I went to the Harbourfront Centre again tonight, this time to see a free movie! The sun was beginning to set as I got there, and the breezes off the lake felt wonderful. There were a few sailboats and canoes out on the water, and the ubiquitous ducks (I hate ducks. Ask me to tell that story another time, though). The islands looked beautiful. Just before the film started, the sun set, with puffy pink and blue clouds hanging over the water.
There are two weeks left - free showings at the WestJet stage, on Tuesdays at 9pm (sundown). The emcee was loquacious, but in the end he did get to presenting the movie.
Next week: Lost in Translation
August 9: Audience Choice (Vote for Cairo Time!!)
Tonight's movie was called Amal. It's a film I'd never heard about until I watched the trailer before deciding to go out tonight. The film is a bittersweet (mostly sweet) story about a poor autorickshaw driver, content with his life, and always looking out for others. He unknowingly gets offered a windfall - an inheritance from one of his customers. The plot follows the customer's lawyers as they try to find the main character, and of the family members as they try to prevent the Will from being realized. The film is about the main character, but New Delhi also plays a role, as he drives his rickshaw around the city. The ending is perfect. I repeat, perfect. It could not end better.
I love this film. I'm no critic, but I highly recommend it. Go see it. Do.
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
Rooftop Garden at UofT
Once more, blogTO.com has delightful news. This time, it's about a student-run rooftop garden at the university. They even have a beehive on the roof to polinate the plants!
Even better, they give tours:
Interested in visiting the Sky Garden? Bi-monthly tours start at 5:00 p.m. in the main lobby of the Galbraith Building located at 35 St. George Street. RSVP to urbanagriculturesociety@gmail.com to reserve your spot or view the tour schedule here.
Click this post's subject link for the full article.
Even better, they give tours:
Interested in visiting the Sky Garden? Bi-monthly tours start at 5:00 p.m. in the main lobby of the Galbraith Building located at 35 St. George Street. RSVP to urbanagriculturesociety@gmail.com to reserve your spot or view the tour schedule here.
Click this post's subject link for the full article.
Sunday, July 24, 2011
Sekanjabin
I found the minty drink so delightful that I've decided to re-create it, at home. I plan to drink it as is, and also to add rum to it, as the occasion demands.
The link in the title leads you to the recipe I decided to try out, first time around, to make the minty syrup that is the basis of the drink. In case you don't care to click the link, here's the recipe (slightly altered) in the post:
Ingredients:
4 cups sugar
2 cups water
1 cup white vinegar*
1 cup fresh mint leaves
1 sprig mint per glass, and shredded/grated cucumber to add to the pitcher or the glass
In a large pan over medium heat, bring the sugar and water to a boil. Boil for five minutes, then add the (correct amount!) of vinegar. Boil until the syrup drips slowly from the end of a cold spoon. Lower the heat, add the mint, and simmer for three minutes. Strain the syrup into a jar and let cool. Add three tbsp of syrup to each glass, fill with water, stir. Serve with mint, shredded cucumber, ice, rum, et cetera.
*I've just now realized that I doubled the vinegar without knowing, and nothing else. So, I guess I'll see if this batch turns out. Shame if it doesn't, given the amount of sugar required. Sigh.
The link in the title leads you to the recipe I decided to try out, first time around, to make the minty syrup that is the basis of the drink. In case you don't care to click the link, here's the recipe (slightly altered) in the post:
Ingredients:
4 cups sugar
2 cups water
1 cup white vinegar*
1 cup fresh mint leaves
1 sprig mint per glass, and shredded/grated cucumber to add to the pitcher or the glass
In a large pan over medium heat, bring the sugar and water to a boil. Boil for five minutes, then add the (correct amount!) of vinegar. Boil until the syrup drips slowly from the end of a cold spoon. Lower the heat, add the mint, and simmer for three minutes. Strain the syrup into a jar and let cool. Add three tbsp of syrup to each glass, fill with water, stir. Serve with mint, shredded cucumber, ice, rum, et cetera.
*I've just now realized that I doubled the vinegar without knowing, and nothing else. So, I guess I'll see if this batch turns out. Shame if it doesn't, given the amount of sugar required. Sigh.
Finally, a Festival!
Ever since I returned from backpacking, I've been hiding out in my apartment, resting my knee (and shoulder, after I wrenched it filling a watering can) and getting quite a bit of work done. I finally got bored yesterday, so I checked out blogTO, which I remember every now and then, as a good place to find out about happenings in Toronto. I ended up reading about the Tirgan Iranian Festival, taking place this weekend at the Harbourfront Centre.
