Tuesday, July 31, 2018

Dying Light

The sun sets earlier than a month ago. I need to remember that for next time.

Of course, by the time I find the time to seek out a sunset photo, the sun will set even earlier than it did last night.


I never get bored of visiting Andrew Hayden Park to watch the dying light. I'm not alone. On the other side of the tree that stood to my left, two women stood with a camera on a tripod. I wasn't eavesdropping, but I could catch snippets of conversation, where one of the women was giving photo advice to the other.

Passing on tips and words of wisdom: even if you have lots of light, a tripod will always give you a sharper image... the smaller the aperture, the greater the depth of field, the longer the required exposure...




Bats flew overhead, coming so close to me that I could hear the flapping of their wings. But I wasn't bothered: they were keeping the mosquitoes at bay.

The steady stream of sailboats, their sails lowered, under engine power, were returning to harbour, the lit buoys guiding them safely home.

I arrived just as the sun reached the horizon, from behind a darkening cumulus cloud, far in the distance. Perhaps, as far away as Quyon or beyond. The red orb made one last showing before dipping below the horizon.



I prefer the light just after the sun has gone. When the light reflects from under passing clouds. When a yellow glow turns to orange, to pink, and then to purple.

Shadows grow everywhere. Silhouettes become more dramatic. Contrast increases with darkness against the light.

Eventually, the sky would become a rich indigo, but I had to pack up and leave before then, while I could still see distinctions in the grass, could still see the darkened spots of goose poop to avoid stepping in them.

Only a couple of vehicles remained in the parking lot. I wasn't the only photographer walking back to a car.

Above me, looking from west, to above, to east, Venus, Jupiter, Saturn, and Mars were making their trek across the sky, toward the dying light.



Monday, July 30, 2018

No Regrets (Again)

There are few times where I regret having done something but I would rather regret an action than have a regret for having an opportunity to do something and not doing it.

When I learned that several people from my graduating high-school year were getting together, I was initially reluctant to attend. Years ago, I realized that any high-school friend that I wanted to keep in touch with was someone that I already keep in touch with.

My best friend throughout my secondary-school years is still my best friend, today. He was the best man at my wedding: I was the best man at his. We have travelled through Scotland together, in search of Roland Axam's home. We have roamed the streets of New York City, in search for the best cups of coffee.

Some friends that I knew in elementary school and continued our friendship through high school are still friends that I reach out to today, even though we live in separate cities.

It was one of my high-school friends—still one of my good friends—who gave me the heads up about the reunion. When he told me who organized the event, I was interested in seeing her again. I had fond memories of her when we were in school and had run into her from time to time in the years that followed our graduation. We had briefly followed each other on Facebook, but when I culled many people from my list of connections, she was among the many who went.

There were a couple of other names that were mentioned, who I had known through various mutual friendships, but the majority of names from years gone by were either those with whom I couldn't match a face or names of people that I barely knew when we were in the same classes.

I debated whether I would join them, thinking that I would only be doing so out of idle curiosity, but mostly to confirm what I have been telling myself for years: the friends that I want are the friends that I already have.

On the day of the reunion, DW asked me if it was okay for her to stay at home. How could I refuse? I hadn't fully made up my mind to attend, either.

But then I told myself something that I've been telling myself for most of my life: if I went, there was only a slim chance that I would regret going, and that would be a regret that wouldn't last long; if I didn't go, however, I might regret missing out, and that regret could haunt me for years to come, not knowing if I made the right decision.

One pint, I promised myself. I would stay for one pint. I wanted to say hello to the person who organized the reunion. I knew that there would be at least two people there who could put me at ease there: my friend who told me about the reunion and his wife. If, after the pint, I wanted to stay, I would. If my pint was done and there was nothing more for me to say, was no one else to keep me, I could at least say I went.

No regrets.

My friend and his wife wanted to leave before I finished my pint. I threw down the remaining mouthfuls and said my goodbye to the host. While I recognized many people who were acquaintances over the five years of secondary school, there was no one with whom I had memories, whether fond or otherwise.

