The Bouncing Red Ball

Today, like any day, started off by pitting me against that most difficult of life decisions: to stay in bed, write off all exertion and just be lazy? Or get up and make the effort to have this be a day worth being out of the house? It's always a deliberation that takes a few cups of caffeinated convincing before swaying to the side of productivity, but is certainly helped along when the plans on the table actually seem worth while and fun. Soccer baseball anyone?

It was an invitation passed forward to me by my brother and sister-in-law to join them and a group of friends at the park for a picnic and a game involving those red bouncy balls from our youth. You know the ones that make the hollow rubber sound? The ones that, if not handled carefully, can leave a nasty "burn" against bare flesh? The ones in elementary school that symbolized the start of recess and the end of academic learning? Of course you know the ones I mean; I bet if you closed your eyes right now, that bouncing echo sound would come rushing back through your memory. Well, it's quite possibly been since my elementary years that I've played with such a toy, and so I accepted their invite and prepared to use some of those long-dormant muscle groups.

A moment ago I mentioned the end of academic processes and the start of recess or outdoor gym class, the glee of almost any student in a grade five classroom; but what I realize, after aging some years, is just what my teacher's intentions were with the activity on the ball diamond and how developmentally it did wonders for our abilities in social situations. Not only did it help to bind the relationships in the classroom but it also taught us the values of a team, of communication and of working together. (bear with me, I'm going somewhere with this). Well, despite the decades that have passed since my playground romping, those lessons still apply. And so, in a field full of strangers, I found myself once again poised in a position of cheering on teammates and working together to overcome our opponents. This ability to not only coexist amongst people we've only just met, but also amicably work towards a common goal excites me, and has reminded me that no matter where you may find yourself, there is a relationship waiting to be built.

Call it what you will: networking, schmoozing, or simply getting to know your neighbour, I find the importance of this ability overwhelmingly important and significant. Through conversation we learn, through learning we grow and through growing we can better build future relationships, a cyclical event that doesn't need to end at graduation. Amazing how a little red ball can trigger the memories and values that my teachers insisted I would one day understand.

So maybe it wasn't an adventure in culinary, nature or musical experiences, but I think that the underlying idea still applies; that trying something new, getting out of bed and pushing yourself into a situation a little bit different, maybe a little intimidating and outside of your comfort zone, can actually introduce you to something and someone great. The people you can meet and stories to hear are endless; who knows what new restaurant, band or adventure hot spot you may learn about; what friends you might make or relationships you might spark? I find a certain happiness in the fact that, just by getting out of the apartment today, there are not as many strangers left in this world.

-Phil

The Cornerstone

It is undoubtedly the opinion of many that Mark and Jeff, whose names have popped up before on Ouderkirk and Taylor, have quite literally cornered the market on local vegetarian and vegan dining. At no more than ten feet away from the aforementioned O & T, The Cornerstone restaurant nestles itself quaintly on the intersection of Wyndham and Carden Streets in downtown Guelph, begging for me to come in.

On a day such as this, there was no reason to question why their street side patio was packed. However upsetting that may have initially been, it did force us inside to explore the motif and true essence of the restaurant. Now, I'm not sure how to properly explain this, but the atmosphere is precisely what I expected it to be, despite my lack of expectations; you can stand outside and look at the store front and just know what lies inside.

Above anything else, it screams a comfort experience. It is rustic grey brick walls, dark stained beams and eclectic wooden tables (I say eclectic because, including the silverware, no two items seem to be the same). It is a reading/lounge area and a dining experience, and I say experience because of the open concept kitchen, and on such a note I feel it important to emphasize the space, or lack thereof, in which the staff must work, because for them to kick out the food we were about to enjoy in such a confined and limited workspace only adds to my overall impressions of the restaurant.

I started my meal with a cappuccino; the professional barista set up they had behind the counter was too tempting to pass up, and while that was being prepared we perused our menus to see what popped out. Let me just say that when a local menu states any item as being legendary, I believe in its claim and will therefor order it. Why? Because when a chain restaurant says "famous" or "legendary" on the menu it only means that it has been listed in all of its locations, which shouldn't fool you into thinking it's actually any good; whereas a local contender must actually achieve fame by far more impressive, challenging and perhaps more rightful means. But I digress, this star of the menu I speak so fondly of is the antojitos; cream cheese, onions and a motley blend of seasonings all wrapped in a tortilla and delicately sliced along side sour cream and fresh made guacamole and salsa. That, ladies and gentlemen, is how you start a meal.

Further down the menu we were both torn over so many options. To go with the pad Thai, the African peanut stew or the tofu club? A seemingly impossible decision and so, drawn to the specials board, we opted for the fresh pizza with olive oil, tomato, zucchini, onion, oregano, feta and chevre mozzarella. The word mouthwatering comes to mind. The blend of ingredients atop this 'za were not only piled high but all so incredibly fresh and crisp. It was almost unfortunate that we couldn't finish the whole thing, the key to that statement being that I now have succulent leftovers waiting at home.

