These, um, asteroids aren't to my liking, but they were easy and I can see how it would be a good kitchen project for kids.
La Dolce Vegan Challenge: Stephanie's Asteroids
La Dolce Vegan Challenge: Soba Noodle Miso Soup
It pains me to say this, as my dad - well, he loves soup. A lot. And I've had vigorous arguments with various friends over my distaste for the liquid meal. Also? Not a fan of miso. So, as you can imagine I was delighted to find out that Thursday's recipe was Soba Noodle Miso Soup (p. 103) with gomashio garnish (p.305). However, this challenge is about trying new things, so I went boldly onward to Nesters', the grocery store downstairs from my apartment to pick up the ingredients I needed.
Now, living right downtown in a relatively new neighbourhood always makes it challenging from an everyday shopping perspective. I have my pick of bars, tattoo shops, and hot restaurants, but sometimes when you just want to buy, you know, toothpaste. It's getting better, at least we have a grocery store (we didn't for the first few months I lived in Woodwards) and Nesters' tries to stock a diverse range of products. Sometimes, however, they let you down. And Thursday was one of those days. Yes, they had nori, no they didn't have soba noodles. Yes, they had miso, but no, they didn't have bok choy.
I know we're not supposed to make substitutions, but look. This week was nuts, and it was soup, for crying out loud. I was not going to trounce around downtown Vancouver looking for soba noodles and bok choy. So I decided to substitute for the rice stick noodles that I had leftover from a previous nights' entry, the Asian Noodle Salad, and used some leftover organic cabbage that I had in my fridge instead of bok choy. I was sure this was going to turn out horribly wrong:
It don't look half bad, eh? And guess what? It was actually delicious! Seriously! The gomashio was amazing (who knew toasted sesame seeds, salt and nori tasted so good?), and added a nuttiness to the soup that I loved. The cabbage was crunchy, there was enough noodle to give me something to gnaw on - it's a winner! Soup 1, Dani 0.
La Dolce Vegan Challenge: Cumin Spiced Brown Rice
I'm glad tonight's recipe was an easy one, Cumin Spiced Brown Rice (p. 190), because I've had a doozy of a day. Work to do, meetings to attend, rehearsal, and I taped an interview with Dotto Tech about some current copyright lawsuits in the news. When I finally walked in the door, it was 8:30 and the last thing I felt like doing was cooking. But, here I am - challenge complete for the day. I threw a zucchini and some carrots from my weekly veggie box in a frying pan along with some Bragg's 24-spice mix while the rice was cooking, reheated some refried beans, and that's dinner. Oh, and there are fresh blackberries for dessert. Beats take-away by a mile.
La Dolce Vegan Challenge: Karen's Mexican Burrito Pie.
OK, Burrito anything is always a win with me, and Karen's Mexico Burrito Pie (p.157) was no exception. Easy to make - mush some avocado with some faux sour cream, mush some beans with salsa, layer with tortillas and soy cheese - and unfortunately even easier to eat. I'll definitely make this one again. I might reduce the amount of pickled japalenos though - the recipe called for two tablespoons, chopped, and that means a vera vera spicy pie!
Pie. Salsa. Eat. Try not to repeat.
My tortillas didn't quite fit my pie pan, so you got a glimpse of delicious piiiiie filling around the edges.
Pie. Salsa. Eat. Try not to repeat.10 Years Later.
It's hard to believe that 10 years have passed since September 11, 2001. Hardly a day goes by still where you don't hear some mention of "9/11" - it has become such a pivotal moment in our political and cultural history. But the word "history" is somehow inaccurate - the wound still feels fresh.
