a day off on friday meant i kicked off my long weekend happily under the covers until after 9am. slowly rising, i got the fireplace humming and we enjoyed fried eggs piled high on stacks of crispy toast, fresh avocado, and balsamic-infused aged cheddar cheese for breakfast. paul accompanied me on an outing to pick up the essentials for our dinner party later that night: a mennonite-raised chicken for roasting, three cute-as-a-button acorn squashes, a freshly baked baguette, and a huge handful of fresh, snappy green beans. i punctuated the rest of my afternoon with short outings to the shops in our neighborhood: black linen napkins, a sweet smelling vanilla candle, a bottle of crisp white and more than enough waterloo dark to last us the evening.
our guests arrived slowly, filling our apartment with laughter and chatter. it was the first time we'd all been in the same room together - three couples, six new friends. everyone loosened up over the first few glasses of wine, and we eventually sat down to eat. the scent of lemony rosemary and thyme chicken, roasted to juicy perfection, filled the air and we piled our plates with hearty local winter fare. we finished dinner with gooey brownies and vanilla ice cream, topped with pomegranate seeds, and finished the wine before taking our guests up to the top of our building for a view of toronto, sparkling in the dark night, and a few games of pool. we went to bed that night happy to have made new friends and elated from the realization that being grown up really just means getting to have all the fun you want.
saturday i was itching to get outside... the long dark evenings of january had started to make me feel a little cagey. i left early in the morning to meander the stalls at the farmer's market, picking up dried black beans for burritos, soft sheep's cheese and farfalle pasta for the recipe the girl at the cheese counter had recommended, big portobello mushrooms to be stuffed with quinoa and more soft cheese, and enough fresh baguette, baba ghanoush, and artichoke & asiago spread to last us the weekend. i returned home for a meal that consisted of nothing more than french bread, sharp cheese, and zesty eggplant dip. i was in heaven.
we left our warm apartment in the early afternoon to visit farenheit coffee at their new location, the opening of which i had been anxiously awaiting. it was a stark little place, with unstained wooden bar-height counters and only a few stools. the barista seemed to know everyone who came in, and he talked excitedly with me about the new space (twice the size of their old one) and the luxury that they now had enough room for a pastry chef to make their treats in-house. we settled down on our stools by the window - paul with a superbly light cappuccino, and me with a deliciously rich mocha - and passed an hour reading novels and interior design magazines.
from there we wandered slowly west along queen street, stopping to gaze into shop windows and grab a quick lunch. as it began to get dark we waited for our streetcar home and got caught in an unexpected heavy snowfall - delightful. we ate cupcakes on the streetcar and when i got into bed that night, i was full of chocolate, adventure, and happiness. i was sated.
saturday i was itching to get outside... the long dark evenings of january had started to make me feel a little cagey. i left early in the morning to meander the stalls at the farmer's market, picking up dried black beans for burritos, soft sheep's cheese and farfalle pasta for the recipe the girl at the cheese counter had recommended, big portobello mushrooms to be stuffed with quinoa and more soft cheese, and enough fresh baguette, baba ghanoush, and artichoke & asiago spread to last us the weekend. i returned home for a meal that consisted of nothing more than french bread, sharp cheese, and zesty eggplant dip. i was in heaven.
we left our warm apartment in the early afternoon to visit farenheit coffee at their new location, the opening of which i had been anxiously awaiting. it was a stark little place, with unstained wooden bar-height counters and only a few stools. the barista seemed to know everyone who came in, and he talked excitedly with me about the new space (twice the size of their old one) and the luxury that they now had enough room for a pastry chef to make their treats in-house. we settled down on our stools by the window - paul with a superbly light cappuccino, and me with a deliciously rich mocha - and passed an hour reading novels and interior design magazines.
from there we wandered slowly west along queen street, stopping to gaze into shop windows and grab a quick lunch. as it began to get dark we waited for our streetcar home and got caught in an unexpected heavy snowfall - delightful. we ate cupcakes on the streetcar and when i got into bed that night, i was full of chocolate, adventure, and happiness. i was sated.
sunday brought dark skies and a considerably lazier feeling. a long, late, slow morning followed by a long, easy afternoon. there was much reading of novels and listening to records, and evening was marked by a quick jaunt out through the falling snow to retrieve some savoury indian food for dinner. we retired to our cozy apartment to enjoy each other's company and to watch movies late into the night.
