Monthly Archives: April 2013

A Literary Evening with Toronto Authors

AuthorPosterIt is not often that you have a book promotion in which four well-known authors would attend together, but this is what has happened in The Coach Room of Dundurn Castle in Hamilton,  Ontario.

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The Different Drummer, an independent bookstore in Burlington, Ontario presented together with Bryan Prince Bookseller and Random House Canada Toronto authors Don Gillmor, Tanis Rideout, Shyam Selvadurai and Ania Szado to read from their latest work.

Mount PleasantDon Gillmor is  a Toronto-based journalist who has won numerous National Magazine Awards.  His children’s books have been nominated for the Governor’s General Award and he has written a two-volume history of Canada as well as involved in the production of the television series Canada:  A People’s History. This evening he introduced his second novel Mount Pleasant by talking about the 1989  collapse of real estate prices and a life of debt confronted by the main character, Harry Salter, in his book. He read the except in which Harry was being persuaded by his real estate agent to purchase a  property well over its value only to discover afterwards the woes of  termites, lead pipes and leaking foundations.  On top of that he also lost money  by investing in an asbestos company.  Gillmor wrote and read with a sense of dry humour which delighted his audience.

The host introduced Tanis Rideout to be the Poet Laureate of Lake Ontario for her effort in Above All Things By: Tanis Rideoutprotecting the Niagara Escarpment and the lakes. She has won literary award for her poetry, and Above All Things is her first novel.

Rideout then read a poem of hers about the lake before reading from her book. Her prose sounded like poetry and the excerpt she had chosen describing the scene after George Mallory told his wife Ruth that he had been invited to join the Mount Everest expedition team for the first time flew with a lyrical beauty that was both sensual and emotional.  Her second passage was a heart-wrenching piece about Mallory’s last moment on his ill-fated final climb. It was equally poetic, but different in style. It almost brought tears to my eyes at the part when Mallory tore a picture of him and Ruth into halves and put away the part of Ruth in his pocket.

Sri-Lankan born Shyam Selvadurai’s Funny Boy won the Books in Canada First Novel Award and the Lamda Literary Award  for gay male fiction in the U.S.  The Hungry Ghosts, his third novel, is the first time he brings into the scene Toronto besides Sri Lanka. Selvadurai  talked about the Buddhist theme in his novel before he read with delightful animation Shivan’s meeting his grandmother for the first time when his mother took him and his sister home after the death of his father. The passage was colourful and the world seen through the eyes of young Shivan came to life.  Everything felt so real, and this likely was due to the semi-autobiographical nature of the book. Selvadurai is Tamil, and in the passage he read, Shivan joked that if his sister married a Sinhalese, she could change her name forever, with an appealing sarcastic touch.

Ania Szado showed the audience the costudiopy of The Little Prince she had kept since she read it as a child and described the inspiration behind the creation of Studio Saint-Ex to have come from reading the autobiography of Antoine de Saint-Exupéry and falling in love with him. She wanted to write about him and did extensive research and interviews into his life. She found that many women also fell in to with the author and were willing to do anything for him. This gave her the incentive to create a woman who also wanted something for herself, hence this ambitious designer from Montreal who wanted to climb in the world of haute couture that was burgeoning in New York–Mignonne LaChapelle was the protagonist. This was also the time when Saint Exupéry wrote The Little Prince.

The passage she read was the conversation between Mignonne and Antoine, when he appeared after a period of absence. I was mesmerized by the tension, the intimacy and the unfathomable intent behind the words.

There was a questioning period. The authors were asked how long it had taken them to write the novel. For Rideout, it was seven and Szado said that it took her two to three years and longer time in New York and Montreal interviewing people who knew Saint Exupéry.  It was also two to three years for Gillmor to write Mount Pleasant. It took longer for Selvadurai– 13 years– who added that he found it easier to write about his home country Sri Lanka than the landscape of Toronto. I certainly can relate to what he was saying, because even though I have lived in Toronto for over twenty years, I also find the words and images come about more easily when I think about the places I have lived earlier in my life, such as Hong Kong and England.

Other auhors also talked about the context in which they had created in their novels. Gillmor said that the neighbourhood of Rosedale had not changed and he had a good grasp of the landscape where his character lived. He spoke to long-time residents there about the time he set his novel. He walked a lot in the cemetery at Mount Pleasant. Szado described her experience living in a studio as a fine arts student and that was where she found the context for Mignonne’s studio. Rideout was charmingly honest that she never visited Nepal or came near the Everest–her inspiration of the mountains was drawn from the internet. However, she did not like the cold, and writing about the cold was not a problem for her.

