My (almost) Cousin Vinny…or why TMZ stalked me for a week

This was actually taken on the street where I live. Maybe I should fire up some peroxide, because changing for a man always makes him love you, right? RIGHT?!

When I first moved to New York, I thought I would be seeing celebrities everywhere. My bodega’s People and US Weekly‘s glossy covers gleamed with pictures of **Stars** pounding the pavement of the Big Apple, Starbucks in hand, perusing produce at the Farmer’s Market. I was simply sure I would casually run into Jake Gyllenhal sipping a cappuccino (on second thought, that’s too girly of a drink for Jake- let’s make it Coffee. Black.) at my favorite Park Slope coffee shop, and we would have a prolonged moment of smoldering eye contact that resulted in a really-hott-yet-totally-stable marriage and bodacious, brunette, beautifully-browed babies.

No such luck.

I must have celebrity-repellent pheromones that emanate from my pores, because in almost 2 years of living here I have had ONE chance celebrity encounter (OK, if you must know, it was Steve Buscemi. I bumped into him at a bar (literally) almost spilling his drink. Imagine getting the evil eye from that guy…It still haunts my dreams). Meanwhile my friends run into the likes of James Gandolfini, Marisa Tomei, Heidi Klum, etc., etc., making me feel like the total dork in class who’s not allowed to hang out with the cool kids.

But a few weeks ago, my luck totally changed…

Most of you who read this blog know me personally, but for those who don’t, my primary job is acting and I’m usually taking some kind of class to keep my skillz sharp. About a month ago I signed up for a TOTALLY AWESOME beginning improvisational acting class at Upright Citizens Brigade. From the first moment of class I was in love- I already knew I loved improv & comedy, but actually getting down to the nitty gritty of it kinda made me wanna pee myself with glee. So imagine my surprise when we took a potty break in the middle of the first session, and I walked into the Ladies Room to find all the girls from my class huddled around an iPhone, hissing to each other in giddy whispers. When I asked what was going on, one girl replied, “Ohmigawd, don’t you know who that guy ‘Vincent’ in our class is?! That’s ‘Vinny’ from The Jersey Shore!!!!!!”

??????

Summer '10...Foreshadowing

OK, guys. Confession. I have never watched the Jersey Shore, I have never followed the Jersey Shore, I’ve barely even heard of the Jersey Shore. (Though, weirdly, I have been to the Jersey Shore…see left). But lemme tell ya, when someone tells you you now have a ZERO DEGREES OF SEPARATION from a celebrity, you suddenly become reeeeeal popular. Within a week, I had 20 new followers on Twitter (that’s a LOT, ok guys?), a slew of emails and fb messages asking “is it true?! what’s he LIKE-OM-I-GAW?!”, and the promise of a sold-out show for our Level 1 class showcase (UNheard of).

Now, dudes, Vinny was actually super chill and talented. I gotta say, the guy handled himself with a lot of class in class (see what I did there?) considering we were all expecting…I don’t know…Snooki with more body hair, I guess. But what was this “celebrity” obsession and craziness?? He was just a nice guy who looked good in Hipster glasses, and here we were being told that TMZ might be outside our building after class to find out whether he made us laugh or not. Talk about pressure!! It was all glamorous, sure, but the pressure for the guy to be funny was so much higher than for the rest of us…honestly, it seemed kinda lonely.

Of course, he had to flash a "gang" sign. Sheesh, Vin.

In the end, Our Almost-Cousin Vinny had to leave us to go be in an episode of 90210 (pff, whatever. Who wants to get PAID to act? Am I right ladies?), but to his immense credit, he was true to his word and showed up at our showcase. Call me cray-cray, but that was damn classy of him. Very few people- famous or not- would have made the time to go see the show of the 101 class they had to drop out of. So, Vinny- if by chance you end up reading this- thanks for keeping that promise.

As for the rest of my readers- in true Hole in the Wall(et) tradition, I have found a FABULOUS new haunt that combines my newfound love of improv and my oldfound love of eating! So, get your butt out of the house, grab some of the best pizza the City has to offer, and go laugh at somebody.