Our hostess didn't remember the event that was my fondest memory of some time that we shared. One of the teachers from the school was there, and he remembered me, but I had to remind him that I never was one of his students. Our paths crossed a few times, through some of my friends who had him as a teacher and during one school trip. Our chat at the reunion was less than a minute.

So, the high-school reunion is over. I can say that I'm glad that I attended. It confirmed what I knew all along. The friends that I still have are the friends that I want.

Our hostess told me she'd reach out next year, when she plans to hold the next reunion. I smiled, thanked her for organizing this one. Yes, definitely reach out, I lied through my smiling teeth.

I won't attend. And again, I'll have no regrets.


Thursday, July 26, 2018

Beer O'Clock: Laura's Pick

I'm allergic to cherries. But that's okay, because I've never been a huge fan of them, except when they're candied.

Call it a sweet craving.

So, you're probably asking yourself, why would I bother to review a cherry ale? And a sour one at that? (If you may recall, I don't like sour ales.)

When I visited Kichesippi Beer Company, last week, my intention was to try another seasonal that they had released: the Remic Rapids West Coast IPA. But the person behind the counter started talking up another seasonal so much, I had to give it a try.

I may not like sour beer or cherries, but I can still be objective when I try an ale that is both, can't I?

Can I?
Laura's Sour Cherry Wheat
Kich Staff Pick No.7 (4.5% ABV)
Kichesippi Beer Company
Ottawa, ON
Appearance: an unfiltered peach-pink with plenty of effervescence in the pour, with a white, bubbly head that immediately dissipates, just as though I was pouring a soda. The large bubbles clung to the inside of the glass, but quickly shrunk to tiny pearls.

Nose: candied cherries with only a touch of sourness.

Palate: more candied cherries, with only enough sourness to live up to the claim that there was any. The lush Montmorency cherry flavours were the star of the ale, and I detected a sweetness with the sour. The fruit remained in the finish.

Overall impression: despite being allergic to cherries, I think that the boil countered whatever it is that makes me react to them. And because the flavour was candied, with only a hint of sourness, I found this ale to be a pleasing summer thirst quencher. With the heat and humidity that we've experienced in Ottawa, this summer, Laura's Sour Cherry Wheat cuts my thirst.

Laura Oattes has been a brewer with Kichesippi Beer for more than five years and chose sour cherries for this mid-summer thirst quencher (apparently, it was either this or malt liquor). I'm glad she went for the former.

According to the lad who talked me into picking up a couple of cans of Laura's brew, the company sold 3,000 litres in only three weeks. They are currently working on a second batch.

Beer O'Clock rating: 🍺🍺 While this is a beer style that I would usually overlook, I'm glad that I tried this one. The cherries are flavourful and a bit candied, which is the only way that I like cherries, and there isn't very much of a sour flavour, which is also a plus. I highly recommend it and would try it again.

Get yours directly from the brewery or contact them to see who has it on tap.

Cheers!

Tuesday, July 24, 2018

Then And Now: ByWard Market Dominion

The store closed in 1983.

I knew that I had seen it, in my teens, but it would have been in the final years. The very first Dominion grocery store that I had known was in the K-mart Plaza, on Merivale Road, in Nepean. My house was one of the many garden homes behind the store, separated by a field, a grove of trees and bushes (known as Hippie Hideout), and a creek.

As a young kid, my dad would write a note for me to take to the store, with a couple of bucks, to get a pack of smokes. I was allowed to keep the change. For 10 cents, I could buy myself a bag of Hostess Potato Chips. I usually went for barbecue, though I distinctly remember that for a brief time, I was hooked on grape-flavoured chips.

When our Dominion store eventually closed its doors, I thought I would never see the stylized D again. But in my mid teens, I saw it again, in the ByWard Market.


National Archives photo, circa 1970.
Today, that space is occupied by the Blue Cactus restaurant. Though the letters are gone, the overhang still protects pedestrians from the rain.

I can't remember if there had been another restaurant or bar in that location between Dominion and the Blue Cactus, but the Blue Cactus has been there for decades. It's a hopping strip, with Lux restaurant, Zak's Diner and Cantina, and below, a set of escape rooms.


What's your earliest memory of this part of Byward Market Square, between York Street and Clarence? Did you shop in this Dominion?

