Here's a Foodie Post for K-Dough

My Rude Blog Friend K-Dough inspired me to post this little snippet into my Friday night dinner at Miller's Ale House in Tallahassee, FL.

Note that Sheena nibbled on fish tacos while her dining companions gnawed on the bone.

More Cooking with Fruit

What to do with BC Cherries that are a few days old and you are heading out of town the next day but you feel too guilty about throwing them out. Or when it has just been too long since you torched something for sheer shits and giggles:

Cherries Jubilee à La Sheena

1. Cut up a bunch of cherries. Just slice them in half and pop out the pit. After doing a dozen or so look at the knife in your now dripping red hands and chase your friends around the room pretending you are a crazed stabby murderer.

2. Squeeze the hell out of an orange. Make sure you get all the juice by pretending that you are crushing the skull of someone that you hate.

3. Melt a big spoonful of butter in a proper frying pan. Meaning one that is all metal and not poisonous teflon coatings. Remember this is the pan you will soon set on fire.

4. When melted, throw in about a quarter cup of sugar, then the OJ.

5. Put the cherries in, and lightly dust with some cinnamon or something.

6. Cook the shit out of it for about 15 minutes, or until most of the juice is evaporated and it reminds you of those disgusting Harvard Beets your mom always puts on the table but no one ever eats.

5. In a separate small pan, gently warm up a 1/2 cup or so of some booze. Sheena used white rum, but could also be Grand Marnier or cognac depending on what is leftover from the night before.

6. Pour the warmed booze over the cherries, in a dry spot not too juicy and light a match to it. Cover your eyebrows. Best done at night so you can see the blue flame and get more ooh-ahs from your guests. If they do not ooh-ah to your satisfaction tell them to pay attention asshole or you aren't getting any.

7. Pour the warmed boozy cherries over good quality vanilla ice cream not the cheap chemical gross generic brands that give me the runs for the next 24 hours.

8. Enjoy and gloat over your wonderfulness as a hostess and act really exhausted so your guests will do the dishes.

BONED again and again and again ...

Tee hee.. Thanks Flyboy

Tasteless Sunday Morning Post

Tragic and odd news out of Australia this weekend.

King of the World

Sheena has always had a particular affection for the shopping cart born free. For the brave little hell on wheels who had the guts to break away from the pack. See the world, carry a load of drunk chicks in Prada heels instead of Wonder Bread and 24-packs of toilet paper.

From one of those early nights in Winnipeg when the Beast and I drove each other home, only to look up and see my boss through the thin metal grid, to the backlane during a post-social revelry when Pat and I wore hockey ref shirts over our little black dresses and duct taped people together, to that cash-flow positive evening in Miami when I pulled in $35 US DOLLARS giving people rides around the hotel parking lot, and of course that fateful night in Fredericton when I made the project manager jump in and we crash landed at the doorstep of the next pub down the block smiling pretty so the bouncer didn't send us down the hill...

So many people have said, "Sheena, Kitchener-Waterloo? WTF"? Strangely, this community has felt like home almost from day 1. And I think I know why. Let's take a little walk in a 3 block radius, shall we?

The one pic I regret not getting was of my little beacon. The shopping cart that rested beside the fire hydrant directly across the street from my house. It sat there as a reminder of which place was mine, from the date of closing to just last weekend, when one of the neighbour kids hopped on and and like Leonardo DiCaprio in Titantic, threw his chest out triumphantly and rolled down the hill....

More New Neighbourhood Shit

This is for The Cheek who wondered aloud about the existence of a Beer Float. Clearly Sheena fucked up and shoulda tooken ya to the Huether.

Pretty acceptable burger with bleu cheese at some Marbles place which I guess has been around for a while. Lord knows why. Appreciated the effort to promote VQA small production vineyards, but why pick the shittiest of the batch with a Chardonnay Musqué? Neither a Chardonnay nor a muscat, it is the worst of both. Why bother spending last 30 fucking years ripping out the concords if this is what we're getting. Pretty indifferent service too. Maybe they aren't used to catering to the nose-in-the-newspaper chick crowd. Actually it wasn't EXACTLY a newspaper. More of a satirical rag where I read the Letters to the Editor.

Sheena Gets A Tastefully Done Arse-Kissing from the Cheek

http://cheekiermesly.blogspot.com/2007/08/sheena-sojourn.html

Bloody hell my waitress hair looked hot that night...

Kitchener Blues Fest Highlights

The porta-potties being used to service the big crowd turn out in front of City Hall for David Wilcox were provided by Sheena's all-time favourite porta potty manufacturer: Rama Plastics in Orillia, Home of the "PJ". Sheena and her coven of Molson Indy Beer Garden Queens have enjoyed Rama products for many years and have come to rely on them for both physical and comedic relief.


Ladies! Please heed Sheena's heartfelt warning! This is NOT a purse holder. Repeat. NOT A PURSE HOLDER.


Hard earned badge of honour:
Dinner afterwards - Zucchini Sticks and Deep Fried Mushrooms with ranch sauce:

Sweet Home Manitoba... Where The Skies Are so Blue...

New SheenaVision YouTube Vid Links:

One call from LA and we’d pack and fly away But in our hearts we’re always prairie folk Looking back at a prairie town People ask me why I went away To fly with the best, sometimes you have to leave the nest But the prairies made me what I am today

Well Woman

Got a very disturbing telemarketing call from AIG Insurance tonight. Obviously gender and age target marketing. The nice sounding girl immediately started in on a script outlining the 7 most common forms of cancer women in my age bracket can get and how this new policy provides financial assistance during treatments etc etc. I was quiet for a sec, and then thanked her for calling, said it sounded like a perfectly reasonable program but that I really was not expecting such a depressing morbid conversation when I picked up the phone and while I knew she was just doing a job, thought it was rather strange and tasteless and wished her a nice evening as I hung up.

Googled it later and was mortified.

Well Woman is a breakthrough insurance product
exclusively for women that gives you cash to use
however you want. Innovative financial protection plan
that no woman should be without.

Receive CASH benefits – if you are ever diagnosed with cancer of the breasts, fallopian tubes, cervix, ovaries, uterus, vagina, or vulva, Well Woman will pay cash directly to you.

Use the CASH however you want – You can use the money however you want, whether it's to replace lost income, for household expenses, prescriptions, or even to cover in or out-of-country alternative treatment.

Puts me right off my smokes, taquitos and Chinese lead paint coated sex toys tonight.

I Don't Know for a FACT They're Gay, but I'm Pretty Sure

OK. How does one get rid of fruit flies? They came in either on the corn, the peaches or some flowers I put on the table. They are very very annoying. Getting a lizard or frog is not an option.

In the Court of the Jungle Queen

Sheena held court for visiting blogger peeps and other people that we like last night in her new courtyard where all paid appropriate fealty and homage.

Unfortunately I was so busy slaving over a hot BBQ grill I neglected to take pictures of my roasted corn-in-the husk, garlicky BBQ chicken and for dessert grilled Niagara Peaches basted with olive oil and sprinkled with rosemary, served over vanilla icecream. So I will have to wait for the Cheek to post hers.

Vino was courtesy of my Sunday Niagara Run: The Flat Rock pinot noir and Flat Rock Nadja's Vineyard Riesling. