Pregnancy perfection

Seriously though...I thought I'd be blogging everyday about the trials and tribulations of being pregnant, but so far all there is to say is "thank you". Thank you because I'm grateful with how wonderful my pregnancy has been and continues to be. Needless to say I haven't blogged much at all.

I have no real discomfort, a little back pain every now and then, but I suffered with chronic back pain for years and this is really nothing. I've had no gastro issues, I may have felt a little off and cake never sat well in my first trimester, but morning sickness isn't part of my vocabulary. Neither has any horrendous indigestion hit in this my second trimester.

It's been an overly hot summer, plus we went to the Dominican Repulic for a week so my fingers have been a little swollen occasionally, but I am still wearing my rings, I make sure to drink extra water on those days. And other than some anxiety about all of the myths surrounding pregnancy, after my initial "avoid everything" stance, I am following the rule of moderation and not allowing myself to stress about every little thing.

All of our tests have been good. The baby's heartbeat is healthy and strong and it is developing perfectly. My Rh negative blood type isn't even worrying me as it isn't even considered a complication.

I am thoroughly enjoying being pregnant. Yes, I allow my husband to do a lot for me, but to me that's a benefit of growing a person.

I've been feeling kicks now for about 3 weeks, although muted with my front lying placenta, and I love every little flip flop and wiggle. I look forward to more signs of life and personality from inside. Ian has also felt a few that can be felt both inside and out which is awesome to get to share with him this early on.

I am proud of the little bump I am sporting and although I joke about being "fat" I do know that this bump and the associated weight gain is all a part of this beautiful process.

Mostly I am very aware that not all pregnancies are as easy as mine, although they are all beautiful. I am grateful that I am able to enjoy and flourish in this pregnancy and feel so full of the love and happiness of growing this little person who we won't meet for another couple of months, while also feeling wonderful and healthy.

I know that when this child is born our lives will change, but only for the better. Our love will continue to grow for this tiny little being as they become what they are meant to be as we guide them through life.

I am very excited for the next steps, but I am loving every minute of this process and I am trying to enjoy and remember every minute of these wonderful days :)

New Year's Resolution 201/

Resolutions 2011

1. Happy thing a day - blog
- blog every day about something happy that has happened that day, post both a Facebook and a Twitter link

2. Rehearse min. 3 days a week
- outside of voice lessons, practice vocal music at least 3 times a week. Reminder - 10,000 hours

3. Tracking & hit goal weight by Victoria Day weekend (139.5 lbs)
- learn new Weight Watchers plan and work on losing weight by proper tracking and measuring, goal date for Victoria Day weekend.

4. Yoga - 2 times a week minimum
-do yoga, preferably in the morning at least twice a week

5. If I can't say something nice, find something nice to say
- instead of talking badly of others work on looking at the positive of those around me and voice those positives outloud.

6. Charity
- research a way and give back to the community by volunteering time.


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Location:Orchard Park Blvd,Toronto,Canada

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Inner Mean Girl Cleanse - The Gossip - GG (Gabby Gabby)

This past week I started doing this http://www.daretoliveyou.com/mean-girl-cleanse/ It's a 40 Day Inner Mean Girl Cleanse. I've been spending a lot of time following a couple of fabulous women on Twitter and their websites and blogs. Through them I discovered this 40 Day program and was very excited.

Yesterday I finally had a chance to listen to the Launch Call from earlier in the week and got a LOT of great stuff to work with and work on. I had a great journaling moment between myself and what I recognized as one of my IMGs (Inner Mean Girls). Her name is Apologizing Excusing Ingrid. I might blog about her and my experience journaling with her later. It's pretty personal and I'm not sure if I'm willing to share it just yet.

This week's focus is Giving up Gossip and focus on Good Talk. I thought EASY-PEASY! I have been speaking the affirmation "Today I speak only from my heart. I leave gossip and toxic words behind. I truly speak only from my heart." every morning and sometimes throughout the day. I was feeling very positive about this.

In listening to the call I've learned about how to deal with my IMGs through the three As, Awareness, Attention and Allowing. When I met IMG Ingrid yesterday I flew through all three As right away and was really able to deal with her immediately. She's an IMG that I've been aware of for awhile (I just didn't know who she was or how to deal with her before). We opened the conversation and I feel very good about where we left off.

However, my gossip...Gabby Gabby (GG for short)...I have only become aware of her, and am I EVER aware of her. I didn't realize how much talking GG wants to do...ALL the time. I think the problem is that I added "and think" after speak to the affirmation. Adding the "and think" has made me realize it's not just GG I'm dealing with and is why I'm not able to follow through with the other 2 As at the moment. Because I've managed to self-sabotage. In my awareness of GG I also met Judging Julie (JJ) and realized that she is a VERY power IMG. I judge ALL the time. I'm an IMG gossip even when no one is around. In discovering both these IMGs I feel horrible about how judging/gossipy I am.

I have a feeling that this is just that awareness has put a magnifying glass on, again, something I was loosely aware I was doing, but didn't realize to what an extent.

It was easy on the first day of the cleanse, because I wasn't out and about...it's easy not to gossip when you don't have cable and there's no one around with whom to gossip. But back at work, especially after a whole summer...there was a little, but it wasn't too difficult. However, while out socially last night, not even with my own peer group, but with my mother and her friends, I was right in there, with two feet. It's like being mired in thick black tar. At first I didn't even realize it, and then by the time I was right in it I supposed that's what I was doing. However, a couple of glasses of wine, and I justified it...well, it's not MY friends I'm talking about.

