Life and to the Full

Saturday, August 20, 2016

Episode 2: The Little Things

for a preface, see the home page of my work stories: Paradise (aka The Job)

"Another day, another dollar," was a phrase much-spoken by a former coworker. She'd be tying on her apron, singing to herself, preparing for eight hours of mind-numbing dishwashing. Nearly any conversation with her would veer toward this general relinquishing of herself to the necessity of work. Another day. Another day. Another day.

Now I find myself saying the same thing to coworkers.
"Hey, how are you?"
"Eh, good. Another day."
And then my mind leaps to another similar phrase. "Different day, same old crap."

This is where my mind was the other morning at breakfast, doing all the usual things.
Setting up the dining room. Clearing tables. Serving this one gal her usual. Ad libbing some sign language to the resident who forgot her hearing aids. All the usual things.

I'm wiping down a table when a voice breaks into my thoughts. "Haben ich frohlich tag," says the voice. I look up to see Mr. Toast (so named because he LOVES toast, of all things). He's paused by the table, smiling faintly, waiting for a response with a twinkly Santa expression on his face. Speaking in German is sort-of a running joke between us. I've seen him try to start that joke with others, and they never would run with it, which is totally their choice. Foreign languages were some of my favorite classes in school, so I have joined in heartily.
So far, I've learned that Mr. Toast grew up in a tiny Minnesota village where he spoke three languages: German at home, German and Czech with the neighbor kids, and English in school. I've also learned that for all he doesn't remember, Mr. Toast can recite The Jabberwocky by Lewis Carrol without fault. Then there's the bits of German he still remembers. For example, "Haben ich frohlich tag" means "Have a good day."

Long story short, Mr. Toast is wishing me well, smiling and waiting. I smile back.
"Danke," I say, thanking him, wishing I knew more German. "Danke schoen."
That's our whole conversation, just seven words, but it sends him hobbling out of the dining room with a smile on his face, and that makes me smile, too.

It's just one of those little things. A kind word here or there, a sarcastic one-liner by another staff member, or finding that someone saved me a piece of yesterday's German Chocolate Brownie and labeled the plastic wrap with my name. Chocolatey sugar, for me? Yeah, that's all it takes. Little things...moments that abolish the idea of Just Another Day. Little moments that make the day.

The view above is from a small wilderness hidden in Redwood County, Minnesota. You could easily miss it, driving along quiet highway 19 as cornfields and bean fields flash past. There's trees only wherever there's a farm site or a creek and the prairie rolls out in all directions. You cross a river, blink a few times through the town of Redwood Falls, and continue on into more farms and fields.

What you don't know is that you've missed a little piece of the wild: hidden beyond the little houses is the largest municipal park in Minnesota, Alexander Ramsey Park, nicknamed "Little Yellowstone."

If you're headed through the area and looking to enjoy some beauties of nature, this is the place to stop, and there's several ways to enjoy it.

Take a look
If you're short on time, make sure you at least stop by the overlook of Ramsey Falls. Waterfalls are an unusual site in rolling farm country, and the falls are mesmerizing to watch. Don't want to take a long walk? That's fine. There's vehicle access to a parking lot right near the overlook.

Take a walk
There's pathways that wind through the park, crossing the river at several points and offering views of riverside cliffs, rushing water, and all kinds of native plants. For people with kids, there are a few playgrounds within the park. There's also a zoo that features farm animals like goats and chickens, as well as animals native to Minnesota prairies, including buffalo, elk, and prairie dogs.

Have a seat
First, there's benches throughout the park as well as shelters with picnic tables, all perfect for eating or chatting while admiring nature. What I highly recommend is bringing a folding chair and setting it in the shallow creek that flows away from the falls. While the Redwood River is too swift flowing and deep for this, the creek is a perfect spot to set up a chair and enjoy the cool water on your feet while reading a book or watching dragon flies zooming about.

