Monthly Archives: May 2013

Change is scary, and a really great asparagus pasta

About six weeks ago, quite out of the blue, a couple of producers from CTV asked to meet with me for breakfast. Flash forward to two days ago, my last day at Maclean’s, where I said good-bye to some of the best and brightest writers, editors and designers working in the country today.

I’m now on Day 2 of a three-week vacation before I start a new job as the digital correspondent on a new CTV television show called The Social that will air in September.

On Thursday, I spent the morning recovering from good-bye drinks with my colleagues, which ended at a karaoke bar on Yonge St. They also presented me with my very own Maclean’s cover.

Screen shot 2013-05-31 at 11.16.47 AM

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Rites of Spring Cleaning

On a recent morning:

Beast: Now, don’t take this the wrong way, but do you think after you wash my shirts you could just hang them up rather than folding them? The way you fold them leaves them wrinkled.

Foodie: Sure! I don’t mind at all. Why do you think I would take that the wrong way? [Pause] Hey, here’s an alternative idea: How about you do your own fucking laundry?

We have moths and mice, two not entirely uncommon pests to find in old houses this time of year. And it’s initiated a cleaning and purging rampage the likes of which we’ve never performed before: no closet, instrument or pair of shoes is safe from being tossed into a Good Will-bound garbage bag. And no base board has not been wiped down.

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The Beast, with a little help, takes Manhattan

The Beast was weary, like many before him, about turning 30. He had bouts of depression and anxiety over the milestone birthday, which he’s tried to alleviate by just looking fabulous and which I tried to remedy by taking him to New York City. We talked about going somewhere together, just the two of us, to lift his spirits. After all, eight years ago we celebrated my 30th birthday in Grand Bruit, NL, with a cake that the Beast made from a box, and the wind howling so fiercely outside that it felt like our little house might blow away to sea. We threw around destinations as diverse as Las Vegas to renting an isolated cabin in the Shenandoah Valley. In the end, Manhattan won.

He’s only been once before. I took some of his requests, like the American Museum of Natural History, into consideration but he left the rest, including restaurant reservations, up to me.

When I travel I follow roughly the same formula: Quick and easy breakfast, followed by museums and galleries, while you’re still fresh-eyed, followed by lunch, followed by explorations, which may include a cocktail or espresso stop, followed by adventures, some of which should be unplanned, and more explorations, followed by refreshing up at the hotel, followed by a late-night dinner. We didn’t exactly plan that these late-night dinners would be well after 10:00 p.m. every night, but those were the only reservations available.  In the end, it worked out perfectly because we were never ready to eat at 7 p.m., or even 9.

There were celebrity sightings, no breakdowns, meltdowns or fights, plenty of laughs, a few blisters and one or two stops that we didn’t make it to. All in all, “The Beast Takes Manhattan at 30” trip, with a loose theme of “let’s pretend like we’re early 20th century millionaire industrialists cocktailing, wining and dining about town, with a side of Uniqlo every day,” was a success.

Here’s our itinerary, photos and recaps, which I will try to keep short.

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