Leave a comment.

Monday, July 23, 2018

Best Burgers

I know. This project is really late.

Back in January, I had a craving for a burger that went unfulfilled. And so, I swore that I would search for what I thought was the perfect hamburger in Ottawa, figuring that I would take a couple of months and report my findings at the end of March.

I quickly realized, as I ate beef patty after beef patty, that I just couldn't eat enough burgers in a two-month period to make this taste test worthwhile. For me, eating more than two burgers a week is a bit of a stretch (even more than one burger in seven days was a chore). Because of my current mobility issues that make bicycles or treatmills turn into torture devices, eating that much fat was not helping my waistline.

(I swear, as soon as I recover from my surgery, I'm shedding all the pounds I've packed on.)

When I began this search, my criteria was pretty simple: visit as many pubs and restaurants as I could and order a hamburger. The burgers all had to contain bacon and cheese, and usually had the same toppings of lettuce, tomatoes, and onions. The sauces could vary from barbecue sauce, hot mustard, or the house specialty.

But as March was coming to a close, I realized that my scope was far too vast. There are far too many pubs and restaurants in Ottawa, most of which flip burgers. In order for me to take a fair enough sample, I would be eating burgers into Christmas.

I narrowed the scope to look at locations that specialized in burgers. Where the patty was what defined the spot. And with that criterion, I said goodbye to some places that made some mighty fine hamburgers.

The top three pubs that I visited, if you're interested, where the burger absolutely shone, were as follows:
So, I've spent nearly six months, eating burgers, but eventually focusing on those establishments where burgers are there bread and butter. And from them all, I've narrowed down the top five burger joints that are a must for any person who wants more from their patty than any Macdonald's or Wendy's can crank out.

In order of best to best-est, here is my list:

5—Vera's Burger Shack

 


If it weren't for the fact that I have been to this Bell's Corners joint many times over the years, if I had based my judgement on my past two visits, while I was conducting this search, Vera's would not have made my list. In previous visits, I would have put this burger shop at the top of the list for it's fresh-made patties and its char-broiled grilling, along with the fresh ingredients, the toasted buns, and Vera's homemade sauce.

But when I visited The Buchery (where Vera's is a part) at the beginning of my competition, I found that my patty was overcooked and dry, with bits of the ground beef even burned. My bacon was also singed, making the whole burger a big letdown. It was still a decent burger, overall, but would not have made my top five.

I returned to Vera's a few weeks later, convinced that the person who had been flipping the burger was simply having a bad day. On my return, I ordered the exact same ingredients.

This patty was better than the previous one, but it still was a bit on the dry side, not the moist, juicy burger that first made me fall in love. Again, the bacon was a bit singed.

Overall, this recent burger was at least as good as I could make at home (I make a pretty mean burger), and taking all the prior experiences I've had in the past, Vera's made my list, but just barely. Hintonburger was knocking at its door.

DW had a turkey burger and said it was the best non-beef burger she's ever had. I had a bite and agree.

4—Burgers & Shakes

 


I learned of these folks back in the years where my kids were playing soccer (that's quite a few years ago). Every once and a while, their teams would play out at the pitches where Mitch Owens and Limebank roads met, well-beyond Manotick. The one saving grace is that there was a tiny hut that served milkshakes, which we would get for our girls as a reward for a game well-played.

On one visit, where I hadn't eaten dinner, I decided to try one of the shack's hamburgers, and I was blown away. Lots of flavour and the patty dripped with juices.

Years later, Burgers & Shakes opened its second location in Barrhaven. While it's in our end of town, it's on the opposite side of our community. But it's well worth the drive.

Nothing has changed in the new spot and after many years of absence. However, in this location, the servers will assemble the ingredients as you pick the toppings. I find the lettuce (iceberg) is pretty lame, and they chop it into chunks, which inevitably roll off the patty as the burger is assembled. It can be a painful experience to watch. (Psst... guys... go for leafy lettuce and shred that shit!)

There's no glitz or glamour to the shop, so my family and I always take the burger to go. And this burger is a family favourite.

