Maybe the journey isn’t so much about becoming anything. Maybe it’s about unbecoming everything that isn’t really you so you can be who you were meant to be in the first place. ―
Fall… The time when everything bursts with its last beauty, as if nature had been saving up all year for the grand finale. ―
Every experience no matter how bad it seems, holds within it a blessing of some kind. The goal is to find it. ― Buddha
Our lives are made
In these small hours
These little wonders,
These twists & turns of fate
Time falls away,
But these small hours,
These small hours still remain
– Rob Thomas
Life should not only be lived, it should be celebrated and nothing says “celebration” more than a gorgeous layer cake. Continue reading “little wonders, big celebrations: cinnamon layer cake”
They’re pink, gorgeous, and probably the ultimate sign of spring. Whether they are cherry, crabapple or magnolia blossoms; streets, parks and gardens throughout the city transform, almost overnight, with these beauties. When all this is going on here in Montréal, it also means that we are still weeks away from the start of berry season and a seasonal snacking cake can look very much like an autumn cake (minus the spring blossom styling!). Lucky for us, we still have plenty of apples and parsnips from our last harvest.
Continue reading “apple and parsnip cake”
You don’t forget the face of the person who was your last hope. -Suzanne Collins
Growing up, my parents never wasted any food. Although, we always had just enough to eat, we certainly didn’t have enough to waste. But I learned the real reason behind their no-waste policy at age 9 during our first visit to India.
After much preparation, our suitcases are packed with gifts until they are ready to burst. Returning to our homeland from Canada, it’s unthinkable to arrive empty-handed. We leave on a cold Saturday afternoon in December. Our seven week long trip would span over the Christmas holidays to ensure the least amount of disruption to our lives here. We arrive in Bombay, as it is called at this time or Mumbai, as the locals call it, in the dark of the night. Compared to Montréal International Airport (otherwise known as Mirabel), Santa Cruz airport is literally a few small buildings strung together. Exiting the airplane, onto the tarmac, the first things that hit you are the odour and the humidity. Eventually, you learn to accept the odour, but the humidity is unrelenting, even in the middle of the night. My parents had warned me about how different India is compared to Canada, but still, I find myself unprepared. Within minutes of exiting the plane, India no longer feels like home to me anymore. Six years abroad can do that when you are so young. Continue reading “hunger & hope: banana bread with nuts & dates”
In the midst of a Canadian winter, the beauty of dead hydrangeas is a reminder of what was and what’s to come.
Past mid-February, here in the Northern hemisphere, we are just one month away from spring equinox. Even though the amount by which sunrise and sunset change each day is now perceivable and though the days are becoming noticeably longer, here in Montréal, our streets are lined with huge banks of snow. Playing outside with my youngest this weekend, I couldn’t help notice that there are still a few dried flower heads on my hydrangea tree lurking above the two feet of snow on our front yard -a reminder that far below the lifeless sheet of snow and ice, comfortably and patiently, life awaits.
Continue reading “spiced carrot and apple cake”
I’ll paint my mood in shades of blue, paint my soul to be with you. -Céline Dion
Years ago, when we were but newlyweds, while hiking in the Charlevoix region of Québec, we noticed blueberry shrubs growing all along the side of the trail. They were the famous bleuets sauvages, the wild blueberries of Québec. They have been thriving here for thousands of years, native to the glacial soils of our boreal forests. It was early in the season and the berries were young and green. But how ever young and green they were, they were waiting; waiting for eager hands to seek them when the time was right, when they would be ripened to shades of blue. Continue reading “shades of blue – part 3: blueberry lemon cake with cinnamon”