tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-357763532024-03-07T08:45:29.992-08:00The Truffle WarrenH&J's home and abroad adventure blogJ. Powershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06591410044540441696noreply@blogger.comBlogger129125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35776353.post-5968143775761313952011-05-08T09:52:00.000-07:002011-05-08T09:52:14.868-07:00Pesto in PortovènerePortovènere is pretty much the epitome of Ligurian resorts, meaning that there's nothing on the Med that can top it, only a few places that can even equal it. It's got a row of pastel houses facing its cove, the requisite handful of old churches, some ruined fortresses, a sign commemorating <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lord_byron">Lord Byron's</a> visit, one small beach, two or three mussel farms, a few great seaside restos, a swank strip of shops, a regular ferry to <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cinque_Terre">Cinque Terre</a>, and the world's best pesto.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsF6TMCQdHPwOzdEP7U63qRV2XJHk43dou4sREIgygk8JFTgmZ1GaoNYWXlZMJyOBVINMEYqEb2wbdqSahCEL9i3sdVHKEx6vvfPPtaOa96JeQJZlQ9iVHLW12MSMZLS5YET4HlA/s1600/IMG_1016.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsF6TMCQdHPwOzdEP7U63qRV2XJHk43dou4sREIgygk8JFTgmZ1GaoNYWXlZMJyOBVINMEYqEb2wbdqSahCEL9i3sdVHKEx6vvfPPtaOa96JeQJZlQ9iVHLW12MSMZLS5YET4HlA/s320/IMG_1016.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>I don't see anything missing. Do you?</i></span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWwZTK0HgHCRe_OI4avWn6Io681DFOCbEYUWoXQDBbV_ndktREDfOwNrcg0q6F3TN7b0eOM-MPbs62sh_ENbI9b2iJiamtUq1bEnwEMUfsRde6IpOcZ4Hs8D3rjReGVwCwY14yUg/s1600/IMG_1009.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWwZTK0HgHCRe_OI4avWn6Io681DFOCbEYUWoXQDBbV_ndktREDfOwNrcg0q6F3TN7b0eOM-MPbs62sh_ENbI9b2iJiamtUq1bEnwEMUfsRde6IpOcZ4Hs8D3rjReGVwCwY14yUg/s320/IMG_1009.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Bridge to a secret garden across the street.</i></span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDIdBRMztkueydZCHaaVu2CgzxodtMX0ACrmxigT9FUMIdbzR9Uk9u7ZZw3xjSWDpcNbND7u7euCNQN5JO6pHD7IBLBvT6hy3U5JEddbI-YcBQrV_sxNf-QVcjFyoA-URUFM95Ww/s1600/IMG_0980.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDIdBRMztkueydZCHaaVu2CgzxodtMX0ACrmxigT9FUMIdbzR9Uk9u7ZZw3xjSWDpcNbND7u7euCNQN5JO6pHD7IBLBvT6hy3U5JEddbI-YcBQrV_sxNf-QVcjFyoA-URUFM95Ww/s320/IMG_0980.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>I forgot to include insouciant seagulls on my list above, but they were indeed present.</i></span>J. Powershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06591410044540441696noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35776353.post-81834973147752813332011-05-06T09:19:00.000-07:002011-06-10T15:21:34.874-07:00The last Tuscan republicWe arrived today in Livorno, Italy, which is generally known as the port of Florence. Instead of taking the 1.5-hour shuttle to Florence, however, we went to <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lucca">Lucca</a>, which was the only city republic in Tuscany that was never conquered by Florence. It's a charming walled city about 4 km in diameter, making it eminently walkable. Great shops, fantastic cafés, and fragrant restaurants compete for your attention in the streets, while every piazza has a polychrome church or palace facade that flirts with the photographer in you.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE_fZBNGqoOgve1qHYzyTdAldNUFj5B8Ar4MArCHrVA1YqtvOyjdcKYQ6h9YxJtnDQ8oBhY0fs3FTK42gVqovMi1NLnhT8M0s6RjeEjDUjRUa4dK7Vta1lfuYjfJMq2uLQaEfZHA/s1600/IMG_0914.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE_fZBNGqoOgve1qHYzyTdAldNUFj5B8Ar4MArCHrVA1YqtvOyjdcKYQ6h9YxJtnDQ8oBhY0fs3FTK42gVqovMi1NLnhT8M0s6RjeEjDUjRUa4dK7Vta1lfuYjfJMq2uLQaEfZHA/s320/IMG_0914.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><i><span style="font-size: x-small;">No one knows shop windows like the Italians.</span></i><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiryK-vf00r-_N5BQbLDhzPz5YmPQr7WjvB5JlcUkMnY6wWbhu2pjgGtLXrUjg-68IUqitbbWD8y5BdLUXteu9HMnUS-TWNVkm_gf7YewqwcTzi6s8HW3IQXqgAPG2VQ4xUeYBhmg/s1600/IMG_0941.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiryK-vf00r-_N5BQbLDhzPz5YmPQr7WjvB5JlcUkMnY6wWbhu2pjgGtLXrUjg-68IUqitbbWD8y5BdLUXteu9HMnUS-TWNVkm_gf7YewqwcTzi6s8HW3IQXqgAPG2VQ4xUeYBhmg/s320/IMG_0941.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Greetings, Mamma!</i></span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC6WScJ7Sdm8gvwXxUweMB5pSn3L_wwKDIINe9w_N94AgEUZKR5XNN1t-6nZRDxx3Wj2Wqa5b3x-77y08Abmsxa4ZRMD5JIlN-NNj7-4ZJjwhMo7hbTg3o0_H7QM9ob05a7uanOw/s1600/IMG_0932.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC6WScJ7Sdm8gvwXxUweMB5pSn3L_wwKDIINe9w_N94AgEUZKR5XNN1t-6nZRDxx3Wj2Wqa5b3x-77y08Abmsxa4ZRMD5JIlN-NNj7-4ZJjwhMo7hbTg3o0_H7QM9ob05a7uanOw/s320/IMG_0932.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>That's not paint. Really.</i></span><br />
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Preserved in part by its city walls, Lucca boasts nearly perfectly preserved Medieval streets that box you in, even from above.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp3Zjy2j6olPs0xtvFSQOKySdW3lBvZXsDpPFAscJBf-ZGqI_IrEIFbqL6LIM0km82S19MiI8UhtfmEadFfh88u0l-AOp1ll8OuMitmEtW-aEbFNNExsH-FyWP1jnVtkpdsUWYdA/s1600/IMG_0918.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp3Zjy2j6olPs0xtvFSQOKySdW3lBvZXsDpPFAscJBf-ZGqI_IrEIFbqL6LIM0km82S19MiI8UhtfmEadFfh88u0l-AOp1ll8OuMitmEtW-aEbFNNExsH-FyWP1jnVtkpdsUWYdA/s320/IMG_0918.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><i><span style="font-size: x-small;">The cornices snip the sky like a stencil.</span></i><br />
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And you never know what you might see when you turn a corner. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBajHNZmDraR4BQ5nHdHy_uE3-x-ExgIK6yyo10XP8LevwQIxgETRzvSc3EDRy3_I0WsoLe_YLgNOU4_aZVHvd9UxlkDd5E7HyH_f0WfnFkLSkKKTWSL_dwzIcRY99BjP_1A-pGA/s1600/IMG_0949.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBajHNZmDraR4BQ5nHdHy_uE3-x-ExgIK6yyo10XP8LevwQIxgETRzvSc3EDRy3_I0WsoLe_YLgNOU4_aZVHvd9UxlkDd5E7HyH_f0WfnFkLSkKKTWSL_dwzIcRY99BjP_1A-pGA/s320/IMG_0949.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Count your blessings; this tower has has a bad hair </span></i><span style="font-size: x-small;">century</span><i><span style="font-size: x-small;">.</span></i>J. Powershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06591410044540441696noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35776353.post-67461214428066483172011-05-04T06:17:00.000-07:002011-05-05T03:53:10.528-07:00Calvi, CorsicaAnother island caught between France and Italy, Corsica is a physically spectacular amalgam of white sand beaches, sun-sipping mountain peaks, olive tree orchards, terraced vineyards, and easy-going poverty. There are least two ski-slopes where you can see white sand beaches as you ski. It must feel like you can ski right into the ocean.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic2h6CW6JxTdj3mynrxkq9isqZ7fm3mk3hU4m1kh9DVae6F2S21xC517Zu-f9fvaxDf6eGtN10h3pw-P7iKSnoMRBWQROWNO1E2tq0o9jsgV_Hri40e-eVlzrTAc3uwZ-3rL_Y3w/s1600/IMG_0860.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic2h6CW6JxTdj3mynrxkq9isqZ7fm3mk3hU4m1kh9DVae6F2S21xC517Zu-f9fvaxDf6eGtN10h3pw-P7iKSnoMRBWQROWNO1E2tq0o9jsgV_Hri40e-eVlzrTAc3uwZ-3rL_Y3w/s320/IMG_0860.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><i><span style="font-size: x-small;">The port of Calvi, as seen from any village in the valley.</span></i><br />
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The low-walled roads wind through the mountains, careless and sure-footed. Atop the spine of the mountain chain that divides the island into halves, the pure Mediterranean sky invents clouds spontaneously, suddenly veiling the villages that cling to every rocky outcropping. There really does seem to be a village on every promontory, each with a humble church, a picturesque cafe, a vineyard or an olive grove, and a few sloping staircases that knit the city to the hill beneath it.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi66JdSZESxyr9NT-IQoSqvvoT261hQnP1yltTcyLN1PlxUlvfAQI5n8J7ZzeD_dVzwLr6aILT7pXEoVMU6RYVd25LGvvfHr25Ba__x-A97ApUweRTBu_XnTugCZgz6zpSYOu06iA/s1600/IMG_0871.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi66JdSZESxyr9NT-IQoSqvvoT261hQnP1yltTcyLN1PlxUlvfAQI5n8J7ZzeD_dVzwLr6aILT7pXEoVMU6RYVd25LGvvfHr25Ba__x-A97ApUweRTBu_XnTugCZgz6zpSYOu06iA/s320/IMG_0871.JPG" width="240" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>The village of San'Antonino, perched atop its crag.</i></span><br />