So now that I'm definitely in a place of awareness, I'm going to take out the "and think"...that's adding too much for me to actually deal with the initial problem...and that's just being part of the verbal communication of gossip. I think by minimizing it to just words (instead of my inner chatter as well) I will be able to deal with it a little easier. I can work on the inner stuff at a later time when I'm in a better place with GG. Because GG is just one girl...Judging Julie (JJ)...she gives GG lots to work with (not that GG needs any help).

Giving my IMGs names and faces (you should see my drawing of Ingrid) is really helping me to identify them and work with them.

If you're looking for a new Self-Work project...I highly recommend signing up and starting this 40 day Inner Mean Girl cleanse. It's pretty interesting and amazing stuff. :)

http://www.daretoliveyou.com/mean-girl-cleanse/

Blackberry Jam

OH DEAR!

What a kerfuful!

So I've had these blackberries in the freezer, taking up precious freezer space for a couple of weeks now. Since the beginning I have had every intention that I would make Poppa's blackberry jam.

So, over the past couple of weeks I'd done some "Sarah Research"...meaning, I've loosely done nothing and figured it would be an easy process and I could just wing it. I emailed my aunt and spoke to my Mum to see if either them had Poppa's recipe. Nope, my aunt hates kitchen/cooking work, and Mum has never been a jam maker. Both suggested Poppa's old beat up copy of Better Homes Cookbook, the big old red one, with the duct tape down the side.

I finally got Poppa's cookbook and flipped through it, but no blackberry jam information was listed. Both my Mum and my aunt then just figured he used the recipe on the pectin pack.

So this past weekend, while I was out at Wal-mart looking for a juice jug, I walked passed their canning section. It occured to me, that with my husband out of town this week, it would be the perfect time to get to making some jam, so I'd better grab some supplies. They had all kinds of stuff, but I didn't want to worry about all of that, so I just grabbed "what I would need". A box of 12 250mL jars (the no-name brand), 12 jar labels, and pectin. Not sure which pectin to buy, I bought both the regular crystals and the sugar-free crystals. Poppa probably didn't make sugar-free, but I'm a Weight Watchers girl, so sugar-free would probably be the better option. I glanced at the quantities on the pack.

Regular Certo - 2 cups crushed strawberries (no problem)
No sugar need Bernardin - 4 cups crushed fruit (again no problem)

I had like 8 cups of blackberries...perfect. I grabbed one of each, and I'd make a batch of each...right? RIGHT! (soooooo not right)

I had originally scheduled Wednesday for jam making, but Tuesday after coming home from the gym, I figured I'd start the process. I'd figured out along the way that I would have to sterilize the jars. No problem. I have a pot that I can lie them down in to boil.

So I start sterilizing 6 jam jars,, for one batch, 3 jars at a time in my not so huge pot. I put them out on the counter to dry off, facing down...don't want any germs to get in my nicely sterilized jars now.

And THIS is where I started having problems. I started reading the different recipes on the packages...more closely...those quantities were for NO-COOK jam. That's NOT what I wanted. So as I looked closer I realized I would need WAY more berries and WAY more sugar. No problem, I'd just make one batch, instead of two.

I read a little bit more and realized that it would definitely be a small batch, because it didn't occur to me ahead of time that CRUSHED berries would be less quantity (higher density) than what I had frozen...and FROZEN...gotta get them out and start thawing them. What I didn't realize at 10am was there was no rush...I was going to be figuring this out for the next 3 hours!

Upon reading a little further online about how to sterilize the jam jars, I noticed the term water-bath being used...but not for the sterilization, but for the jam AFTER it was made and in the jars...what? And recommendations for a canner bath which is a huge pot with a can rack, and then special canning tongs, and a canning funnel...and *GACK*. I'm not running out now to get all that. So...why...? Why do all these sites recommend this 10 minutes boiling (longer if you're above sea level) for already boiled and jarred jam?

Because I could kill people with my jam if bacteria gets in...WHAT?!?!? Well...now I can't make the jam. I need these tools, I can't afford to invest in something that I'm not even sure if I'll use it again. I go over the instructions on the Certo package again, because I don't ever remember seeing anything about boiling AFTER you're done, or killing people with bacteria. That's where I find a phone number for help at ANY point in your jam making. So I call.

I ask the nice lady who answers what to do after Step 5 (the instructions end at Step 5) Cover with lids and screw rings on tightly. She informs me of the "inverstion method". I ask her what this entails. She explains that after you've sealed the jars, you turn them upside down, leave them for five minutes and then turn them back right side up. WHAT?!?!? That's it? That saves me tons of money in equipment and tons of boiling and all sorts of other work and stress? Yup. AND this is what you at Certo and Kraft recommend? Yup. AND...I'm not going to give anyone botulism?!?!? Nope. Huh? Okay.

After I get off the phone I got into a bit of a panic and I call my Mum. What did Poppa do? (Poppa would have done it the "right" way, and I've never gotten sick from his jam or canned goods). Mum doesn't really remember. Well there was boiling water. But yeah, for sterilizing the jars...but did he boil them with the jam in them? She doesn't remember. Oh the questions I wish I'd asked him! She suggests I contact Auntie Fran (not my actual aunt)...as she makes jam all the time. But she's not home today. Again...guess I'm waiting until tomorrow.

So, now I'm also very confused how does turning a jar upside down, for 5 minutes, save you from making a person very, very ill, compared with boiling for 10 minutes. I Twitter, I Facebook, I Google. I send Auntie Fran an message on Facebook, in case it's faster for her to reply this way. In my now"Panicked-Sarah-Research" I start to realize that hard core old school jammers are fear-mongering alarmists. You MUST boil the jam. Desease, pestillence, horror. However, the "inverters" are more laid back, some of them never thought of doing it differently, it's what their mothers and grandmothers did before them.

