This week's park was Jack Darling, another Mississauga waterfront park. We really liked this place and again wished we'd brought a picnic, so we could join one of the many families who'd set up for the day on the grass. A lot of these people were serious picnickers, who'd brought a backyard's worth of outdoor furniture, gas grills and hibachis, parasols and tents, and even hammocks. We really have to do that someday.
There are also sandy beaches, some of them even swimmable, although the beach above was completely taken over by Canada geese.
The park is next to Rattray Marsh, a pretty wetland that can be explored from raised wooden boardwalks. The paths continue into a forest, which was very nice and cool on this hot day, and although it was a weekend and fairly crowded we managed to see some neat stuff, including a family of weasels. OK, I didn't actually see them myself, but everyone else did and seemed to think they were neat.
The visit ended in the traditional way, with sausages and pop from a hot dog stand. Hideaki was really impressed with the stand and wished we had them in Tokyo. I guess I'm lucky to have such an easy to impress husband.
My sister had recently arrived from Texas, making this a complete family reunion. She and my Mom had stayed behind while we went to the park, and when we got back there was a feast waiting for us. It started with the amazing appetizer above, which was prosciutto-wrapped dates stuffed with blue cheese, broiled and topped with almonds and honey. This seems to be a popular recipe, judging by a search I just did, but I'd never heard of it before and was blown away. It was just amazing and very hard not to eat it all myself.
Then I put together some more traditional appetizers, and since this was Fathers' Day, these were Dad-oriented stinky canned and pickled things (and happily my Dad and I share similar tastes). Smoked oysters, smoked mussels, several kinds of sardines, pickled beets, pickled onions, dill pickles, plus crab dip and crackers. Most of this stuff can't be easily found in Japan, so I was probably even happier than Dad was.
After Fathers' Day festivities dinner was served. This was a whole salmon (head and tail cut off only because we didn't have a pan big enough for it) stuffed with spinach and baked. This is another dish I request often, and this might have been the best version ever (I think I say that every time, but this time I really mean it). The salmon came from Ocean's, the new(ish) Asian market in town, and seemed to be better than any we've bought in recent years. Great new Asian markets have popped up all over recently, making visits to the old dingy one unnecessary. Funny how things improve after I move away.
This is the salmon and its stuffing, served with new potatoes and green beans. I regretted eating all those appetizers, because I could have had three plates of this.
And more regret when dessert came: a fancy chocolate cake, apple tart, and fresh local strawberries (or what was left of them, for as soon as they hit the table hands were grabbing them).
Another night we went out for dinner, to Osso Bucco's, our local casual Italian place. Here Julie doles out the mussels for Zoe.
The mussels here are fantastic, but have a mysteriously Thai flavour. The sauce is billed as a spicy white wine cream sauce, and indeed it is, but there also seems to be coconut milk and curry. We always order these, and then everyone discusses what's in the recipe and we all vow to try making it ourselves. So far no one has, but one of these days...
Baked goat cheese, which you've all probably seen a million times but I can't get enough of it (goat cheese not being terribly popular in Japan).
I've always thought there's something wrong with people who order a soup or salad as their main dish at a nice restaurant. Why would anyone pass up delicious pastas, steaks, and other wonderful things for a boring dish that anyone can make at home? Well, something strange possessed me that night and I found myself ordering zuppa di pesce (seafood soup).
Possibly the giant servings at Osso Bucco had something to do with my odd behavior: I knew most of the main dishes would leave me stuffed beyond comfort, and I also knew that everyone else would have so much food that they'd be happy to share once I got tired of my soup. But there was no getting tired of this soup, it was fantastic. Yes, I did sample everyone else's dinners, but only to assure myself that I'd ordered the best thing on the menu. Bonus: I was able to finish it all and didn't feel like exploding afterward.
Another night it was Sherry's turn to cook dinner. She made a Korean feast of miso soup, bulgogi beef, rice, sauteed greens of some kind and garlicky broccoli. It was wonderful, and I was especially happy to eat white rice and miso soup as I was starting to miss Japanese food. But I got a shock when I tried the soup: it was spicy! It looked just like Japanese miso soup, with tofu and green onions floating around, but it turned out there were green chillies lurking at the bottom. Once I got over my surprise I realized it was delicious. Chilli goes really well with miso, and it's such a genius combination that I'll be making it myself soon.
Another day Hideaki and I hitched a ride into Toronto with my Dad. We all parted ways in the morning: Dad for an appointment, me to meet my friend Aspasia, and Hideaki to explore the city by himself. I had a great day roaming the city, doing stuff like eating the excellent pho above, lots of chatting over lots of coffee, spending my useless Canadian dollars on pretty clothes in Kensington market, and a fruitless search for a certain kind of tomato that apparently doesn't exist in Toronto.
