That’s a hashtag, right guys?

Earlier today I was at Breathe fitness working with Edmonton’s premier personal trainer Len Panchuk when, after a gruelling workout, I stepped outside for a breath of fresh air.  Too bad that that’s not what I found.  Instead, the unexpected blanket of smoke nearly made me barf on the Fringe goers feeling their way through the haze for mini-donuts and green onion cakes.  It was pretty gross.

Things have gotten worse throughout the day and I barely made it across the street from my pad before my eyes and lungs begged me to go back indoors.  I had planned to take a dramatic picture of downtown’s skyline from Oliver–a moody blend of silhouetted buildings amidst the warm glow of a markedly obscured sun–but I couldn’t see downtown. It’s nine blocks away and it’s completely indiscernible.  The buildings across the street are barely discernible:

Given the volume of rain we’ve had in Edmonton I guess I was sort of in denial about the whole BC forest fires thing.  In reading an article about the smoke over at the Edmonton Journal Online, I really liked this guys response to the situation:

Well played sir.  That’s a petition I’d gladly sign and Envision wouldn’t even have to pay me to take part.

Well Italian Centre, you have helped me bring one more ridiculous meal to the table.  This afternoon’s pizza was an unbridled success although following Jeff Varsano’s advice and using as hot an oven as possible (in this case, my barbecue with a baking stone) led to a blazing inferno in my my barbecue.  The resulting cloud of smoke was thick enough to rival BCs forest fires and I don’t think the old lady living above me was terribly appreciative.  I should have brought her some of the wicked pizza.

Once the flames died down, we first cooked a pizza margherita and then followed it up with a carmelized onion and blue cheese pie. They were ridiculous.  Honestly, the Italian Centre dough is perfect, easy to handle and delicious–and cheap.

I can’t wait until my next pizza adventure.  I just hope that the crap in the bottom of my barbecue is all burned off so I don’t have to go through the stress of talking Robert down from a panic attack again.  I’m pretty sure he thought I was going to torch the whole building.  But it was fine. What could possibly go wrong?

Man, I forgot how awesome the Italian Centre is.  I head down to the Superstore on 51st and Calgary Trail often enough and the Italian Centre is just a block over from there but I somehow never make the short journey.  Yesterday, when I went out to refill my propane tank and buy some bread, I decided to skip Superstore (GASP! to those of you who know how much I love president’s choice) and try my luck with the Italians.  Galen Weston would be crying in his myriad sweaters if he knew I betrayed him. Next time Galen, next time.

I’m always impressed that everything at the Italian Centre is so cheap (my avocados were only 89¢!) and they have the best array of meats and cheeses.  The real surprise of the trip was the frozen pizza dough I discovered.  It’s made there in their own bakery and it’s four bucks for four balls.  You can’t make it for that!

Jennie’s coming by this afternoon and we’re going to make some-a-delicious-a-pizza-pies before heading down to Fringe (where I will be avoiding anything related to Teatro La Quindicina read here and here–they seem crazy and plus I don’t want to get banned from the beer gardens.  They just might try to extend their self-righteous grasp that far.)  Maybe the Teatro is just pissed off because the Next Act is under new ownership and management.  I know I am.  But either way: craaa-zyyyy.

On account of Gary’s complaining, I need to use something other than “that awful picture of him” which, unfortunately, I think is COMIC GENIUS!  For now, I’ve hand drawn the strip but I’ll tell you right now, I think it’s more effort than I’m willing to invest on a semi-regular basis.  At least until I’m done school permanently.

Very few of you are gonna get this so I should explain.  Didier and I were once text message conversing and the conversation literally unfolded as above.  The hilarious thing is that writing a saying such as potato/potato is as lost in texting as it is in blogging so I really need you to just bear with me.  Obviously, when Gary goofed and texted potato/potato it was the perfect opportunity to jump on something insanely hilarious and worthy of an ongoing inside joke.  So now, it is obviously one of my favourite sayings and I use it at virtually every opportunity.  It’s become part of my vernacular along with bitch please, that’s life, no big deal, and hey wha-haaapen?

My life is becoming a string of catch phrases AND I LOVE IT!

There have been a couple periods of my life where I’ve developed this uncanny feeling that I’m going to get something awesome in the mail and each time it resulted in me getting a surprise scholarship I didn’t know about.  Honestly.  Well, I’ve had that feeling again and have been neurotically checking my mailbox since it’s obviously a proven science and I’m certain that money is headed my way.  Quelle surprise when I received a piece of mail yesterday from the university with my address and someone else’s name.  Obviously the University had made a mistake, obviously this was a scholarship for me, obviously I just needed to call the University and inform them of their egregious error.  Alas, it was no scholarship; it was just mail for some dude who had the wrong address.  I lose.

Or do I?!

Skyping with Gary last night I recounted this story and we realized that even though this whole mail debacle was a disappointment, the name of the fellow for whom the letter was intended IS THE PERFECT PSEUDONYM FOR YOURS TRULY!  From now on, you may call me Roland Desrosiers: King of the Interents. (Yes, interents–please read the comments on this post of Gary’s to find out why. Hint: GET OFF THE INTERENT!!!!!)

This conversation led Gary to inform me of his pseudonym: Didier Flamonde.  I think he said he’d write a post about the evolution of his name (basically the GAYEST thing on earth) and when he does I will also link to that.

Given these two brilliant monikers, I felt it necessary to immortalize these characters in a comic book of sorts.  Gary and I have oft discussed how our lives would make a brilliant reality show (who wouldn’t want to watch two gays getting drunk in the afternoon at some bougie restaurant?) and I think the comic is possibly the best medium for our message.

