I spent most of the weekend working on a writing project that may bear some fruit one way or another. In either case, I’ll note it here when I know for sure. I did break for a few diversions, including the Cheese Celebration and Student Art Sale at the Emily Carr Institute on Saturday. We picked up some nice local Caerphilly (a Welsh miner’s cheese that I’m very fond of). It’s one of the best cheeses I know with fruit. No art, though.
We Are the Champions!
Today I spent a some time watching the BC Lions play the Montreal Alouettes in The Grey Cup, the Canadian Football League Championship. It’s kind of like the SuperBowl for Canada, only instead of Janet Jackson at half-time, it was Nelly Furtado, who was bundled from head to toe in black leather and a white scarf (so no chance of any ‘wardrobe malfunction’) The fact that it was near freezing for most of the game, which they played in Winnipeg, Manitoba, made warm dress for everyone a necessity.
The temperature had no effect on the BC Lions’ Paul McCallum, who kicked a record-tying 6 field goals (I don’t think I’ve ever seen more than 3 in any game I’ve watched). The most amazing moment (and probably heartbreaking for Montreal fans) was when the Alouettes fumbled the ball on the Lions 1‑yard line, which stopped them from getting within striking distance of a win, and led to a final score of 25 for the Lions, 14 for the Alouettes.
While football is clearly not as near and dear to Canadians’ hearts as hockey, I’m still thrilled to be in a town with a winning sports team. The years of bitterness and nostalgia for seasons past in Boston was something I’d prefer not to experience here. Like it or not, when the team wins, more money comes in, and casual conversation with coworkers, neighbors and even strangers on the street is easier.
Cassoulet II, The Return of the Bean
The Oyama Sausage Company of the Public Market on Granville Island is having their Cassoulet Festival, and we picked up ours today, along with some Duck Confit, a Duck sausage and a Venison Sausage. Tonight we had some of it, and it was still as good as it was last year, bubbling hot, with tender white beans studded with chunks of the most delicious spiced lamb and pork. Topped with bread-crumbs, a few slices of orange, and sprigs of fresh thyme, it’s a sublime treat. We ate it with some asparagus and some nice french bread. Our little feast almost makes up for the damp cold (and cloudy brown water caused by 37 landslides into our reservoirs in a space of 24 hours) of these interminable November storms. Almost.
When you BC’ers are quite finished with all that rain, could you please send some across the Pacific?
The last six years have been our driest ever recorded; all of Australia’s eastern capitals are now on severe water restrictions; there is a four-month wait on installations of domestic rain-water tanks — and our press is filled with debates on the merits of drinking recycled sewage.
Geez, Mike, it’s either feast or famine. Sorry to hear about your drought. Recycled sewage? I suppose you could pretend you’re all astronauts (who routinely have to close the loop on the body fluids flow).
Believe me, if we could send it your way, we would. Too much is not much fun, either. Some days I have to pretend I’m Harrison Ford in Blade Runner.