Let it be known

Let it be known that the scones at the Royal Botanical Gardens' Turner Pavilion Tea House are some of the best I've ever had. And scone-wise, I've been around, so that is saying something.

Let it also be known that some days maternity leave is sinfully delightful.

Tea for... Eight?

I hosted an afternoon tea today for my friend Jennie, who is getting married in July. It was the first time I'd ever made tea WITH sandwiches, which turned out not to be true at all as Stuart made all the sandwiches. They were delicious! We had smoked salmon, cucumber cream cheese, and cheddar and chutney. For sweets, we had banana cake, chocolate cupcakes and fresh fruit. And of course, scones with strawberry jam and devonshire cream. Tea options were hot and iced, and the whole thing was delicious. I am pleased, and grateful for a friend who lends the occasion of her wedding as an excuse to fulfill my own tea fixation. It was a very lovely afternoon.

New life!

This weekend was marvelous, and yes, mostly because this little picture was taken yesterday across the road from my house. Spring has seen fit to descend upon us early, and I am so grateful. This weekend's other delights just as splendid as the sunshine-- ice cream eaten outside, dinner at Dessert Trends Bistro, lots of time for knitting, getting chores done, Midsomer Murders on DVD, rainy Sundays, rainy Sunday scrabble (with the power out!), brunch with friends, an afternoon tea party (with jammy scones), lots of reading. Lots of book buying too-- we got the Free to Be... You and Me 35th Anniversary Edition (which came with a CD!) from Book City yesterday, ostensibly for the baby, but probably more for nostalgia (although the book is beautiful and looks totally up to date). Today's brunch was located conveniently across the street from This Ain't The Rosedale Library, and it just so happened I was in the market for The Elegance of the Hedgehog by Muriel Barbery (upon the recommendation of Patricia Storms). Now I must go for a bubble bath, and read Lauren Groff's new collection of short stories, Delicate Edible Birds. I am hoping to stay up past 9pm most nights this week, so I do foresee a bit more posting. But then again, you never can tell.

Madeleine's Cherry Pie and Ice Cream

Today's random ramble rather conveniently veered us towards Madeleine's Cherry Pie and Ice Cream, which I've many times passed on the route to somewhere and have long been meaning to make a destination. The shop's name a literary reference (not this one, but that one), and the space is an emporium of perfect delights. A tea shop, with a back garden (come spring), and pies, and ice cream. We had scones with jam, and a pot each of rooibos, and I really must go back again for more-- cupcakes, said madeleines, brownies, where to stop? The cakery was mesmerizing, and the shop shelves bursting with wonderful things-- teapots, jam jars, cups, mugs, and the like. (And how lucky are we to live in a neighbourhood with so many corners to discover?)

Delightful Things

This past weekend, because it was long, because it was summery weather, and because my sister-in-law was staying with us, we indulged in delightful things. Chocolate raspberry tarts at Dessert Trends, a sunny afternoon at Riverdale Farm, bbq indulgences (esp. corn on the cob and mmm that grilled peach blue cheese salad was good), a trip out of town to the Twenty Valley where we loaded up on gorgeous produce from a roadside stand, and then to Ward's Island yesterday, to wade in the warm (!) and gorgeous Lake Ontario and dinner at The Rectory Cafe. All in all a perfect way to kiss goodbye the summer, or perhaps more to give summer a whole lot of temptation to stay. Just a little bit longer?

We'd been discussing Rosie Little earlier this week, my sister-in-law and I, having both fallen in love with Danielle Wood's tales something fierce. And we were talking about the restaurant in Vancouver where Rosie has tea at the end of the book-- The Junction Tea Room? (Which I cannot verify, as my downstairs neighbour has borrowed my copy for a holiday to Japan). And how we wished the magical tea room was real, but a fruitless Google search suggested it wasn't. Alas. And then come Sunday afternoon in Jordan Ontario, we find the only parking space in down right out from of the Twenty Valley Tea House.