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It is an island of striking geographical contrasts and broad, but gentle poverty. It may be that only the tourists have money here, but it may be that the natives have purchased something close to peace with their poverty, which is perhaps an exchange that needs further consideration in our have-it-all culture.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWMXc9qZH0zDNUD6y7qB93rq1jSArGEYWnh8q7iHEfipefi2NnpVguIibLYI6jtOl6VQA1m9IwPzFt0-s1x7AJQO06om4jHXlZM47F_fB9exYdfflMfkBq5fIbmZnE283uAnSKnA/s1600/IMG_0880.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWMXc9qZH0zDNUD6y7qB93rq1jSArGEYWnh8q7iHEfipefi2NnpVguIibLYI6jtOl6VQA1m9IwPzFt0-s1x7AJQO06om4jHXlZM47F_fB9exYdfflMfkBq5fIbmZnE283uAnSKnA/s320/IMG_0880.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>The clouds sweeping in suddenly to occlude the view.</i></span>J. Powershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06591410044540441696noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35776353.post-52198845372000773022011-05-03T06:52:00.000-07:002011-05-03T06:52:59.561-07:00Where Napolean bided his timeToday was supposed to be a "marina day": the ship has a floating marina that folds into a storage bay near the engine. They anchor the ship, unfold the marina, and host a floating water-skiing and swimming party. But it was cancelled since the winds were too stiff and the waters too rough. Just as well, since the Med is still rather cold at this time of year.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB0bYGRAkThEqKPD1RaZS-HoQtml2e-suU7VpeUsWK8A6Ex2XL9p4xV0thUja-GL2BHFgwbip61cfxfxhXI3W1Agp4-Iyjv-2i5v10nJTi6reZ6OO6UOWAsjNeXZGWxL7fO3OIcQ/s1600/Seabourn+Legend+Marina.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB0bYGRAkThEqKPD1RaZS-HoQtml2e-suU7VpeUsWK8A6Ex2XL9p4xV0thUja-GL2BHFgwbip61cfxfxhXI3W1Agp4-Iyjv-2i5v10nJTi6reZ6OO6UOWAsjNeXZGWxL7fO3OIcQ/s320/Seabourn+Legend+Marina.jpg" width="287" /></a></div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>And here I thought foldout couches were pretty cool.</i></span><br />
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Instead, the captain made arrangements to put in at Portoferraio on Elba Island--the infamous village to which Napolean was exiled when he first fell from the throne, and from which he led his inimitable march back to Paris (and to power). Everything was closed, but it hardly matters: all sunny days are good days in Italy.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsEWbIwgY0XTkho_HviqwLXAvnlKlHpO69NOuiYmJx-DUiaQvNlJVWKNoLxtqdH411f_Ht0pvKHXLz5bR-NyN5ZLFzhJVmrx5DirHCTZNO7n46txos0lwb7k9YkeKt7eBcearzYA/s1600/IMG_0846.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsEWbIwgY0XTkho_HviqwLXAvnlKlHpO69NOuiYmJx-DUiaQvNlJVWKNoLxtqdH411f_Ht0pvKHXLz5bR-NyN5ZLFzhJVmrx5DirHCTZNO7n46txos0lwb7k9YkeKt7eBcearzYA/s320/IMG_0846.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Is it hard to believe that people who live here feel like life is easy?</i></span> <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTdIR3Ejv3arCXUbAndOOt-k3UYX4W4jTF53ktJbUzHLHoGjk1Wp0UFoOj6AZ6pFb2MjDf-9VjEhBqto6VmnhgNX8qsZMyRDJdH_ASdPO0syt75YBVND1qs6AnvvWnH3w_Na3OWA/s1600/IMG_0855.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTdIR3Ejv3arCXUbAndOOt-k3UYX4W4jTF53ktJbUzHLHoGjk1Wp0UFoOj6AZ6pFb2MjDf-9VjEhBqto6VmnhgNX8qsZMyRDJdH_ASdPO0syt75YBVND1qs6AnvvWnH3w_Na3OWA/s320/IMG_0855.JPG" width="320" /></a></div> <span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>The halfway point between Moscow and Waterloo.</i></span><i><span style="font-size: x-small;"> </span></i>J. Powershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06591410044540441696noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35776353.post-31461205227202215152011-05-02T04:59:00.000-07:002011-05-02T04:59:42.634-07:00Portofino, ItalyIt may be true that the whole of the Italian riviera has only two looks: there are picturesque ex-farming villages perched atop bluffs overlooking the sea and there are quaint ex-fishing villages nestled in the tiny inlets between mountains. And that's about it. But that's enough, isn't it?<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3ujcZ1mL8nBe2B9WdjRlcL32ZKgoL9x6YuXRUx6p7wvl0902LvCBX8ykHrbtpRGToifr1TZmx0xgFbJ8ZWavjF922jIfLoToCe4NKkJdqxS3gWv2YVpkSDeNWmmaWmyqHhlCq3Q/s1600/IMG_0836.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3ujcZ1mL8nBe2B9WdjRlcL32ZKgoL9x6YuXRUx6p7wvl0902LvCBX8ykHrbtpRGToifr1TZmx0xgFbJ8ZWavjF922jIfLoToCe4NKkJdqxS3gWv2YVpkSDeNWmmaWmyqHhlCq3Q/s320/IMG_0836.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Not bad for a view from a seat at one of the cafés on the central square, eh?</i></span>J. Powershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06591410044540441696noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35776353.post-11278832238549448052011-05-01T02:41:00.000-07:002011-05-02T05:02:27.178-07:00You say nice, I say nieceNice, France: capital of the riviera:<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv3tCMUszgq74yj87W1RvJcYbjASgn9VtWNPNRaztZfiROc3569YEuHw6Ep_IpKlz0L0LqQDwPVJNb72xe53SP8GmrroKsaVnK1ojpK4mS7oyFR6YXzDYvuI_f2hVEeXj4hFl_cA/s1600/IMG_0779.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv3tCMUszgq74yj87W1RvJcYbjASgn9VtWNPNRaztZfiROc3569YEuHw6Ep_IpKlz0L0LqQDwPVJNb72xe53SP8GmrroKsaVnK1ojpK4mS7oyFR6YXzDYvuI_f2hVEeXj4hFl_cA/s320/IMG_0779.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;"></div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>OK, fine. I'll make the pun. It really is nice.</i></span><br />
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Naturally there's a gorgeous outdoor market, in which you can find the most amazing things.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNcue4yDeCC-L-ken6NUI_Z4lZsPEzL3N16T5XdNiWD8fc57_IfJq7mNOlb-qtPz7bt5Fa6hdKaSYEEkJ-3aZF1KfglMtRacK77jaygEzm76TwVVJWhLf4ZXJUR0hOQorN0uRwFQ/s1600/IMG_0770.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNcue4yDeCC-L-ken6NUI_Z4lZsPEzL3N16T5XdNiWD8fc57_IfJq7mNOlb-qtPz7bt5Fa6hdKaSYEEkJ-3aZF1KfglMtRacK77jaygEzm76TwVVJWhLf4ZXJUR0hOQorN0uRwFQ/s320/IMG_0770.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;"></div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Don't you know we're loco?</i></span><br />
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And of course there's the obligatory, over-touristy, but incredibly charming old quarter, which is what a late medieval city was like--minus the plague and plus a bunch of chi-chi restos.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqnMvOqxSqTSPU7GNWQSfsz1LdICx_k2NHh5glpG9dIR-tkga0cBc_9sBBhzqdjsGDeMZh7ZHja6c-vSnNLDAvTH2LR1RDEXCg4Ui02Ktb1QOsiX43amqkdpJCwBiLgTXsHuSdig/s1600/IMG_0796.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqnMvOqxSqTSPU7GNWQSfsz1LdICx_k2NHh5glpG9dIR-tkga0cBc_9sBBhzqdjsGDeMZh7ZHja6c-vSnNLDAvTH2LR1RDEXCg4Ui02Ktb1QOsiX43amqkdpJCwBiLgTXsHuSdig/s320/IMG_0796.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;"></div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Nothing like the Mediterranean sun to bring out everything's true colors.</i></span>J. Powershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06591410044540441696noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35776353.post-87816950629128550492011-01-06T14:40:00.000-08:002011-01-06T14:40:03.223-08:00The Decline and Fall of Montréal's Caffé Art JavaCaffé Art Java on Mont-Royal in Montréal was, when it first opened, our favorite cafe in the whole world. Great location; sleek, but inviting, ambiance; decent food; and mind-blowing lattés. What wasn't to like? We were steady-going regulars for years.<br />
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We were concerned when we learned the founders had sold the place, but we hoped the new owners would leave everything more or less untouched. And they mostly did. But things still started to slide. The new owners started advertising their menu using grainy photos--appropriate for late-night Chinese take-out, but not an upscale cafe. The kitchen and barista staff turned over almost immediately--to be replaced, we think, by the owners. And so the food became barely adequate and the coffee, frankly, went to hell.<br />
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We eventually stopped being regulars, but we still went every now and then because the ambiance was still great. Tonight was the final visit, though.<br />
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One of the owners just forced me to pay for a tisane that I never received. Several weeks ago, I ordered a tisane that never arrived at my table. I got so engrossed in my work that I didn't really notice; in fact, I only noticed that it hadn't arrived when it was time for me to pack it up and go. So I left, slightly miffed that I never got my tisane. Annoying, but mostly harmless and certainly innocent. It's the kind of brain fart that can happen to any server.<br />
