Peach Pie

I'm failing terribly at this one line a day thing. I'm going to ditch it because I have a bad short-term memory so when it comes to writing a new post, I've already forgotten the awesome line I was going to write and it doesn't turn out that interesting. That's my excuse.

Mom gave me half a dozen peaches to bring home with me last weekend and they started to go bad. Fast. Just a little patch of mold here and there, nothing very appetizing, yet not worth wasting the entire fruit either. I was actually a little excited about the fuzzy stuff that isn't the ordinary peach fuzz. Why? Because I finally had an excuse to bake peach pie!!! And to use a wine bottle as a rolling pin (#feeling like a classy adult)!! Ever since I saw a board advertising it at Wanda's I've been craving peach pie. I actually don't even remember ever having it but I immediately sensed that I would love it at first bite. And I did. Oh I really did.

Demonstrating a lot of self-restraint

Smitten Kitchen is always so damn reliable. 

Sushi Island with the York Gals means admiring the half Japanese, half Chinese decorations topped with  valentine heart garlands, a Christmas stocking, mini santa claus, and Easter eggs.

Served at a cafe near St. Lawrence market last winter

For the first time, I finished an entire bag of coffee grinds all to myself #feeling like an adult

Studio 54

"You lined up for Studio 54. I lined up for Studio 54... the movie."
While watching Sex in the City I thought, well, there goes another pop culture reference I don't get. Funny enough, while browsing through an post titled Preserved Moments of Historical Sass, Diana Ross (in a dance pose that eerily resembles Bryanne's) showed up in the very last photo at the very bottom of the page with a caption that reads "captured at Studio 54". Now I'm intrigued. It turns out it was a crazy night club in NYC back in the 70s. There's a good collection of photos here that make it hard to believe it ever truly existed. I'd line up to watch Studio 54... the documentary.

I went on a site visit today and while waiting for the planner and ecologist to do their thing, I spotted something I was hoping would be a butternut. 

My thoughts are jumping from Zen Pencils to The Secret Life of Walter Mitty but it might only be because I'm dreading writing a dreadful "Field Experience Report."

I have Kensington Market Pedestrian Sundays on my mind: Chocosol tortillas and chocolate cookies; live music here, there, and everywhere; fire juggler, whip handler, and contortionist; beer and friends on a patio.  

One Line a Day

I was out with Diana last week grabbing a Magnum ice cream bar (à la Julie: vanilla dipped in dark chocolate topped with chopped hazelnuts, toffee bits, culinary rose petals, maple fudge, neon green french macaron, held together with white chocolate drizzle). We ended up lingering in a few bookshops: a little French one and a huge Indigo. The "One Line a Day" caught my eye, because it's a simple way to keep a journal minus the time consuming intimidation factor. I couldn't justify shelling out $20+ on it though when I could easily write one line a day on any notebook. Or finally break my blogging rut and post at least one line a day. Challenge accepted!