It was a rare and totally enchanting evening in the company of these authors who read from their novels some of the most vivid and dramatic moments. When asked about film rights, all the them said that they had been approached—treated with fine dining and great conversation according to Gillmor– and yet nothing had materialized. This certainly gave some insight into the complexity of making a good book into a movie that will sell, let alone do justice to the original work.

Weekly Photo Challenge: CULTURE

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Tucked away in the town of Yuan Long in the New Territories in Hong Kong is this eatery famous for its Chiu Chow fish balls and vermicelli. It is constantly full, and the people sitting together may not even know one another, because it is the common practice to share a table. You sit down as directed, order and eat. Then you pay at the front and leave, but you’ll be content. It was the diametric contrast to a high end Chiu Chow restaurant I have tried, but just as satisfying.

I was there in winter and I had the most delicious bowl of piping hot mixed fish balls and beef balls vermicelli on that trip.

Kitchen Renovation (4): Plumbing, ducts and lights

After the tearing down of my kitchen, the plumber, the duct and vent installer, and the electrician with his assistant appeared as planned in the ensuing days. They were friendly and efficient.

New pipes were installed, because by opening a wider door, the pipes had to be moved. I did not feel too much inconvenience. I could not flush the toilet for over half a day, and the main was shut down for about half an hour.  The plumber’s assistant came the following day and gave me a new vent.

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I was very impressed by the electrician and his assistant. For me, it was an eye-opening experience to see how much was involved in electrical work that was behind the scene. Since my renovation involved installing new outlets, re-positioning existing ones and installing pot lights in the ceiling, it took them twelve hours to get the work done. I tipped my hat to their work ethics. They told me that they had a schedule to keep, and as long as I did not mind, they wanted to complete the job. Why would I mind?

The team had been working for ten days and the ground work was done. The supervisor  dropped by at the end of the day and was pleased. He told me that an inspector would come to look at the electric work, and the dry wall team would be next. So far so good, I said to myself.

Cee’s Fun Foto Challenge: Walks Indoors or Outdoors

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The paved walk in the city centre of Sydney Australia opens my post today for Cee’s Fun Foto Challenge: Walks Indoors or Outdoors. I love to travel on foot, because I can see more at my own pace.

Here is a side walk by Sydney Harbour.

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The the sidewalk on York Boulevard in  Hamilton, Ontario Canada.

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Country trails are my favourite, be it in Spring, Summer, Fall and Winter.

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And back to Austrlia, to the almost unwalkable trail in King’s Canyon

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Surprises On A Spring Hike: Silver Creek Conservation Area

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Our hike today was in the Silver Creek Conservation Area. None of us going on the hike had expected that there was a snow bank by Fallbrook Trail, where we parked our cars.

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Our experienced hike leader immediately checked to see if anyone of us had our icers/tracks with us. Well, none of us did, except him. He put his on and he had a spare pair that he offered to our “sweep”, the person who stayed at the back to make sure nobody got lost.

We began our hike by walking less than 200 metres of the Irwin Quarry Side Trail, which joined the Main Trail of the Bruce Trail and we started our climb of the Niagara Escarpment. No sooner had we entered the wood than we realized that surprises were waiting for us. The trail was in parts still covered with snow and shiny icy patches were visible. We landed our feet as carefully as possible, but the slipperiness could not be easily ignored.

As we continued, we tried to develop strategies to avoid slipping. One hiker suggested walking on the crystalline snow, which crumbled under our feet; at least the footing was better than ice. However, there were sections where we had no choice. All we could do was to slow down, use our hiking pole to anchor before landing. At times, we latched onto tress and swung our bodies forward. There was one narrow strip which was covered by ice and in the absence of an alternative path,  the only way to get pass was to hang on to the rocks, aimed for a tree ahead and grabbed it to come to a stop. It was treacherous!

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However, I was excited that I was hiking in an area that I had never hiked before. The rushing of the Silver Creek could be heard for a good distance even though it was not in sight. Then it appeared, with snow banks in parts, and we crossed this creek, which was a feeder stream into the Credit River a couple of times.

The hike took longer than anticipated, because we had to slow down frequently. It was incredible that within a short span of time, we were treading on ice, snow, water, mud and dry grounds.