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When I left this evening, however, the owner who was working the register presented me with two bills: one for this evening's tisane, and one for the tisane I never received. I protested, saying that I had never received the tisane. The owner insisted that she distinctly and specifically <i>remembered</i> preparing this tisane, which I never received. This went back and forth several times until I thought it had been made clear that if she made me pay for something I never received, I would never come back. The owner insisted, so I paid both tickets.<br />
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The owner's decision to push the issue over my strong protests (no matter what she does or doesn't remember) says everything that needs saying about the new management at Art Java. Maybe she thought she was being tough or something, but did she really think I was trying to wriggle out from paying $3? Does she not realize that she's basically calling me a liar and a thief? In any case, $3 is apparently more than my good opinion (which, at bottom, equates to all of the business they might ever get from me) is worth to them.<br />
<br />
So, do you think people willing to squeeze <i>regular customers</i> for three whole dollars might be willing to cut corners? Think they really care whether everything is fresh, clean, and of the best quality? Think they'll believe you if your drink or meal doesn't come out the way you ordered it? At Art Java, every penny counts--but every customer, not so much.J. Powershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06591410044540441696noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35776353.post-36650580793493631262011-01-01T08:02:00.000-08:002011-03-08T05:05:32.815-08:00Recommended Consultant for Senior Living OptionsIf you're a little overwhelmed by all the options available for senior living, and you're looking to retire in the US Northeast, give Perfect Placement Solutions a call. They're savvy, sympathetic, and they have a ton of experience in senior living.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://perfectplacementsolutions.com/">http://perfectplacementsolutions.com/</a><br />
<br />
(Full disclosure: our sister-in-law is one of the founding partners. We know these people well, and we recommend them highly.)J. Powershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06591410044540441696noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35776353.post-83923141019134934662010-02-04T07:18:00.000-08:002010-02-04T07:18:03.461-08:00Serious snow removalWhen it comes to winter, probably the only countries that have anything on Canada are Greenland and Russia. And that's only a maybe. I'm sure you think your winters are tough, but allow me to show you what snow removal looks like in Montréal (remember that Canada goes much, much further north than Montréal):<br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/powersmitchell/4304335912/" title="20100104 MTL snow removal-6 by powersmitchell, on Flickr"><img alt="20100104 MTL snow removal-6" height="167" src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4029/4304335912_46f4131c19_b.jpg" /></a> <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/powersmitchell/4303590869/" title="20100104 MTL snow removal-5 by powersmitchell, on Flickr"><img alt="20100104 MTL snow removal-5" height="167" src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4049/4303590869_dd78b88c7a_b.jpg" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>That's a tractor equipped with a snowblower the size of a sofa. A big sofa.</i></span><br />
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First, they plow the snow. Then they remove the snow. Because it won't melt (much) and there's so much of it things would get seriously disrupted after the second or third storm.<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/powersmitchell/4304332776/" title="20100104 MTL snow removal-4 by powersmitchell, on Flickr"><img alt="20100104 MTL snow removal-4" height="167" src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4005/4304332776_44d1443f13_b.jpg" /></a> <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/powersmitchell/4303586369/" title="20100104 MTL snow removal-2 by powersmitchell, on Flickr"><img alt="20100104 MTL snow removal-2" height="167" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2721/4303586369_552d44a9cc_b.jpg" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>They fill hundreds of these trucks. Hundreds. Each snowfall.</i></span><br />
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And did I mention that I have to walk to school uphill both ways? ;)J. Powershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06591410044540441696noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35776353.post-70142194620266622762009-08-12T05:50:00.000-07:002009-08-31T21:31:08.791-07:00Avoid Toqué! in Montreal<span style="font-weight: bold;">Executive Summary</span><br />
While the service and wines at Toqué! in Montreal were excellent and the ambiance inoffensive, the food was for the most part pretentious, awkward, and poorly executed. Definitely <span style="font-style: italic;">not</span> worth the price or the fuss. Your money will be better spent and your appetite better sated elsewhere. More specifically, we suffered from amateurish dish conception, improperly cooked beef, and a pair of unrepented choke-bones. We essentially laid out a few hundred dollars for several glassfuls of good wine, several platefuls of frustration, and the sure knowledge that <span style="font-style: italic;">chef de cuisine</span> Normand Laprise and his staff--notwithstanding their talent, training, and untrammeled access to high-quality ingredients--<span style="font-style: italic;">do not give a damn </span>about your experience, your good opinion, or your second visit.<br />
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<span style="font-weight: bold;">Overview</span><br />
(My dining companion and I ordered the tasting menu with wine. I have detailed notes for each course below. The courses are numbered according to the order in which they made their appearance. I have rated each course individually on a scale of one to five; the rating key is at the bottom of this post.)<br />
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Although I had heard about Toqué! years ago, I postponed my first encounter with Montreal's most highly reputed eatery for an appropriately special occasion. Opportunity presented itself in the form of a cross-continent visit from my brother, who is a professional cook in the San Francisco Bay areal. To my chagrin, our overpriced and over-hyped meal at Toqué! served as his introduction to Montreal's fine dining scene.<br />
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I visited the restaurant's website as a prelude to our dinner, and I found there a promise that<span style="font-style: italic;"> chef de cuisine</span> Normand Laprise will deliver "surprise after surprise to your table" during the seven-course tasting menu. While M. Laprise certainly did surprise us, I am sad to report that few of the surprises were pleasant ones. Take, for example, the choke-bones we found in the charcuterie plate (#4). Surprising, certainly; pleasant, not so much. Now, bones are not supposed to leave the kitchen, but it can happen. You generally let the kitchen know about it in the spirit of helping them prevent it from happening again. And the chef (or sous-chef) generally apologizes in a spirit of contrition. We found two bones: I found one in my stewed rabbit, and my brother found one in his pancetta. Our server apologized perfunctorily, but we never heard anything from the kitchen or from management. Nothing. Not even a word. Thus the most unexpected surprise delivered to our table that evening turned out to be a crucial truth about Toqué!: M. Laprise and his staff may have talent, training, and high-quality ingredients, but they <span style="font-style: italic;">could care less </span>about your experience, your good opinion, or your second visit.<br />
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<span style="font-weight: bold;">Meal Notes</span><br />
Overall, M. Laprise's food is long on presentation, but short on grace, empathy, and (unforgivably) flavor. Chefs like to say that you eat with your eyes first, but M. Laprise has apparently forgotten that this is merely a figure of speech. Most of the dishes on the tasting menu were self-indulgent spectacles of fastidious preparation that simply didn't taste all that good. There were highlights, but tellingly, the two tastiest dishes in our meal (#0, #2) were the plainest visually.<br />
