Love is not what I thought it would be. Less a certainty and more a strengthening. A muscle formed under skin. A firming up of the soul.

I love you husband.

Jen

The novel Revolutionary Road is making me all frantic about everybody’s wine/water content, especially my own.  

It all began when I read this: “Mettre de l’eau dans son vin.” Or, as Clotide from Chocolate & Zucchini describes: Literally translated as, “putting water in one’s wine”  (i.e. selling out on one’s ideals, dreams).

The photo was taken in the depths of the Veuve Cliquout Champagne House in Reims, France. It was the year of the great comet of 1811. A perfect vintage. But saved in barrels for 200 years, it’s no better than pure vinegar.

A perfect champagne unsipped - kind of like a dream left unlived.  

I am not even sure adding un  to a word really makes it a word.

I think I just really need a weekend.

Anywho – onto the sunny side – after I declared it my birthday week (a few days early , no less), Ash has taken to bringing me coffee in bed each morning. And this Saturday, he is taking me for a birthday dinner of great mystery. Just another thing that makes him all wine, no water. 

So, looking forward to a high-content weekend!

Jen 

On days like this, I need a good view. Even if it’s just a new photo on my desktop. Ash tried for so long to get me out of bed this morning that he ended up back in bed himself. We taunted the clock until the last minute, blankets pinned at every corner, and then rushed to get to work. I blame the cold. And the dark. And the weeks off we spent draining our champagne supply. And him, for being so nice to wake up to.

Photo via here as seen on Bliss

No, it’s not the remnants of our leftover Christmas Tree. It’s fresh dill. Found (in the off season) in those handy little plastic boxes near the bagged lettuces (which I never buy, except for the romaine hearts because romaine is a wild creature in its raw form and the crunchy hearts are the best part anyway).

And when the outside world looks like this:

It’s more important than ever to find ways to taste life (and I am talking literally here because I no longer have any interest in going outside).

So, go ahead and make this Dill and Chicken Soulvaki for dinner. After many consecutive weeks of homemade soups, we were both shocked at how alive and fresh this tasted. I even broke out the new mandolin, which is a genius invention for tricking husbands into thinking you’ve developed Top Chef worthy knife skills. Plus, when the cucumbers are all uniformly slippery and thin, they really soak up all that lemon juice, olive oil and salt (a brilliant combination, I must say. Like us).

Notes on recipe: I used a regular cucumber, grilled chicken just prior, had tortillas not flatbreads and absolutely recommend waiting until you have actual greek yogurt on hand because it makes all the difference. I used this one. I also added an extra teaspoon or so of fresh dill right at the end, so it stood above all the other flavours.

Yes, Ina would be proud.

Speaking of Ina (aka the famed Barefoot Contessa), I have added a link to Ina’s insider Guide to Paris on my Paris page, which I plan to finally get working on. If you are going anytime soon, you will want her list (save the hotel she recommends, which is about 800 euros per night).

A glass of bubbly for you. And for me.

This weekend, we took our nephew to Granville Island and stopped in front of this bakery:

Outside was the usual busker, in his tuxedo, playing a perfectly timed La Vie En Rose.

We danced.

It was one of those moments that make the whole day feel new.

Like a little January 1 on a January 3rd.

And that’s how I plan to spend my year.

And I can post a sickening number of headshots if I want to. And I do. We were looking through old photos last night (sipping on a tidy, piccolo of Henkell) and we found so many pictures of us that we haven’t seen in ages. Do other people like to sit at the kitchen table and watch flickr slideshows of their trips? Is that normal?

Oh Paris! I am busty in this shot! Thanks for the lift, Ash!

And, of course, my other true love. My eternal sidekick, Whiskey, who perfectly balances me in more ways than I can say. As excited as I am for Mexico, I already miss her. She loves her new dad.

And finally, my favourite shot from the summer:

Who doesn’t love a man who can appreciate a nice baguette?

Jen xo

Oh Paris, how I miss you. It helps to go to places like Jules. It also helps to listen to her. And it helps to linger too long and drink too many samples of Andre Vinet Muscadet (FRA, $23) here.

But nothing really helps that much. Except going.

Jen

I love the store Plenty. How to describe it? It’s like the perfect group of really fun and interesting people at a laid-back party, but catered, with great music, food and wine. And that’s a lot to say about a clothing store. Anyway, I just bought this jacket for $69 (on sale from $94) and I have to say it is very Catherine Deneuve without being uncomfortably stand out-ish (in the way that anything a bit dressy can feel in Vancouver sometimes). I love it. Comfy and fancy all at once. Mine is in a khaki tone and I got it on Robson.

Poof! The weekend is gone.

A slow, hazy start to Champagne Wednesday. A fridge in Paris. Probably in a convenience store. Nowhere in Paris is too lowly for a cooler full of champagne. No one would dare say you are being too extravagant.

Last night we went to Brock House for a site visit. If you, or some you know, is interested in event planning (and have the slightest bit of sales savvy or common sense), I recommend you run with your resume in hand to the nearest wedding venue. They need your help. Desperately.

Thanks Jen for this dreamy polaroid.