Completely full, we had to forgo the desert menu, however tempting it may have been, and settle the bill, and a fair one it was at that (I'd say you could dine safely on about $12 a head, sans alcohol). So, for the moment of truth, would I recommend trying this place out? Well, if it isn't blatantly obvious at this point: without a doubt, get up and go. Not only was the food delicious and fresh and filling and affordable, but the staff were helpful, willing to answer any questions I had in detail and brought us a sense of comfort during our stay (which, by the way, ended with us scoring a couple patio seats once the section cleared a little. Definitely a great way to enjoy your stay during the summer months).

When I think of the restaurant and what it has to offer, there is only one reason I can think of that some readers may be apprehensive about delving in and that is, as I mentioned earlier, The Cornerstone is a strict vegetarian and vegan restaurant. Try as you might, there is no meat to be found on this menu and I'm telling you as a devote "meatatarian" myself, it is not missed in the slightest. I think that a lot of us who eat meat as our main with each meal are put off by the idea of vegetarian food because that focal part of the dish is missing, but I assure you that such is not the case. In fact, when you think about a meal, any meal, and deconstruct what it truly is, it almost always comes down to the veg. They are the aromatics and vibrant colours and the flavours that honestly do more to spark our senses than most meat, poultry or fish have the abilities to do. Of course, I still love my New York strip, roasted chicken with rosemary and lemon and a good ol' fashioned beer battered fish n' chips, but the point is, I can also sacrifice the idea of meat for the flavour of a fully rounded and delicious vegetarian meal.

And so once more my hat is tipped in the direction of Mark and Jeff. After seven years of business they are maintaining a regular clientele, drawing in new crowds and serving up the finest of fresh and local foods. I am eager to return, be it for a coffee, a beer or to try out their tofu cheesecake, I will be back; and I should also mention that they have been known to host musicians and artists from time to time so you can rest assured there will be more highlights to come out of The Cornerstone.

Off to eat my leftovers
-Phil

The Cornerstone Restaurant
1 Wyndham St North
Guelph, Ontario

Mon - Thurs 8am - Midnight
Fri - 8am - 2 am
Sat 9am - 2am
Sun 9am - Midnight

Christina Martin and Steven Bowers

The most difficult thing an artist has to do is not only display themselves and all they are to the public, but they must do it unapologetically. This action does not veer from or discriminate against any form of art, be it music, written composition, acting or in a painter's studio. The only difference that can really occur is when it comes to the platform on which the art is going to be displayed. A band taking the stage on a large stadium tour, versus a solo artist playing acoustically in a small and quaint cafe, for example, is the difference of being seen through a window, or through a microscope. While bravery must exist for both of those examples, I firmly believe that it takes a much tougher skin and a great deal of respect to do the latter.

When I walked into the back room of the Red Brick, Steven Bowers had already begun his set. Armed with nothing more than an acoustic guitar and a microphone plugged into a fender sitting behind him on the floor, he finished off his first song and started into the second part of his performance. To tell the truth, I've never been one for needing to know "why" a song has been written, taking the mindset that, as the listener, I can place my own meaning and story to the melodies and lyrics of a song. So when he began explaining what he was about to play for us, I have to admit that I was a bit worried the story would perhaps take something away from my imagination. Quite to the contrary, as he wrapped up the tale of how his grandparent's lives and the actions of family have inspired the lyrics and he began to strum the gentle melody, I realized that his story only made me connect more to not only the song, but also to who he is as a musician.

Mixing light comedy with heart-felt emotion, he quite literally wowed me with every song, creating a true connection with his listeners and capturing the essence of the room. At any point in any song, it was entirely feasible for me to close my eyes and truly envision what he was singing about, whether it be making home made wine, or waltzing in the kitchen at 4:00 in the morning. To pair his lyrical and story telling abilities with technical prowess on the guitar was a perfect match to his personality and a welcome side of music and artistry for this listener.

After his set and a short break, we were once again drawn to the corner of the room where Christina Martin had pulled her guitar from its case and stood comfortably in front of the microphone. She started her set much in the same way, recalling a story of her time in Germany when she was 20 years old, learning to play the guitar, when inspiration struck her on a bus. The story once again painted that perfect picture to match the chords as she strummed along and sang in a voice that I wouldn't hesitate grouping with the talents of Margo Timmins or Lucinda Williams. It's really no wonder she's won so many awards and critical attention.

As she sang, I could quite easily picture the European backdrop passing through the windows of a bus as it approached the night club scene. I could almost smell and taste the air in Germany as she made her way across the land; and I could without a doubt understand how her experience there played out as an inspiration to song. Most importantly, perhaps, it made me realize how perfectly in tune this young artist is with her craft, her instrument and her voice.