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The quality of the food was wildly inconsistent, and M. Laprise and his team put on a impressive spectacle, making just about every mistake it's possible to make in a professional kitchen at least once during the meal. Two dishes were under-salted (#1, #3), yet one was over-salted (#5), meaning that these problems are not simply a difference of taste. One dish was over-peppered (#1). One dish defied the law of noncontradiction by being simultaneously over- and under-cooked (#5). Several of the dishes were poorly conceived, making them unpleasantly difficult to eat. One dish challenged the eater's dexterity and composure (#1) and two dishes comprised such a bewildering farrago of components that it was impossible to know how the chef meant them to be eaten (#3, #4). And so perhaps the most damning thing that can be said of M. Laprise is that he is not idle.<br />
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(#0) <u><span style="font-style: italic;">Amuse-bouche</span>: sweet corn and celery-rabe mousse</u>. {****} The <span style="font-style: italic;">amuse</span> was served as a soup: several mouthfuls of foamy liquid that had to be spooned out of a large bowl. It was thus much larger than the single bite one expects as an <span style="font-style: italic;">amuse</span>. Also, it wasn't at all acidic, which is usually best for kicking off a meal. These criticisms were rendered largely irrelevant by the single, simple fact that it was wonderfully tasty. Topped with a daub of melted butter, the <span style="font-style: italic;">amuse</span> was essentially several spoonfuls of liquid, salty, delicately creamy-sweet popcorn.<br />
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(#1) <u>Tuna-wrapped crostini with lime mayonnaise</u>. {*} The first course was a single crostini wrapped with paper-thin strips of beautifully marbled fatty tuna, which was then dusted with chili powder and pepper. The crostini arrived at the table in a small bowl, leaning its hip against the inside edge. At the bottom of the bowl was a layer of lime-infused mayonnaise topped with some fresh arugula sprouts. This dish was a big disappointment: the chili and pepper overwhelmed the tuna, and the dish tasted under-seasoned despite the presence of what should have been a happy marriage of flavors because there just wasn't enough salt. Using a prosciutto instead of tuna may have been more predictable, but it certainly would have tasted better. This dish was also difficult and a little embarrassing to eat, because it's impossible to snip tuna fat with your teeth. Each bite engendered a tug-of-war between the crositini and my mouth, with the fish strung out between. We were left with the ugly impression that the chef had never simply tried to <span style="font-style: italic;">eat</span> this dish in its finished form.<br />
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(#2) <u>Scallop, cheese, and bacon tartelette</u>. {*****} There's a grizzled old culinary rule that one should never combine seafood and cheese. We were delighted to discover that M. Laprise had broken it. This is dish was a thoughtful, playful, and scrumptious reinterpretation an an Alsatian classic. Potatoes replace the crust in this tartelette, which is then filled with in a bacon, cheese, and scallops. The potatoes, astonishingly, add air and lightness. Despite its innocuous appearance, this was a impressively accomplished and satisfying dish. High cuisine at its very best.<br />
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(#3) <u>Mackerel and summer vegetables</u>. {*} The slender half-fillet of mackerel arrived on a capacious plate, dressed with an understated sweet soy sauce, and surrounded by a carnival of seasonal fruits and vegetables. We counted not less than 14 (!) distinctly prepared and presented components on the plate, not including two pinches of different chili powders and what we believe was a smear of pesto. Of all the dishes we were served, this was the most infuriating. Everything on the plate was well cooked, but it was impossible to grasp how the chef thought the dish should be eaten. It was as though the chef had made a trip to Jean-Talon Market, purchased a bit of everything, and then asked <span style="font-style: italic;">us</span> to decide how it ought to be eaten. Are the chili powders and the pesto for the fish or the vegetables? Which seasoning with which vegetable? Are the vegetables to be eaten with the fish or with each other? It's unsurprising that anyone should be dazzled by Montreal's <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/tags/jeantalon/">local produce</a> (I know I am), but it's flat out amateurish simply to serve a plate of bewildering options to your patrons.<br />
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(#4) <u>Charcuterie plate with sausage, stewed rabbit, pancetta, and black trumpet mushrooms</u>. {**} This plate was another visual and gustatory train-wreck, with too many components creating too many options. The stewed rabbit was adequate, the pancetta was... well, it was bacon, and the black trumpets were inexplicable. The small portion of sausage, however, dressed with what we think was a strawberry and balsamic reduction, was divine; those two bites of sausage were two of the most transcendentally perfect mouthfuls I've ever had. (This dish gets one star for each bite of that sausage.) I'd really like the chef to explain why he chose to dilute transcendent perfection. Everything else on the plate just got in the way. Especially the bones; both my brother and I found bones in our meat. I found one in my rabbit, and my brother one in his pancetta. Now, bones are not supposed to leave the kitchen, but it can happen. You generally let the kitchen know about it in the spirit of helping them prevent it from happening again. And the chef (or sous-chef) generally apologizes in a spirit of contrition. We found two of them. Our server apologized perfunctorily, but we never heard anything from the kitchen or from management. Nothing. Not even a simple request for our forbearance. M. Laprise and his staff may have talent, training, and fabulous ingredients, but they evidently <span style="font-style: italic;">do not care </span>about your experience, your good opinion, or your second visit.<br />
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(#5) <u>Seared Kobe beef with a baby leek</u>. {*} This was the first dish ever served to me at a fine dining establishment that I actually sent back to the kitchen unfinished. (My brother sent his back as well.) Amazingly, even after the choke-bones from the previous course, sending back a half-eaten cut of Kobe beef provoked no response from the kitchen. Continuing with the <span style="font-style: italic;">tour de force</span> of sauces, the steak and leek were dressed with an excellent veal-stock reduction featuring (we think) blueberries and beets. The baby leek was so forgettable I already can't remember it. The beef was improperly cooked: excessively charred on the outside so that it tasted strongly of charcoal (not just a hint--strongly) and underdone on the inside (I like my steak bloody, but this meat was so raw it was stringy). The steak was also inexcusably over-salted. To add insult to injury, this ultra-rare steak was served without a steak knife, forcing me to hack and saw at it with my butter knife.<br />
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(#6) <u>Lightly melted cheese over summer vegetables</u>. {***} A simple, tasty cheese course: sweet yellow tomatoes and summer squash covered with a blanket of slightly melted cheese, dressed with fresh herbs and blueberry vinegar. Unremarkable except for the blueberry vinegar, which was utterly extraordinary. Another instance in which the best item on the plate got lost in the effort to impress the diner with packaging.<br />
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(#7) <u>Dessert: Raspberry tart and blackberry sorbet</u>. {**} The simple tart comprised some fresh raspberries, whipped cream, and pancake crisps, all of which were stacked together to form a little tower. The scoop of blackberry sorbet at the other end of the long plate was well made, perfectly shaped, and rather dull. One welcome surprise was the presence of tiny clippings of fresh, fragrant herbs beneath and over the whipped cream, each of which provided a startling little burst of flavor in an otherwise relatively bland dish. While the presentation was pleasantly whimsical, the dessert amounted to little more than fresh berries with a few accompaniments. Not that I don't like fresh berries, but I expect a great chef to use his skills to <span style="font-style: italic;">improve</span> his ingredients--not simply to re-label them.<br />
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<span style="font-weight: bold;">Rating Key</span>:<br />
{*****} Superlative: inspired, astonishing, and just plain <span style="font-style: italic;">delicious</span>.<br />
{****} Good: creative, fun, and tasty.<br />
{***} Acceptable: competent, but I wouldn't order it again.<br />
{**} Fails to suck: inoffensively forgettable.<br />
