Yayyy crepes

Richmond Night Market
Originally uploaded by Uncle Buddha

Don't listen to my malicious rumours. I've been telling anyone who asked that the Richmond Night Market was cancelled this summer. It's not! (This was reported in the Vancouver Sun 4 days ago, but I'm a bit behind the times.)

I may complain about the crappiness of our farmers markets compared to everywhere else, but the Richmond Night Market reigns supreme. I can't wait to elbow my way through the food stalls.

Dining in hotels (now with pictures!)

At work we received something called a tourism passport. Basically, a bunch of lucky schmucks in the industry get this pass that's good for themselves and a guest at pretty much any attraction in town until the end of the month. So we all run around getting stamps from these places, and if we have a certain amount before time is up, that pass becomes good for a year. Sweet! Another bonus of this pass is that we get deals at hotel restaurants. Which is why Kelly and I ate at 2 yesterday.

We had brunch at O'Doul's, a jazz bar in the Listel Hotel on Robson, where I have volunteered in the media lounge during the jazz festival for years, yet have never eaten. (I have always enjoyed their washrooms though. You can tell how good a place is by how nice their washrooms are, and the ones at O'Doul's are lovely and serene.) The offer only extended to eggs benedict, which was strangely specific, but all right. We both like eggs benedict. Theirs was very good, as was the coffee, which I can be picky about. The hollandaise was delicate and I really enjoyed the potatoes, which were wonderfully crisp on the outside. A very pleasant place for brunch.

After spending the day enjoying the cool new exhibit "Krazy" at the art gallery (which I highly recommend you check out), we went to Mosaic, the restaurant in the Hyatt on Burrard. The first thing was that the hostess asked my name, and then our server called us "Mr and Mrs Skinner" the whole meal. We didn't mind, but I wonder what kind of trouble it's gotten them into before.

We were seated by the window, which afforded an interesting view of the goings-on on Burrard Street. The service was flawless. We were served by no less than four people. Our $30 three course meal, which was a bargain compared to the $30 entrees on the regular menu, started with an amuse-bouche, a cream of asparagus shooter. I usually dislike cream soups, but this one was rad. My appetizer of beets, goat cheese and micro greens was no less amazing, and I exclaimed over every complex bite.


Kelly's starter was smoked salmon and creme fraiche with micro greens on a latke, and it was just as exciting. Top points in this category.

A strong start became just above average. I had lamb two ways on a very interesting cauliflower puree. I liked it, but won't dream about it.


Kelly had tender braised short ribs with some chard (which I ate) and a sweet corn veloute, again in a shot glass. I got to expound on what my reading of the almighty Ruhlman taught me a veloute was. (It's one of Escoffier's mother sauces, a roux made with stock. Wow! Don't go telling everyone all at once now.) He really liked the corn nonetheless.

We both finished with maple cream brulee. I didn't pick up on the maple taste, but Kelly's more delicate palate did. I always like creme brulee, so I was happy, but Kelly swore he'd had better. Meh. I probably wouldn't waste a night of Dine Out on it when there's so many places to go, but I'd go back if someone else was paying. Good but not great.

The heat brings out the crazies

Yesterday at work we had to phone the police twice, both times to remove insane Australian guests. First there was a mountain biker who had seemed sweet but a nutter, and he suddenly lost it and was a straight-up nutter. When he started murmuring about all his belongings being tainted, we knew it was time for him to go. We called the po-po to help him out because someone was convinced he would turn violent. He was lead out in handcuffs and a third officer had to be called, so I guess that person was right.

Just as I left, another guest threatened violence on a co-worker. Like, out of nowhere. She'd barely even served him before, and he was telling her he wanted her down on the ground so he could punch her repeatedly. WTF? She was in shock, and agreed to press charges when the police arrived.

On the suffocatingly hot bus ride home, a crazy asshole kept on shouting insults at everyone within reach. His great comeback to a woman who was telling him off was, "At least I'm not overweight. Go eat a burger." Good one, moron. Along with Sarah's story about a girl on the Skytrain who started randomly trying to pick a fight, it makes me think that the heat really does bring out the crazy people.

Advice for the bloggers

Don't ever use your freedom of expression to write about places you don't like, lest something suspicious happens to them and the police, apparently lacking any real suspects, take to Googling and call you up for an interview.