Song after song, tale after tale, she brought us into her life and personalized herself with every individual in the room. I was not surprised that this girl from Halifax knew much of her audience by a first name basis. I can understand how seeing her play once only leads to seeing her play twice, and singing along and chatting personally with her by your third viewing.

While both Steven and Christina are incredibly talented individuals and dedicated musicians, I don't know that anything to please me more than when they joined together over a duet. In fact I think the highlight of the evening for me was when Steven came back to the floor at the end of the night and sang while Christina harmonized from the audience; like a conversation being held entirely in song, the room fell completely silent to their story carrying back and forth.

By the end of the show I was hooked. Both together and alone, I was prepared to make their albums a regular in my rotation of folk inspired listening. As I have mentioned before, when an artist draws inspiration from such a respectable list of musicians and bands, I can't help but pull myself into their craft; and though I can see where their influences have affected them, there is no question as to the individuality and character they put into their songs. From under that delicate microscope I speak of, the hearts and minds of these two artists is seen crystal clear and has left me wanting more.

Keep listening Canada, there's something to be heard.

Phil

http://www.christinamartin.net/ &
http://www.myspace.com/cpmartin

http://www.stevenbowers.com/ &
http://www.myspace.com/stevenbowers

Recommended listening:

Christina :

The Bike Song

Two Hearts

Cut it Out

Steven:

Comfortable Sweet

Your Pretty Fault

Bees in Jars

The life of a dedicated musician is a busy one, filled with concerts, driving, writing and occasionally sleep. The case is no different as Steven and Christina continue their tour across Canada, playing house concerts, night clubs and cafes. As a new fan and an engaged listener, I can't help but hope that as they drive back across our great country they might drop in again, bringing more stories, some new, some familiar, but always entertaining.

Sat Aug 22 London, ON CD Plus- Zeus 2pm13.

Sat Aug 22 London, ON London Music Club 9pm14.

Sun Aug 23 Sudbury, ON Little Montreal 6pm15.

Thur Aug 27 Winnipeg, Manitoba CD Plus In-Store 1pm16.

Thur Aug 27 Winnipeg, Manitoba House Concert 7pm17.

Fri Aug 28 Onanole, Manitoba House Concert 7:30 pm18.

Sun Aug 30 Saskatoon, SK Lydia's TBA19.Wed

Sept 2 Lethbridge, AB The Slice 9pm20.Thurs

Sept 3 Edmonton, AB The Haven Social Club 8pm21.

Fri Sept 4 Calgary, AB Ironwood TBA22.

Sat Sept 5 Canmore, AB Communitea Cafe 8pm23.

Sun Sept 6 Kelowna, BC The Grateful Fred 4-8pm24.

Tue Sept 8 Vancouver, BC The Roundhouse (BBN) 7pm25.

Sat Sept 12 Ft. McMurray, AB Alexander's Lounge 9pm

The Arboretum

Amidst the concrete jungles of our day to day; between the Home Depots and the Walmarts; just past the Starbucks and the residential compounds that we so proudly and quickly built up, lies a place where the land still remains untouched. A place where you can still wander and find yourself lost. Follow the proper path and you can navigate yourself to a special spot where the sound of silence, which is to say the total absence of any unnatural occurrence of sound, and you can once again realize that the structures and pillars of our neighbourhoods have taken something away from us, despite our "need" to have them there. Boasting itself as Guelph's best kept secret, The Arboretum, in all its 331 acres and 39-year history, is one place that so easily comes as an example.

By no means am I a man who knows trees, shrubs, greenery or any other type of flora on this Earth. Though I've tried to care for many plants in my past, they always seem to fall victim to my inability to understand what it is they need; I've even managed to kill a cactus, an aloe plant and multiple shoots of bamboo. With all that being said, however, there is no part of me that doesn't appreciate the beauty in the life of a forest. I find the history of a tree to be incredibly captivating in its ability to sustain life and grow in such unique and intricate ways. So when I set out on the first path of today's adventure, I was confident in my experiences to return positive and lasting emotions.

Without knowing which of the many trails to start out on, I inquired with the kind lady behind the information desk just inside the main building. In addition to being approachable and friendly, she was also generous enough to donate thirty minutes of her time in giving me a synopsis and brief history of the area, as well as point me in a direction that she thought to be most rewarding. Heeding her words and not being one to question the likes of experience and knowledge, I began walking towards the Nature Gardens and hiking trail.

I wont dwell on every fine detail of this experience, it is certainly an adventure that one has to take on their own, but I will say that through swamp, field, forest and garden, I could not take in enough of what so much time and patience had awarded me, nor anyone else who has marched along the paths of The Arboretum. There is a certain romance in knowing that life cannot be sped up, that what stands, thrives and lives here now has taken up until this moment to do so.