Hmmmmmmmm? Do I dare? Do I dare turn a jar over and hope I don't make my friends and family ill from my delicious Poppa-jam?

The phone rings...I recognize that number...it's Auntie Fran...YAY! In my still excited/panicked energy I try to sum up the past couple of hours to her. And she laughs. She says she doesn't even turn them over. She sterilizes them, of course, keeps them hot, keeps the lids almost boiling, fills the hot jars with the hot jam and seals the hot lids and has never had a problem.

Well...that seals it for me. If Auntie Fran, who has been jamming for years can use this method, so can I. YAY...I'm back on the jam plan! I'm a little worried about how to keep my jars warm before I fill them, since I only have one big pot. But a good friend on Facebook, who has already talked me down once in my jam adventure, suggests covering them in the sink with boiling water. They've already been sterilized and once you start making the jam, the water won't cool that fast. BRILLIANT!

So, the berries are defrosted and I start crushing them. That's when I realize I do not have enough berries for ANY of the recipes. As I'm working with blackberries and none of the recipes even LISTS blackberries I'm looking at the raspberry recipes. I'm about a cup of crushed berries short...that's like...2 cups at least of regular berries...Nooooooo! There are no more berries on the bushes I'm sure. I stopped picking at least a week ago, if not more. I don't even know where to find more blackberrries...and I'm not going to pervert my jam by mixing in the horrible giant store bought things. Yuck!

I go back online and start Googling again...I find that Certa has a liquid pecting recipe that calls for less berries...YES! There's a home hardware behind my house. They have EVERYTHING. I'll just pop over there. I hop in the car and rush in...looking everywhere. The manager asks what I'm looking for. They have pectin, but they don't have the liquid Certa. Noooooo...Do you think the Metro across the street would have it? Instead of answering, he calls over to the customer with whom he was speaking before me. "Mary...do you have liquid Certa?". Yup, she says. Mary is the owner of the Berry Farm down the road. SHUT UP! Talk about good luck. Well then I'll just pop on over there.

I realize the Metro is closer, like right there, I could just go right in, and check first. But no. I see this as a message, it's luck, more than coincidence right? So I hop in the car and drive 5 minutes further up the road to the berry farm. Yup, they've got the pectin I need...YAY...but NOPE...they don't take interac and I never carry cash. Well then WHY did the coincidence occur? *sigh* And I drive all the way back to the Metro, hoping beyond hope that they have the liquid stuff.

It occurs to me at this point that maybe this jam just isn't worth it. Seriously, this is a LOT more work than I thought it would be. But I pop into the Metro, and sure enough they have a box. Better pick up more sugar while I'm here...because you never know (first intelligent decision I've made on the spot all day). I rip open the package in the car to make SURE it's the right recipe and that I don't need anything else that I don't have.

I hurry back home, and now I'm READY! I get the pot and kettle boiling and I've got the jars in the sink. But wait. I only sterilized 6 because the other recipes said they'd yield 6 cups. This recipe yields 8! So while the water is boiling on the stove I sterilize another 3 jars. No worries. I add these to the sink and start covering with boiling water. Two pots and two kettles of boiled water later and my jars are hot, sterilized, and ready to be filled. I also put a smaller pot on the stove with the lids and screw caps and turn it up to almost boiling so they'll be ready to top my jam.

Now onto the jam!

Certo Liquid Pectin Recipe for Raspberry Jam
Ingredients
3 3/4 cups crushed berries
1/4 cup lemon juice
6 1/2 cups granulated sugar
1 pouch CERTO Liquid Pectin
Directions
1. In large saucepan stir together prepared fruit, sugar & lemon juice if listed in recipe.
2. Bring to a boil over high heat.
3. Boil hard 1 min.
4. Remove from heat. Stir in CERTO Liquid Pectin
5. Stir and skim for 5 min. to prevent floating fruit (for marmalade stir 7 min.) Pour into warm sterilized jars to 1/4 inch from rim. Cover with lids and screw rings on tightly.
(and then just turn them upside down...but this is not actually written anywhere...hmmmm...so I can't sue?)

I am blessed because I have exactly...no more no less than...3 3/4 cups of crushed berries. I'm also happy because I was originally just shy of 7 1/2 cups of sugar. But I've got the extra sugar now too. So I start the process. And this is soooooooo easy. OMG...if I'd known how easy this was I'd have been more prepared earlier. (yes, I realize the ideocy of this statement...but I did actually think it)

I get to the end of 5 minutes of stirring and skimming...and...it's like I have a bowl of blackberry soup. There's no gelling happening, no thickening, no nothing. Liquid berries. Auntie Fran had mentioned that sometimes you need to add more sugar...but...I've already taken it off the heat. What do I do now?!?!?

I call Auntie Fran back...a little panicky after my feeling of success. And stressing that my "hot jars" in the sink are now getting cooler...OMG...I'm going to make people sick if I don't figure this out! And I can't waste my only blackberries...I can't wait another whole year to figure this out. Fran suggests following the directions at the bottom of the CERTO instructions for "Remaking Cooked Jam" which basically consists of adding more sugar and boiling again. So...back I go. This is also where I start to remember Poppa saying something about having a bad batch of blackberry jam that wouldn't set, it was too runny, not enough sugar. This where my decision to pick up an extra bag of sugar has been my best and most brilliant idea yet. Things could have gone quite awry now if I'd had to run out and buy more sugar! Alrighty...here I go.

So I add another full cup of sugar and boil for another minute then I do the stir and skim off the heat for 5 more minutes...still nothing, so I go back again one more time. This time is "seems" a little thicker...doesn't it? It's definitely bubbling differently. I've got tiny little jam burn marks all over my fingers where the jam has splurted out of the pot. Like when I make chili and it thickens and ruins the top of the stove and counter with all the splurting...yup, it MUST be thicker! Well, that's it, I can't keep doing this, I'll have caramel or hard candy on my hands if I keep this up. Let's just hope it will set in the jars...right.

