The Perfect Summer Meal

Ever since I tried ceviche for the first time last summer, I've had a bit of a fixation with it. I'm  a raw fish fan to begin with, so it makes sense that the texture appeals to me. But it's the flavour of ceviche I got hooked on — fresh, citrusy, and (in most cases) cilantro-y.

Last night, it was a lucky set of circumstances (and a good memory for restaurant names) that led my friend and I to La Bella Managua at Bloor and Ossington. It has been written up several times for its ceviche and the off-the-menu dish did not disappoint: small cubes of firm mahi mahi marinated in lime juice with red peppers, red onion and cilantro served with sweet and crispy fried plaintain chips. I could easily eat this several nights a week, especially in the summer. 

Because I was feeling uber gluttonous (it was 10:30 and we were mostly looking for a snack), I went ahead and ordered the Bandeja Tipica, a traditional Nicaraguan dish of rice and beans with fried plaintain, cabbage salad, avocado, tortilla and fresh cheese. Also delish. 

I didn't have my camera on me, so sadly no pictures. But I hope your mouth is watering despite the absence of visuals. (Yep, mine is).

Shades of Cream

I'm one of those people who have a habit of buying clothes that look the same (or have a similar prominent feature) without even realizing it. Back in university, someone pointed out to me that I had a bunch of pants with a similar front pocket scheme going on. Then I had a thing for three-quarter length sleeve cardigans, which didn't really hit me until I had four in my closet. And I've just had another repeat purchase pointed out to me — cream-coloured shirts. (Isn't cream such a yummy word?)

I've purchased three t-shirts in the last two months, all of which are similar shades cream. It's a good colour — very similar, in fact, to the wall paint in my apartment, way warmer than white and great with dark denim. I think it's the perfect colour for tan-disabled redheads (even faux ones like me).  

To my shopping credit, the three same-ish shirts all have different stuff going on — there is the perfectly plain crew neck from American Apparel, the black-patterned v-neck from Victoire in Ottawa, and a gathered, crochet-patterned part blouse/part tee from Urban Outfitters. 

So while the fashion mags (as always) declare that colour is in for spring, I'll be hanging out in my new favourite neutral. Mmm cream. 

Found! An Ideal Apartment

I'm in love with this apartment building because it reminds me of New York — and I'm a fan of pretty much all things New York — and because it's so unlike the cookie-cutter condos that glut Toronto. As soon as I saw this apartment listing, I started daydreaming that I owned it. There's something very romantic about living in a building with a lot of history. I think it ties you more to the urban landscape than a 500-square-foot, 42nd floor condo unit overlooking the Gardiner that's surrounded by amenities that scream suburbs. But sadly it seems there are only a few buildings like this in the city where you can actually purchase an apartment.  

Photo: http://www.412jarvis.ca/

One summer, I lived in a charming old building at Yonge and St. Clair. Glenn Gould used to live there! It had an elevator you entered through a pull-open door with a small glass window, painted radiators, and black (often faulty) push-button buzzers with type-written name tags. I miss that building and the feeling I got as I pulled open the front door and walked into the ornately carpeted lobby with the aged (but not at all unpleasant) smell. Ahhh, history.

Self Plug

To counteract the guilt of not writing on my blog as often as I'd like to, I'll post this freelance piece as a way to say, 'look, I do other writing!'

All About Objects

I watched the documentary Helvetica a few months back and loved it. When a filmmaker can take a seemingly mundane subject like a font, explore its historical (and even political) connotations and make you think a lot about your surroundings ... well, then that's a good filmmaker. 

So I was excited to see Gary Hustwit's new doc, Objectified, last night. Although it didn't quite have the punchiness of Helvetica (my friend in law school pointed out the debate element was missing), it was still super engaging, and included interviews with industrial designers from around the world. And it also really made you think about your surroundings, a lot like the excellent book The Design of Everyday Things by Donald A. Norman, which points out that so many things we use are poorly designed. Or as the colourful Karim Rashid argues in Objectified, most of the seating in the world is uncomfortable — and that's just wrong.