Now, my blog track record isn’t great so I promise nothing but my intentions are good.  Also, we live in separate cities so its not like the hilarity is none stop these days.  Either way, you can look forward to The Adventures of Roland Desrosiers and Dider Flamonde as a semi-regular blog feature.

AMAZING!

Enter the lentil.

I. Love. Lentils.

My go to lentil meal of choice is a soup that I have perfected over several years that never fails to impress.  It’s one of the simplest things I make but it is so flavourful, so delicious, (so cheap!), and so comforting.  Whenever I feel off, it’s what I like to make.  I’m making some later today and I’ll gladly post some photos and recipes once I’m done.  But, dear reader, that’s not what this post is about.  This post is about the need to make an inexpensive salad for a pot luck.

The beauty of the lentil is its super filler ability.  In this salad, which is made mostly of pricey peppers, the lentils not only add a schwack of protein and nutrients, they stretch out the ingredients and make the salad go farther. VALUE!  The cheap man in me is grinning with the delight at my devilish cleverness–or rather, the cleverness of the folks at Planet Organic since that’s where I found the original recipe.  I included my version below the few small variations I made.

I’m happy with the outcome though I feel like the salad still needs a little something.  If you try it out and improvise a bit, let me know what you come up with.  I’m always up for permutations in recipes.  My first inclination is to add feta and olives but today I’m too cheap and am keeping this a low budget delight.  Next time.

Mediterranean Lentil Salad

Ingredients

2 cups French lentils (they keep their texture best)

2 bay leaves

1 cup chopped parsley

1 tbsp garlic, minced

1 cup green onion, thinly sliced

1/4 cup sun-dried tomatoes, finely chopped

1/4 cup extra virgin olive oil

1/4 cup red wine vinegar

2 tsp basil

1 cup each yellow, red, and orange pepper diced

1 1/2 tsp kosher salt

freshly ground black pepper to taste

Method

Bring a medium sized pot of water to a boil, add lentils and bay leaves, reduce heat and cook until tender 20-30 minutes.

Remove from heat, drain and rinse under cold water to cool.  Drain again and place in a large bowl.  Add all remaining ingredients and toss evenly to coat.

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Life in the big onion is sometimes trying–the Fringe, West Edmonton Mall, taking transit–but I like my life here okay thanks to my wicked awesome friends. For the whole of my twenties, however, I’ve been steadily losing these friends to other cities and better climates while I continue to plod through waist deep snow eight months of the year. Last night was the farewell party of another great Edmontonian, my dear friend Emanuel, and as the kitty above suggests, he will be sorely missed.

The good thing about Emanuel’s send off was the dance party at the babehaus. Crystal, Christal, Jill and Martina sure know how to throw a shindig with the help of President’s Choice (WHICH I LOVE!) and some rad DJ-ing by yours truly. I find that going out dancing is super lame these days because every bar seems to want to play unrecognizable remixes of well loved songs into which you can only interject the odd “my my my my poker face” as the lyrics become vaguely decipherable behind the “mmm cchhh mmm cchhh” of the track. Anyhow, the wickedness of last night’s babehaus dance was that it was fun to get down to some singable hits à la Mariah Carey, Toni Braxton, Backstreet Boys et al. sans remix. Aside from a clear PWNing by Ted in what was supposed to be a dance off but was really no competition, I consider the evening a success based on Laurel’s sweet dance moves and how often we played Aphrodite. (YOU COULD PLAY THIS SONG 10 TIMES IN A ROW AND IT WON’T BE ENOUGH!).

The point of all this being that Emanuel will be missed, Edmontonians are rad, the babehaus is awesome and, sorry dear friends, but Robert and I will be joining the likes of Emanuel and Gary in Vancouver next year once I finish school. I hate to leave all my fantastic Edmonton friends but I can’t handle the snow anymore.

As I am currently mid-practicum, I have very little spare time dear friends. I’ve done my best to maintain some semblance of a social life but with all eyes on me, I need to make sure I do a good job in my classroom.

At least this week is spring break and I have been able to catch up on my relaxo time. Monday was spent playing the new Final Fantasy (XIII for those who count), Tuesday I trekked around from Whyte to downtown (which caused me to realize that I’m getting old–I think I need some kind of orthopaedic insert for my old man feet. My converse just don’t offer the support my tender feet need.), and today was spent with my nephews. I’m having them over for a sleep over and they’re playing LittleBigPlanet as we speak (I love that I just let them play video games and that earns me the title of favourite uncle. Amazing.)

I’ve still been loving my new camera and have been a photographing up a storm. Stay tuned for more photo-blogging of me, my life, and all things Edmonton.

I can’t promise that there’ll be a ton of it until the end of April though. 30 students in an elementary class is a lot of work!

When I complained about the grey-ness in the weather the other day, Jeff let me know that had I been up bright and early, I could have caught something spectacular.

Feeling inspired by his insight into all things Edmonton and his early-bird-gets-the-worm attitude, I changed my tune and energetically rose from bed this morning to partake in a photo adventure for one, hoping to immortalize some fleeting moment to which only I would bear witness.

But that didn’t happen–unless you count the man I saw pick his nose.

Beyond witnessing his faux-pas, I managed only to snap a few shots of the Legislature before my hands froze and my camera battery died, but such is life. My early morning made me feel productive enough even though I’ve basically spent the rest of the day watching Ina Garten and pressing refresh on facebook.