The hike took us on part of the Bruce Trail Main Trail, the Great Esker (side) Trail and the Bennett Heritage (side) Trail. We passed en route Scotdale Farm and crossed also the Snow Creek. This section of the Bruce Trail was under the stewardship of the Toronto Club.

Two hikers fell, but fortunately nobody was injured. The experience was unique, and we were all relieved to be eventually out of the woods.

Map Reference: Bruce Trial Reference Map and Trail Guide Edition 27, p. 13.

Weekly Photo Challenge: UP

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The Ngong Ping 360  is a cable car ride of about 25 minutes from Tung Chung  to Ngong Ping in Lantau Island to visit the Ngong Ping Cultural Village and the famous Big Buddha. I took the cable car with the glass bottom, which offered a panoramic  view of the Tung Chung Bay and the Airport from high up.

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Another cable car ride in Hong Kong is a shorter but equally colourful and adventurous ride in Ocean Park.

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I was looking forward to taking another ride UP there in the hot air balloon, but sadly the ride did not operate due to high wind. Well, another time.

Weekly Photo Challenge: CHANGE (Kitchen Renovation 3: Go, Going, Gone!)

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This is a stage of my kitchen renovation which fits into the Weekly Photo Challenge Theme: CHANGE.

A dump bin was placed outside my house on the drive way. The two workmen came. We had a mini-conference as to what I would like to keep. In fact, my friend had wanted my old cabinets and the workmen were extremely helpful in keeping them intact and moving them to the garage for my friend to pick up. Then the banging began.

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I could not bear to stay around because the images of knocking down cabinets and walls on  the television show Restaurant Makeover and similar programmes were too vivid and harrowing to me. Furthermore, with the noise going on, I could not even work at home. My home was dusty, despite the sealing of the doors and the staircase. The tearing down took them three days.

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By the end, the floor was only a pile of rumbles, the ceiling was gone, the sink was gone, the pipes were exposed and part of a wall was knocked down. I was excited to see a bigger kitchen–of course, because the cabinets were all gone (silly me)–and the wider door was what I had wanted.

So far so good. The supervisor dropped by at the end of the day. I was pleased with the way the workmen tidied up the place every day before they left. So far, I had no complaint.

When I REALLY Do Not Want To Cook…Or When My Frontal Lobe Goes On Strike

When I REALLY do not want to cook, and it happens once in a while after a long day at work or running around doing errands, I do not even want to decide what to get for take-out or find what frozen food I have in my freezer. My husband will understand when I tell him that my front lobe has gone on strike. To my less neurologically inclined readers, it is my suggestion to my husband that I do not want to do any planning, organization and execution, and the less decision-making I do, the better. This means that unless he is happy to cook and wash up, we’d better eat out.

We both had been following the Boston bombing the entire afternoon yesterday. We were sad, though relieved that a couple of friends we knew were out there had passed the finish line and cleared of the area, including their families who went out to watch.  I really did not want to cook. My husband was quick to come up with a place to eat when I told him my frontal lobe had stopped functioning. He remembered driving past an Indian buffet restaurant the previous week, and since both of us liked curry, it required no thinking at all on my part. So off we went to  Flavours of India, a small restaurant offering buffet meals at a great deal.

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The moment we entered, we saw a couple of friends. It turned out that they came to the restaurant often on the recommendation of a mutual friend of ours. We were greeted by a friendly waiter who showed us where to sit. Looking around, I found interesting artifacts from India on display.

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The good thing about buffet was that I did not have to read the menu and ponder among choices. There was enough food on display that decision making was reduced to ‘yes’ or ‘no’. There was a wide selection of food: soup and starters, salad, rice and bread, vegetable dishes and meat dishes. There was also a wide range of curry flavours, from mild to hot and the food display was clearly labelled.

I had some soup, and sampled the samosa, pakora and tikki.

Many Indian buffet restaurants fall into two problems . The first is to have trays filled with sauces and not enough meat for obvious budgetary reasons. Secondly, the taste of the curry is too uniform.  Flavours of India did not have these problems and I did not have to stir my ladle around to hunt for a small piece of meat. The sauces were colourful and each curry had a distinctive taste. Besides, inasmuch as we knew that there is butter and coconut milk in some curries, the items served in this restaurant actually tasted quite healthy.

There were enough choices for me to have two helpings of different meat and vegetables, accompanied by rice and naan bread, which were very good to soak up the sauces.

