Detours of a south east asian prairie girl

With fab dim sum at the institution that is Sun Sui Wah, that is. My buddies and I were supposed to meet for dim sum at a restaurant at 41st and West Boulevard today, but for the life of us, could not find the place. Odd! With the cold rain beating down, we cut our losses and headed over to Sun Sui Wah instead. Mmmmm. Here are some of what we shared (and I met my match in food p*rn picture taking in Chi-chan):

I love Sundays. Sundays used to mean church, family, and in my fiction world, long drives through rural roads with desert red maple leaves falling and the smell of boiled peanuts in the air. In reality, it was Sunday mornings at the Seria food market in Brunei, a 10 mile drive from Kuala Belait where my home was. There was father and mother in the front seat of our white Toyota station wagon. My brother is next to me. We drive along the coastal road bordering the South China Sea and go to the Seria market for breakfast. There was yellow noodles and white silverpin noodles, both served lo-mein style, with bits of porks, fresh steamed greens, red slices of barbeque pork, wontons, and preserved turnips. There’s also char kuaw teoy, so hot and smoky from the blazing wok. Strong coffee on order for the adults, plain tea for us kids. You can have congee with fresh long donuts in the Chinese section and in the Malay section, there’s plenty more sweets and grilled sticky rice in palm leaves.

Father and mother met other friends, and these friends watched my brother and I grow up and get bigger and taller week by week.

4 pm precisely, Mass started in church in the same school I attended 5 days a week. It was a good ritual till I hit my preteen years.

Today, church is well, a memory of my youth. The breakfasts, I’d have to travel across the Pacific to get them. Red maple leaves, well, I guess I’d go to Ontario or Quebec for the best sights.

Sundays have definitely evolved. But today, friends and family are one. Spring is here, and this is how I celebrated it:

Brunch to start the day. On tap, crepes with bananas and sweet milk, raisin croissant french toast with honeyed strawberry compote and a dollop of cream. Thick European bacon. Croissants. Omelettes. The laughter and hum of conversation with friends in the living room. The play of kids and cat.

As if all that food wasn’t enough, E and I walked to Belgian Fries on Commercial Drive to share a large order, then walked to Sami’s in Chinatown for watermelon bubble juice. We visited open houses along the way, for fun. The blossoms are outrageously beautiful. It was a good chummin’ time. How can I eat this much?

Just by luck, the first song I heard on the radio this morning was from Craig Morgan, a country song, and it goes …

That’s what I love about Sunday:
Sing along as the choir sways;
Every verse of Amazin’ Grace,
And then we shake the Preacher’s hand.
Go home into your blue jeans;
Have some chicken and some baked beans.
Pick a back yard football team,
Not do much of anything.
That’s what I love about Sunday

We owe an ogre bunch to giant taxman CCRA. To me at first, serious money and infinite postponement of the DSLR I’ve been wanting. E, always optimistic, enthusiastic, and enormously confident, said, “Don’t worry, girl, you married into money! Baby, the money’s rolling in, I got this [job], that [job], and this backup [job] and you a steady paycheck. You and me, babe, and we can write the book on how to save money, babe. Baby, baby, baby, don’t worry, we are rich! Oh baby, you married into money!”.

Oh that E, she cracks me up. She is right too, she the brave foot soldier of job juggling. Can you tell why I love her so?

Not quite like the two guys in the movie Sideways (no extramarital affairs, lies, or accidents), but my weekend to the Okanagan was stupendously indulgent. Hightailing it out of Vancouver at 6:30 am, by 9 am, our little red Toyota Echo was enshrouded in thick fog in the high mountain road of Coquihalla.

A lunch date at Quails Gate Winery was waiting however, so we pushed on. Arriving a little earlier, we hopped to tiny Mt. Boucherie Estate Winery for a tasting. And oh my, were the wines ever gorgeous! A Late Harvest Pinot Noir and a lovely Gerwurztraminer promptly followed us home, hee hee.