With all of the natural beauty distracting me, I thought on more than one occasion how disoriented the maze-like paths had made me, with more forks in the road and more "which way" decisions to make than one visit could possibly fit in, I can certainly see myself returning soon, only to a different point of departure. It should also not go without mention that with a place relying on the tides of new each season and each year's completely unique and complex weather patterns, I can see how no two visits would ever be the same.

Now, with that in mind, there are a couple of things that I would do to more wisely prepare myself before heading back out, and, likewise, a few suggestions I would make to you as you make your trek into the woods.

First: bring some form of mosquito repellent. The little buggers are big, plentiful and nasty, I itch and scratch now between almost every key stroke.

Second: pack a lunch. There are more picnic areas, resting places, open fields and benches than I can realistically count, so it seems the perfect place to bring the Ouderkirk and Taylor alfresco basket I was talking about not too long ago.

And finally: pack along some binoculars. Now, there are two reasons for this suggestion. As you may have guessed it, there are an abundance of wildlife denizens throughout the area. Everything from butterflies, birds, rabbits, groundhogs, deer, fox and who only knows what else live in the forested areas, and I think that being able to see them from afar as they graze, without startling their state of being would be a great side of things to observe. Further to that, and on a note that may only apply to the foolish actions of yours truly, I'd recommend the spectacles for another reason entirely.

See, I believe strongly in heading off the beaten track. By sticking to the road well travelled, it seems to me that you will more than likely only see what is expected to be seen, but when you veer off on your own, there is a whole world of reward and opportunity awaiting. Unfortunately, with that there is also a world which may not be so welcoming. So, when I see something in the middle of the woods that looks odd and out of place, I think to myself "Hmmmm, I wonder what that could be?" and when I approach nearer the object of my keen interest and realize that it's only a sign constructed at the hands of man, I might then say "Oh, it's just a sign, no importance, I should just turn around and get back on the trail" or, I could say "Hmmmm, I wonder what it says?" And when I reach the sign, which faces the other direction, and I work may way around the shrubbery that has overgrown the sign which now clearly has no purpose than to intrigue your narrator, only to see the faded lettering of 'Poison Ivy Ahead' I may say to myself "What the !*&# do you mean ahead? Ahead is the way I just came from!"

So you see, had I been playing closer attention, or had my binoculars handy, then maybe I would not have been standing and trekking through a field of the horrible plant that I've been taught since such a young age to avoid. I don't know just yet if the oils have affected me, it may not show for a couple days still, a period of time in which I will live in constant question, but I beg of you not to let my my experience and naivety scare you away. I would still do it again, refusing to believe that the path always followed is the only way to get where your going, it just may be the path less itchy.

So, having explored much of the area and learning quite a bit as I did, I returned to the desk of the kind lady who started me out on my adventure and I thanked her for my experience. Before leaving she loaded me up with information, pamphlets, brochures, maps and the promise of my return. This place, as she advised and I have witnessed, is a great place to simply stroll for an afternoon, get lost for an hour or to set up a picture perfect wedding ceremony. It is open year-round, so enjoy what the rest of the Summer has to offer, explore the multitude of colour it gives in the Fall, cross country ski on its trails in the Winter and take advantage of the fresh new beginnings of the Spring by stepping foot inside The Arboretum in Guelph. In addition, you can also sign up for one of their many guided tours, join a weekly class, play on their disc golf course or just meander slowly down a newly discovered trail. No matter what you do, every time you do it, it will be a whole new experience.

The Arboretum in Guelph

Access off both College Avenue and Victoria Road

Free admission year-round

http://www.uoguelph.ca/arboretum/index.htm

PS In conclusion to my post-script on the previous blog, I have done some investigating as to why there were so many uniformed officers outside my building the other night. I know that many of you were expecting some ultra-dramatic climax, admittedly so was I, and perhaps my baited choice of words had implied such a thing; but, and I'm happy to say, there isn't one to deliver. In many stories and movies we hope for something shocking and extreme to take us into the epilogue, but when it comes to real life situations, those are exactly the scenarios we should like, wish and hope to avoid. And so when I found out that they were responding to an escalated domestic situation, to which they arrived in time to prevent any dire or brutal Hollywood ending, I was happy, relieved and comfortable again in my home.

The Boathouse, The Bridge, The Kayak and The Crane

It would seem that on most days off, Mother Nature likes to tag team with the infamous Murphy and play the cruel and lawless joke of bringing upon us their bad weather forecasts. Air that seems so cruel and uncomfortable that you'd swear it has teeth; rain and shadow and the kind of miserable overcast gloom and doom that makes you want to stay inside all day, or even make you almost wish you were back behind your desk. But not today. Today was that one day I wait for every year. The kind of day where the sky blue sky has an almost celestial shine to it and the breeze brings the hot temperatures down just enough that you can feel so perfectly comfortable in your own skin. It is seen on the faces of every pedestrian as they smile and converse with total strangers. It can be heard through the chords of the guitar played by a man down the street who is not playing for money, he's playing because it feels like a good day to play. Yes, for me this was that day, and this is how it went.