Hideaki also had a good day, mostly, and upon looking at the hundreds of pictures he took (typical Japanese tourist, hehe) I realized he went to many of the same places we went, mostly at the same time. It's amazing we didn't bump into each other, and when I heard about his later misadventures I wished we had (or at least I wished we'd had cell phones).
His route took him from the Tourist Information office at Yonge and Dundas (where I set him up with a map and left him to it), over to Little Italy at College and Bathurst, where he had lunch, above.
Then he headed down to Kensington Market, then Chinatown, then along Queen Street West, then down to Front Street and on to the St. Lawrence Market.
And finally he ended up at Union Station. Not particularly impressive, except that it was all on foot, on one of the hottest days in June. I'd given him tokens for the TTC (Toronto Transit Commission, consisting of buses, streetcars and subways) but he hadn't used them for some reason.
Unfortunately I been told that the GO (Ontario public transit) trains to Brampton ran all day, and had supplied Hideaki with the same incorrect information. I had had a little trouble myself getting home, having just missed the last train but not knowing it until I was almost on the platforms. Funny how when I asked the teller for a one-way train ticket to Brampton she didn't tell me there were no trains. Of course there are buses, which cost the same, so it's all the same to her, but that (plus the typically Canadian lack of any kind of useful signage) led to some confusion and I barely managed to find and catch the right bus home.
And if I, as a native English speaker who actually used to live in Toronto, had trouble, I figured Hideaki would too. I hoped that he had gone home early and managed to catch a train like I told him.
But when I got home he wasn't there, and it was a suspenseful few hours until we heard from him. When he finally called I was ready to call the police to report him missing, but he was fine, having gone through nothing worse than falling victim to a couple of useless transport systems staffed by useless people.
Just like me, He'd bought a ticket to Brampton after the trains had stopped, and also not been told there were no trains. He'd also later been unable to find the (nonexistent) platform and asked a GO employee what to do, and was told to take the train to Bramalea (the stop before Brampton) and then take a Brampton Transit bus to Brampton station. A completely different (and completely asinine) answer to the same question I had asked.
So he did what he was told (having a snack of timbits and iced coffee first at his favourite place in the world, Tim Hortons), and at Bramalea tried to find a bus to take him to the Brampton GO station, but none of the maps and schedules could help. He did ask the teller at the terminal and two bus drivers, and was told by all three that there is no bus to downtown Brampton. True, and so far so good. But two of those three didn't know which combination of buses would get him there (and didn't bother to find out) and one of them did, but Hideaki couldn't understand and/or remember the instructions. I suppose he could have tried writing them down asked the driver to repeat the instructions or speak more slowly, but I'm just proud of him for overcoming his gender and asking for directions in the first place. He could also have called us at that point, but again: Y chromosome and all that.
So he just gave up and took a taxi to the downtown Brampton GO station, then called us for a ride home as planned. Little did he know that Bramalea is a 10-minute drive from our home and that he could have called us from there and saved himself the twenty-five dollar cab fare.
OK, a long, not very interesting story, but after over a decade of living in Japan I found it all shocking, as Tokyo and its suburbs have a transportation system that's a hundred times bigger and more complicated yet is far easier to navigate thanks to well-coordinated systems, sensible design, good signage, and employees who are generally very helpful and extremely knowledgeable. It's not perfect in Japan and I've gotten lost plenty of times or occasionally dealt with a nasty driver or teller, but every time I've asked a question to any kind of transportation official he's either immediately given me a clear and correct answer, or directed me to another who could do so.
I'm actually kind of glad it happened though, because Hideaki has fallen in love with Canada and I don't want him to be too impressed, lest he be disappointed later. Better to let him see the faults from the beginning.
Back at home we were keeping ourselves amused with Sorry, our favorite board game. Dad likes to keep it interesting by adding little extras to the board, but it soon became clear that Sorry wasn't going to be enough: it's made for four players but there were eight of us.
So I searched my Dad's office (which was doubling as our guest room) and found an old piece of poster board (with a chart on one side made by my Mom for a PTA meeting 30 years ago--Dad is quite the pack rat). After hours of excruciating mathematical calculations and several re-dos (I'm math-challenged) Zoe and I designed a bigger and better board with room for eight players. We all took turns decorating each player's home base, and then we gave the board a try.
Or rather, the board was put away and tried a week later, as nobody really seemed that impressed for some reason. I think it's pure genius, with extra slides that take players all the way to the other side of the board and certain places that allow you to trade positions with other players (without which the game would take longer than Monopoly to finish). When we finally got around to playing it, with clips, chopstick rests, erasers and other pieces we'd found around the house, I loved it. And although everyone else fell asleep at the table I think with a few refinements this could be a winner. I'll be contacting Parker Brothers soon, and within a year or two I'm quite sure I'll be retiring as a billionaire. Contact me if you're interested in a partnership.
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