I get an over mitt, tongs, a big spoon, two tea towels, and clean damp cloth and a clean skinny spatula. I use the tongs to grab the jars out of the water, the oven mitt to hold it, the big spoon to delicately fill the hot jar with hot jam (yes, I can see how a wide mouthed funnel would be handy at this point), I go around the inside of the jar with the spactula to remove any air bubbles (something I read somewhere, not sure if it's actually necessary, it's probably for the botulism again), I wipe the top clean with the damp cloth, I take the tongs again to grab the lid and place it on top, and the screw cap and place it on top. With one of the tea towels and the over mitt I tighten the lid as tight as I can, and place it upside down on top of the other tea towel. I then repeat this another 7 times! As soon as I'm done I turn on the timer for 5 minutes. I start turning the first one back over before the 5 minutes is up, because it's been upside down for a good 10 or 15 minutes now with all of the jarring I did since filling it.

And sure enough, shortly thereafter...the first jam jar top "pops"...which means, it's sealed.

Sooooooo...the jam in the jars is still on the counter, all the lids have "popped", and the jam tastes yummy. I sampled it off my fingers while filling the jars. I'm going to go back again and retighten, as the lids and jars have cooled and I want to keep a good tight seal.

So although "stricting jamming regulation" (seriously, tons of quoting of regulation and rules about this stuff) does not adivse the "inversion method", CERTO, Kraft, Auntie Fran, and tons of other laid back jammers don't seem to mind in the least.

I'm just excited to try it and hope that it has set to some sort of "jamminess", and not just liquid berries. However, if it does not work properly...I'm going to chalk it up to a batch of ice cream topper...I'll even investigate mixing it with vodka or some other liquid to make it a boozy topping. ;) But I'll make sure to do better "Sarah Research" before trying anything else new.

Poppa's Blackberries - Black-Raspberries for those of you who only know the big ones

(yes, I realize I haven't posted in FOREVER)

When I was growing up I spent some time every summer at my Nannie & Poppa's house just West of St. Catherines in Louth Township, Lincoln County . Nannie and Poppa had blackberry bushes in the backyard, and there were always tons of bushes around the area as well. We would pick blackberries with Poppa every summer. In the backyard, along the orchard across the street, and along 13th Street Louth as well. Poppa would always make blackberry jam and it was always my favourite. I don't mind strawberry jam, but other jams are just of no interest to me. I have never picked blackberries anywhere else and I have have never had blackberry jam from anyone else, nor have I even seen it anywhere.

Over the past few summers, even before Poppa passed away, I have tried to find blackberries. No...not those big bulging monstrosities that you can find everywhere...little ones...they look like raspberries...only they're black, seedier and sweeter. I have never found them anywhere, at any grocery store or any farmers market. The few times someone has heard of them it's past their 2 week window, or they guy has already left the market for the day, and there on. I keep referring to them as black-raspberries so that folks don't get confused...but to me...they're just blackberries. A friend from out West knew what I was talking about when I mentioned them.

This summer, while out walking in the public park near our home, I found some. A couple of large beautiful blackerry bushes, with tons of berries growing. So for three weeks, I'd force my husband to go for a walk with me. Luckily we were house sitting my Mum's dog, Storm...it gave me an excuse to make us go out, otherwise, he'd wait around, bored, while playing on his iPod, while I got right in there, bitten by mosquitos, scratched by the berry bushes, the thistles and the ever greens, and every day I'd pick about a cup worth of berries if I was lucky. Then I'd get home, throw them in a ziplock bag and toss them in the freezer, in the hopes of someday making Poppa's Jam.

These berry picking moments were wonderful. It was like Poppa was talking to me...telling me that this is exactly where I'm supposed to be in my life right now. Just like back at his place, with the cicadas buzzing, the morning doves cooing and the juicy blackberries ready to be picked. I could hear his voice in all of those sounds and it felt like home.

SilverSpoon - Platinum Experience!

http://www.silverspoon.ca/

I made a reservation at SilverSpoon for a Thursday night in November. It was my boyfriend's birthday and I wanted to take him out. When I made the reservation I mentionned that we were celebrating his birthday, but only in passing.

We showed up right on time and were greeted immediately upon entering the intimate restaurant. The decor was minimal but very comfortable. With high ceilings, a windowed front and a door that opened right into the restaurant, I was pleased to discover that it was comfortably warm and cozy. The smells coming from the kitchen already taunting my olfactory senses.

The service was spectacular, the waiter along with the kitchen staff catered to our every need. We were offered our choice of a number of tables and chose a table in the corner. The waiter took our coats and we were comfortably seated. It was not a very busy night, but there were only two staff serving tables and two in the kitchen. All the tables seemed to have received the same attention we did throughout the evening.

I never opt for the more expensive wines on a menu (if I want an expensive wine, I'll drink it at home, instead of paying inflated restaurant prices), and I was pleased that our choice was well received, and not met with derision. This is an unfortunate behaviour, to which I have been on the receiving end, of waiters and sommeliers, who frown, tsk, or make otherwise rude comments on wine choice, seeming to be based on price. If you don't like the wine, don't put it on your menu. Or if you have a better wine in the same price range, suggest it. But please do not attempt to change my decision simply because you disapprove of my more thrifty choice.