First off, I'm sure you can all agree that any day which starts without an alarm clock is, for the most part, going to be a good one. That ability to let your own body wake up refreshed and ready to go seems so rare and an opportunity to be revered. I don't know that I spent more than twenty minutes in the apartment before locking the door behind me and seeking out breakfast.

A large French Vanilla and a tomato and spinach breakfast sandwich later* and I'm immersed in a book on the front patio of Red Brick, allowing the Sun to blanket me as I read. And when I speak of people and their moods on a day like this, no example seems so perfect to me than that of the elderly couple, well into their 70's-80's, sitting at the table next to me, reading their paper and sipping their cappuccinos, reminding anyone who passes by that a bond can still be forever.

*This was perhaps the best breakfast sandwich I've ever had. It was nothing fancy, but they obviously prepared it on a properly seasoned panini press that made all the difference in the world

After breakfast, I continued in search of nothing. No path, no direction, no plan and no worry; just walking and letting my random thoughts and the weather lead me where they willed. As such, I shortly thereafter found myself at the front stoop of The Boathouse, one of Guelph's most treasured and must visit hot spots, especially on warm summer days. The bulk of their business is ice cream, and I mean good, keep you coming back for more, ice cream. So I grabbed a cone and headed towards the bridge you see in the picture. I don't know what it is about bridges but they seem to contain this quality that captivates me; I find them romantic and timeless and this one was no exception (cheesy, I know, but I tells it like it is).

Just over the bridge, I strayed down a path through the woods that follows the banks of Speed River and watched as people casually paddled their way along in their rented canoes and kayaks. That vision was enough for me, being in one of my ever so common "why not?" attitudes, to head over to the boat rental and grab myself a kayak.

"I've never been in a kayak" I told the young man. "What are the odds I'm going to tip over and find myself eating a river water sandwich while I'm out there?"

"Nobody ever tips over" he assures me "These things are built to avoid that"

Comfortable with his assurance and excited to head out, I waited. Waited for another patron to return their rented vessel so that I may venture out onto the water and experience a different perspective of the river bank.

Ten minutes later I watched as two young guys paddled their way to the dock, drenched to the bone, cursing and laughing all at the same time.

"We both tipped over" stated the one guy, and as he did, the guy handling the rentals looked up at me and said "It's not supposed to happen like this"

Now, I know how to swim, and I'm not afraid of water, at least not when it's clean and when I know what's in it (providing we aren't talking whales here); but I think a part of me is still somewhat leery of "river water" since my China travels (click here if you want to learn more http://pbean.blogspot.com/2006/05/real-yellow-river.html) and so the last thing I wanted to be doing was taking a dive into some disease, or possibly fecal infested waters. However, still wanting to enjoy the day's sunshine and some adventure, as minor as it may have been, I climbed in and paddled my way along.

Perhaps some of you have already taken in the pleasure of relaxing as you row with the current of Speed River, but for those that haven't, I can say with absolute honesty that it was one of the most relaxing experiences of my life. Scenically it was unreal, with markers along the way that reference a map they hand you with the rental unit; along this route there are quite a few tidbits of history to take in. Moreover, I passed a number of other fellow rowers and with each of them a conversation was exchanged, as if it were an understanding that being on the water meant you were automatically pleasant and in the mood to share a part of your day with someone else.

I made it as far as marker #13 (if you want to know what that means then you'll just have to get out there and explore) before pausing for a while and watching as a crane emerged from the foliage along the shore to catch his lunch. Its movements were hypnotic as it tweaked its head and ruffled its feathers now and again; I couldn't look away. I wanted nothing more than to take a picture of this peaceful bird, but when I heard the unfortunate demise of the two young men back at The Boathouse launch pad, I opted to keep my camera in the car.

Satisfied with my time entranced with the winged creature, I began to paddle back from whence I came, and while doing so, and after about two hours of exertion, I started to realize that I don't use these muscles very often. In fact, I don't know that I've ever used them at all. My body began to grow angry with me, my legs fell asleep simultaneously and I knew at that point I had only just found something I know I will need to do again. Something of a challenge in need of conquering. And while that challenge remains for another day, for right then and there it required the comfort of a bench, an ice cold bottle of water, and perhaps an afternoon nap, which I did almost involuntarily.

