Oh, What A Perfect Day

It was my birthday Saturday.  Sure, I’m talking about it.  It was pretty good.  Three great events.


I had the good fortune to tag along to Idyllwood Farms with Vivian Szebeny of Upper Canada Cheese

I discovered that baby goats come packed in blue storage containers. A stackable goat-herd is very practical for condos or other small dwellings.

A Gemini like me. Though my face is less furry.


Ici Bistro actually.  Champagne to start and Grand Marnier souffle to finish.  Also discovered from my mother that I practically was raised on veal brains (they sold them at Safeway).  Apparently a popular dinner scrambled with eggs or breaded like schnitzel.  Also we used to inflate pigs bladders and use them as balls (wait, I think that was Little House on the Praire).  Such a similar life though.

This was sablefish in a lemon beurre blanc with white asparagus and tomato coulis.


Well, it’s true, I love Woody Allen.  When I go to New York I have these little fantasies that I bump into him (usually in Central Park) and then I don’t know what happens after that part because I absolutely cannot be normal around famous people, not even Jim Cuddy from Blue Rodeo.  Who I stood behind once when we were crossing the street at Yonge and Bloor and even that made me feel queasy in an “OMG it’s the back of  Jim Cuddy!!!!” way.

Til next year then.


Filed under Cheese/Cheese Related, Restaurants and Products, Ruminations on the Edible

3 responses to “Oh, What A Perfect Day

  1. I too have fantasies of Woody Allen. Namely, that he’ll make a film as good as Bullets Over Broadway again.

  2. He probably also has those fantasies…

  3. cmoabob

    Laugh-out-loud-alone-at-the-computer funny!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s