UCBeast! (a.k.a “The Beast”)

Beauty of the Beast

The Upright Citizens Brigade has long been known for its stellar improv and comedy shows. It’s been on pretty much every single “best of” list ever made about New York in the last 10+ years. And, miracle of miracles, they have finally added a second location to their original one in Chelsea (307 W. 26th St. New York, NY 10001). Put your hands together for UCBeast!! Located at 153 East 3rd St. New York, NY 10009, this new location is attached to a Two Boots Pizza…and yes! Those who are gluten and dairy intolerant can indulge in yummy comfort food too- I personally recommend the sweet potato fries. Happy belly laughing!

Their pizza crust in no way resembles boot leather as the restaurant title suggests

Drinking makes people funny.

My Life is a (poop) Joke.

Fair Warning: This post is not for the faint of stomach…unless you want to commiserate, of course. And hey, I can laugh at myself when I’m at my worst. “Best medicine” and all that, right?

Further proof I am a Grandma: my food has to be puree'd.

So, if you read my last post, you are aware that I am officially a grandma. I have been diagnosed with stomach ulcers, and have been dealing with all the loveliness that brings for about 3 months now (including but not limited to a horrifically bland diet, a geriatric-worthy sleep schedule, and a daily double dose of Prilosec). I have not been the chipper-est of patients… food is the LOVE of my life, and it has been rudely taken from me by a stupid-ass erosion of my stomach lining. Dumb.

A little over a week ago, after 9 weeks of painstakingly following the ulcer-healing regimen, I finally let myself have a little fun. I went to a beautiful wedding in Boston and had a grand old time- still being careful, of course, but letting myself have a drink with dinner and nibble on a lobster roll or two. Dumb.

Commence round 3 of debilitating ulcer pain…complete with equally debilitating and considerably more explosive bowels (I warned you this post wasn’t for the faint of stomach…seriously, if you don’t handle bodily functions well, STOP READING NOW). The past week has quite literally been spent traveling back and forth from the bed, to the bathroom, to the doctor- in no particular order. Dumb.

Here’s where the joke part starts…

So I went to the doctor again, and after she admitted she was totally stumped by my condition she told me they needed to do some blood work and take some stool samples. Okay, 1. Ouch and 2. GROSS, but no problem, right? WRONG.

Turned out that because my diagnosis was so up in the air, they had to test for a bajillion different bacteria/viruses/diseases/blah-blah-blah…which meant that they needed a sh*t-ton of my sh*t. Which meant that they couldn’t just take samples in the Doc’s office…which meant I had to go home, collect and catalog that sh*t, and BRING IT ALL THE WAY BACK TO THE LAB ON THE UPPER EAST SIDE.

Now folks, I live in Brooklyn. This is at least an hour-long commute with at least two subway transfers. And I would be making that trip with a bag full of my own poop.

The sheer logistics were mind-boggling. How would I carry it? I would have to hide it in some opaque bag so no one could see the giant orange BIO-HAZARDOUS MATERIAL stamp on the side. Would I carry it in my purse? In a separate bag? How would I seal the bag in question? The possibilities were overwhelming! In the end I went with an inconspicuous Starbucks bag (Thanks, Tyler!) that I stapled shut and carried separately from my purse. I felt like a regular Rodion Romanovich Raskolnikkov… I was the most self-conscious I’ve ever been in my entire life…

I feel you, Buster.

When I boarded the train, the subway car was PACKED. I was thisclose to faking pregnancy (I was wearing an empire waist top and could have gotten away with it) so I could sit down and hide the bag under the seat (I didn’t. It felt wrong). So there I stood in the middle of a sea of unwitting New Yorkers, gripping the metal pole for dear life, and praying the MTA would run smoothly for once. After 20 minutes, the car slowed and screeched to a halt…Ladies and Gentleman, we are delayed because of train traffic ahead of us. Please be patient. PATIENT?? I’M CARRYING A BAG FULL OF FECES. EVERY time I smelled something even remotely sour, I would think, ‘sh*t!, it’s my sh*t! Everyone KNOWS!!! AAAAAHHH I’M A MONSTER!!!!!‘.