Camp out
If you want to stay a little while, the park features electric and "rustic" (non-electric) campsites with full bathroom facilities nearby, all at reasonable rates. The whole place is so close to town that if your campfire cooking goes awry, you always have the options of some local restaurants.

Follow a bunny trail
What I mean is, follow a deer trail. This I recommend with a caution that once you do this, you're on your own on uneven and sometimes steep or narrow trails. However, if your joints and fitness level are up to this, you're in for some fantastic scenery, wildlife, and nature. I personally find it thrilling to see the ground fall away steeply from the trail to either side or to army crawl up to a cliff edge or stumble upon riverside cactus nestled in the rocks (yes, cactus in Minnesota!).

Take a dip
Like the last suggestion, this one is at-your-own-risk. It is a park, so don't expect lifeguards or warning signs. However, as long as you use common sense, this can be a fun way to spend a hot, muggy Minnesota summer day. The river is too fast and deep for this, so keep your swimming limited to Ramsey Creek. Some good places to get wet: at the head of Ramsey Falls when the water is low and slow, or further upstream when the water is high and fast. There's a path that crosses the creek near these spots, so it's very easy to access. It's cool to think about how the water rushing past will join the Redwood River, then the Minnesota River, then the Mississippi, and ultimately the Gulf of Mexico and the Atlantic Ocean.

Do you know of any hidden wildernesses or best kept secrets of Minnesota? I'd love to hear about them in the comments and have the opportunity to explore them myself.

Ramsey Falls is quite the view (though here it's blocked by our arms!)

This could be your spot in Ramsey Creek

This hidden beach is on my picnic bucket list

Steep terrain leading down to the river

Riverside rocks: a great place to look for Prickly Pear Cactus

A cactus close-up

#GreaterMinnesota #camping #parks

Sunday, August 14, 2016

Best Eats of Montreal

To my mind, vacation means seeing the sights, taking in the scenery, and feasting on local eats. Naturally, when we took a weeklong vacation to Montreal, one of my initial goals was to scour blogs for advice on the best food to be had in the city. In composing our list of must-eats, we tried to strike a balance between affordability and amazing food. This is pretty standard for us, as that money tree has not yet sprang up in our backyard.

Between yelp reviews and Pinterest searching for eat-happy blog postings, here is the list of restaurants we chose to visit:

Resto du Village. Located just off famous St Catherine Street in The Village, this 24-hour café serves all the classic eats of a Canadian diner. There’s Paté Chinois (Shepherd’s Pie), for one. Of course they also serve poutine, the unofficial national food of Canada. In all my searches, nearly every food blog mentioned that poutine is a must-eat when visiting the great white north. We obeyed this advice, ordering a classic poutine (fries, brown gravy, and unbreaded cheese curds) and an “all dressed” version, which was basically the classic but with every imaginable meat and vegetable sprinkled on top. We devoured the works with zeal and left full and happy. Poutine is great fuel for all the walking involved in exploring the city. Cost pre-tip: 23 CAD.

Resto du Village

Mountains of poutine

Tim Hortons. This we chose because it’s an icon of Canadian food. It is to Canada what Dunkin Donuts or Krispy Kreme is to the USA. We ordered a half dozen donuts and tried to make them last most of the week. By “tried,” I mean they were devoured within 24 hours of purchasing. Half dozen donuts: 6 CAD.

Schwartz's Montreal smoked sandwich and cherry soda.

Schwartz’s. This was on the top five of several blogs, and after eating there, the reason is clear. Montreal smoked meat is to die for, and Schwartz’s does an excellent job of piling up the thin layers of meat into a tantalizing sandwich. Pair it with poutine to share, a big dill pickle, and cherry sodas. This was the recommendation of our energetic server, and dang was he right. My oh my…! Cost pre-tip: 34 CAD.

