Well, it was a long weekend, so that means the exalted or reviled grab-bag blog. As 50 Cent is fond of saying, hate it or love it? Daddy ain’t around, probably committin’ felonies. OK, not true, and my Family Day weekend wasn’t spent with my jailbird daddy – it was spent with Darcy, Susie, my mom, and my dad, who ain’t committin’ no jacked-up felonies.
Boots, Spring; tights, Aldo; shirt-dress, H&M; cream belt, vintage; brown belt, Suzy Shier; tank top, Urban Outfitters; earrings, gift from Erin; necklace, bracelets, and bird pin, vintage; nameplate bracelet, craft fair.
Sure, the nameplate bracelet is broken, but I like to wear it anyway, and it’s survived about 15 years of ownership, so give it some slack, all right?
Darcy and I went out to East Side Mario’s for supper on Friday because every so often we like to gorge on unlimited salad, soup, and bread at what we call “Generic Restaurant TMs” (the “TM” stands for the trademark symbol). And, as per usual, we left wondering why we ate at said Generic Restaurant TM. It’s like Bart with Lisa’s electric-shock cupcake – we never learn, and keep going back for more.
The La Palette experience.
Saturday at noon, you could have found me at La Palette, in Toronto, where Susie and I went for lunch/brunch before heading to the National Home Show. I sought out this restaurant after reading an article in Toronto Life about its French onion soup, which, for the record, is soup I have a hard time not ordering if it’s on the menu. Thus, my ongoing quest for the perfect French onion soup. Toronto Life called La Palette’s concoction “peerless,” and I have to say I disagree. I was disappointed in the soup because I didn’t think it was cheesy enough, there was an odd tang to it that made me wince slightly every time I ate a spoonful, some of the bread chunks were hard, and it arrived at the table merely warm, not hot. Sorry, Toronto Life, this March’s Food & Drink article was wasted on me and my common taste buds that can’t appreciate a slow-roasted beef bone broth. On the bright side, though, Susie very much enjoyed her omelette, greens, and “frites,” and the bread basket was pretty decent.
What I wore to the Home Show: Boots, Spring; tights, Secret; sweater-dress, Le Chateau; feathered necklace, Charlotte Russe; bracelet, necklace and bird pin, vintage; earrings, gift from Erin.
Susie and I.
The pictures above were taken just before Susie and I left the Home Show, and our smiles mask our bitter disappointment with the hour and a half we basically wasted at the Direct Energy Centre (it was good fortune that Susie won the tickets, and that we didn’t pay for them!). The show was oddly bi-polar, as if it couldn’t make up its mind to be a flea market or an actual home show. One minute we were looking at hulking garage doors and scratch-resistant flagstone, and the next minute, our eyes were being blinded by the shiny silver buckles of knock-off purses dangling precariously on particle board across the aisle. So strange!!! Susie and I went to see the Rockettes and their Radio City Christmas Spectacular a few years ago, and the performance was so weird and disjointed that we joked we must be on an acid trip. The Home Show experience elicited similar comments.
The endangered Krispy Kreme, in its natural habitat.
After Susie and I were finished at the Home Show, we decided we wanted/deserved a treat. Cupcakes won out as the most desirable confection, and this decision was determined by the simultaneous squeals of excitement we both let out once the word “cupcake” was mentioned. Fast-forward two and a half hours, and Susie and I are sitting in my car, eating chocolate-glazed Krispy Kreme doughnuts.* We couldn’t find a cupcake shop in the area we were in, and since we each had a voucher from FabFind for six free Original Krispy Kremes, we gave up the cupcake search after high winds, transit inadequacy, and pure frustration left us deflated and rabid for sugar. Family Day Weekend, Part 1, end scene.
Tomorrow I’ll regale you with Sunday’s second-hand purchases. The antique malls brought forth much bounty, and I can’t wait to share the fruits of my foraging!
*Did you know a bizarrely located Krispy Kreme standalone store exists on Harbord Street in Toronto? I can’t decide whether it’s good or bad for me to have acquired this little piece of information.