The Swell Season

I've written this before (notably, here), but Autumn is just the most incredible season in the Yukon. It was my first taste of the North when I came up on a whim for a 11 day visit. Yes, it lasts for approximately two-and-a-half weeks, yes I hardly have time to keep my leather jacket on before colder temperatures leads me to dig out my winter puffy-- but it is yellowglorious. One day, when we move away from this beautiful country, that brief window in September will be among the top things that I sorely miss about our time here.

A couple months ago (I am finally 'catching up' to the backlog of photos and thoughts rattling around in my head post-wedding, oi), we reached for sleeping bags and camping pots, and spent a weekend tromping around Haines, Alaska. We've been to Haines a zillion times now (read, 6), but never in the Fall. Usually, as we go through the Pass, it is winterwonderlandwhite, and outrageously beautiful, and stark, and void of colour. Mountains jut out against the grey sky, and everything is various tones of the underbelly of a Magpie.

What We Eat

   My first food fantasy as a child comes courtesy of a moment in the book, "The Midnight Fox", a novel study Ms. Vibert assigned in Grade Five.

I don't remember what this book is about; never mind what part the fox plays into the story.

All I remember is that, at some point, the kids in the book decide to make something in the kitchen. Their mom hands them some leftover bread dough and tells them they have free range of the contents in the fridge. They grab jars of pickles, different kinds of cheese, and leftover chunks of sausage from the night before. They press these ingredients into the ball of dough, and work it with their hands until they are all safely housed within, and the whole thing takes the form of a sphere.

It is the description of what it was like when it came out of the oven, that has stayed with me for nineteen years. A "golden football": hot, flaky, oozing with the melding juices of the briny pickles, the spicy sausage, and the salty cheese. It must have been a well written passage,  because that singular moment when the mom slices the orb in half for the children, and they bite into this piping hot, calzone/meatpie invention.... it literally remains the most delicious thing I have ever read.

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NYC: Lunching at Jean-Georges

Yes, that is a chocolate bow on my head. Read on.

For this last post about New York, I'm not going to let too many words get in the way. I might save them for something else, like having a conversation with a friend, or dreaming about euromoon '15 with the husband, or reading a book.

We'll let the photos do the talking, and merely say that by the end of our trip, we more or less really enjoyed being spoiled at fancy restaurants, and having servers in penguin suits pull out chairs for both of us and wipe our mouths.

On our second Friday in the city, we treated ourselves to a Thai massage, a stroll around Central Park, and a leisurely, sophisticated lunch at Jean-Georges (3 Michelin Star status).

(Before you start feeling envious of our lives, or judge us for how decadent we were on our honeymoon, I would like to tell you that I am currently sitting on my lumpy couch, eating cashews that are resting on my chest (I don't like doing unnecessary dishes). Also, the nearest grocery store with fresh nutrients is 2 hours away.)

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NYC: Tocqueville & Magic Show

    

Sometimes, I fantasize that one day I will have a blog recognizable enough that restaurants will invite me to gorge my face for free, in exchange for some pretty photos and a review. My momma does this, you know. I can't read a lick of it, as it is in Chinese, but she has gone to places like Tojo's a zillion times, never paying the $$$$$ price point for the fanciest sushi in town. (Gourmet Vancouver : I would highly recommend taking up google's offer of 'translating' the page into English. Always good for a head scratcher.)

But then, I reflect on my dim photos and my severe LACK OF MEMORY at what any of the food consisted of, and I realize that it is a good thing that I am actually a really good school counsellor and English teacher. 

In this second last post on New York (are you sick of these yet? I find it slightly amusing that it is starting to be icicle season here in the Yukon, and I'm posting pictures of bare arms), you will get a glimpse of what might be a great date night idea: dinner & a magic show.