So how do you end a day that can only to this point be described as spontaneous, memorable and relaxed? I suppose there are plenty of ways it could go: a fireworks display in the park seems to come to mind, or perhaps dinner at a new restaurant where the menu fits the season to the point of perfection. Perhaps, and only by odd definition, it almost doesn't matter what the night brings, so long as it doesn't happen too soon. For me, it was capped off with pub fare at The Woolwich Arms, a local establishment that boasts the pride of local draught, beer tasting menu included, and bison burgers topped with orange chutney and a creamy Gruyere. Match these culinary selections with the company of a good friend and you've got yourself a day that made the year long wait worth while.

Inevitably, and unfortunately, however, the end comes to all things, and so as I pulled into my apartment complex at the end of the evening to the sight of twelve police officers stationed outside the entrance to my building, I felt a sense of truly achieving everything that a day like this could offer. Reflecting upon it, I suppose in terms of making life changes and discovering a new course of things to come, or finding a solutions to life's most intricate secrets, it may not have been a period for the history books; but ask me if it was a day worth detailing and writing about and I will answer simply "Yes."

Wishing you all a day of experiences

-Phil

PS You may be asking yourself why a dozen of Guelph's finest law enforcement officers were chatting so casually and covertly outside my building. Well, to that I can only answer by stating you will have to check back to find out.

Ouderkirk and Taylor

When restaurateurs Mark Rodford and Jeff Sample opened the doors to Ouderkirk and Taylor on December 13, 2007, it seems they had two things in mind: keep it fresh and keep it local. Now, almost two years later, that vision has not been compromised, and their popularity throughout the community proves that. As a lover of food, their practices, beliefs and product selection were a great discovery for me when I entered through their doors in search of fine foods, and it is my hope that your experience with this artisan foods shop will prove just as rewarding and long lasting.

As with most things in my life, I happened across O & T only by random circumstance. Overwhelmingly tempted and obsessed by thoughts of a posh tapas platter to keep me company during one of those beautiful rain storms a couple weeks back, I finally gave up the fight and sought out to build something delectable. But when my fridge turned up little more than some orange cheddar and a jar of pimento stuffed olives (both of which I normally have no qualms of binging on) my craving wasn't quite fulfilled and so I ventured once again to the downtown core where a sandwich board promoting fresh baked breads and Canadian cheeses drew me in.

The moment I stepped foot into the store I was taken away by the aroma of those fresh baked goods, the vision of an endless row of olive oils, vinegars and condiments and, down at the far end of the shop, a beautiful glass display case, loaded with artisan cheeses from around Canada.

Like a kid in a candy store I was pressed up to the glass, drooling with the giddy satisfaction of not knowing which one of those wonderfully hand-crafted wheels of cheese would be coming home with me. And just like a child, I anxiously awaited my turn in line, only when it came I could barely muster more than an embarrassing "tee-he-he."

Still on the fence with what lay in front of me, I was given samples of a few varieties of Canada's finest, before finally settling on Quebec's Le Baluchon, a wonderfully aromatic, fruity and somewhat salty, aged for 60-days cheese that fit my palate just so. Needless to say, my tapas plate rounded out well with this crowning little treasure, delicately sliced with my pear, apple and prosciutto combination, and my craving was met with a true sense of elation.

Since that day I have been back to Ouderkirk and Taylor numerous times, trying something new with each visit. The staff have made it simple and easy for me to understand and enjoy whatever I buy, offering their knowledge and pairing suggestions no matter what I'm in the mood for, and, sometimes, helping to set the mood for me. I've overindulged on their daily bread selections, dined sinfully on their aptly named "Best Ever Brownie" and envisioned my pantry's growth, with oils, mustard's, spreads and a pear and vanilla butter that will invariably become a staple in my kitchen. Still, with all that they have to offer, they have managed to keep their ingredients locally sourced whenever possible.

There is no doubt that Mark and Jeff and the rest of the knowledgeable staff at Ouderkirk and Taylor have built a lasting foundation. Whether you're hosting a wine and cheese dinner party, looking to quench a savoury craving, popping in for a fresh deli lunch (sandwiches and entrees available Mon-Fri) or, and probably most enticingly, packing alfresco for an afternoon picnic, they will find what it is that you crave, desire and need. Keeping it local, fresh, new and delicate, Ouderkirk and Taylor has brought the candy store back to my world.

Ouderkirk and Taylor

(named after two great-grandparents in honour and tradition of proud Canadian food)

31 Wyndham Street North

Guelph, Ontario

The inevitable afterthought:

It should be mentioned that these guys are not new to the food and restaurant scene. If you step outside the doors of O & T and walk about two feet down the road you will come to The Cornerstone, a vegetarian restaurant and pub that always seems packed. You can count on me checking it out soon.