{*} Sucks: never should have left the kitchen.J. Powershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06591410044540441696noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35776353.post-69443745460034279802009-06-24T18:44:00.000-07:002009-06-24T19:21:36.480-07:00Vive le Quebec!I love a parade. Ever since my childhood in the days when the local floats and firetrucks would throw candy to the children (before we worried that the candy might be tainted), I have loved watching bands, cheerleaders, and random assemblies of uniformed individuals march past. So you may naturally be surprised that in my four years in Quebec, I have never gone to the parade for St. Jean Baptiste... until today.<br /><br />But first, a little history... The festival for <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/F%C3%AAte_nationale_du_Qu%C3%A9bec">St. Jean Baptiste</a> is also known as the <a href="http://www.fetenationale.qc.ca/">Fete Nationale du Quebec</a>. Even those of you not fluent in French may be wondering... the <span style="font-style: italic;">National </span>Holiday of Quebec? I thought Quebec was only a province, not a nation? Well, according to our fair Prime Minister Stephen Harper among others, <a href="http://www.cbc.ca/news/background/parliament39/quebecnation-reaction.html">Quebec is a great nation within a united Canada</a>. As far as I'm concerned, if this language makes the separatists feel better, so be it.<br /><br />Even though I'm not a big flag waver, I am a big fan of this province where I live, so I dressed MGP for the occassion.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK1XuDv3X-BrVfCnpMs1GOUsdgALsF9uxvup0TGqyALdy0HiIXtjEEJdjBS_d0dRwMei4LR2_PtKJ7RHLny7EXmBJWivuzKHrVeamyx8dNO3oDK03xh5MI2omnRt3qG37u0US3/s1600-h/DSCF2071.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK1XuDv3X-BrVfCnpMs1GOUsdgALsF9uxvup0TGqyALdy0HiIXtjEEJdjBS_d0dRwMei4LR2_PtKJ7RHLny7EXmBJWivuzKHrVeamyx8dNO3oDK03xh5MI2omnRt3qG37u0US3/s320/DSCF2071.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351080385769599154" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Papa looks on as Mitch kicks around wearing his "Fait au Quebec" (made in Quebec) bib. </span> </span><br /><br />Then off we went to watch the festivities. We saw large effigies of some of Quebec's best known leaders.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirpyjXEfpFLx_vTf5UqSO3oDlebJo_fYg03RR63ONsV4CwQjxHCXLfVaLbTuN4_rcVjiU6BkNUryE0RXzWhv7e4uqtZ1bwMA9qJt7pFaa_mw1Wsnc8BvxA7VicweNHKfjk9drx/s1600-h/DSCF2083.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirpyjXEfpFLx_vTf5UqSO3oDlebJo_fYg03RR63ONsV4CwQjxHCXLfVaLbTuN4_rcVjiU6BkNUryE0RXzWhv7e4uqtZ1bwMA9qJt7pFaa_mw1Wsnc8BvxA7VicweNHKfjk9drx/s320/DSCF2083.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351082633402741394" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">That's a 30-foot effigy of <a href="http://www.thecanadianencyclopedia.com/index.cfm?PgNm=TCE&Params=a1ARTA0004657">Rene Levesque</a> on the right - and probably the only time he's been seen without a cigarette. </span></span><br /><br />But then Mitch got a bit overheated, so we needed to head into the shade and take in some cool breezes:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmPPuqAyoOfd_OtKZFSFitaaEeZrmqfh9I-66RYdstwj8ItNpLF92GYmLH50qcz8dcJ7ERoIQYzye4VPrg7mdETQjacUNdm_kYuUE739lgdBif-2NeaShMJJRCxWuXweaFfZgm/s1600-h/DSCF2126.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmPPuqAyoOfd_OtKZFSFitaaEeZrmqfh9I-66RYdstwj8ItNpLF92GYmLH50qcz8dcJ7ERoIQYzye4VPrg7mdETQjacUNdm_kYuUE739lgdBif-2NeaShMJJRCxWuXweaFfZgm/s320/DSCF2126.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351083007824104850" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" >"Mama, I'm hot. And I don't </span><span style="font-size:85%;">just </span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" >mean good looking..."</span><br /><br />And finally, after gazing at such a handsome baby all afternoon, I saw Quebec nationalism looking for a place on the "don't wear this" section of the style page:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia0rHvq6R0uzK_FYTO3mg3DeOvIq_jvqZi_XdtZPQssKBbNtckBcZow0a2Py5xXY8Sa5HwBlacyNd2PkLegSw1o0NkbufzRzDufO-3TUZHp3cKxQqGmaDhVO0PJFTqvRi0kLQD/s1600-h/DSCF2127.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia0rHvq6R0uzK_FYTO3mg3DeOvIq_jvqZi_XdtZPQssKBbNtckBcZow0a2Py5xXY8Sa5HwBlacyNd2PkLegSw1o0NkbufzRzDufO-3TUZHp3cKxQqGmaDhVO0PJFTqvRi0kLQD/s320/DSCF2127.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351081880757946290" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Quebec pride meets Cat in the Hat. </span></span>HLMPhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10041774762345222943noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35776353.post-68908108285847812312009-01-12T07:05:00.000-08:002009-01-12T07:16:03.395-08:00Trending greenOn a recent trip to IKEA, J and I noticed that our favorite Swedish retailer maintains their policy of charging for plastic bags. In this morning, I was tickled to note that <a href="http://www.loblaws.ca/">one of our favorite Canadian grocers</a> is doing the same, and <a href="http://business.theglobeandmail.com/servlet/story/RTGAM.20090109.wdiscussionloblaw0111/BNStory/Business/?page=rss&id=RTGAM.20090109.wdiscussionloblaw0111">will charge five cents per plastic bag</a>. While Loblaws is making a preemptive strike before the by-laws of the City of Toronto are amended, I'm still delighted by the change. J and I shop regularly at <a href="http://www.provigo.ca/qcen/default.aspx">Provigo</a>, which is part of the Loblaws company, and we've finally mastered the Canadian pronunciation with the emphasis on the first syllable as opposed to the second. It only took us three years! <br /><br />If you want to see what bébé Powers probably looks like this week, check <a href="http://3dpregnancy.parentsconnect.com/calendar/34-weeks-pregnant.html">this</a> out. I can definitely confirm that we have a very active little one!HLMPhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10041774762345222943noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35776353.post-22580998981982961422008-11-20T10:21:00.000-08:002008-11-20T10:41:58.120-08:00Supremely smart or supremely silly?As many of you will have noticed, J and I love posting about nuances that highlight the <a href="http://trufflewarren.blogspot.com/2008/02/dont-mess-with-canada.html">differences between Canada and the U.S.</a> Some days I'm delighted by the differences, other days I shake my head in dismay. Today, I have had both reactions to two separate rulings by the <a href="http://www.scc-csc.gc.ca/home-accueil/index-eng.asp">Supreme Court of Canada</a>.<br /><br />In <a href="http://ca.news.yahoo.com/s/reuters/081120/canada/canada_us_obesity">one ruling</a>, they have declared that people who are "functionally disabled by obesity" have the right to two seats on an airplane. In this case, I'm decidedly pro-business - if you need two seats, you should purchase two seats.<br /><br />In <a href="http://www.theglobeandmail.com/servlet/story/RTGAM.20081120.wclassactn1120/BNStory/National/?page=rss&id=RTGAM.20081120.wclassactn1120">the other ruling</a>, they have declared that businesses are accountable to their communities for the environmental damage they cause, <span style="font-style: italic;">even if the damage is within legal limits</span>. <span style="font-style: italic;"></span>This level of accountability ensures that the limits for what damages are acceptable are dynamic (rather than being slowly updated by public boards) and that corporations are directly responsible to their communities. Bravo! (Or should I say Brava! to our female <a href="http://www.scc-csc.gc.ca/details/bmclachlin-eng.asp">Chief Justice</a>?)<br /><br />What do you think? Should obese people be entitled to two airline seats? And should companies be held to an environmental standard that is beyond the letter of the law?HLMPhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10041774762345222943noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35776353.post-29080821283924148372008-11-13T16:49:00.000-08:002008-11-13T17:01:15.555-08:00Yet another reason to live north of the borderSome of dear readers in the good old U.S. of A. are probably grateful that their <a href="http://recession.org/library/fdic-bank-failure-watch-list">bank deposits</a> are insured. In Canada, we have <a href="http://www.time.com/time/business/article/0,8599,1855317,00.html">no such fear</a>.<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/powersmitchell/3028803006/" title="Bank Run by powersmitchell, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3296/3028803006_c23e8147ef_o.jpg" alt="Bank Run" width="320" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Not Canada.