I remember exactly how and when I found out. I awoke alone, in my new apartment on Vancouver Street in Victoria, to CBC Radio, as always. It was 7:00 a.m. The sun was streaming in the bedroom window. As I yawned and stretched, I heard Cecilia Walters say gravely, "The United States is under attack." I was confused, and looked at my alarm clock to see what time it was - this was supposed to be the news, wasn't it, not some dramatic re-enactment? All too quickly I realized it was the news, and shot out of bed, looking for somewhere, anywhere to go, to hide. I suddenly felt like I was under attack, that Victoria could be next, that nowhere was safe. Inexplicably, I immediately felt like I was being watched, that an unknown enemy was somehow tracking my every move, and I couldn't shake that feeling for some time.
I called my parents at home, and they told me they had just watched the second tower fall live on television. I don't remember much of the conversation after that. I remember getting dressed slowly. I unpacked a new pair of tights, and thought, "People couldn't get these in wartime. I'm going to know what it feels like to live through a war now."
I had to head to UVic, where I was in my first week of my first year of law school. I didn't want to go, but I didn't know what else to do. I remember listening to CBC on my old AM/FM Walkman, walking to the bus at the corner of Fort and Cook, getting on wordlessly, and riding in a daze to campus, wondering if another attack would happen at any minute. Maybe it would be here. Who knew? In the Students' Lounge, I found a group of students huddled around a radio they had taken from Maria, who ran the sandwich shop. I joined the throng and we sat there, silent - the pontificating at which law students excel came much later.
When class convened a few minutes later, our professor, Hamar Foster, had the good sense not to try to teach. I can't remember what he said to us that day, but I remember that it was wise, and reassuring, and it made me feel better.
Later that afternoon I went home to my parents' house. I didn't want to be alone, and I wanted to see the television coverage. Later that night I wished I hadn't seen it - the truth was more horrific than I had even imagined, listening to the radio - and the networks played the footage of the towers collapsing over and over again. It somehow became meaningless and obscene all at the same time. Nevertheless, I remember lying on the carpet in front of the family room TV for hours that night, transfixed.
And what happened on September 12, 2001? I can't remember a thing.
La Dolce Vegan Challenge: Chocolate Espresso Cake with Chocolate Glaze
So, I have to admit, I have yet to make a cake from one of Sarah Kramer's books that has turned out well. Muffins? You betcha. Breads? Oh man, the banana bread from How It All Vegan is the best ever. But cakes? Yeah, they've never really turned out for me. This Espresso Cake (p.247) with Chocolate Glaze (p.260) looks pretty, but it was a bit of a dud, I gotta say. I couldn't taste the espresso in the cake at all, the cake was heavy in texture, and the glaze tasted more like margarine than chocolate. Fail. Since I'm gonna have to do every recipe in the book, hopefully I'll find a cake I can successfully make...but this one wasn't it.
Unglazed prettiness.
Melty glaze.
Purdy sprinkles.
La Dolce Vegan Challenge: Noodle Salad with Spicy Nut Dressing
Ugh. My seasonal allergies are at their absolute worst right now, and today I took a new allergy medicine that I did not react well to - I ended up sleeping most of the day (including the 6.7 earthquake that hit the area), and it was not a good sleep, one of those tortured sleeps where you dream you can't wake up. I feel awful now. Anyways, I had to drag my butt out of bed to make today's recipe, Noodle Salad with Spicy Nut Dressing (p. 81). I didn't have the sui choy, fresh cilantro or rice noodles that were called for on hand, so I went downstairs to my local grocery store. NO sui choy - no surprise there - so I used organic cabbage instead. Also, weirdly, NO fresh cilantro. When I inquired, the produce guy said with amazement that there had been a run on cilantro earlier in the day. I guess there's maybe more people doing this challenge than we thought?
La Dolce Vegan Challenge: Baby Spinach & Apple Salad
Tonight I started rehearsals for my new show, "A Funny Thing Happened On The Way to the Forum," (yes I'm doing it again) and I had a panicky feeling all day about how I was going to balance work, rehearsals and this challenge. However, today all the stars aligned to make it as easy as possible on me.