Today, I biked downtown, and after eventually finding my way out of random parks and parking lots between Front St and Queens Quay W., I reached the Centre, and the festival.
Wandered around a bit, looking at the wares (I didn't spend much time browsing, since I easily succumb to the temptation of pretty things, and have no money to buy said pretty things). Decided I was hungry, so I walked around the "World Cafe", a little box of vendors from Iranian restaurants in the city, and bought a koobi-something wrap from one of them. Having no idea what anything was, I just asked the cashier for his recommendation. It was really tasty! Mm.
After awhile (I don't know how long, since I forgot to bring any kind of time-telling device), I noticed one of the stages was occupied. Seated on a little hill covered in hot, fake turf, I watched a few minutes of demonstrations on the Daf, a wide-framed drum, and then made my way (past the tea house) to another stage, where the Silk Road dance company was scheduled to perform at 3pm. At the tea house, I bought a minty drink, called sekanjabin, that was delicious, sweet and refreshing and summery. Got to the stage a bit late, and ended up sitting half in the sun (one quarter of my back, almost exactly square-shaped, is the only unburned section of my upper back and shoulders - don't ask me how that happened). The performance was incredible! They performed dances from all over the Persian Empire and Silk Road, including the Azerbaijan Tea Dance; Tajikistan Tulip Dance; one from Afghanistan that had been taught by a woman who had lived there during the Soviet period; and a dance that, before Christianity arrived in the region, celebrated the birth of the firstborn girl in a family. The costumes were gorgeous, and handmade. One set, for an Uzbekistan dance, was made from Samarkand silk in an Ikat pattern, that had been donated by a woman who saw the company's performance there. The dances themselves were beautiful, but I must admit, my favorite part was imagining the history of the region and the dances and the peoples. I highly recommend the performance.
Overall, a very good day.
Today, I biked downtown, and after eventually finding my way out of random parks and parking lots between Front St and Queens Quay W., I reached the Centre, and the festival.
Wandered around a bit, looking at the wares (I didn't spend much time browsing, since I easily succumb to the temptation of pretty things, and have no money to buy said pretty things). Decided I was hungry, so I walked around the "World Cafe", a little box of vendors from Iranian restaurants in the city, and bought a koobi-something wrap from one of them. Having no idea what anything was, I just asked the cashier for his recommendation. It was really tasty! Mm.
After awhile (I don't know how long, since I forgot to bring any kind of time-telling device), I noticed one of the stages was occupied. Seated on a little hill covered in hot, fake turf, I watched a few minutes of demonstrations on the Daf, a wide-framed drum, and then made my way (past the tea house) to another stage, where the Silk Road dance company was scheduled to perform at 3pm. At the tea house, I bought a minty drink, called sekanjabin, that was delicious, sweet and refreshing and summery. Got to the stage a bit late, and ended up sitting half in the sun (one quarter of my back, almost exactly square-shaped, is the only unburned section of my upper back and shoulders - don't ask me how that happened). The performance was incredible! They performed dances from all over the Persian Empire and Silk Road, including the Azerbaijan Tea Dance; Tajikistan Tulip Dance; one from Afghanistan that had been taught by a woman who had lived there during the Soviet period; and a dance that, before Christianity arrived in the region, celebrated the birth of the firstborn girl in a family. The costumes were gorgeous, and handmade. One set, for an Uzbekistan dance, was made from Samarkand silk in an Ikat pattern, that had been donated by a woman who saw the company's performance there. The dances themselves were beautiful, but I must admit, my favorite part was imagining the history of the region and the dances and the peoples. I highly recommend the performance.
Overall, a very good day.
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
Four Days in the Wilderness
Having found myself stressed by big-city living over the past several months, I recently took a small vacation to get out of the city. For the first time in my life, I went backpacking. My brother came up to visit for a week, and we spent four days in Algonquin Provincial Park, walking the Western Highlands Route.
One of the most stressful aspects of going backpacking? Buying and renting equipment. Yes, if one is an experienced and frequent backpacker, one is less likely to require renting and buying equipment. However, with my brother flying in, and with me being the least experienced, we had a lot of this to do. We rented from two different places, since the first place we went was out of tents, backpacks, and sleeping pads, but luckily the second place was right across the street. We did a lot of dodging traffic and jaywalking that day.
We had everything planned, we were going to get up early and leave the next morning after picking up the rental car for the drive north, but realized that night (before our departure) that the tent we'd been given had no poles. Yes, the tent was missing poles. How that happened... shrug. However, we thankfully discovered it before we left, and therefore did have a tent to sleep in for three nights.