</span></span><br /><br />And have we mentioned <a href="http://www.canadiancrc.com/Newspaper_Articles/Globe_and_Mail_The_Daddy_Shift_STATSCAN_Fathers_parental_leave_24JUN08.aspx">Quebec's paternity benefits program</a>?J. Powershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06591410044540441696noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35776353.post-68207160639883596772008-11-09T16:04:00.000-08:002008-11-09T16:49:49.988-08:00Another introductionWhen considering starting a family, many couples get a <a href="http://icanhascheezburger.com/">cat</a> or a dog to try out the responsibility of having a dependent. After the past summer of taking care of <a href="http://trufflewarren.blogspot.com/2008/07/introducing-fiorella.html">Fiorella</a>, J and I have begun the journey toward having more responsibility together...<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/powersmitchell/3016725295/" title="Peanut 4 Body Profile by powersmitchell, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3176/3016725295_b7f9f14c50.jpg" alt="Peanut 4 Body Profile" width="500" height="383" /></a><br /><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" >Profile shot</span><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/powersmitchell/3016719181/" title="Peanut 3 Body Profile by powersmitchell, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3249/3016719181_17143d040f.jpg" alt="Peanut 3 Body Profile" width="500" height="386" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Check out those big, beautiful lips</span></span><br /><br />A couple more photos can be found on our <a href="http://flickr.com/photos/powersmitchell/">Flickr</a> account, which we'll be updating shortly with some more photos of us.<br /><br />After getting opinions from many friends, we decided to leave the sex of the baby a surprise. Since J and I have had names picked out since we were dating, we're enjoying the mystery of not knowing whether we're having a boy or a girl. We're also getting a big kick out of signing the little one up on <a href="http://www.cbc.ca/canada/story/2003/11/13/daycare_quebec031113.html">daycare</a> <a href="http://www.freewebs.com/beingaparentinquebec/daycareinquebec.htm">waitlists</a> under the nom de plume, "Bébé Powers." Go ahead and say it with a French accent - I bet that it will make you giggle, too.<br /><br />Have a guess for the baby's birthdate and sex? We'll find a suitable prize for the person who leaves a comment with the correct guess for gender and the closest guess for birth date and time. (Bébé Powers is scheduled to arrive on 28 February.)HLMPhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10041774762345222943noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35776353.post-27095677850601307302008-07-09T17:24:00.001-07:002008-07-10T04:14:11.730-07:00Introducing FiorellaGoodness, are there people that still read this blog? Thank you for not giving up on us.<br /><br />While J has been <a href="http://flickr.com/photos/powersmitchell/sets/72157605537553533/">gallivanting around Europe</a>, I've been tooling around Montreal more fashionably than ever.<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/powersmitchell/2614433681/" title="20080621 H and Fiorella-11 by powersmitchell, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3214/2614433681_17dccbb4c3_m.jpg" alt="20080621 H and Fiorella-11" height="320" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Introducing Fiorella.</span></span><br /><br />Fiorella is a dragon red Vespa LX 50. She gets up to about 55 kmph going downhill, a gazillion kilometers to the liter, and lots of looks and stares as we drive through Montreal. I bought her from a delightful woman in Toronto who had won her in a contest and wasn't interested in keeping her. After the big adventure of getting her back to Montreal with me, it was time to name her. She needed have an Italian name, and Fiorella (which means <span style="font-style: italic;">little flower</span>) won.<br /><br />And, if Fio isn't cute enough for you, J and I even got matching helmets...<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/powersmitchell/2614442153/" title="20080621 H and Fiorella-6 by powersmitchell, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3073/2614442153_930dd3f1c5.jpg" alt="20080621 H and Fiorella-6" width="320" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Don't make me hit the horn. You won't like the sound of my horn.<br /></span></span><br /><span style="font-size:100%;">We have two helmets, so that you can take a spin with us when you come to visit. Just make sure to work on your obligatory shoulder shimmies in advance...</span><br /><object width="320"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/BT8Qn5d_G20&hl=en&fs=1&rel=0&color1=0x3a3a3a&color2=0x999999&border=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/BT8Qn5d_G20&hl=en&fs=1&rel=0&color1=0x3a3a3a&color2=0x999999&border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" height="349" width="425"></embed></object><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-size:85%;">Play it. You know you want to.</span></span>HLMPhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10041774762345222943noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35776353.post-91459479873684885272008-02-28T17:19:00.000-08:002008-03-06T20:03:28.293-08:00Don't mess with CanadaU.S. Democratic presidential hopefuls Clinton and Obama have been <a href="http://www.salon.com/tech/htww/2008/02/25/clinton_obama_and_nafta/">sparring about NAFTA</a> lately as they each try to gain ground in Ohio. Both parties have suggested the possibility of "renegotiating NAFTA" to a greater or lesser extent. Sometimes US elected officials, like all USians, I suppose, seem to forget that the rest of the world has ears. And newspapers. And <a href="http://www.theglobeandmail.com/servlet/story/LAC.20080228.NAFTAOTTAWASB28_ART_2238/TPStory/National">oil</a>.<br /><br />Wouldn't you know it? The US's largest supplier of oil isn't Saudi Arabia--it's Canada. Care to guess what kind of import taxes we levy in Canadian oil? That's right: zero. Care to guess why? That's right: NAFTA. If the US starts messing with NAFTA, don't be surprised if Canada starts talking about China's virtues as a trading partner.<br /><br />Oh, and incidentally, every time you fill up your tank, you contribute to the <a href="http://www.theglobeandmail.com/oilsands">scourging of Canada</a>. Calgary may get richer for a while off this stuff, but the sheer scale of the environmental catastrophe unfolding in Alberta's oil patch beggars the imagination.<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/powersmitchell/2299466916/" title="Oil Sand Trucks by powersmitchell, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2027/2299466916_3a1edbd03b_o.jpg" alt="Oil Sand Trucks" width="320" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Each truck: 3369.99 hp, 380 ton capacity, 47' x 30' x 21': roughly </span></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">the size of 1-bedroom apartment</span></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">.</span></span>J. Powershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06591410044540441696noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35776353.post-74120709564171131602008-02-09T14:32:00.000-08:002008-02-10T09:14:08.901-08:00Maple syrup nationBeing somewhat more travel-prone than your average bloggers, we TruffleWarreners absolutely<span style="font-style: italic;"> love</span> maps.<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/powersmitchell/2253708374/" title="Carte Montréal 1843 by powersmitchell, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2309/2253708374_9f365df0b7_o.jpg" alt="Carte Montréal 1843" width="400" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Old maps of Montréal.</span></span><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/powersmitchell/2254653643/" title="Acupuncture Maps by powersmitchell, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2150/2254653643_d4aab46a15_o.jpg" alt="Acupuncture Maps" height="400" /></a><br /><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" >Taoist maps of the human body.</span><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/powersmitchell/2253699754/" title="Map of Online Communities by powersmitchell, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2109/2253699754_f0d349d28d_o.jpg" alt="Map of Online Communities" width="400" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Silly maps of the internet.</span></span><br /><br />Give us an adjective, we've got a map to match. Try us. We dare you. And if you think we aren't ready for you, just chew on this: we've even got a maple syrup map. Well, actually it's a food traditions map, but, well... just look for yourself:<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/powersmitchell/2252008081/" title="NA Place-Based Food Traditions Map by powersmitchell, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2094/2252008081_ee7c486e7a_o.jpg" alt="NA Place-Based Food Traditions Map" width="320" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">The maple syrup nation self-evidently has a <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Manifest_destiny">manifest destiny</a> to engulf the continent.