The recipe for today was Baby Spinach & Apple Salad with Sweet Red Wine Vinaigrette (p.77). As it happened, today my weekly delivery of organic vegetables from Green Earth Organics arrived. And guess what? There was a bag of baby spinach in the bin! And gala apples! And, since I'm a nerd, I always have toasted pine nuts on hand. So, all I had to do was reach into my pantry, pull out my raisins, vinegars and oils, put together the dressing, and voila. It was dinner time.
Thank you, challenge gods, thank you.
OK, time now for Big Brother!
I am not an eco-tourist.
On my recent trip to Mexico, Kate, Theo and I decided we wanted to visit some Mayan ruins. Near the Maya Riviera there are three sites: Chichenitza, the iconic pyramid named one of the seven wonders of the world; Tulum, the old Mayan seaport; and Koba, which features many different ruins, including a pyramid that can still be climbed by tourists. Based on advice we had been given, we chose to see Koba. Cathy bowed out, having been there before, and opted to spend the day at our resort on the beach with her book. Us three remaining amigos opted to do a trip called "Koba Mayan Encounter," which featured a tour of the ruins, lunch in a Mayan village, and an afternoon splashing in cinotes (underground freshwater caves), ziplining and kayaking.
A few days before our excursion we had visited the town of Playa del Carmen and, um, Wal-Mart, where I had picked up watershoes and a rashguard for our snorkeling adventures at Xel-Ha, which had been more like Disneyland than an ecological preserve, with beautiful paved paths and hammocks and recliners spaced along the shoreline. I (wrongly, as you will see) assumed our Mayan Encounter would be along the same lines, an easy day of fun in the sun. I jokingly referred to my ensemble of rashie, watershoes and bikini as my "Adventure Dani" uniform and insisted that the gang also refer to me as such.
Our day started at 7:15 a.m. Kate, Theo and I had just enough time to shove a quick breakfast down our throats before racing for the van that picked us up. Our guide's name was Carlos, although he inexplicably referred to himself as Charlie quite a lot, as if our poor North American tongues couldn't pronounce Carlos. There were two Canadian girls already in the van, and we made our way along the highway to pick up tourists at other resorts. Then, inexplicably, Carlos took us to his house. He explained that he had backpacks to give to the students at the Mayan village's new school, but also picked up his girlfriend (of, we're guessing, around 4 days), a Polish girl who I'm still not convinced knew (a) who Carlos was; (b) where she was; or (c) who we were. He also brought his dog to show us and asked if she could come along on the trip. All of the van's occupants were in favour with the exception of an American woman who pronounced herself "anti-animal" and asked that he take the dog away. Anti-animal? What does that even mean? My only consolation was that when we eventually arrived at the Mayan village, the almost feral village dogs flocked to her and wouldn't leave her alone. I would have rather had the dog than the Polish girlfriend.
Anyway, by 8 am we were on the road, and instead of letting us tired, tired tourists sleep, Carlos insisted on playing loud Mexican trance music for the two hour trip to Koba, occasionally pumping his fist and asking us if we were ready for fun. I fell asleep very quickly, fortunately, and awoke only as we arrived at Koba. The parking lot in front of the site was crammed with tourist shacks. We parked in front of one that had a sign proudly proclaiming that its banos featured toilet seats. That was my first sign that I wasn't in all-inclusive Kansas anymore.
Our tour joined up with another tour from the same company for the walk around Koba. The tourguide gave us a very extensive history of the old Mayan city as we stood, alternately sweating in the sun, or being eaten alive by bugs in the shade of the jungle. Midway through her spiel about a certain site, a young man, either Canadian or American, but definitely a citizen of Doucheville, wearing Vibram five finger shoes, interrupted her rudely to say impatiently, "Yes, but what is this for? Can I climb on it?" Charming.