Hoegaarden beer

Terasse sur L’Auberge. Eating on a rooftop is hard to beat, and this particular rooftop eatery has views of surrounding Old Montreal. The atmosphere is mellow chic and the place has friendly servers, good food, and pleasing beverages. My hubby recommends pairing lobster tails with a glass of Hoegaarden beer. I chose the Duck Confit Grilled Cheese because I love anytime people take liberties with the eternally versatile grilled cheese. While that was good, I was disappointed in my 12 dollar mojito, which was mostly ice and fruit with maybe 2 oz of beverage. Tasty, yes, but not 12 dollar’s worth. However, I still recommend the restaurant and would love to return for appetizers and a different cocktail at some future time. Overall, this was a small vacation splurge but enjoyable. Cost pre-tip: about 75 CAD.

Lobster tails on a bed of greens

The Green Spot. This is called “G-Spot” by locals, for whom this restaurant apparently hits THE spot. The interior has a North-American diner feel, with red vinyl cushioned booths and a wooden bar with stools. We got poutine, which we had fallen in love with by this point, and enjoyed the casual atmosphere while downing the beautiful fries with luscious deep brown gravy and melty curds. I got a poutine called “Avalanche,” which had big strips of bacon laying on top the epic heap of fries. Hubby got the “Italienne,” which was fries with pasta sauce in place of the gravy, along with pepperoni. It was good, but he wished he’d gotten one with the classic gravy. Our server was very helpful – she even got us the 4:00 beer special about 15 minutes before it began, for which Hubby was impressed. He likes beer, what can I say? Cost pre-tip: 29 CAD.

St-Viateur Bagel. The best bagels we have ever had. We stopped in and picked up enough bagels for breakfast for the entire week. Hubby got his “Everything” or “All Dressed” bagels (“tout garnie” in French), and I got some cinnamon-raisin. The one surprise we had there was that the tea Hubby ordered was made from a tea bag. We had figured that being out of America meant tea would be done from loose-leaf and not from dust-tea in a bag. It was still good, just perhaps unexpected. That being said, it was still one of the best stops we made the whole trip, as we enjoyed those bagels all week, every morning with our coffee and tea on our rental home’s patio. One dozen bagels, one coffee, and one tea: 7 CAD.

Jardin Nelson. We sat out front with a view of Place Jacques Cartier, the pedestrian tourist market that runs through the center of Old Montreal. It was chilly outside, but the heaters on the patio kept everything at a comfortable temperature. Then there was the glorious mushroom crepe, which was heaven itself. Granted, I’m a mushroom lover, so anything that involves those fungi caramelized in butter makes me feel like I’ve just been smooched. Note that while the salmon platter is good, it is not recommended to anyone with a hearty appetite. They had good beer and hard cider, too. If we went back, I’d go to the courtyard in the back and sit for hours listening to the live music and drinking my way through a pitcher or two of sangria. Only downside to enjoying this region of Montreal is the tourist pricing. Cost pre-tip: 69 CAD.

Corneli’s. This classy Italian restaurant is located in the heart of Little Italy. We arrived at 2 pm, so it was quiet and we got a seat by the window and attentive service. We each enjoyed a glass of wine, complementary focaccia bread with peppers and oil, and shared an excellent pizza canadienne It was affordable enough that the bill was reasonable, but the interior was so classy that my hubby even ate his pizza with a fork. Cost pre-tip: 39 CAD.

Focaccia bread and peppers in oil

The view of Boulevard Saint-Laurent in Little Italy

Pizza Canadienne

Chipotle et Jalapeño. We had intended to go to O’Thym’s in The Village(which features BYOB), but it was packed, so we wandered around the corner and discovered this little place. The Aztec soup was a great starter. Hubby had some Mexican beer and quesadillas, and I got lost in the flavors of a chicken mole enchilada. The atmosphere is relaxed and it appears they sell Hispanic groceries there as well, if you’re looking for authentic ingredients. Probably the most impressive part was the waiter speaking French at one table, Spanish at another, and English at yet another. He switched so easily between the three that we were astounded. The interior is all-white, with white walls, chairs, and tables. There’s occasional splashes of color from art on the walls and from the wall of Hispanic groceries. Between the excellent food, uncluttered atmosphere, and friendly service, we highly recommend the experience. Cost pre-tip: 38 CAD.

