There’s a practice in my culture where you’re not supposed to eat when a grandparent (and perhaps any close relative) dies. I think the reasoning is that being overcome by grief makes you lose your appetite.
When I was a kid I used to think it was symbolic of the fact that the grandparent was no longer around to care/provide for the grandchild.

My great-aunt passed away this morning, in the same hospital my grandmother (her sister) died almost three decades ago.
We called her Aunty Yaa, and she was the last of my grandmother’s siblings alive, a generation has passed on.
My siblings and I, we sort of owe our existence to her – she introduced my parents (before they’d be parents) and played matchmaker, but I don’t hold that against her.
She lived a long, long fulfilling life and always treated me lovingly; I lived with her and my great-uncle Dan briefly when my parents’ marriage ended.
They’d recall stories of their travels and she’d talk about my grandmother, whom I never really knew, and for a while I felt like a child again.

I didn’t get to see her much after that brief stay, my great-uncle Dan passed away a few years later, that was about the last time I saw her.
For my mom, it’s little like she’s lost her mother all over again, and that’s hard to take.
On Sunday she called home and my aunt B. held the phone up to Aunty Yaa so she could hear her breath, and I could tell she was comforted.
I’m sad that she’s gone, that I’ll never see her again, she was the only ‘grandmother’ I had.
It’s a kind of dull grief that surrounds and touches everything around me; I haven’t felt this kind of sorrow in a while.
If there’s life after death, then she’s in a better place, happy and reunited with her husband, her siblings, her mother, her friends… all together again. And that is comforting.

So there’ll be no talk of food today; instead I’ll leave you with this:
Sinead O’Connor singing ‘Lay Your Head Down’….

After much wishing and hoping, Vancouver finally has its very first macaron shop.
Yep, a little shop solely devoted to macarons (and tea)… right here in our pretty city.
Of course, most of the French bakeries and pastries shops have macarons, but a macaron-only shop surely deserves special mention.
Soirette, it’s called and I’ve been twice since they opened a few months ago – a testament to my self-control, since it’s only a block out of my way on my daily route.

The macarons from Soirette are quite possibly the best macarons I’ve had in Vancouver.
I shan’t compare them to Ladurée or Pierre Hermé because that’ll be unfair, besides everything just seems to taste better in Paris.
Case in point, the Ladurée macarons I had in New York (which are flown from Paris) were awesome but wasn’t as sensational as an afternoon of ‘macarons and Rosé’ at the Tuileries.

Admittedly, Soirette makes fine quality macarons; the texture is airy and delicate, the ganache layer is just the right amount, soft, with flavours that taste fresh and natural, there’s nothing artificial about them.
The macarons are not overly sweet, allowing the natural flavours of the almond and ganache to come through.
My favourites are pistachio, caramel fleur de sel and matcha .
The shop is in Coal Harbour on West Pender with an adorable modern chic tea-shop interior.

Soirette Macarons and Tea
1433 W Pender Street
Vancouver BC V6G 2S3
604 558 3308

Some days I feel like I’ve lived here for far too long, seen it all, and perhaps it’s time for newer adventures, and then I go and discover a place like Sasamat Lake.
I can’t believe I’d never heard of this place until last summer.

Today fittingly felt like a spring day, brisk cold morning, cheery skies and a cold bright sunshiny day.
There are more sunny days in the forecast for the next few days, and that makes me smile – I’m glad to see this mercurial winter go, I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy for the start of a new season.
I’m hopeful we’ll have a great summer; I’m looking forward to 9pm sunsets, reading on the beach, cherries from the farmers’ market and flowers everywhere!

But mostly, I look forward to breakfasts in the summer, there’s something seemingly idyllic about waking up to the sun streaming through your window that makes food taste better.

I love pastries and fruit on mornings like that; it’s summer’s version of a hot porridge on a cold winter’s morning. So comforting!
It doesn’t take much to get to this breakfast, just a quick jaunt to the bakery – I pick up some croissants, pain au chocolat and pain au lait. And from the market across the street, I select the juiciest fruits… peaches, apples, cherries… from towns in the Okanagan with apt names like Summerland and Peachland.

At home, I brew myself a large cup of rooibos with almond milk and golden syrup, it tastes glorious!
I sit quietly at the table; eat slowly, every bite delightful…

Another thing about summer… the abundance of lovely flowers.
I’ll think back to those grey days in winter as I savour my breakfast, and reflect on how much I’m reveling in the warm glowing day – perhaps those grey days are necessary to appreciate wonderful summer days.

Maybe this weekend’s sun will inspire one of those tea and pastries breakfasts, luscious Anjou pears are in season.
I really hope summer makes it way here soon… because I really want to do this over and over again.

So last summer when my friend E. came up from Portland for a visit, we went up to Grouse, and then up to the Eye of the Wind Turbine.
On clear days, I can see the turbine from my desk at work, and I wanted to wait till I had out-of-town guests to go up there…