Finally, after almost 2-hours on the train, being jostled by one particularly rude teenager (who the hell rides a razor scooter inside a subway station?!), and schlepping half a mile in the freezing cold, I made it to the lab and dropped that sh*t off. Lemme tell ya, I have never been more relieved to have something over with in my 24 years of existence.

My life is literally a sh*t show.

The CRAM Diet

No recipe or restaurant recommendation today, folks (and honestly, who wants to eat after reading that, right??). But I wanted to reach out to others out there with the same symptoms as me- you are not alone!- and post what I’ve found to be the most effective way to deal with this crap…the CRAM DIET:

CRAM= Cereal, Rice, Applesauce, Milk (or lactose-free milk products in my case!)

Read more here: http://www.rightdiagnosis.com/diets/cram-diet.htm

Meds vs. Margs

About 2 months ago I started to write a post called “Margarita Medicine”; an ode to my favorite summer beverage chronicling my belief that there’s nothing that can’t be cured with good friends, and a pitcher of my favorite South-of-the-Border Sedative. Oopsy Daisies.

Kidney stones, ulcers...same difference

I typed the first paragraph Friday evening, went out with friends Friday night, and woke up at 4am Saturday morning with the worst stomach pain I have ever had in my life (read: Phil from Mod Fam “THERE’S AN ALIEN INSIDE OF ME!!”). Said stomach pain sent me on my first trip of many to the Emergency Room…two months, three hospital visits, 40+ pills, and one minor surgery later- turns out I’ve got ulcers. Yep, ULCERS. At the ripe old age of 24.

How did this happen? Well, long story short, the last 3 months have royally sucked. In my words to my Guffy last night, “I feel like I’m trying to ford a river and God keeps putting rocks in my backpack”.

Of course it hasn’t been all bad…but, it’s surprisingly easy to let the sucky overshadow the not-sucky; a complicated conundrum I’m working on in my personal life. In fact, I’m making a commitment right here, right now- once this post is posted, I promise, promise, promise as much positivity as possible in my prospective posts!

But for now, I feel the only healthy thing to do is to acknowledge what I’ve lost and let myself go through the grieving process…I mean, I’ve already lost gluten and dairy- and now, for 8 weeks I have also lost tomatoes (life without pasta sauce and ketchup is a sorry existence), all acidic foods (too many to list), all spicy foods (‘bye ‘bye green curry), all citrus fruit (can’t even have limeade, let alone a marg), alcohol (insult to injury), caffeine (already wasn’t a morning person and now you take away my coffee?!), and a plethora of other things I didn’t even know I was missing.

A chronicle so far of my journey through the 5 Stages of Grief:

Stage 1: Denial and Isolation…decided rather than “waste money” on the 7 block cab ride from the hospital, I would walk home to my apartment (denial). Made it 2 blocks. Sat alone on curb and called a car service to take me the remaining 5 blocks (isolation).

Stage 2: Anger…snapped at Whole Foods employee, “what do you MEAN you’re out of gluten-free bagels?! Unacceptable!”. Snapped at mother, “there is no way in HELL you’re making me drink cabbage juice!!”. Snapped at toddler who ran in front of my bike while he was eating an ice cream cone, “I hope you contract lactose intolerance you little sh*t.” (last one happened in my head).

Stage 3: Bargaining…“maybe if I make spaghetti and use half tomato sauce, half almond milk, the alkaline nature of the milk’s pH will balance the acidic nature of the tomato’s pH…”

Stage 4: Depression…literally cried (not “pretty-one-tear-down-the-cheek” crying. We’re talking “snot-oozing-down-the-chin” crying) after 3 futile attempts to sneak a morning cup of coffee from my parents’ burnt leftovers.

Stage 5: Acceptance…hasn’t happened yet. Still in Stage 4 as you can see by this post.

Happily, for all my complaining, there are still many delicious things one can eat with ulcers. And, on the plus side, I am learning a LOT of new recipes! Here’s one of them- and it’s good even if your stomach is perfectly fine, you lucky bastard.

Summer Beet Salad

Beet the heat.