I had trouble choosing what I wanted from the fabulous menu options. Should I go with the lobster bisque or rainbow trout as my appetizer, wait...or maybe the venison carpacio. Then for my main I was torn between the agnalotti stuffed with sweet potato and the Lake Erie pickerel. When our waiter came to take our order I explained my dilemma and asked for his opinion and assistance. He suggested to start with the bisque and then the pickerel (our wine choice had been a Pinot Grigio).

We received some bread and a dish full spicy oil w/ vinegar. We enjoyed the soft fresh bread and our wine as we waited for the appetizers. Shortly thereafter the waiter brought over two tasting spoons with a melange of flavours to tickle our taste buds, a little amuse-bouche before our meal. All I remember is apples...it was sweet and savoury, a lovely refreshing little mouthful. Unexpected and well received.

Our appetizers arrived and we enjoyed every last bite. Ian had the shrimp and it was fabulous...every last bite on the plate was devoured (yes, I helped). I enjoyed every last rich drop of the bisque and sopped up the remains with the bread on the table. I could have eaten a whole meal of just those two appetizers. Ian's shrimp had come with some lemon gelato which we both enjoyed before our entrees were served.

Ian had ordered the cornish hen. It was served in a aromatic jus, full and dark in flavour. My Pickerel was served in a bamboo steamer with root vegetables. It was very light, and it felt like the healthy option. I have now realized that when dining out, I prefer the richer menu options. When our waiter came over to enquire if I was enjoying his choices, I explained this to him. Saying that although I was enjoying the pickerel, nothing being wrong with it, I realized that I prefer something more decadent. He smiled, explaining that he had chosen the richer appetizer but thought I might not want too heavy a meal. He also said he felt the pickerel was nicely complimented by the pinot grigio. I agreed, and was happy to have learned that I will always look to the sweeter, creamier, fuller menu options in the future.

I was not unhappy with the pickerel, more unhappy that I had missed out on the agnolotti, but confirmed to him that I would most definitely be back again in order to try the things I had missed this time. A couple of minutes later as we were finishing our meals, our waiter came back with a small dish. In that dish was one single agnolotti in the duck broth & truffle oil. I was very happy to get the opportunity to sample the dish. It was marvellous...I can't explain how "goooood" it was (to those of you who know me, it was two hands good). That taste alone will have me returning in order to enjoy the dish. It was sweet and rich, yet light and savoury. In that single taste, I think I discovered one of my new favourite meals.

When it came time to order dessert, upon reading the menu, there really was only one option. Warm Flourless Chocolate Cake. And. It. Was. Fabulous. The waiter came out a short while later with a single thin candle in the dessert, the plate decorated with the words Happy Birthday Ian around the edge. I had not mentioned it to anyone that evening, just having said something on the phone a week early when the reservation had been made. I was so happy...they had made me look GOOD! And the sweet was a wonderful, rich dark, warm, drippy, cakey chocolate. It was perfect.

To top it all off we each enjoyed a glass of a late harvest vidal, which tickled our tongues nicely as we sat there, completely sated and happy.

Over the past couple of months, I have received some of the worst service in my life, in restaurants in Toronto. The word service seemed to me to have lost it's meaning in the service industry. Many restaurants making me feel as though they're doing me a favour by letting me in the door. SilverSpoon went above and beyond. Yes, the food was fabulous, but food in Toronto IS fabulous, there are a million restaurants old and new where you can have a wonderful meal. However, SilverSpoon is a restaurant where you can ENJOY the food, because you're being treated like a guest, someone they are happy to have in their establishment. Not only were my gastronomical senses sated, I was completely relaxed and felt glorious after such a fabulous experience.

Thank you SilverSpoon, thank you for giving me hope in the service industry in Toronto. I will return!

Lee - NEVER again!

Harsh? I don't think so...

As I said Hurt me once, shame on you. Hurt me twice, shame on me.

I should have known better. I should never have gone back. But the food at Lee is sooooooooooo good. He has a way of tickling your tastebuds with the flavours he choses, with the wonderful gastro-creations. Everytime I have gone to Lee I have ordered the Singapore-style Slaw and everytime I have loved every last bite. It is really a fabulous dish. Even the fingerling potatoes which are potato peelings, deep fried. The sauce they are topped with is scrumtious and wonderfully creamy, they are lightly dusted with spice and are fun to eat. I love his food, I love eating tapas, because you get a large variety of flavours and food, but I cannot return. I will never get the chance to enjoy any of his marvellous dishes, because I will not put myself through the torture of the service his restaurant provides. Just because my mouth is happy, doesn't dispell the fact that eating at his restaurant makes me feel like a piece of sh*t.

SO...after the rude treatment from the hostess at my last visit I considered never returning. However, Mr. Lee's menu, being what it is...when our friends wanted to head out for dinner before an evening on the town one night...I still had to suggest Lee. I knew they had never been, they had just moved out of the neighbourhood, and had always wanted to try it, so I went against what I had considered and suggested it. They loved the idea, although my boyfriend and I prayed that the hostess we had encountered was no longer employed.

Now, I had learned my lesson with the previous visit. So about a week before, I called and left a voicemail. I left the same message as before, but THIS time I finished the message with, "Please call me back to confirm the reservation", leaving both my contact numbers like last time, and repeating my cell number at the end of the message.

Later that afternoon a pleasant (and from the sound of her voice I assume) young lady called me back. YAY, I thought in my head when she said where she was calling from. She was pleasant and very informative. They could not take my 6:30 reservation request, but were available at 5:45 or 6pm. She explained that they did two seatings and only booked for certain times. I said I would take the 6pm reservation. She mentioned that it would be a two hour reservation, as my table would be reserved to someone else for 8pm. I understand this practice in restaurants and assured her we would certainly be done by then, having to meet friends somewhere else at 7:30pm. I did mention off-hand that we might be a couple of minutes late...she then repeated again that our table was only available to us until 8pm. Okay, yeah, I got it. But, shook it off because I understand the stress of booking reservations, especially rotating ones like the appear to do at Lee. I thanked her, and said we'd see her next Friday.