We had a brilliant afternoon tea there, sun pouring in through the windows. As at The Junction Tea Room, we got to select our own cups and saucers, mismatched and gorgeous. A hat racked mounted with chapeaus and feathers was there for our pleasure, should we choose to partake. Oh, the tea was delicious, the cakes and triangle sandwiches. Ok, there was no cream (no cream?!) but the scones were so moist and flavourful, none was really required. We ate in tiny bites, morsels, in that afternoon tea way that always has us come out stuffed. Afterwards, a browse in the gift shop, with tea goods for our pleasure. All in all, a superlative teaish experience. Even worthy of fiction...

Scream in High Park

Our trip last night to The Scream Literary Festival's "Scream in High Park" Mainstage was quite well-documented. Off we went, waving good-bye, with a picnic full of carbs in tow. Took the subway to High Park Station and then walked deep deep into the woods, and claimed some prime seating at the venue.

The menu consisted of pasta salad, Rosenblum bread, avocado scones, cheese, and sweet snacks ala Enright. But if you can believe it, such a delicious spread wasn't even the main event.

First up was the magnificent Mariko Tamaki, writer of Skim, which I've been lusting after for a while. (See Tamaki to the right). She opened her set with a poem comprising Facebook statuses of yore, read and excerpt from Skim, and then an essay about ephemerality that was well and truly lovely.

Another delight was seeing Claudia Dey read again from Stunt. As a reader she is as compelling as Tamaki, though in a different way, and I would have run right out and bought her book if I hadn't done so already.

I also loved Sonnet L'Abbé, Wayde Compton with Jason de Coutu, Ray Robertson and Motion. I would have loved even more too, except I had to work in the morning and so we left before the final set. And it was too dark by then to take a photo of us waving goodbye.

Such a magical evening, assembled there with friends and strangers. Inside a forest in the midst of this big city, a summer night that grew cool as the sun went down. Fireflies stealing the show, those luminous acrobats-- I could hardly keep my eyes off them.

And in terms of the human performers, I'm not sure who stole the show most, though the lineups at the booksale provided a very good indication...

Avocado Scones

Not content to have had the pleasure of two (2) raspberry scones on separate occasions yesterday, I was determined to bake a batch of scones tonight. But not just any, no. For weeks I've been wanting to bake avocado scones, sure that two of my most beloved foods couldn't help but have a wonderful marriage. Got the recipe here, and the results were extraordinary. The best scone I've ever had in my life, and let's just say, I've had a few. The avocado flavour was barely there, but everyone's favourite fatty fruit (but the good fat) had left its mark in a green tinge, and such unbelievable moistness. The perfect savoury accompaniment to my dinner tonight, which was a rice salad, with feta, roast red pepper, chickpeas and dill. And then for lunch tomorrow! There's so much to look forward to.

Dance dance dance

Stuart surprised me with a present today, and a tea accessory at that! A porcelain tea infuser, as seen on this rather fabulous tea blog. I also ate a raspberry white chocolate scone at work. Today the sun is shining, hinting spring, and Marian M. seems outdated again.

I just finished reading The Outcast by Sadie Jones, which presents a tonier 1950s British austerity than I'd ever before glimpsed. "If she had been a drawing, she would be drawn with a few lines, and strong ones", and all its characters seemed as such. And quietly cinematic.

And speaking of cinema, I watched Once on the weekend, particularly due to my friend KD's endorsement. It was truly extraordinary, and I don't think I've been so convinced by a film in a long time. Any writer could learn loads by understanding the dynamics in that love story, a story where plot seemed secondary to human nature. If that makes any sense. And it's been on my mind for days and days since, running through my head and not just its music. I think I had forgotten the possibility of fundamental goodness in a film.

Do note that my favourite song right now is "I'm Not Gonna Teach Your Boyfriend How to Dance with You" by The Black Kids. And I like that their chosen tracks include songs by Sloane and Lauryn Hill.