Ingredients:

• 1.5 lbs Beets (about 4-5 mid-sized beets), chopped
• 1 lb red russet potatoes (about 5), chopped
• 1 cup baby carrots, chopped
• 1 yellow onion, chopped
• 2 tablespoons veganaise (or mayo)
• 1 tsp apple cider vinegar
• 2+ Tablespoons Dill, chopped (fresh is best!)
• Salt/Pepper to taste

Directions:

Bring 4 cups water to a boil. Add chopped Beets, boil 10-15 minutes, reduce to med heat. Add Potatoes and carrots, simmer 15 minutes. Add onion, simmer 5 minutes…all ingredients should be soft.

Strain mixture and run under cold water to cool everything off. Once cooled and dry, add mayo, vinegar, dill and s/p. Mix well, serve chilled!

Starting Over From Scratch

Clearly the most logical/classy thing to do with a mutant carrot is to turn it into "Billy Bob" teeth...

I was not blessed with the virtue of Grace. If there is a glass of red wine on the table, I will spill it. If there is a rug to trip on, down I go (usually managing to flash the room….wearing granny panties). If there is an opportunity to say “that’s what she said”, even if it’s in front of someone else’s Old-School-Republican grandparents, I shout it to the rooftops (seriously, it’s like Touretts with me. I think I need medication). Sometimes in life, you really, REALLY just want to push the ‘rewind’ button and get a do-over.

So I’ve been MIA for awhile…been gettin’ some pretty important ducks in a row- where I want to go in life, how I want to spend my time, who I want to spend it with, yada yada yada priorities and all that crap. But I think I’ve at least got one thing figured out- there are no do-overs in life. Most days all you can do is wipe up the wine, pick yourself up off the audition-room floor (yup, actually happened), hope your friend’s grandparents are deaf…and start over from scratch.

It takes some serious cajones to admit when you’re stuck. I would love to blame a quarter-life crisis, a soap-opera-like family drama, or a torrid forbidden love affair for my recent absence, but I can’t. Truth is, I’m a perfectionist. And the longer I put off writing something new, the more stressed out I got about what people would think. So I just wrote nothing at all. But that’s stupid. Even I know you should never just give something up entirely just because admitting you screwed up is embarrassing.

So here’s to getting back on the gluten-and-dairy-free horse. (That metaphor actually makes total sense when you think about it). I’m back, bitches. And I’m starting from scratch…

Nonna’s Home-Made Gnocchi w/Pumpkin Goat Cheese Sauce

(Thanks to Daitch for getting me off my culinary ass to make this)

Gnocchi

Ingredients:

• 2 lbs russet potatoes (about 3 large spuds)
• 1/4 cup egg, lightly beaten
• 1 cup gluten-free flour (or regular flour, whichever)…plus 1/4 for rolling
• 1 teaspoon sea salt

Directions:

Bring large pot of water to boil. Cut potatoes into fourths and boil until soft- about 20 minutes. Remove potatoes from water w/slotted spoon and remove skin (should come right off). Place potatoes on a large cutting board and break them up with a fork until they are evenly mashed- make sure they stay fluffy, not liquid-y. Place potatoes in a bowl and let cool about 15 minutes, or until they are cool enough that the egg will not cook. Pour beaten egg over potatoes, and fold in until mixed. Gradually, using a spatula or your hands, fold in the flour until you have a dough-like mixture that holds together. (Dough can be made a day ahead and refrigerated overnight).

Spread 1/4 cup of flour over cutting board. Using your fingers, roll pieces of dough into tiny balls (about the size of a hershey’s kiss), then roll once in flour until coated. Keep going till aaallllll the dough is gone and you’ve got a big pile of balls. Bring water back to a boil, toss in the gnocchi, boil for about 5-10 minutes! (Gnocchi will rise to the top of the water when they are cooked through).