So the Friday of our reservation arrives, and mid-day at the office I receive a phonecall. It's the restaurant, calling to confirm our reservation for 6pm that evening. YAY...I think, they've fixed whatever the problem was before. They are DEFINITELY on the ball. "Now remember...Your reservation is only..." she starts. "until Eight!", I say a little exasperated now. "I know, don't worry, we'll be out." I'm a little bit concerned about this harping on the only two hours and the eight o'clock reminders, but I know I'm just over-worried due to prior treatment at the hands of Lee staff.

Friday night arrives, the four of us get in a taxi and head over to Lee. We arrive at about 6:05. When we walk in the hostess has her back to us. The hostess station is set up like that. There is no where for the hostess to stand behind, so if she is on the phone or writing something down, her back is to you. Even if the service had been impeccable every time, I find this a little rude. I understand the difficulty with the set-up, but it's still not the most welcoming site to be greeted with someone's back.

After a couple of minutes of just standing there at the door, the hostess turns towards the two gentlemen in our group. I am exstatic to see that it is not the same hostess as before. Then she opens her mouth. "I'll be with you in one moment...gentlemen. I have some ladies to deal with...FIRST." She says this in a very dry unimpressed voice, as though they had rudely interupted her. NO...I must be just hearing this in my head, but I swear it was the same girl's voice as last time...just in a different body. I SWEAR. Then I figure I'm just making this up...I'm projecting this bad attitude onto this poor girl because I expect to receive it.

She then turns to my friend and I and smiles a nice fake smile with her nose slightly turned up. Yes...can I help you ladies?" There is something too sweet in her voice.

I look at her and point at the guys, "yup, we're with them." Okay, I'm not giving her a fair chance here. "Yes, we have a 6 o'clock reservation under Stewart". She looks in her book and then looks at her watch...Oh GAWD...NOOOOOOOOO...but oh, YES...she does.

"Well, now your reservation is only for two hours from 6 o'clock. And it's already 1o minutes after 6..." (yeah, but we've been waiting for you to turn around for the past five minutes...I think to myself in my head) "...you only have until 8 o'clock."

"Yes, I know" I answer stiffly, but trying to be calm about it...I know, I know, I know...it's like the 5th time I've been told! "No worries, we're sure to be done by then, no problem at all". Again, I'm starting to feel the same embarrassment that I felt the last time. D@MN! Why did I suggest we come here.

She shows us to our table and I start to apologize to my guests, explaining that the restaurant does a second seating of all of the tables and that they're pretty strict about how long a reservation is, and pretty much trying to make her behaviour okay. They look at me quizzicly, and we get seated.

I'm very excited because they have my favourite red wine on the menu Wildass Red. Then the waiter comes over.

"Has everyone been here before?" He asks quickly.

My friends half raise their hands, kind of playfully explaining that they have not.

The waiter then jumps full speed ahead into a speech delivered at the pace of someone working at a farming auction. He describes how the menu works, that it's tapas and that multiple dishes should be ordered for the whole table to share. He starts to go through different items on the menu, spewing product knowledge all over the place. Although it's a shame he's speaking so fast because it's a little difficult to follow him, and I've been there before and already know how it works. He finishes, not even seeming out of breath. And then much to my utter dismay, sticks two fingers from his right hand, into the gap between buttons on his dress shirt and SCRATCHES HIS STOMACH!!!! and then starts again. (no word of a lie, there were four of us that witnessed this event...and he was so non-chalant about it that at first his attitude about it made me realize how NORMAL he made it feel to me...which made the whole thing EVEN MORE DISTURBING!)

"Now I know you probably want to order drinks right away, but I suggest you look at the menu and figure out pretty quickly what you want to order. I mean your reservation is only..." NO NO NO NO NO NO!!!!! DON'T SAY IT! PLEASE!!!!! DON'T SAY IT!!!! "....until 8pm, and food can take a little while longer!" AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH "Also, I have a table of TEN people coming in shortly", he gestures to the table RIGHT beside us, "and I probaby won't have any time to talk to you again." WHAT?!?!?! "So you should probably concentrate on ordering your food, fast." (wow...McDonald's eat your heart out!)

Okay, I could finish this here. And really, this is where this story should end. I should have stood up, explained to the waiter that I was sorry we were wasting his time and told my guests we were leaving. But again, I just nodded in compliance.

"One second", I say, "we do know what we would like to drink."
"Yes?" he says.
"A bottle of your Wildass red. It's my favourite wine." I explain, trying to be a little personable, maybe he'll calm down a little.
"Oh, we've been really low on that, I don't even know if we have ANY." He says.
"Uhm, well, could you check. We'd like a bottle and if you don't have any...then we'll take your Chilean Cabernet Savingon". Now...I'm a BIG fan of Chilean Cabs...it's what I drink right now. I don't care about the cost (within reason), but the first two things I check on a menu are...do they have Wildass, and do they have a Chilean Cab. They had had both...there was no question. Now...the Wildass is a $40 bottle. Whereas the Chilean Cab $31.
He looks down his nose at me at the request of the CC "Oh", he says as though I just ordered a bottle of water from the toilet.
"YES", I said rather firmly, "if you can't bring me the Wildass, I'll take the Chilean Cabernet".

So he leaves...I feel shocked, but I'm still thinking...maybe it's me? Maybe, I just can't see the service properly because of my previous experience. Maybe I am ruining all of this in my own head for myself. It can't REALLY be going this badly. Can it?