</span></span><br /><br />In all honesty, I had never really thought of maple syrup as the basis of a food culture. H assures me that it is--but then, H argues with some earnest that maple syrup qualifies as its own food group. <span style="font-style: italic;">Moi, je suis sceptique</span>. After all, the <a href="http://www.environment.nau.edu/raft/what.htm">same authority</a> from which we're deriving the very concept of the maple syrup nation also indicates the existence of a clambake nation and a pinyon nut nation. So count me skeptical... but tickled.J. Powershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06591410044540441696noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35776353.post-90929043366194085622008-02-05T05:54:00.001-08:002008-02-05T09:17:13.018-08:00Super TuesdayFor better or for worse, J and I aren't the greatest about timely blog posting. If anything, we <a href="http://trufflewarren.blogspot.com/2007/06/how-many-geraniums-would-your-town-have.html">pre-date </a>a number of posts to fit properly in within our adventure calendar. But I read a very interesting thing in the <a href="http://www.canada.com/montrealgazette/index.html"><span style="font-style: italic;">Montreal Gazette</span></a> <a href="http://www.canada.com/montrealgazette/story.html?id=9066cff7-4018-42e4-a204-f52ceac2f305">today</a>:<br /><blockquote>Most Canadians would back Hillary Clinton in this year's United States presidential race, and nearly one in six would forfeit their right to vote in the next federal election for a chance to sway the result across the border, polls indicated yesterday.</blockquote>There are approximately 30 million Canadians, so that is 5 million Canadians who would rather vote in this U.S. election than vote for <a href="http://pm.gc.ca/eng/default.asp">Stephen Harper</a>'s successor. When I mentioned this to J, he said it was like Americans wanting to vote in China because of their size and growing global influence. But then, there are <a href="http://abcnews.go.com/US/Story?id=3326018&page=1">Chinese that are voting in the U.S.</a>, too, and they need a bit of help to get the candidate's names right.<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/powersmitchell/2243616399/" title="Candidates chinese rep by powersmitchell, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2050/2243616399_5999e78929_o.jpg" alt="Candidates chinese rep" height="320" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Most Canadians would opt for "Tired Forest," while I would support "Profound Horse." </span></span><br /><br />May the best woman, man, or horse win!HLMPhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10041774762345222943noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35776353.post-15859135279416272952008-02-02T16:44:00.001-08:002008-02-02T17:20:43.694-08:00Carpe diem, travellers!H and I know that most of you out there are daring and imaginative adventurers. Sometimes, though, even the daring and imaginative among us needs a little inspiration. If the travel bug is nibbling you, but you're quite sure exactly where to go to scratch that itch, try browsing <a href="http://www.1000beforeyoudie.com/">1000 Places to See Before You Die</a>. (Apparently, the website represents an adjunct to <a type="amzn" isbn="0761104844">the book</a> of the same title, which started the whole 1000-before-you-die phenomenon.)<br /><br />To be completely honest, I've never even heard of the book, let alone the "phenomenon," but the website contains scads of great travel ideas. Talk about spectacular destinations... You're sure to find inspiration--if not a complete itinerary--<a href="http://www.1000beforeyoudie.com/">here</a>.<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/powersmitchell/559316694/" title="20070607 Trip to Strasbourg-009 by powersmitchell, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1304/559316694_35fdefd88e_b.jpg" alt="20070607 Trip to Strasbourg-009" width="174" /></a> <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/powersmitchell/559961771/" title="20070613 Route du vin-140 by powersmitchell, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1310/559961771_982e61eff7_b.jpg" alt="20070613 Route du vin-140" width="174" /></a><br /><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" >We humbly submit that a sojourn in <a href="http://trufflewarren.blogspot.com/2007/06/corks-and-storks.html">Alsace</a> , dividing your time between <a href="http://trufflewarren.blogspot.com/2007/06/triumphant-return-no-1.html">Strasbourg</a> and the </span><span style="font-size:85%;"><a href="http://trufflewarren.blogspot.com/2007/06/la-route-du-vin.html">route du vin</a></span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" >, is worthy of before-you-die attention.</span><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/powersmitchell/565962755/" title="20070616 Trip to Prague-012 by powersmitchell, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1410/565962755_eb693e5d9a_b.jpg" alt="20070616 Trip to Prague-012" height="167" /></a> <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/powersmitchell/660242758/" title="20070625 Czech301 by powersmitchell, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1409/660242758_912ac1d5fc_b.jpg" alt="20070625 Czech301" height="167" /></a><br /><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" >And you're just kidding yourself if <a href="http://trufflewarren.blogspot.com/2007/06/hey-mikey-he-likes-it.html">Prague</a> isn't on your list.</span><br /><br />I'm a little embarrassed (on their behalf) to have to report that they're still working up the whole user interactivity thing. If I'm behind on travel book trends, at least I'm not suffering from severe lag when it comes to <a href="http://www.oreillynet.com/pub/a/oreilly/tim/news/2005/09/30/what-is-web-20.html">internet trends</a>. But, even if your own suggestions as to which places are visiting before you die won't get screen time, you can at least still profit from theirs.J. Powershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06591410044540441696noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35776353.post-32379456492549341822008-01-26T11:17:00.000-08:002008-01-29T11:57:32.362-08:00The city's hall speaksContemporary North American city dwellers, though we have more than enough to <a href="http://trufflewarren.blogspot.com/2007/09/better-living-through-tomatoes.html">feed our stomachs</a>, have precious little upon which to feast our eyes. Generally accustomed to the banal <a href="http://skyscraperpage.com/">concrete, glass, and steel designs</a> which constitute the unintended legacy the <a href="http://architecture.about.com/od/20thcenturytrends/ig/Modern-Architecture/Bauhaus.htm">Bauhaus's</a> so-called "<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/International_style_%28architecture%29">International Style</a>," we have limited experience with cityscapes which evoke simple delight and honest pleasure.<br /><br />Which is reason number 24 gazillion why we're lucky to live in Montréal. Certainly the city has <a href="http://www.imtl.org/montreal/template.php?Montreal=Gratte-ciel&TYPE=1">its share</a> of <a href="http://trufflewarren.blogspot.com/2007/03/another-design-committee-wtf.html">BSSs</a>; it also its share of the good stuff. Imagine, if you will, that <span style="font-style: italic;">this</span> is your City Hall.<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/powersmitchell/2228138749/" title="Boston City Hall by powersmitchell, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2129/2228138749_4eb593d416_b.jpg" alt="Boston City Hall" width="320" /></a><br /><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" >Now, if that doesn't say "<a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0471675512?ie=UTF8&tag=powersmitchell-20&linkCode=as2&camp=1789&creative=9325&creativeASIN=0471675512">Cradle of Liberty</a>," I don't know what does.</span><br /><br />Whoops! Sorry! That's <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Boston_City_Hall"><span style="font-style: italic;">Boston's</span> City Hall</a>. Not exactly what I was intending, but while the photo's up there, I might as well make use of it. Officially, Boston's City Hall is in the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Brutalist_architecture">brutalist</a> style (yes, there really is an architectural style called <span style="font-style: italic;">brutalism</span>--technically derived from the French for concrete: <span style="font-style: italic;">béton brute</span>). Personally, however, I've always thought that a more accurate description of the building's style would be <span style="font-style: italic;">man-the-battlements-the-citizens-are-approaching!