Indian desserts tend to be very sweet. I did not try the Kulab Jamun, because it was too sweet for me, regardless of the restaurants. However, I enjoyed the rice pudding which was creamy and refreshing. My husband and I ate and shared our thoughts about Boston. We had some peaceful time thinking about the unfortunate ones and their families.

Although Flavours of India is not a gourmet restaurant, it is a friendly, neighbourhood restaurant which offers good food for great value. I am happy to go back, whether or not my frontal lobe decides to go on strike or not.

Flavours of India, 1400 Plains Road East, Burlington, Ontario.

Cee’s Fun Foto Challenge: ROADS

I have more pictures which fit in Cee’s Theme “Which way–Featuring Roads” than I initially thought.

Here is a cross-road, where the light rail tracks run across a street in the New Town of Tin Shiu Wai in the New Territories in Hong Kong.

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The highway to Uluru (Ayers Rock) in Australia.

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No. 27 Side Road, off Trafalgar Road, north of Hwy 401 in Ontario.

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Icy CN Rail linking Canada with the United States.

A back street in Sydney Australia near the vibrant The Rock. What a contrast!

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The roadway to the ferry to cross over to Prince Edward Island from Nova Scotia.

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The road surface to Confederation Bridge, from Prince Edward Island to New Brunswick.

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Finally, I hope you can see this road which is winding through the beautiful region near Big Sur, California bordering the Pacific Ocena.  I consider Big Sur to be the most breath-taking place to do a race (Big Sur International Marathon).

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Book Club Review: The White Tiger. Aravind Adiga

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The White Tiger, written by Aravind Adiga, won the Man Booker Prize in 2008. Our book club host chose it because it is set in India, where she had grown up in but left many years ago to live in the West. She wanted us to take a glimpse into the new India as it was known since the influx of western technology and without doubt, we were fascinated by the India that was depicted in the book.

Balram, the protagonist, was a self-made entrepreneur who ran a taxi company driving employees of call centres  to and from their work in Bangalore. He rose to this position in society from the darkest dumps in India among poverty and dirt, but not without his desire to escape what he was born into in order to climb in society combined with a bit of cleverness and a ruthless criminal mind.

We were all interested in the characterization of Balram Halwai. When the story began, we were reading his letter to the Chinese premier Wen Jiabao, full of sarcasm and scorn and then came an open slash out on his employer and his home village. As the story unfolded, Balram brought the readers through retrospective narrative following his journey to success in the India we know of today, where there was uncountable riches among some people in big cities like Delhi and Bangalore, and rotten poverty in the smaller villages. Balram was proud that he had made it.

His employer, Mr. Ashok.  joked that he was “half-baked” due to his lack of formal education. We reckoned that as a village boy, he only knew what he had been taught, but there was so much he did not know. However, Balram did not stop educating himself.  He eave-dropped. There was a street-smartness in him which enabled him to watch his surroundings, and picked out cues to please the people who had authority over him. He found his break when he learned how to drive, and got into his chauffeur job by back stabbing the one in service at the back. He had no qualms. He was an opportunist. The only sign of goodness in him was his care for the little boy who joined him to work in the big house.

He was a complicated character, and one whom none of us liked. We however were trying to imagine if we had been in his position, would anyone of us had done something similar. It was one thing to understand what Balram’s development, but another matter to sympathize with what he had done.

Funny though in places, this was a tragic story to most of us. Our Indian host confirmed the rigid class system in which some human beings were treated with contempt by others and   the bullying around the place for survival. It was hard to imagine Balram being sent off by his grandmother to make money, and when he stopped doing so, she threatened to marry him so as to get the bride’s dowry.

We questioned the value of human life as revealed by this novel. The wife of Balram’s boss ran over somebody. They did not care for the victim, and they made Balram signeda paper to admit that he committed the offense. That seemed to be the moment of revelation to Balram, a turning point where he began to set bigger goals. He killed his employer and ran away with the money. He gloated about his achievement, He was blatantly exposing the inequalities in his society, the lack of respect for fellow human beings and the value of life.

We began to wonder the intent of the author in portraying such a character. One member suggested the author was writing from outside of the Indian society from a lens of a western educated journalist. The economic success of the modern Indian did not pass the gauntlet of his critical eyes which searched for social equality. The rich tread down on the poor, and Balram, symbolizing the poor, justified the murder of his employer as an act of vindication.