The Red Brick Cafe

I promised myself on Saturday that on Sunday I would do nothing. I would sleep in, make no plans or dedications, leave my watch and cell phone aside and just relax. I made it as far as 7:30am before being stirred awake by the noises in the apartment above me. A pounding of sorts, followed by the blaring of music, Michael Jackson's Heal the World to be precise, and while I wanted nothing more than to be angry with my neighbours, I instead woke up, made a pot of coffee and flipped on the Food Network, for which I am a junkie in need of help. But as hard as I tried to relax, it just wasn't enough to drown out the M.J. and so I gathered myself together and headed out for a stroll.

Sunday mornings are great for this. Something seems different about the crowds as they enjoy breakfast on a patio or coffee in the park, and there's a quieter, slower paced attitude in the air. So in the spirit of the day, I casually meandered my way down the street, looking for a coffee to wake me up, which is when I stumbled across The Red Brick Cafe.

Just down the narrow corridor of Douglas Street in downtown Guelph, Red Brick is one of those places that seems as though it could fit very well in a European travel magazine. Its cafe-bistro interior is precisely what I needed, and the chalkboard menus begged me to order something more than just a large double-double.

So, a fresh cappuccino and home-made peaches and cream muffin later, and I find myself in that lap of relaxation I had so promised myself the day before; and as I enjoyed my breakfast, I took in the rest of what Red Brick has to offer.

The works of local artists which adorn the walls, postings for upcoming events, shows and in-town happenings that are scattered over the back wall, and free Wi-Fi connections to patrons, all indicated to me that my next posting will quite likely be from the comfort of one of their cozy lounge chairs in the back.

Fully relaxed, despite my morning's rude awakening, I know that beyond what I experienced today, it's not just fair trade coffees, pastries and fresh breakfast sandwiches that have kept this place busy and popular since it opened three years ago. Their menu also includes lunch and dinner selections, complete with a daily wine tasting that, had it not been 10:30 in the morning, I would be reporting on right now. And with the promise of live, local music in the near future (once current renovation and expansion projects are completed) I will be back at their tables enjoying a beer and exploring more of what their menu has to offer.

In the meantime, however, I would both suggest and recommend Red Brick with a friend, a date, or even going solo. It's a perfect setting for conversation, learning about local artists, or losing yourself in the pages of a great read. So grab a seat by the window and enjoy not just the flavour but also the experience of what a good coffee should be.

Oh, and I should also mention that while their product is great to enjoy in-house, you can also purchase bags of their coffee at supporting businesses throughout the community; and for that, the more I explore it, the more I respect and love this city.

The Red Brick Cafe

8 Douglas Street

and now also

77 Westmount Street

Guelph, Ontario

http://www.redbrickcafe.ca/

-Phil

photo taken from redbrickcafe.ca

The Yeah Yeah Yeahs

New to some and familiar to millions, Nicolas Zinner (guitars), Brian Chase (drums/percussion) and Karen O. (vocals), the Yeah Yeah Yeahs shine on the scene as one of New York's finest and fastest growing bands.

For what initially started as a folky garage band, they have managed to evolve into one of the most refreshingly original and powerful eclectic rock groups on today's music scene. And when it comes to seeing them live, fortunate only scrapes the very surface of emotion for taking them in at Toronto's Kool Haus last night.

After first catching the odd glimpse of a You Tube concert clip, one of their many artsy music videos and their Tell Me What Rockers To Swallow concert DVD, I was more than a little pumped up for the gig. Unfortunately, and as humans tend to do, I was dwelling on a rather poor performance on SNL this year, becoming nervous to see them in the flesh. Like most bands who entertain us between sketches on the late night comedy show, they hardly seemed into their performance, failing to hit notes and appearing as though they were only contractually obligated to be there. However, I put my judgements aside as best I could and maintained a positive outlook as we headed towards the front doors of the venue. The moment the lights dimmed and the giant eyeball prop lit up I was in a whole new frame of mind.

It's hard not to see a band with only a single guitarist and drummer and no bass or other backup instruments without thinking "great, another band trying to get off on the gimmick of limitations" but I assure you these guys are bringing anything and everything to the table that you would expect from a full roster of musicians. It's like their connection is so perfectly in line that to add another instrument would only cloud their sound; I find the kind of circumstances it would take for such a perfect trifecta to meet to be absolutely amazing, beyond curious, and incredibly fortuitous for us listeners.

Delving further beyond the music and to the thing that makes a band glimmer in the flesh, there is no one bringing presence to the stage quite like Karen O. Besides her infectious smile and physically energetic dominance of the stage, her outfits and matching persona are, well, bizarre. Not in a Lady Ga Ga "Hey, look at me, I'm weird for fame" kind of way, not at all. Karen brings to the table her own bit of energy and excitement in the way she presents her art, right down to her notable hair cut, which seems to give a nod to the Pat Benatar school of awesome. Yes, she is definitely the center and focal point of the band, but that should not for a second suggest that Zinner and Chase aren't rounding out the group with their own energies, tight, dynamic and heavy riffs and beautifully orchestrated anarchy.