Lunch at Quails Gate was outstanding, and they gave us a little corner table overlooking Okanagan Lake. My bison burger with smoked wild boar bacon paired with a hefty Cabernet Sauvignon was everything it should be. Dessert needed improvement though, but it didn’t spoil the experience. Of the wines tasted there, the Chenin Blanc jumped out with its exuberant citrus. It hits you over the head right away with limes and stays long afterwards. Perfect for raw oysters, mmmmm.

Next up, we met our friend C at Mission Hill Winery. Its stunning location on top of Boucherie Road and its desert-like architecture gives the feel of a missionary in Southern California. Very nice. The wine tasting, however, was not as good as I’d expected and I like Mission Hill wines. In fact, I just had a terrific Sauvignon Blanc the weekend before. These ones just tasted flat somehow. Hmmm, perhaps not a good day for these bottles …??

Our friends kindly put us up for the night in their awesome home in Kelowna. Much fun all around. We made a dinner of caprese salad with torn boccocini, tomatoes, basil pesto, and pan-roasted chorizo. Had a baguette from Okanagan Grocery, an artisan bread shop in Kelowna. That was followed by a thyme roasted chicken with smoked European bacon and mushrooms jus, along with crispy roasted red nugget potatoes, more tomatoes, and a lemony salad of young pea shoots and lambs quarters. Wine was the Mission Hill Sauvignon Blanc which has a lovely acidity to stand up to the tomatoes.

And, as if we didn’t already eat and drink enough for the day, dessert! Fresh strawberries, pears, green apples, drizzled with Okanagan honey, and a platter of 4 cheeses! With apple cider!

The next morning found us jogging before breakfast. Homemade waffles with fresh strawberries was the first meal, then a flaky mille-feuille at La Boulangerie, a traditional French pastry shop and cafe (apparently, they also have the best Montreal Smoked Meat in Kelowna), and a 20 or some odd cheese tasting extravaganza at Carmelis Goat Cheese Farm, which left me breathless. By the way, Carmelis is also available at Granville Island in Vancouver.

And finally, a visit to Calona Vineyards for a liquid gold tasting of their Icewine trio. Let’s just say, if I could, I would. Stock up bottles and bottles of this liquid gold, that is. But at $60 and $80 for the Ehrenfelser and Pinot Noir Icewine, respectively, it would steal a serious sum from my digital SLR camera savings. Yummy icewines though. And full of nuances. So thankful to have try them, period. Yum.

Someone (let’s call her S): I’m not with Adam anymore.
Me: Ohhh girl, I’m so sorry. You okay?
S: Yah. Anyways, I am dating again. Dana.

Me: Awesome! Umm, like Dana Carvey or … Dana Scully?
S (grins): Actually, Dana Scully.

Me: Nice switch. Welcome to the team!

So I am not in Peru or Guatemala right now, but this weekend, foodie heaven is where the action’s at. Think terraced vineyards, bubbly sips, a visit to a goat cheese farm and pastry shop, artisan bread and delicious food, hopefully with the open road and spring blossoms to match. Besides the company of good friends, I can’t wait to try the Private Reserve Pinot Noir Icewine from Calona Vineyards. Mmmmmmmm! Now if only I can get my IPod to play those road trip songs in the car …

Picture this, 11 pm, 3rd floor 1 bedroom apartment. It is dark. Residents of this apartment includes 2 adults, 1 dog and 1 cat. The adults (aka E and I) are happily snoozing off. All of a sudden:

boof boof kad kad boof
E: What was that?
I: Sounds like one of the animals is puking.
In unison: Oh no. You clean it up. No, you do it.
E: Urrgh, which one is it?

E switches on the light. It’s the cat (aka Mou-Mee). Caught. Halfway. In the blinds.

E: It’s a cat burglar!

And thanks to my artist pro, the lovely KT, here is the perfect illustration.