Personally I was drawn to how Balram address to the Chinese Premier throughout and his irreverent and pointed remarks he made.  I opined that there was a political agenda in the context of the tense Sino-Indian relationship alluded to by the author. There is such irony that the two most populated countries in the world are going through economic development with the unprecedented polarization of the rich and the poor, measured in monetary terms. Do we not know that within both societies, there is bribery and corruption, and in both societies, outsiders and foreigners are treated with greater respect than one’s own people, and human life is never valued? China has always portrayed itself to be a better place than it is. Here comes Adiga, speaking to the Chinese Premier in the face, short of accusing his target as a hypocrite through the voice of the protagonist, Blaram Halwai.

We all liked the book. Adiga’s may not have fulfilled all the requirement of the novelist in giving due treatment to the various characters in the book, but his acumen in perceiving the dilemma of Indian society today (and his clever reference to China’s parallel situation ) is a winner.

At the end of our book club, we felt we should all continue with some Indian flavour by arranging a date for an Indian meal and to visit a temple in Toronto. My dear readers, please  keep an eye out for my post.

Swan Parade 2013

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What do these words bring to mind: Stratford, April, Swans? If you think I am talking about Shakespeare’s country in England, let me take you back to this side of the pond to Stratford, Ontario Canada! This is the first April weekend. We do not have daffodils out here yet, but the City of Stratford, which also has a River Avon running through it, has a crowd drawing Swan Parade every year to announce the arrival of Spring.

I arrived at the bank of the river half an hour before the parade and there were already over two thousand people waiting. The seniors sat in lawn chairs, the children ran around or waited patiently on the curb side, while the adults chatted, some of them wearing the paper swan hats that were handed out by the organizers. The marching band of the local police was playing to entertain the crowd. A lot of people came with their cameras, and what could be a better vantage point than climbing up the tree?

Two o’clock sharp and the Em-cee announced, “Here they come!”  The excitement of the crowd was palpable. The Stratford Police Pipes and Drums started to march down the street, heralding the swans from their Winter Quarters and headed towards the Avon River. Leading the swans were a couple of Chinese geese.  They looked so calm and composed, even the cameras clicking away did not upset them. A black swan came next with its head held high as if telling the crowd that it was proud to be the only black swan there. A herd of some twenty white swans followed in a orderly manner. The crowd started to parade behind them until the swans entered the river.

It was a windy Spring day, but well worth my while to drive out to Stratford to be part of the festivities. For many others, it was a family day out to enjoy the outdoor entertainment, face painting, photography display and dressing up.

The organizers included a swan decorations competitions for the shops in town.

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My husband and I visited the pens where the swans were kept in the winter before the parade and walked around the city to complete our trip before heading home.

Kitchen Renovation (2): Dislocation and Relocation

I have cleaned out my kitchen cabinets and pantry and this is time to take a last look at the kitchen as “before” and then I shall tidy up the utensils, dishes, cutlery and condiments for everyday use to evacuate from the kitchen for the renovation.

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The boxes are filled, and the corner of my living room is filled with stuff I think I don’t need (I hope).

There is also a pile of take to the thrift store but I just cannot do so without taking a picture of this beer can chicken roasting tin. This white elephant has occupied an entire cabinet for some five years, and only in the first two years of having it in my possession that I roasted my chicken rotisserie-style  while it sat on a can of beer. It is time it retired.

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My kitchen is now re-located in the basement. I feel reasonably well-equipped with my microwave oven, a toaster oven, a slow cooker and an induction heater. Mind you though, I cannot use more than two equipment at one time, because the electric fuse will jump. All this is more for my sense of security than functionality. My fridge is in the family room, and the contractor has cleverly given me a zipper entrance to screen off the dust but allowing accessibility from one area to another.

Stay tuned….the destruction is about to begin.

Travel Theme: Pale

This week’s Travel Theme from Ailsa is Pale.   http://wheresmybackpack.com/2013/04/05/travel-theme-pale/

This is sunrise on one of my flights:

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Nafplio, the first capital of the Hellenic Republic, and now capital of the region of Argolis. Greece.

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I discover among my album the perfect ingredients to produce a pale effect are: a cloudy day, water and the sky. So I have Mai Po Conservation Area in Hong Kong.

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Lake Ontario and Hamilton Harbour

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Then I also find an exception: an indoor display, but the water is still there.

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Chasing The Waves On An Urban Hike

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I never expected my first hike this season would turn out to be so exciting and dramatic. Yes, it was meant to be an easy warm-up hike from downtown Burlington to the Lift Bridge and looping back. But surprise was awaiting…

We started off as planned from the car park of the Burlington Central Library, headed out on Seneca Street through a quiet residential neighbourhood and turned into the Centennial (Bike) Trail. We headed west towards Brant Street and turned towards the boardwalk along Spencer Smith Park. When we were nearing the lake, we could hear the sounds of waves, but  it was only when  we reached the boardwalk that we realized the impact of the waves fueled by the east wind which was blowing in full force.