Pumpkin Goat Cheese Sauce

Ingredients:

• 2-5 cloves garlic, chopped (depending on if you plan on kissing anyone that night…)
• 1 Tablespoon olive oil
• 1 cup pumpkin puree (canned is great)
• 2 cups chicken broth
• 1 tsp cinnamon
• 1/2 tsp nutmeg
• 1/2 tsp cloves
• 1 tsp sage, plus 1 tsp for topping
• 2 oz. goat cheese (or more)
• salt and pepper to taste
• 4 sausages (if you’d like =)..I think they add a nice little kick)

Directions:

Brown garlic in olive oil for about 3 minutes. Add pumpkin, cook 3 minutes. Add broth, cook 3 minutes. Stir in spices, cheese, cook until melted through. While this is cooking, brown sausages in separate pan. Once browned, cut into small pieces, add to sauce.

If there were a chance in Hell I was pregnant, I’d be worried…

…because ALL I want is PUMPKIN!!!!!

My preeeeecious...

I have never had a craving this all-consuming that borders so closely on addiction. I want pumpkin bread, pumpkin seeds, pumpkin pancakes, pumpkin spice lattes (Glynnis- you’re the BEST!)…I even started using pumpkin-scented BODY WASH. It’s bad, guys. But also, so, SO good.

Perhaps it has something to do with physiology…According to a study done by Dr. Alan R. Hirsch, director of the Smell and Taste Treatment and Research Foundation in Chicago, pumpkin and lavender were shown to be among the most arousing scents to women, but especially to men. What’s the reason for this? Well, for one thing, humans’ sense of smell is different from the other senses in that it is connected to the parts of the brain responsible for emotion and memory (remember Proust and his Madeleines?). So perhaps when one smells something baking in the oven, one might experience an emotion related to the comforts of home.

My Bates-Motel-themed pumpkin from Halloween 2010!

Now, many people don’t give much weight to this study (myself included, if I’m totally honest), and yet there is an undeniable emotional response when the holiday season rolls around (this for me begins Oct.1st when I begin gearing up for my favorite holiday of the year- HALLOWEEN!) and everyone busts out the nutmeg, the cinnamon, and yes, the PUMPKIN. Holiday diets be damned…I mean, pumpkin’s a squash, right? That’s totally a vegetable. Plus, who wants to freaking diet during the holidays? I mean seriously- that’s what New Year’s resolutions are for. Eat up, people!

And so, if you are like me and you’re dealing with a pumpkin love affair/addiction, here is my absolute favorite tried-and-true recipe for my mommy’s pumpkin bread. It can seriously be eaten for every meal. And I promise you, nothing in this wide world says “the holidays are here” better than the smell of this baking in the oven…

Mom’s Pumpkin Bread

Ingredients (enough for 2 loaves):

• 3 cups sugar
• 1 cup vegetable oil
• 4 eggs
• 3 cups flour (I use Bob’s Red Mill all-purpose gluten-free)
• 2 tsp baking soda
• 1/2 tsp baking powder
• 2 T cinnamon
• 1 T nutmeg
• 1 T ground cloves
• 1 T allspice
• 1 tsp salt
• 1+ cup chopped walnuts or pecans
• 1 cup pitted, chopped dates
• 2/3 cups water
• 2 cups canned pumpkin

Directions:

Preheat oven to 350º.

Mix sugar, oil & eggs. Sift dry ingredients. Add dates and nuts to flour mixture. Add flour mixture to egg mixture. Add H2O and pumpkin to mixture and blend thoroughly. Bake at 350° for 50-70 minutes depending on your oven.

WTF? (What’s That Frosting?)

OK, seriously, WTF? There's no way that cupcake was vegan and gluten-free...whatever that means. It's magical, Claire. Magical.

There are some holes only cupcakes can fill. (schmeh).

Being gluten and lactose intolerant (or as one very sensitive ex-boyfriend put it, being a “lactard” [lactose+retard= "lactard"]… A term I originally found offensive but I now embrace with open arms) makes it difficult to enjoy the sweeter things in life, i.e. baked goods. Luckily, I live in a very pretentious city where gluten-free is the new “in” thing and options for the gastro-intestinally-challenged abound.

Kelsey, the massochist.

Enter: Jax. My lovely NON-lactard friend who came to visit this past weekend from Boston. She, like me, is a self-professed snob. I mean, let’s be honest, only snobs refer to themselves as “foodies”. Jax told me that in all her trips to NYC one element had been sorely lacking: she had never had a proper NYC cupcake.