Got lost on our way north, in part due to bad directions (at a Shoppers, an employee suggested we take King's Way to Highway 11, which was the continuation north of Yonge St. Found out when we got there that really, Yonge St. turns into Highway ONE. Sigh).
Anyway, we did make it to the park on time, thanks to some speedy driving and Google's overestimation of the time it takes to get there. We started out that evening, hiking for just under two hours before reaching our first camp, next "door" to some very nice, helpful campers. We camped right in front of a pretty lake, Maple Leaf, it was called, and had our first freeze-dried (my first ever) dinner. Beef stroganoff. Not my favorite, but still edible. I learned the bear-bagging process that night, which involved lots of wandering around and staring at trees, and then some good (and bad) rope-throwing. My main tasks seemed to be to throw accurately when my brother got tired, and to tug on the rope once we got the food hooked onto it. We also discovered the mosquitoes that day. Which turned out to be a key theme and motivating factor throughout our hike.
Day Two involved a pretty early wake-up time, but a late start, given trouble finding moving water to zap with UV rays. After packing everything up and doing some waiting, I heard a ferocious barking across the lake, and then my brother's voice asking politely, if somewhat hesitantly, if he could use the water the dog's owners were using. They happily agreed, as far as I could tell, and I spent some more time waiting around. We hiked like we were running away from Sasquatch the next day, and without stopping for lunch, made it to our next campsite in half a day, just after lunch time. We spent that afternoon hanging around down by the next lake (Maggie, I think), and wading in it, and watching leeches and loons and frogs, and swatting at horse flies. We must have had a whole section of the lakeside camping grounds to ourselves - never heard or saw anyone. That night, we were treated to a chorus of frog song, which I like less than cricket noises. We heard the most amazing bird-calls, but couldn't identify it - one sounded almost like a scream, while another sounded like a high-pitched chuckle.
We got up rather late that morning, having figured we had time to spare, given our early arrival at this campsite. Walked another half-day's hike up and down and up and down hills, but that day we did stop for lunch. Thank goodness. We spent a relaxing hour by yet another lake, watching loons and butterflies this time, and not wading. Followed a canoe portage out of the campsite, and continued on our way. I think this is the day we started seeing moose tracks, although we never saw the moose, which was slightly disappointing (or more than slightly, if you ask my brother). Our third campsite had two levels, though we just used the first one - it was high above the lake (Ramona), so we could see over the water. Saw a loon fly back and forth, fish in the water, and more frogs (and a tadpole-frog!). Endured more mosquitoes and horse flies, and had the most trouble ever trying to find appropriate trees to use to hang the food. We ended up, after much frustration, tramping around in decaying and mossy leaves, clambering up onto and over a fallen tree, and getting the rope caught on the rough bark, before finally getting the bag high enough. We should have had a hilarious picture of my brother doing a poor imitation of a bear under the bag, but had forgotten the camera. Next morning, when we'd planned to take it, events intervened.
I woke up around 5:45 in the morning because the sky was just light, and I heard a loud, booming noise. And then it came again. And I woke my brother up, asking, Did you hear that? He stared at me, uncomprehending, before he heard it, too. I asked the obvious, Was that thunder? And he agreed. So I asked, Should we get going? And we both leaped up (or some variation on the theme) and started running around, trying to get all our stuff out of the tent and the tent rolled up and the food down and our bags packed and rain gear on... we made it about halfway through all our preparations (not including breakfast) before the sky opened. We spent the first half of that morning's hike walking in the rain, and the whole morning trudging through mud and muck. I almost preferred the first part of the morning to the second, because the mosquitoescame back (I guess that implies they left us alone, which they never did) swarmed with a vengeance. Horrid things. We had our rain gear on, so the only things they could reach were faces, necks, and hands... when we finally, finally, reached the last information sign that informed us we had about ten minutes walk to the car, we picked up the pace and practically ran to get away from them. Not that it helped.
We survived, and had fun, and those are the important things, although, in addition to looking like a pincushion or a person with a really bad rash, I busted my knee. Found out about that a day after we got back, trying to get ready to go out for what appeared to be a fun evening (I didn't get to go, because the walking thing wasn't happening). We learned a few things about backpacking, for instance: avoiding mosquito season is a really good idea. Also, I have never appreciated a shower as much as I did the evening we got back.