When a couple of us saw the waves rushing on shore and making huge splashes over the boardwalk, we were ecstatic. I took out my cell phone and starting clicking frantically away.

The white crested walls started to swell one after another across the bay and approached the shore. The roar got louder and louder, and the waves hit the rocks making a serious of deafening cracks as they broke. The water splashes rose about five feet above the guard rail. It was spectacular! Had it not been for our hike leader urging us to move on, we would have stayed there moving back and forth the boardwalk chasing the waves.

Walking along the  Waterfront Trail bordering the Beachway Park we saw the marks left by the wind and sand on the shoreline.

The Lift Bridge was finally in sight, and I took another picture here contrasting the old and the new bridges that had grown up with the City of Burlington.

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It simply was too windy and dangerous to work out to the pier and the lighthouse. We bid farewell to Burlington Bay and made our way back along the beach.

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The waves were rolling onto shore relentlessly, while we left our footprints on the sand.

The wind and waves continued to howl  when we were back at the boardwalk. The sky had cleared.  I could not resist the temptation to record again this powerful display of nature’s might. Now I wish I had a video to record this sight as well as the symphony of the waves and wind.

Leaving the boardwalk, we stopped briefly to examine the bronze statue commemorating the local servicemen who perished, and navy and merchant fleets sunken and lost at sea in the Second World War. Having witnessed the force of the wind and waves this morning, I could only imagine the perils that our servicemen had experienced when they sacrificed their lives  .

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Fusion Family Dining at Momofuku Daisho

Chef David Chang opened his three Momofuko restaurants (The Noodle Bar, Daisho and Shoto) in Toronto last Fall to raving reviews. My family and I had an occasion to celebrate and we picked Daisho to be the venue for our gourmet adventure. It was situated on the third floor and we chose to walk up the stairs by going through the Noodle Bar and caught a glimpse of the kitchen before entering the restaurant.

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The glass windows extended from floor to ceiling providing an unobstructed view of University Avenue. There were patrons already occupying the window seats and I did not want to intrude their privacy to take my own photo of the street view. Hence I have used and I acknowledge the photo from the Globe and Mail below.

The view from Daisho’s dining room, (Moe Doiron/The Globe and Mail)

(Source: Moe Dorin, The Globe and Mail, November 24, 2012.)

From where I sat, a spacious bar area and a well-lit wine cabinet separated the dining area from the kitchen. The decor was simple, refreshing and modern.

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The menu breathed fusion. Japanese Kanji (Chinese characters) were the headings of the dishes, which were in English. Our knowledge of Chinese helped us understand the conceptualization of the menu planning with a bit of imagination. When my daughter made the reservation, she already pre-ordered a porchetta for our party of five under the category called “Kung Fu Dishes”, which could be interpreted as the “Strength or Power of the House”. Depending on the size of the party, Diasho recommended a main dish to be shared, family style.

First arrived the tongs and then the pickles, several bowls of sauces and mustard (apple, Saskatoon berries, and honey) and the warm white buns. We were eager to start when the succulent aromatic pork arrived.

The pork was flavourful. The rind, the fatty ring and the meat offered variations in texture and taste.  The hint of sweetness in the bun cut into the saltness of the meat and balanced the fat. We all went for more helpings.

To complement the porchetta, we ordered under Winter the black salsify (a root vegetable) with white cocoa, steelhead roe and grains of paradise. This was an ingenious invention that wakened the taste buds.

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For Carbohydates, the black rice juk came with bone marrow, an egg and diced celery. “Juk” sounded like “congee”  in Chinese, but this “juk’ had a stickier consistency; interesting all the same.

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We also tried the hanger steak which came under Lettuce Wrap. It was a self-explanatory in dish that the steak was eaten wrapped in lettuce together with kimchi and onion.

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We were quite full by now, but it was decision well-made to order the Chocolate-Five different textures for dessert. It was a quintessential display of culinary craft from taste, texture to plating.

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Given our positive experience at Daisho, I will look for an opportunity to try The Noodle Bar and Shoto.

Momofuku Diasho, 190 University Avenue, Toronto, Ontario.

Momofuku Daishō on Urbanspoon

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