Horror of Horrors! NEVER been to Magnolia? Buttercup? Billy’s? (Insert mental picture of Mitchell- aka Jesse Tyler Ferguson- dramatically pointing his finger at Ted Durkis and yelling SHAME! I love you Mod Fam…) Not to mention my favorite bakery EVER to grace God’s good earth: BABYCAKES!!! It was decided then and there- Kelsey and Jax were going to take a weekend and do nothing but bakery hop. And thus, with nothing but Gchat and a dream, “Kelsey and Jax’s Epic NYC Cupcake Tour 2010″ was born.

After a 2-hour-long mapping and planning session, we had a plan-to-end-all-plans. We were going to start out at Bouchon bakery to get the Nutter Butter cookie (I ruv you, Alex), then head to Levain on the upper west side to get the best chocolate chip cookie this city has to offer (or at least the best I’ve found). Then we would skip across the park to the Met to see some art (snobs, remember?), then work our way down to Magnolia Bakery at Rockefeller Center. And that was just day 1…

I would have FAR too much to write if I went into the details of how we bit off more than we could chew (sorry, had to) so I’ll focus on the key points of our epic tour…Armed wth lactaid pills and water bottles, we ended up setting forth to Magnolia Bakery first, and there we destroyed 4- yup, FOUR- amazing cupcakes. Now, I don’t know ’bout the rest of you Cupcake Connoseiurs, but I MUCH prefer the non-traditional cupcakes at Magnolia. If they have Devil’s Food or Red Velvet (especially w/cream cheese frosting!!) it’s your lucky day. Too many people go for the “famous” vanilla, which is actually my least favorite and can tend to be dry.

Next we had a stroke of amazing luck and discovered a NEW cupcake place called Cake and Shake…Cake and Shake is actually a food cart that lives in two locations- one outside the Met Museum (how we found it the first time), and one that lives right by the south entrance of Washington Square Park (how we ran into it a second time and decided it was a sign from God that we were meant to partake in all the flavors we hadn’t had room to try the first time around). This place was really unique in that it’s the first time I’ve ever had “savory” cupcakes, i.e. not just “dessert” cupcakes. I had one called “Turkey Day” that was made of pumpkin bread and roast turkey, topped with cranberry sauce. Jax had one called “Toad in the Hole” (schmeh) that had english sausage and carmelized onions baked into a arm toastie biscuit. If you’re at all adventurous- TRY IT!! As far as their traditional fare, the cake itself was so-so, but the frosting was AMAZING. I mean who wouldn’t love nutmeg/cinnamon frosting on a beautiful fall day?

Hot.

And lastly, my favorite place in New York City…my safe haven, my home away from home, my security blanket of bakeries…BabyCakes. After trying the gluten-and-dairy-free brownie cupcake, and the holiest-of-holy-cow “chipwich”, Jax looked up at me at proclaimed- WTF?! WHAT’S THAT FROSTING?! I could literally go on for days about this place and what they use in their frosting and beyond, so I’ll let them do the talking…

In a city dominated by cupcakes overflowing with sugar, flour and butter cream, it’s easy for those with persnickety diets to feel left out. BabyCakes offers all-natural, organic and delicious alternatives free from the common allergens: wheat, gluten, dairy, casein and eggs. Rest assured, all sweeteners have been chosen responsibly and used sparingly. White sugar will never be found in our bakery, nor will we ever use toxic chemical sweeteners. Instead, most products are sweetened with agave nectar—a natural syrup from a cactus.

Erin McKenna
Founder,
BabyCakes NYC™

Dear Erin,

Marry me. Please.

Love, Kelsey

And so concluded Kelsey and Jax’s Epic Cupcake Tour 2010! To be continued, I’m sure…because really, for a “foodie”, there should never be an end to the search for Manhattan’s most perfect cupcake. And it is a responsibility I willingly accept.

 

Blame Canada.

 

Seriously? Bucolic incarnate.