Yep, it's true!

I have further thoughts on privacy and how insulted I am, but that's it for now.

There goes the neighbourhood

On the bus passing Budgie's Burritos today, I saw a sign posted above the chairs outside: "No posers, loiterers, or smokers". 

Isn't that their whole clientele?

Come to think of it, someone should take a photo of that and send it to Passive-Aggressive Notes.

Sleeping kitty

Neko
Originally uploaded by Jeffery Simpson

Kelly took this cute little video of Neko kneading the air in her sleep.

There's a reason I'm not posting a photo here

So I got a pedicure the other day, and was so proud of how pretty my toes were that I took a photo and posted it on Flickr this afternoon. 

Within 2 hours, someone I never heard of before had made it a favorite. This person had no public photos, no profile and no picture of themselves. I blocked them and made the photo private. What the heck is the world coming to when a girl can't put up a photo of their own feet on the internet?

The flight to Montreal is now blurg

It's been a while since I was into a TV show enough to discuss it, but last week's "Sandwich Day" episode of 30 Rock pissed me off. Don't get me wrong, it still had me laughing so hard I couldn't breathe (when Jack got off the elevator onto the surreal hell that was the 12th floor), but the Liz Lemon and Floyd situation bothered me.

You may remember Floyd as Liz's ideal boyfriend from last season who moved to Cleveland. He came back this episode for an unexpected visit, and she got all dolled up to make him see how well she was doing, which is fine. It was her behaviour the next day that was the problem. He blatantly lied to her, making up a story about why he had to go. She busted him and freaked out ("You used Ghostbusters for evil!"), cursing Cleveland from ever having an IKEA. I think she should have left it at that, especially since he made it clear he just wanted to be friends, and he was a total ass for pretending his phone worked and he had a flight. But instead she ran after him to the airport to apologize, actually buying a cheap ticket to Montreal to get through security. It really bothered me that even though he admitted he slept around and was obviously way over her, she went to such unfeminist lengths for what? To tell him he could keep her house key? They are totally through and she could do better. I know it's a fake show, but I guess I just didn't like the message it sent. 

Molecular Awesomenomy

I have mentioned repeatedly that I am very, very interested in going to Chicago and eating at Grant Achatz's restaurant Alinea. If you want to get a taste of why I have such a hot nut for eating this guy's food, read the New Yorker's excellent profile of Achatz, a star chef recovering from tongue cancer. It is very, very good. What I can't understand is how a guy working 20 hour days can have a girlfriend, let alone be undergoing radiation at the same time.

Fizz goes to the movies x 2

On Thursday, we went to the opening night of Iron Man. Knowing next to nothing about the character (but perhaps knowing slightly more than the average joe due to having a giant nerd for a fiance), I hugely enjoyed it. You have your smart comic book movies like Batman Begins, and you have your fun but silly ones like Spiderman. This one fits in the first category. Gwyneth Paltrow is awesome; I forgot she was awesome; and her character is named Pepper Potts. How cute is that? And she has really great chemistry with Robert Downey Jr, who I'm so glad is not a crackhead anymore. Or at least has it under control. He is so good in this movie, all complex and lovely-eyed. If you want to go see a movie and feel kind of worried and kind of mushy and kind of sad and kind of laughy over 2 hours, pick Iron Man. And wait til the end of the credits.

On Friday, we went to the one night only special showing of the Indiana Jones adaptation. (I told you about it, so don't blame me if you missed out.) One of the filmmakers was in attendance, who happened to be the one who played Indy, and he was super cool and offered to answer questions in the lobby when time ran out in the theatre. The movie was a smashing effort, done in Betamax in the 80's with crappy sound. You could barely hear some of the dialogue, and some of the shots were so badly lit the screen was practically black, but it was wonderful. Miriam's hair changed length and colour throughout, and the pet monkey in the Cairo scenes was replaced with a puppy that perched on Indy's shoulder. SO CUTE. The audience was enthusiastic and appreciative, cheering as Indy fought Nazis in a moving truck, and "whoo"-ing just like a Saved by the Bell episode when Indy and Miriam kissed in the boat. This film will never be widely released due to copyright, but comic book writer Daniel Clowes (Ghost World) has finished a script about the boys' making of the film, which is in production. So you can see that at least, someday.