3—Bite Burger House

 


This is probably the most upscale burger joint in the city. From the outside, the restaurant looks like an expensive bistro in the ByWard Market. You climb a half-flight of stairs to get into the entrance, which looks like a swanky bar, with lots of natural wood and hanging lights, and shelves fully stocked with wine, moving to the table area, the lights are low and the decor is perfect for a first date.

At the back of the restaurant, you can eat in an enclosed, private patio that offers some shade from the summer sun.

But it's the food that brings you back into the world of burgers.

The first burger on the menu is called Bite Me and is my perfect choice—a bacon cheeseburger. The bun is fresh and shiny, and the toppings include lettuce, tomato, and pickle (the latter, I meant to omit from my order).

The burger was perfectly cooked, served piping-hot, and was dripping with juices. It's one of those burgers that, once you pick it up, it's hard to put down. I think I only set it down twice, pausing only to savour the accompanying French fries, which were perfectly cooked—super-crispy on the outside and tender on the inside, and well-seasoned.

You would think that with such a highbrow decor, the burger would be priced accordingly, but at $15 for the Bite Me, including the fries, this burger is matched with all the burgers in my list.

So bring your date here and treat him or her to a great meal, without breaking the bank.

2—World Burger

 


If you're the type of burger meister who likes to take your sandwich experience to the max, this is your burger joint.

With extravagant creations such as the Sydney Burger, with a massive onion ring and a sunny-side-up egg, to the Montreal Burger, with Montreal-style smoked meat, to the Tokyo Burger, with Teriyaki mayo and an Asian-style salad. The choices of superburgers is out of this world.

I chose the Ottawa Burger, minus mushrooms (I don't eat fungus). I was thrilled with the spongy bun, which was lightly dusted with flour, as it seemed to make the burger lighter. Though the lettuce was a bit lacking, and pale, and the overall presentation was messy, it's the taste that matters, and the taste was everything.

On my first visit to this Parkwood Hills shop, my youngest daughter and I were so impressed that we had to return the next week, with the whole family. We all agreed that the beef was fresh and tasty, and there was enough variety to keep you coming back and enjoying a new part of the world each time.

A sign outside boasts that this burger joint has been voted the best in the city, and I think that that's almost true. And, in fact, it held the top spot on my list until I visited one place that left it miles behind, eating dust.

Which brings me to my number one choice...

1—The King Eddy

 


The first time I visited this restaurant, in the ByWard Market, I went looking for a pogo stick, and one of my Twitter friends told me that these were the best in the city. And they are. But when you're looking for something more, their burgers far overshadow those batter-wrapped hot dogs

This is a true build-your-own-burger joint, but the added bonus is that the basic burger starts with two patties and cheese. I added bacon, lettuce, tomatoes, onions, and the King Eddy sauce, which is like a garlic aioli with a kick.

Ground fresh daily, the beef is flavourful and juicy. Even though you have two patties, they are of modest size, but filling. Cheese is between the patties, with another on top, for good measure. And the King Eddy sauce just works so well (I even got some extra as a dipping sauce for my sweet-potato fries).

After my first bite, I almost said aloud, "Holy Sh...!" but caught myself. This is the burger to seek out!

By far, The King Eddy is the king of Ottawa burger joints. Excellent hamburger, great local craft beer, crispy sweet-potato fries, fabulous service (actually, I had great service at most of the places I've visited over the months).

This has been one of my most difficult comparison reviews, and by far the most fattening. I'm now going to spend the rest of the year trying to shed the pounds I've gained.

But at least, when the craving of a burger hits, I know that there are places across town that will satisfy my needs.


Thursday, July 12, 2018

DMB

It was about time.

For the first time in more than a dozen years, Dave Matthews Band came to Ottawa, where they rocked the Bluesfest for two and a half hours.

I guess it was worth the wait.

The dynamics of the band, with their raw talent, was phenomenal. In the early hours since I've returned from the show, I'm speechless. So maybe I'll just post some of the photos that I captured.


My many thanks to J.A. (you know who you are), who got me into the show with my D-SLR. I am forever grateful.

Dave said that he'd like to come back next year, if the festival organizers will permit him.

Get on it, Bluesfest folks.