with the chicken breasts instead of fresh bacon. The dinner didn't seem to suffer for the variations. The slushie was the easiest - strawberries blended with ice, lemon juice and mint. I added a little Splenda for sweetness.

The creamed spinach was delicious, but I don't know that recipes calling for cream and Parmesan cheese should really be making it into my daily repetoire - a little too decadent.

Just as I was sitting down to dinner my cousins called me on my iPad using FaceTime, and so I "ate" dinner with my family. Ah, the miracles of technology.

Time: 38 minutes, from thought to table.

I added a little dessert - red velvet cupcakes I made this afternoon with Duncan. After dinner I took one across the street to my friend Lisa, and we had tea and a good chat. Perfect end to the meal.

The Lawyer Show 2011

Yesterday was Closing Night for the Lawyer Show 2011, "A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum," a fundraiser for Carousel and Touchstone Theatres. It was an interesting experience, having my law world and my performing world collide, but in the end it was a blast. Here is me and my "twin", Lisa Jean Helps. We played very sparkly, spangly courtesans called "The Geminae":

Can you tell which one of us is which? My dad couldn't. We walked by a poster on Granville Island yesterday and he goes, "Oh look, it's you!" "Uh, no Dad. That's Lisa..."