By the time the tourguide had finished her explanations, in both Spanish and English, we had only 40 minutes to walk the 2 kilometers to the largest pyramid, climb it (Mayan stairclimber!), climb down, and walk the 2 kilometers back. You could opt to rent a bike, or take a "Mayan limousine" (where a poor Mayan fellow pushes you on a tuktuk up the dirt path), but the three amigos, also being cheap amigos, decided to hoof it through the jungle. When we got to the pyramid I realized that if I climbed up, my fear of heights would leave me stuck at the top like some kind of modern Mayan sacrifice, to be eventually eaten by vultures, so I opted to watch while Kate and Theo motored to the top, and then turned to walk back through the jungle at a more leisurely pace. My peaceful stroll was interrupted by a woman from the other tour who motored by on a bike and asked me "if this was the way to the pyramid you can climb on." She was with her daughter and I assumed she was talking to her, not me, so I didn't respond. The woman circled back around to glare at me and say "Thanks for answering, bitch." At that point I christened her "She-Douche."
Around noon, our bus headed out of Koba to bump along a dirt track road to the Mayan village. We assumed that we would be served our "authentic Mayan lunch" when we reached the village, a collection of huts, each featuring a huge satellite dish. Instead, Carlos led us into the jungle, where we hiked through mud and across rocks for about forty minutes, to reach the cinote.
"I didn't know there would be hiking," I grumbled as my watershoes slipped and slid on the rocks and mud. I couldn't grab a tree for balance as Carlos had told us that many of them would be poisonous, or containing poisoning snakes, and to keep our hands to ourselves. Great.
When we finally reached the cinote we were greeted by a Mayan shaman who asked us to hold hands as he performed a Mayan blessing. I couldn't concentrate as I had sweat running into my eyes and couldn't wipe my face because I was holding Theo and Carlos' hands and wished Mr. Shaman would get to the point already as he blessed us, each of our countries, and a bunch of other things I didn't catch.
1:30 pm: Time for the cinote. I buckled a rappelling harness around my waist but found the leg holes were too wee for my legs. One of the Mayan men helping us looked at me, looked at his colleague, and instructed him to fetch the "mucho grande" harness. Great. Adventure Dani was reduced, or rather enlarged, to "Mucho Grande." Eventually I was buckled into my elephant harness and we approached the opening to the cinote, which had short ladders on each side. I peered down into the cave, which appeared to be about 10 feet underground, and thought, "That's nice that they're so safety conscious that they want us to rappel instead of using ladders. I feel better about this now." Kate and Theo went down before me, kissing for the "Mayan paparazzi" accompanying us on our trip, and then I positioned myself to head down into the cave to join them. On the last rung of the ladder I tentatively pushed off, hanging in space, and immediately began spinning.
"Oh no," Carlos laughed. "You're like a human pinata." A Mucho Grande human pinata, I thought grimly, and I began releasing my rope quickly to descend into the cave. As I lowered myself, I looked down at Kate and Theo, and realized how far away they were. This wasn't a 10 foot rappel - this was more like 100 feet. As I realized how high up I was and how far I had to slide on my rope, I began shrieking, awakening the bats in the cinote which began circling around me as I descended.
Finally I reached the water and a guide lowered me into an innertube, unhooked my carabiner, and pushed me off into the cool water. The inside of the cinote was cool, filled with fresh water and teeming with fish. For the first time since we had left the resort I cooled off, and splashed happily in the water, until I looked up at the opening to the cinote and thought, "How the hell am I going to get out of here?"
The answer was, much the same as how I got in. I was attached to the rope and jerkily hauled to the surface, shrieking the whole way. My only consolation was that some people chickened out completely and wouldn't even go down into the cave. Mucho Grande conquered her fears.
By the time we all got out of the cinote it was around 2, and 7 hours since we'd eaten. We were all dehydrated and starving, and hoped lunch was next on the agenda, but no, we were off hiking through the jungle in our harnesses to the zipline, which was strung over a crocodile pond. I'm not kidding. There were crocs in that there water. We could see them.