They make music to make you jump, make you dance, make you turn back the radio dial and say "I love this song" and, upon seeing them live, they can create music to make you stop, listen and raise a lighter to the air. Dropping the electronic background of Maps (from the album Fever To Tell) and replacing it with gentle, slow acoustic musings was a definite and unexpected highlight to the evening.

Happy, fulfilled and revisiting albums from summers past that I'd so regretfully neglected, I am not only recommending, but imploring you to give this band its fair and equal chance. They deserve their praise, have earned their stripes and keeps us wanting another encore.


http://www.yeahyeahyeahs.com/


Recommended listening

Maps (2003)
Y Control (2003)
Gold Lion (2006)
Honeybear (2006)
Cheated Hearts (2006)
Down Boy (2007)
Zero (2009)
Heads Will Roll (2009)

photo taken from yeahyeahyeahs.com

The Town of Bancroft

We've all heard of it; many of us have been there, either for camping or cottaging or visiting friends on the lake; and more than likely you go to school or work with someone who grew up there; seriously, Bancroftians are everywhere! Whatever the ties are, Bancroft, Ontario is a destination for those who wish to experiencing a true community and a part of nature that seems to have been paved over in many of our own home towns.

With a year-round population of 3500, it's not difficult to understand how, no matter where you go, people know each other. As my friends and I sat down on the patio at Thomas Oiver's Restaurant, on what I will call the main intersection of town, we were immediately immersed into the populous, taken into conversations at adjoining tables and by people not afraid to be friendly with each other. Now, had it not been for the fact that one of us at the table actually resides in town, we may not have felt so amicably a part of things, but I like to romanticize the thought that we still would have, and that a place still exists where individuals don't need to fear conversations with strangers.

T.O.'s sun-soaked patio filled up much of our day, with casual conversations passing through the hours, and when it came time to pay the bill (however high it may have been) we left the premises with a true local feeling, one of which continued as we carried on into the Village Playhouse up the street where we took in a British farce with a sold out audience (once again the word community comes to mind). There is no doubt that talent exists and thrives within the locals and we were happily entertained until curtains closed and we were poured some celebratory wine with the cast and crew on their final evening of the show (again, I tip my hat to Derek; you rocked that Freddie Mercury moustache brother!).

Carrying on to my aforementioned friend's apartment and front porch, we let the night slowly take us forward with drinks and countless passers-by. It didn't matter who anyone was or where they were stumbling to or from at one o'clock in the morning, they were invited to our bash without formalities. I can't tell you how many folks I met that night, nor could I tell you their names (I do blame the full day of drinking for this lapse in memory) but I can tell you that we all shared the evening as a group of people wanting to enjoy simple pleasantries amongst each other, because not doing so would somehow seem inhuman.

As much fun as the afternoon and ensuing evening may have been, nothing seems more memorable to me than the end of the night (or extremely early morning) when Derek and I found ourselves standing alone on the porch, submersed into a sea of stars and perfect summer air. I tried with focused intentions to pick out the sound of a car or siren or anything else unnatural and was almost euphoric when the silence never broke. I don't know when the last time it was that I didn't feel interrupted by the sounds of the city and traffic and people shouting.

So when I talk about the town of Bancroft, it isn't easy to just jot down my experiences with the food at Thomas Oliver's or the finer details of a wonderfully executed play, or the seemingly untouched beauty of the surrounding landscape . It's as though the town itself is an entity, a place to experience, not just visit. Though the six-hour drive is not something I'd normally be rushing to repeat, at least not on a long weekend, it did make it a part of the beauty and attraction to the area; as if we were truly and literally escaping from all the those things that stress us so. Besides, when friends are your company, it's no longer about the time spent in the car anyway; it becomes about the adventure outside of it. The sites, the road games, the play lists, the laughs and the cooler full of sandwiches and pepperettes (thanks for packin' those along guys!).

And so if you haven't already, then the suggestion is now there to head out on the road with a few close friends, plenty of film in your camera (figuratively speaking I suppose) and a packed lunch for the moment when you find the perfect spot along the way to enjoy a picnic; and trust me, there are plenty of picturesque areas where you will want to do this. Above all though, enjoy the feeling of being welcomed by others and slowing things down for a while.

Be back soon.

Phil


....and because I can't resist:

Thomas Oliver's
4 Bridge Street W. Bancroft, Ontario
http://www.thomasolivers.ca/

It's more about the act of patio lounging than it is the food here, though I will admit that for pub fare it is better than a lot that I've eaten in my days. Great bruschetta, above decent potato skins, properly and very well seasoned chicken wings, and a more than passable Greek salad. My only two complaints would be that wings do not come sauced and you have to dip them into those unbelievably annoying little plastic ramekins which will never fully coat your wing, grrrr. That, and they only serve by the glass, so no pitchers here folks.