Chicken mole enchilada

We were in Montreal for a total of one week, so we only scratched the surface of the good eats available there. Have you had some Montreal food adventures? Where and what do you recommend eating?

Saturday, August 13, 2016

Episode 1: Out for blood

for a preface, see the home page of my work stories: Paradise (aka The Job)

Today's work story involves one main character: I’ll call her All-Star because she is the self-appointed chairperson of everything she thinks is wrong with our facility. Yesterday she was out for blood because of some redundancy in the menu. By out for blood, I mean she came to the kitchen door with a sharp knife and a bucket and used her most chastising tone to demand from me a gallon of my own personal supply of human blood. Ok, not really, but metaphorically, yes. She wanted my blood.

Anyway, before I get to that, some background may be needed. We’ve been running a new 16-week menu for a while now and there are hordes of problems with it, all the fault of our food supplier who wrote the menu in the first place. One problem is that items are being repeated several times within one week. What elderly Minnesota farming community doesn’t want the southern favorite of okra five times in one week? Clue: yeah, none. Then there’s the problem of fancy names no one comprehends, the seafood and fish five times per week, the disregard of food standards, double vegetables, skipping the starch that is required, and having four weeks of chocolatey desserts followed by four weeks of fruit desserts. Needless to say, we are constantly hearing complaints and reassuring residents that on our next rotation of the menu we will have this fixed.

This is where All-Star comes in. We had served “Spanish Omelet” at breakfast, which in bulk means tomato and onion in a slab of egg, very like an egg bake. Then for noon we had Frittata (another “fancy name” that no one understands), which is basically an egg bake. So…the ridiculous menu had me serve everyone veggie egg bake for both breakfast and noon meal. They turned out nicely, beautiful veggies in golden egg with a buttery edge. I thought it was good for what it was. However, it was redundant. Nothing I can do about that until the next rotation! Enter All-Star, wheeling her walker up to the kitchen door to ask me “what happened with the menu today?” She’s on the Food Committee, so she already knows why the menu is flawed. She just wants to watch me squirm. I explain as matter-of-factly as possible what the situation was and that it’s something we will fix on the next rotation. “Very sorry…” as I walk away to do the numerous piles of dishes. I start telling my manager what message All-Star had lovingly brought me when the other kitchen door opened. All-Star apparently had more to say.

“Oh, hey All-Star, I was just telling Manager what you told me…” I say, approaching the door. I study her searching look. “Or did you need something else…?”
“Well,” she stammers. “They’re just…very upset. They’re very upset about the menu today.”
Didn’t I just explain? I make what the menu tells me to make. When there’s a menu error, we discover it day-of and fix it for next time.
“There’s nothing I can do about it now. It’s good to know what the residents are thinking, thank you. We’ll fix it for next time.”
She answers me with stares. She stares the hobgoblin witchery stare that seems to be searching my skin for weak points where she can begin peeling it off with her fingernails. I do my best to stare back. I can smell her lust for my blood. I wish suddenly to run to the spice shelf and douse myself in garlic powder. Maybe she’d follow me, teeth bared, eyes wide with thirst, a hiss escaping her pale white lips.
“Get back!” I’d cry, and pray that the butter knife in my hand contains some silver. A silver dagger, a silver bullet…the only way to combat the undead.
But as it turns out, she’s only standing at the kitchen door, calmly staring death into me.
Finally I break the silence: “I’m sorry; if I had a time machine I could fix it.” And I close the door.

What more could I say? Nothing. What more could I give? Blood. Buckets of my blood and an apology on my knees.

But it’s not gonna happen. I’ve lived to fight another day. Until next time…All-Star.

P.S. I feel compelled to mention that this whole story falls under the category of "First World Problems," in which people who get three square meals a day complain that two of them were almost the same thing. Seriously.