One of the most stressful aspects of going backpacking? Buying and renting equipment. Yes, if one is an experienced and frequent backpacker, one is less likely to require renting and buying equipment. However, with my brother flying in, and with me being the least experienced, we had a lot of this to do. We rented from two different places, since the first place we went was out of tents, backpacks, and sleeping pads, but luckily the second place was right across the street. We did a lot of dodging traffic and jaywalking that day.
We had everything planned, we were going to get up early and leave the next morning after picking up the rental car for the drive north, but realized that night (before our departure) that the tent we'd been given had no poles. Yes, the tent was missing poles. How that happened... shrug. However, we thankfully discovered it before we left, and therefore did have a tent to sleep in for three nights.
Got lost on our way north, in part due to bad directions (at a Shoppers, an employee suggested we take King's Way to Highway 11, which was the continuation north of Yonge St. Found out when we got there that really, Yonge St. turns into Highway ONE. Sigh).
Anyway, we did make it to the park on time, thanks to some speedy driving and Google's overestimation of the time it takes to get there. We started out that evening, hiking for just under two hours before reaching our first camp, next "door" to some very nice, helpful campers. We camped right in front of a pretty lake, Maple Leaf, it was called, and had our first freeze-dried (my first ever) dinner. Beef stroganoff. Not my favorite, but still edible. I learned the bear-bagging process that night, which involved lots of wandering around and staring at trees, and then some good (and bad) rope-throwing. My main tasks seemed to be to throw accurately when my brother got tired, and to tug on the rope once we got the food hooked onto it. We also discovered the mosquitoes that day. Which turned out to be a key theme and motivating factor throughout our hike.
Day Two involved a pretty early wake-up time, but a late start, given trouble finding moving water to zap with UV rays. After packing everything up and doing some waiting, I heard a ferocious barking across the lake, and then my brother's voice asking politely, if somewhat hesitantly, if he could use the water the dog's owners were using. They happily agreed, as far as I could tell, and I spent some more time waiting around. We hiked like we were running away from Sasquatch the next day, and without stopping for lunch, made it to our next campsite in half a day, just after lunch time. We spent that afternoon hanging around down by the next lake (Maggie, I think), and wading in it, and watching leeches and loons and frogs, and swatting at horse flies. We must have had a whole section of the lakeside camping grounds to ourselves - never heard or saw anyone. That night, we were treated to a chorus of frog song, which I like less than cricket noises. We heard the most amazing bird-calls, but couldn't identify it - one sounded almost like a scream, while another sounded like a high-pitched chuckle.
We got up rather late that morning, having figured we had time to spare, given our early arrival at this campsite. Walked another half-day's hike up and down and up and down hills, but that day we did stop for lunch. Thank goodness. We spent a relaxing hour by yet another lake, watching loons and butterflies this time, and not wading. Followed a canoe portage out of the campsite, and continued on our way. I think this is the day we started seeing moose tracks, although we never saw the moose, which was slightly disappointing (or more than slightly, if you ask my brother). Our third campsite had two levels, though we just used the first one - it was high above the lake (Ramona), so we could see over the water. Saw a loon fly back and forth, fish in the water, and more frogs (and a tadpole-frog!). Endured more mosquitoes and horse flies, and had the most trouble ever trying to find appropriate trees to use to hang the food. We ended up, after much frustration, tramping around in decaying and mossy leaves, clambering up onto and over a fallen tree, and getting the rope caught on the rough bark, before finally getting the bag high enough. We should have had a hilarious picture of my brother doing a poor imitation of a bear under the bag, but had forgotten the camera. Next morning, when we'd planned to take it, events intervened.
I woke up around 5:45 in the morning because the sky was just light, and I heard a loud, booming noise. And then it came again. And I woke my brother up, asking, Did you hear that? He stared at me, uncomprehending, before he heard it, too. I asked the obvious, Was that thunder? And he agreed. So I asked, Should we get going? And we both leaped up (or some variation on the theme) and started running around, trying to get all our stuff out of the tent and the tent rolled up and the food down and our bags packed and rain gear on... we made it about halfway through all our preparations (not including breakfast) before the sky opened. We spent the first half of that morning's hike walking in the rain, and the whole morning trudging through mud and muck. I almost preferred the first part of the morning to the second, because the mosquitoes
We survived, and had fun, and those are the important things, although, in addition to looking like a pincushion or a person with a really bad rash, I busted my knee. Found out about that a day after we got back, trying to get ready to go out for what appeared to be a fun evening (I didn't get to go, because the walking thing wasn't happening). We learned a few things about backpacking, for instance: avoiding mosquito season is a really good idea. Also, I have never appreciated a shower as much as I did the evening we got back.
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