I had never ziplined before. I was so tired, hot and hungry at this point that I just wanted it over with and marched to the front of the line boldly. I lost my courage as Carlos clicked me onto the line.
"Are you sure?" I asked him, meaning, "Are you sure those two little pieces of metal will hold me on this tiny line and that I won't fall to my death in the crocodile pit?"
"I'm sure," said Carlos. So off I went, walking off the cliff and zipping over the pond. It was really quite fun, I thought to myself halfway across, until I looked at where I was going and worried how I would stop without running into the tree at the end of the track. So my shrieks of excitement turned to terror and I closed my eyes for the last half, sure I was about to meet my death by tree-collision. Somehow I stopped, however, and I was relieved to take off my Mucho Grande harness and watch Kate and Theo zip across (Kate yelled "Hoooolllaa Senoorrrrrr" at the crocodile as she passed).
Finally? Is it lunchtime? Yes, it is, says Carlos, and off we marched again through the jungle, with Carlos gallantly leading his Polish lady-love by the hand and the rest of us trailing along behind.
2:30 p.m. Lunchtime? Non non non amigos. Carlos may have said lunchtime, but he meant, "time to canoe." So Theo, Kate and I reluctantly climbed into a canoe, and pushed off. At this point I felt like I was in bootcamp, what with all the marching and activity and lack of nourishment. The only redeeming part of our canoe trip was the three of us singing "The Log Driver's Waltz" and "La Bamba" in three-part harmony, which not one person in another canoe batted an eyelash at. Carlos stood in a canoe and paddled his "girlfriend" around like he was a gondolier in Venice.
3:00 p.m. Yes. Lunchtime. After being forced to take group photos on the dock for the Mayan paparazzi. Lunch was a buffet-style meal served in a thatch hut and it was delicious. No, really. Except for the bugs and stuff, lunch was delightful, with homemade tortillas, black beans and empanadas, and hibiscus tea. We ate ravenously as if we'd been starved for days.
Then it was time for us to present the backpacks Carlos had brought to the village kids, which seemed a little staged - it made me uncomfortable, although I can't tell you why - it just felt like developing world voyeurism or something, benevolently handing out backpacks to these children who had nothing as if we had bought and paid for them, which we definitely had not. What made me even more uncomfortable was She-Douche grandly giving her daughter one peso coins to hand out to the "poor" children who were her daughter's own age, while her daughter clutched an ice cream that none of the Mayan kids were even allowed near. At this point I was ready to go.
And go we did, after we were marched through the gift shop to look at the pictures the Mayan paparazzi had taken (US$15 a pop), and forced to drink tequila toasts to our marvellous day. I was hot, sweaty, muddy, and exhausted and ready to head back to my hammock on the beach. Instead I got a two hour drive back in the van, with Carlos playing Mexican metal music, and a field trip to a gas station in Playa del Carmen where for some reason we all had to exit the van ("it's the law that no tourists can be in a car while it's being gassed up" - huh?). I wandered into the cool of the air-conditioned convenience store but had to make a run for it when I saw the van start to pull away. No way was I being left behind in an Oxxo station.
Adventure Dani and her trusty companions arrived back at the resort about 13 hours after their ordeal had begun, where Cathy was waiting in the lobby. I hugged her, saying pitifully, "hold me," and she marched me back to our suite so I could shower before dinner, laughing as I told her how muddy and bug-ridden my day had been.
Moral of the story? Adventure Dani only likes adventures without mud, tarantulas (oh yeah, did I mention those?), and Mucho Grande harnesses, and where food, toilets with seats and water are all readily available.
La Dolce Vegan Challenge: Almost Caught Up
Portobello Pot Pie and All-Purpose Vegan Crust
I've never been a big fan of savoury pies, despite my love of all other pie-related deliciousness (right, Acme Cafe?). I've blogged about making pies here before, and also about my dad's imperious pie-condescension. He thinks he makes the meanest crust around, using my Nana Elaine's recipe, and it's very good, it's true; however he doesn't appreciate it when other people (i.e., me) try to usurp the crown as family Pie Lord. But - a challenge is a challenge and so I set to work.