Then my friend sitting next to me, who is a very calm and collected business professional, who I have seldom heard speak a negative word or swear, turns to me and says "Are you fucking kidding me?!?!".

And then we have at it, and the table lets loose. Nope, it is NOT just me. I am NOT making any of this up in my head. We start to explain to each other how shocked we are with the hostess, the waiter, the stomach scratch (!), and the repeating of the bloody 8pm kick our @sses out threat! (I jokingly laugh and say...yeah, we should sit here and eat ourselves sick until 8pm and when they ask us to leave, just walk out and not pay the bill...Op...8 o'clock...better go...next reservation).

I pipe up and say we should probably worry about this later. The food her really IS amazing, so let's figure out what we want to order before he gets back. So we scour the menu...they let me choose some really yummy items, and we're ready for him when he gets back.

And like the hostess from the summer who looked like she'd blessed us with the patio table, he is carrying a bottle of the Wildass red to the table. You'd have thought it was the Stanley Cup!

"The second last bottle in the place!" he says proudly, like he gave birth to it himself.
"That's great", I say, "since there's 4 of us, we'll probably drink two bottles. Could you put the LAST one aside for us too?" Then I think twice about that, "Actually...", I say in a humourous but dead serious voice, "why don't you open that last bottle for us now...and let it breathe". Ha ha...yes.

So...we order our food. Then we drink our fabulous wine and bitch about the service so far. The table of ten comes in and true to his word, we don't see him again, and a plethora of other wait staff deliver our different dishes. The food is wonderful. Better than ever. We eat dish after marvellous dish. I joke "it's almost worth the horrendous service"...and I question in my own head if it is anymore.

The our service comes over, just as we're finishing the last sips of our bottle of Wildass.

"Unfortunately," he starts...not really looking like it's unfortunate at all, "we can't seem to locate the other bottle of Wildass. We've even used flashlights to look for it". Of COURSE you can't, of course you did, I think to myself. But if I get up from this table and find it on another table, I will smash the bloody thing over your head!

Instead I say dryly, "Then we'll have the Chilean Cabernet, won't we?". And he disappears, no apology. We then wait 20 minutes, until I have to call another server over and ask them to bring me our wine.

There's not much more to write. The wines were wonderful, they always are. We ate every last bite of food, mopped up every last bit of sauce. Everything tastes so good and is so fabulous...but after the treatment we received, after the behaviour of the staff and the way we felt...I can never ever return to Lee.

I have never felt more like a piece of sh*t than when our waiter informed me that he would not be able to SPEAK to us once his table of 10 had arrived. I have never felt more like standing up and making a scene when the LAST bottle wasn't available, even though he made such a big deal about the SECOND LAST bottle. Why tell me about it if you can't deliver?

It's unfortunate, but if you ever want to taste Mr. Lee's fabulous creations, my suggestion is as follows. See if they'll do take-out, and have someone you don't like very much go and pick it up for you. Otherwise, you'll have to deal with someone that works there in person, and I would not inflict such an encounter on anyone other than my most disliked acquaintances.

http://www.susur.com/lee/index.html

My History with Lee

I first took my mother to Lee one Friday evening when she was in Toronto visiting me about 2 years ago. I had always wanted to try out the food. So on our walk home along King Street West, we stopped in for a bite to eat. Lee is a tapas restaurant so we ordered a couple of dishes between the two of us, which if I recall correctly were the fingerling potatoes, the Singapore Slaw (their signature item, including no less than 17 ingredients), a soup and something else. We were blown away, the food was amazing. Our tastebuds tingled from flavours, aromas and mixtures we had never had before. We fell in LOVE with Mr. Lee's creations. I don't recall what the service was like, which means it was probably fine. Unfortunately (or fortunately) it's only the extremes one seems to remember.

Since then I have had nothing but conceited, rude and downright insulting service from Lee.

It started this past Spring when I wanted to book a bite to eat for a bachelorette party I was organizing. The bride in question really likes the food at Lee, so I wanted to make a stop in there with the group for a bevvy and a bite. When I tried to book the reservation, explaining that it would be late and we wouldn't require a full meal, I was condescendingly informed that a credit card number MUST be left and if all the guests did not order a MINIMUM of three plates each, that the credit card would be charged for the difference. "WHAT?!?!?" Yes, there would be 10 of us. Yes we would be taking up space. No we weren't Neanderthals. We were a group of late 20's/early 30's women who would spend an adequate amount of money on food and liquor and wouldn't trash the joint or embarrass anyone. As a side note I have gone in with 4 people and not ordered 12 dishes for the whole table...maybe we should have been charged extra...god-forbid we take up the space and not eat enough. Even my mother and I only had 4 plates between the two of us...CALL THE POLICE! Needless to say we did not bring the bachelorette party to Lee.