 

Fall has always been my favorite season. Which is kinda weird considering I’m from San Diego where seasons are a completely foreign concept, and yet I’ve always been drawn to everything about autumn. Maybe it’s my subconscious reaction to knowing my birthday is right around the corner. Maybe it’s the reinstatement of the Pumpkin Spice Latte at Starbucks (Oh, how I wish I could afford you, PSL!). But whatever the reason, few things make me happier than leaves turning  pretty colors.

This particular fall has, to say the least, had some up’s and down’s. A lot more has been changing besides the leaves. What’s that saying? When it rains, it pours? Yeah, well…sometimes it’s a deluge. But you need the rain to make new things grow, right? (Wow. That is easily the cheesiest thing I’ve said on this blog so far. Sorry ’bout that. Back to comedy, now.)

In a moment of great genius, my mom had the idea to whisk me away to Canada for a long weekend to visit some friends who live there part of the year, and to see the sights of our weird neighboring country. I admit, all I knew about Canada was that I thoroughly enjoyed making fun of the Canadian accent (what’s that aboot, eh?), and that they were sympathetic to my love of ice hockey (thanks, Inman family!). I was prepared with my best Canada jokes about curling (seriously?? that’s an OLYMPIC sport??), wildlife (any country that has to have “Moose Crossing” signs on the freeway really deserves to be made fun of), and the generally unacceptable freezing-cold temperature/constant need to be wearing an entirely waterproof wardrobe. Then we drove up through Vermont, crossed the Canadian border…

…and now I want to move there.

Seriously, guys- Canada kind of rocks. First of all, people are actually NICE and FRIENDLY! If you accidentally bump someone on the street, they will apologize to you for being in the way. Then they will buy you a Molson. If you bump into someone on the streets of New York, you will get called a very unflattering euphemism and/or be beaten up. Then there’s the beer…Dudes, Canadian beer is awesome. Probably because all Canadians have nothing better to do than sit around and drink beer while watching the Canucks (that’s for you, Bryan), but still. Awesome. For reals- they think anything with an alcohol content below 6% is for children and the elderly. Speaking of sustenance, EVERYTHING comes in Maple flavor- from the coffee, to the chocolate, to the sausages. Talk about amazing. And then, there’s the enthusiasm for all things autumn…

 

Taken from a moving car, in the rain, mind you...

 

I have never in my life seen such amazing natural beauty as I did when I was in Quebec. The colors of the leaves were astounding, paired with brilliant blue skies and deep quiet lakes that stretched on forever. We passed farm, after farm, after farm that looked like it belonged in one of those Thomas Kinkade paintings. Everyone had a pumpkin or 5 on their front steps. Every place we went they offered us apple cider or some form of maple sugar. It was autumn paradise. Didn’t hurt that we hit the peak week for the leaves to change colors…

 

Merci beaucoup, Drew & Therese! Je t'aime!

 

So, in celebration of my new-found love of Canada, I will share with you the easiest, most comforting autumn dessert ever. Seriously, if this doesn’t make you want to curl up by the fire in a plaid flannel shirt and watch leaves fall, I don’t know what will. Special thanks to Therese Massicot for passing this one down to me!

Baked Maple Apples

Ingredients:

• 1 (or however many you want) large apple…Therese used “Cortland” apples, but any variety will do.
• 1 tsp. Maple Syrup (per apple)
• pinch of cinnamon
• pinch of allspice

Directions

Preheat oven to 350º. Core apples, but leave the bottom intact, effectively making a little shot glass sized hole in the apple. Pour 1 tsp. of maple syrup (be snobby- the better the maple syrup, the better these will taste) inside apple. Dust with cinnamon and allspice. Bake on 350º for 20 minutes. Remove from oven, let cool for about 10 minutes before serving!

 

Wanna come oover to my hoose to watch the Nordiques rohst the Canucks, eh?

 

*unrelated, self-indulgent side note: don’t forget you can subscribe to this blog by e-mail! Just click the button at the top right hand corner of the page to sign up and you’ll receive a totally-not-annoying e-mail update when I post something new. That is, assuming you think my blog is worth reading…if not, how come you made it all the way down to this part of the post, EH??? Caught you.