Because the doc got me thinking about objects, I snapped photos of some things in my apartment that satisfy me both functionally and aesthetically. One of the designers in the film cleverly said (something like) certain objects become almost like friends because you use them so much in your daily life. So here are some pals of mine.

Antique mirror, giant paper clip, Umbra organizer. 

  My fave pots: shiny, heavy, red.  

 Couch with arms that double as side tables.

  No-brainer measuring cups.

A thoughtful looking lamp.

A Kickin' Cultural Cocktail

In my ideal world, I would consume one excellent book, album, film, and art/museum exhibit per week. So I was very impressed that I managed to do just that last week without even trying. Props!

Book: Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs by Chuck Klosterman

Klosterman's writing is self-indulgent, but he has the smarts and wit to make this book into a super-sharp analysis of his own obsessions with random bits of pop culture. My favourite chapter was the one on Saved By The Bell (and how "important things are inevitably cliche"—brilliant!), followed closely by the one where he spends a lot of time with a Guns n' Roses cover band. A very solid read. 

Album: Joel Plaskett, Three

JP rocks. I love his ambition in putting out this triple disc record and having all the discs be wicked. I listened the hell out of Ashtray Rock, so it's nice to have some—make that lots of— fresh Joel on the ol' iPod. The first single Through & Through & Through has been in my head incessantly — and, by the way, I love when Joel blanks out f*** in his songs because it's so blam! (Case in other point: Nothing More To Say on Ashtray Rock). There's lots of great mellow stuff on here, too, and it's undeniably (but, to me, inexplicably) CanCon. 

Film: Two Lovers

Joaquin is really that damn good in this film and you hope he's not serious about the whole quitting acting thing. And so is Gwyneth, who I haven't seen in a film in ages, but who I feel like I know on a personal level now somehow (perhaps because of GOOP and all my Spain...On the Road Again watching). But the thing I liked most about Two Lovers was its simplicity. It felt real in a lot of ways—the dialogue and the pacing were spot on—and that's hard to come by. 

Exhibit: Maximum Exposure (aka Max Ex)

This is Ryerson Image Arts' students exhibiting part of their final projects, many of which were very cool. I went with my photog friend Carmen and kept asking her, "how do they do that?" because there were so many lighting tricks and techniques I was unaware of. It was at the Gladstone, but it's done now. Sorry 'bout that. 

The Buy: "Nice" Sunglasses

I used to be one of those people who believed buying sunglasses for more than $25 was throwing away money because I was bound to a) lose them b) break them or c) get bored with them over the course of a summer. 

But then I had three pairs of cheap sunglasses in a row, two of which broke without me doing anything careless to break them, and one pair that was so cheap the glazed finish peeled off in the heat, leaving my face itchy and, well, gross. So maybe, subconsciously, I'd had enough. Still, I never thought sunglasses would be an item I'd splurge on. 

Then came the perfect storm. I was stuck—stuck being the operative word—in a mall alone, waiting for a friend. It was a sunny—can I emphasize sunny?—day outside and I decided I needed sunglasses to get by. And I happened to wander into Sunglass Hut, where most of the shades are in the $200 to $300 range (Prada! Chanel! Ray Ban!) so finding a pair for 89 bucks seemed like a downright steal. 

I bought the $89 sunglasses with the swipe of the devil-on-my-shoulder credit card, rationalizing all the while. They're Club Monaco, naturally, because that brand has itself wrapped around my little finger. (They could sell Bandaids and I'd probably buy them...analyze that!) Post-purchase, I fled to the restroom to check myself out in the new shades, and thought, with relief, 'damn, I look cool.' 

A few days later, I saw the Joe Fresh version of my space age-ish aviators online for $14—this after my boyfriend told me the glasses looked too big for my face—and whimpered a bit inside. 

But then I shook it out, walked outside with my newest CM accessory, and held my head high—towards the sun, wouldn't you know?—with not a trace of squint in my eyes.