The vegan pie crust has to be made in advance and chilled for at least an hour. This recipe used a food processor which definitely cut down on the time spent cutting the margarine into the flour. However, it didn't get very "doughy" - it remained kind of globby and sticky, but I wrapped it up in plastic, threw it in the fridge, and hoped for the best. In the meantime, I peeled and chopped the mushrooms, onions, potatoes, celery and carrots that went into the pie filling. The flavouring was really simple - thyme, sage, and tamari, for which I substituted Bragg's Liquid Aminos. The filling was very very easy and quick to make, the sauce thickened up easily, and soon it was time to see how well this pie crust was going to roll out.
The answer is, not at all. Despite flouring up my cutting board and my rolling pin, the dough was still sticky and batter-like despite chilling for a good few hours in the fridge. I added a little flour, to no end, and ended up having to take globs of dough, stretch them by hand, and laying them patchwork-style on top of the pie filling. It got the job done, but it looked horrible, and my dreams of beautifully forked edges and a cute little leaf cut out on top were dashed. However, it still looked like a pie and I threw it in the oven for the 25 minutes required.
At the 25 minute mark, the dough still felt, well, doughy, and hadn't browned at all, and so I baked the thing for another 10 minutes. The dough baked up well enough but still didn't brown, but I decided to take it out anyway as I didn't want to risk burning the pie filling.
It looks awful, but it held together well and didn't taste half-bad.
Despite the awful looking top, the pie was delicious. The crust was just short enough - flaky but not tough - and the simple flavours of the pie didn't overpower the taste of the vegetables. I loved it! Gotta work on that crust though - I wouldn't serve tonight's pie to company, it looked like Frankenpie.
An offering to our guru.
Blueberry Dilip
Blueberry Dilip is described in the book as "not quite a crumble, not quite a crisp." I'd describe it more as an upside-down cake, as the batter goes in first, followed by the blueberries. I love blueberries but have some amazing looking blackberries in my fridge that I was dying to substitute - but I didn't (sigh), in the name of the challenge. Next time, Dilip, next time.
This was so, so, SO easy to make. I think it took 10 minutes, tops, although it had to bake for almost an hour. The recipe called for 4 cups of blueberries, and I used almost 5 (in order to use up the remaining berries I had), and the recipe didn't seem to hurt for it.
Berrytastic.
The Dilip was Dilip-icious. The berries had a delightful gingery taste (which was blended with the berries and sugar before being placed on top of the batter) - not too much, just a hint, which worked well with the blueberry flavour. The batter part was cakey and moist, and I enjoyed it more than a crumble topping. I will definitely be making this one again...with blackberries. Mwahahahaa...
La Dolce Vegan Blog Challenge: Catching Up
I'm back from my amazing trip to Mexico with Cathy, Kate and Theo (more on that later). Today was spent catching up on work and catching up on cooking. Before I left, I agreed to participate in a challenge being sponsored by the Vegan Culinary Institute, where several bloggers will cook their way through Sarah Kramer's La Dolce Vegan cookbook. We were given a set of recipes to follow for the next (gulp) nine months. I came home to find that I was six (!) recipes behind the rest of the bloggers, according to the Institute's itinerary, and so today I got to work. I'm not completely caught up, but I did manage to get through four of the six I missed. Sorry some of the photos are messed up; my iPhone appears to have contracted a case of Montezuma's Revenge while in Mexico.
Gerry's Artichoke Heart and Basil Pasta (p. 132)
This recipe was so easy and pretty fool-proof, and especially quick since I'm nerdy and have things like pre-toasted pine nuts on hand. It's hard to go wrong with the combo of fresh tomatoes and basil, although I think next time I would double the tomato (it only called for one fresh tomato, chopped), or I might choose to go with my absolute favourite, cherry tomatoes. I used the rice pasta I had on hand, and this meal was divine, and more than enough for two servings (hooray leftovers).