</span>--but maybe that's a bit bombastic. Whatever we call it, doesn't it just make your inner architect swoon? (On the other hand, maybe your inner architect is just suffering from another bout of <span style="font-style: italic;">who-the-hell-authorizes-this-stuff</span>. Your mileage may vary.)<br /><br />But back to Montréal. As I was saying: Imagine, if you will, that <span style="font-style: italic;">this</span> is your City Hall.<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/powersmitchell/2227986115/" title="Montréal Hôtel de Ville 001 by powersmitchell, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2377/2227986115_0de0a39718_b.jpg" alt="Montréal Hôtel de Ville 001" width="320" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">I'll concede that it resembles <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/powersmitchell/2228265467/">Vincent Price</a> if you'll concede that there are <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/powersmitchell/2228279341/">worse</a> architectural muses.</span></span><br /><br />Not that it's perfect, but it would be hard to argue that <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Montreal_City_Hall">Montréal's Hôtel de Ville</a> isn't impressive, dramatic, and even beautiful in its overwrought way. Basically, then, H and I moved from a city where the municipal government hunkers in a brutalist fortress with Soviet overtones to a city where the municipal government cavorts in a <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Second_Empire">Second Empire</a> wedding cake with drama-queen lighting. It's not like this is the only domain in which <a href="http://brianx.com/brmtlvsbstn.html">Montréal surpasses Boston</a>, but it's definitely one of the most spectacular.J. Powershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06591410044540441696noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35776353.post-13511764932384395662008-01-21T22:12:00.000-08:002008-02-02T18:37:58.177-08:00Hours of superpowersH and I believe--good optimists that we are--that every person possesses at least one superpower. Our friends JD and JB, for example, are able to throw <a href="http://trufflewarren.blogspot.com/2007/09/john-wayne-and-cape.html">epic parties</a> at will. Our friend CE bakes the <a href="http://trufflewarren.blogspot.com/2007/02/friday-ritual-found.html">world's best bread</a>--without a recipe. Even I have a superpower: I can seduce women more superpowerful than myself at will. I can even get them to <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/powersmitchell/sets/72157600634506946/">marry me</a>.<br /><br />Of all H's superpowers--and I assure you that she has many--my favorite is unusual in that it seems to require study. Not that H isn't innately talented, but I caught her reading up on how to enhance her already impressive abilities during our weekly trip to <a href="http://www.banq.qc.ca/">the library</a>.<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/powersmitchell/2228775956/" title="Superpower Study by powersmitchell, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2097/2228775956_9a54499459_b.jpg" alt="Superpower Study" height="320" /></a><br /><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" >It won't be long before companies start </span><span style="font-size:85%;">paying her</span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" > to use their products.</span><br /><br />Watch out <a type="amzn" asin="0060542578">Hetty Green</a>!J. Powershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06591410044540441696noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35776353.post-81453561860512477502008-01-20T12:05:00.000-08:002008-01-29T20:27:37.647-08:00Cultures, colors, and cross-coordinationThe <a style="font-style: italic;" href="http://www.basiliquenddm.org/">Basilique Notre-Dame</a> is not only one of Montréal's architectural jewels, it's a venerable bastion of Québecois Catholicism.<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/powersmitchell/2228773802/" title="Basilique Notre-Dame de Montréal 001 by powersmitchell, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2178/2228773802_a4490da282_b.jpg" alt="Basilique Notre-Dame de Montréal 001" width="320" /></a><br /><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" >Talk about an unexpected place for a <a href="http://www.detnews.com/2005/business/0501/27/E01-71598.htm">blue-light special</a>...</span><br /><br />It therefore came as little surprise to see that its keepers have chosen the official colors of Québec for the church's lighting scheme. "What <span style="font-style: italic;">are</span> the official colors of Québec?" you ask.<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/powersmitchell/2228531387/" title="Quebec Flag by powersmitchell, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2064/2228531387_c324d7d43b_o.jpg" alt="Quebec Flag" width="320" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">A pleasant, if somewhat unoriginal, color combination.</span></span><br /><br />So, when actually stop and reflect upon it for a moment, the whole blue light thing makes sense. But to be completely honest, "<span style="font-style: italic;">Vive le Québec!</span>" wasn't exactly the first thing that popped into our minds when we we first set eyes upon the <span style="font-style: italic;">Basilique's</span> lighting scheme. I mean, think about it for a second. Blue and white holiday lights adorning a religious building in the winter time...<br /><br />Yep. That's right.<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/powersmitchell/2228566747/" title="Hannuka Hat by powersmitchell, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2069/2228566747_4ddec7d5e9_o.jpg" alt="Hannuka Hat" height="320" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Yes, you too can be the life of every Hanukkah party you attend with your very own </span><a style="font-style: italic;" href="http://www.villagehatshop.com/elope_menorah_hat.html">menorah hat</a><span style="font-style: italic;"> (only $24.95 plus S&H).</span></span><br /><br />I guess you could say our <span style="font-style: italic;">first</span> thought was something like, "Happy Hanukkah, Montréal!" Not what the decorators intended, I suppose, but still a seasonal sentiment. Nothing like cultural cross-pollination for a good chuckle.J. Powershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06591410044540441696noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35776353.post-52893902877655049882008-01-01T00:01:00.000-08:002008-02-02T17:44:56.215-08:00Bonne Nouvelle Année !Happy New Year, one and all! Our warmest wishes to all of you, our dear readers. May 2008 see you happy, healthy, and hearty. Indeed, may this year be the one in which your wildest dreams come true... except maybe for that one where you showed up at school <a href="http://ezinearticles.com/?Dream-Interpretation---Dreams-of-Being-Naked&id=108075">naked</a>.<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/powersmitchell/2195969170/" title="Sting Dune Half-naked by powersmitchell, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2257/2195969170_02a6f05c65_o.jpg" alt="Sting Dune Half-naked" width="313" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Wow. Impressively wild. So... where do you carry your trig homework in that getup?</span></span><br /><br />H and I are enjoying a quiet evening together, watching a few good films and reminiscing a little. Despite all the adventure, we're not all that sorry to see 2007 recede into the past. We look forward with great hope and intense anticipation to 2008. May it be our--and your--most adventuresome year yet!J. Powershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06591410044540441696noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35776353.post-40148227646243781932007-12-25T01:14:00.000-08:002008-01-29T12:02:53.994-08:00Joyeux Noël !A Merry Christmas to one and all! We're down in Cape Cod for a few days, enjoying the company of some of our dearest Boston-area friends. We'll let you know if we happen to see any <a href="http://www.aorbsantas.com/">Real Bearded Santas</a> in our neighborhood--and you should keep a lookout <span style="font-style: italic;">chez vous</span>. They've been known to congregate in <a href="http://trufflewarren.blogspot.com/2007/02/naughty-and-nice-in-paradise.html">unexpected places</a>...<br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/powersmitchell/2207857915/" title="Santa Convention-17 by powersmitchell, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2148/2207857915_7014e64495_b.jpg" alt="Santa Convention-17" height="320" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Would you believe me if I told you this photo was </span>not <span style="font-style: italic;">taken at the North Pole?</span></span>J. Powershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06591410044540441696noreply@blogger.com0