Then this past Summer, my boyfriend and I decided to take his brother and his brother's girlfriend there for dinner. I called on Monday of that week, and reached their voicemail, which asked me to leave a message for a reservation with all of my details including contact information. I gave them my name, that I required a 7:30pm reservation on Saturday night for four people, then I left both my cell phone number and my work number. No, I never heard back from them. In retrospect maybe I should have called to confirm. But I didn't, I figured they would have called if they couldn't take me. So Saturday night at 7:30 the 4 of us show up. I walk up to the hostess who looks at me questioningly, and in a snotty voice says "Yessss? Can I...help...you?"
"Yes, I have a 7:30 reservation for 4", I reply.
She looks at me again, like I'm a moron, "I...don't take reservations for 7:30."
Pause...she continues to look at me, like she hopes I'll go away.
"Well, I called and made a reservation for 7:30", I say again, feeling rather embarrassed in front of our out of town guests.
"Who did you speak with?", she asks.
I realize then that I had only left a message and never received any confirmation. "I left a voicemail", I said.
"Well, did anyone call you back?". Again, I understand that I SHOULD have called to confirm (apparently), but the tone of voice she was using, like she had been blessed by the Hostess-Gods to rule over her door post, was starting to grate on my nerves.
"No, I left both my work and cell numbers and no one called me to tell me that my reservation was NOT available, so I assumed you were too busy to confirm, and came at the time I left on the voicemail."
She is now looking more and more unimpressed with me, like I am not qualified in the art of reservation making. And because of that, I am not WORTHY to eat at the restaurant she is guarding. And then she just STANDS there, looking at me, like she is hoping I will just walk away.
I am no longer embarrased in front of my guests...I am pissed off. Especially since looking around the restaurant half the tables are empty.
I look back at her after obviously giving the half empty restaurant a once over and ask, "We were hoping to have dinner with our reservation. Can you seat us?".
She glances down at what I assume is her seating chart/reservation list which you would think by the way she is holding it, that it is written in gold.
"Yes...we have a spot available on the patio", as though she fought a battle to score us such a lucky opporutnity.
"Thanks", you can tell that I don't mean it.

After that fiasco with the hostess, the rest of the service proved to be mostly uneventful, and as usual the food was fabulous. Our guests loved every bite, but the lack of hospitality at the door was a conversation piece for the remainder of the evening and passed on to others in the days afterwards.

I admit my fault, I should have followed up. I should have figured since I hadn't heard anything that maybe something was awry. And I feel foolish for assuming that if they couldn't take my reservation that they would have called me to either find a better time or let me know that they were booked, so that I wouldn't expect to be able to show up that night.

This is just my history with Lee, the best is yet to come. Hurt me once, shame on you. Hurt me twice shame on me.

Restaurant Reviewer - Who I am

I never thought I'd be using my blog to review restaurants, but here we are. Over the past couple of months in the city of Toronto I have had some of the WORST service in my life, from all levels of restaurants. However that being said, today I am hoping that maybe things have turned around, and service is picking up. Twice now this week I have actually thanked my servers for not only being decent human beings, but for providing a service, which at the end of the day is why I am going to restaurants.

I have decided to blog about this so that maybe my experiences can make a difference. Whether it makes a difference in where you decide to eat tonight? Or maybe even with the restaurants themselves, if they actually give a sh*t that I am a paying customer who likes to spend money on food and service or that I talk to other paying customers who also like to spend money on food and service.

To start out, a little background information about me is only fair. I could simply be a raving lunatic looking for a forum. Who knows, maybe if you met me you WOULD think that...but I thought I would provide you with the following information, so that you can decide (if you've never actually met me) if you would actually care about what I have to say about dining. So, here are my qualifications as to why I think I should be allowed to review restaurants.

First - I LOVE food...adore FOOD...I can't explain how much I like to eat. Ask anyone who knows me. I HEART food. Good food, fast food, delicately flavoured foods, wafting aromas of food...garlic, salty, smooth, creamy, meaty, crunchy, sweet, textured, EVERYTHING...yummy yummy food. Note: I am not a huge SPICY fan, I don't mind a little spice, if it's backbone is FLAVOUR, but hot for the sake of burning your face off? No thanks. That being said, I do eat curries, Indian food and Mexican foods. Also, I will pretty much try anything once, AND if made to look and or sound wonderful, am willing to try something AGAIN that I didn't enjoy before, like soft goat cheese. As a side note: I had never been a fan of Swiss cheese, but now I put it in my sandwhich for lunch.

Second - I have worked in the restaurant industry, and I understand and appreciate the hard work put in by wait staff in restaurants. I don't think I was perfect, but I believe I appreciated and understood the paying customer and cared about my job, so I tried to provide my customers with the best experience I could. So in turn I do expect a basic level of service when dining out, from the kitchen staff to the hostess.

Third - I am a paying customer and I pay well for such service. I have and will always pay 15% if I get what I consider to be a basic level of service. To the extent that I will not sit down in a restaurant if I know I don't have access to enough cash to eat AND to tip (credit/debit card, cash, whatever). No, I'm not a warden, here is what I consider to be worth my 15%:
- greet me, seat me, take my drink order, take my meal order
- bring me my drink, bring me my meal
- check on me at least once...just in case I need something/want to spend more money/whatever
- clear the table & bring me my bill (heck...if I'm in a rush, you don't even have to clear the table before I leave)
- do this all without making me wait for an eternity between each step of the way
- treat me with respect (note: and I will do the same)

I consider the above basic level of service part of the cost of eating in a restaurant over and above the printed costs on a menu. There are many people that do not realize that almost all wait staff (in North America) DO NOT make the regular minimum wage, that their salaries are LESS than the lowest paid minimum wage worker, as restaurant industry minimum wage is indeed LESS per hour.

Needless to say, if I receive service above my basic level of expectation I will also tip above the 15%. And in reverse I have been known to tip LESS for receiving a lesser dining experience due to a lack of service. Please also note: I know that it's not always the servers fault, that a kitchen can ruin a servers evening, and that a drafty window (non-service related issues) has nothing to do with their service. I take this all into consideration...as a customer, it's easy to tell by opening your eyes and looking around to see if a kitchen sucks or if your waiter is just making excuses for their incompetence.

One last point of note...I find it interesting that even when we, as a society in general, get bad service...we still tip...even if we tip less...we still pay for this bad service. So if we are not complaining and are still tipping, how will anyone know that way they are doing is in any way bad, wrong, or unacceptable?

So...enjoy...as I start my journey of restaurant reveiwer...bear with me...it's a new venture for me. (But boy have I accumulated a lot to say in the past couple of weeks!)