Nom nom nom - love fresh basil so much.
No-Salt Shaker (p. 303)
I'm a huge fan of Bragg's Organic Sprinkle as an alternative to salt - it contains 24 herbs and spices - so I'm not sure how this relatively simple herb mix is going to compare (I haven't used it yet). I did feel smug as I spooned the spices into the Mason Jar I'm using to store the mix, as I had every single spice called for in the recipe...except celery seed. Gah. I knew I was going to have to trot downstairs to Nester's at some point during today's cook-a-palooza. I mean, I even had dry mustard. Who just has dry mustard hanging around in their pantry, I ask you? Me, that's who.
Just a touch of this and a dash o' that.
Wolffie's Banana Blueberry Muffins (p. 274)
Any excuse to use fresh local blueberries is OK by me. This recipe asks you to blend the "wet" ingredients (banana, molasses, vanilla) in a food processor, which was fine - except for some reason my banana would. not. blend. I sat there pulsing that damn food processor for way longer than what I would deem necessary. I also found that the ratio of wet to dry ingredients seemed a bit off - I felt like I had to mix and mix and mix to saturate all the dry ingredients, which is a big no-no with muffins, which should be "just mixed." However, they seem to have come out alright and the kitchen smelled absolutely delightful while they were baking - molasses are great for that. I'm looking forward to eating one of these for breakfast tomorrow.
Tiny photo, ginormous muffins.
Estrellasoap.com Peanut Butter Fudge Mounds (p. 208)
Ohhhh, man. These lil' puppies are dangerous - sugar, cocoa, margarine, peanut butter, oats. Hot damn. I am a huge fan of Reese's - well, anything, and these yummy treats give you just enough of that taste of peanut butter and chocolate. After forming them you have to refrigerate them for at least an hour - I did two, and still found they were a little moist and sticky when I went to transfer them to a tin container (to be stored in the fridge). But hey, lookit, I ain't complainin' - I ate two already.
Oh yes I did.
Notes from the Neighbourhood.
My friend Brandy and I went to see a movie tonight at Tinseltown. Afterwards, I walked her to her bus at Pender and Abbott, and then turned for home. As I waited at the crosswalk for the light to change, an old neighbourhood veteran in a shabby suit, with a glass eye (no lie) and unkempt beard, carrying two liquor store bags, walked up and stood beside me.
"Have you had a good day?" he asked me cordially, as we waited.
"I did have a good day," I replied. "Did you?"
"Well, I didn't get to sleep until 4 am last night," he said.
"Me either," I exclaimed. "I didn't fall asleep until 5!"
"Well, at least it didn't rain today. It was supposed to rain, you know." I nodded.
The old man shuffled a little closer, and whispered conspiratorially, "And look at what I got today," pulling a CIBC Visa card out of his pocket.
"Well, be careful with that," I said. "Make sure you don't max it out. You have to pay that all back."
"I already did max it out," he said, holding up his liquor bags. "Canadian Tire, they gave me one too. $2000 limit. I maxed it out in a day." He showed me the liquor in his bags - several bottles of expensive scotch, and Hennessy. A lot of it.
"I prefer Remy Martin," he said grandly, rattling off some rare vintage. "But that costs over $2000 a bottle. I go through a bottle every day. Now, let me take you to McDonalds' and buy you whatever you want. I've got plastic."
I declined politely, and he shrugged and walked me the rest of the way home, nattering to me about all his credit cards, how he spent all the money on them, how it was "his" money to spend, and he didn't care that collection agencies were after him. I didn't quite know how to respond. I simply listened, and when we got to my door, he gave me a hug.
"You take care now," I said. It was all I could think of to say.
"You have a good night," he replied, and walked away into the night, his bottles clinking.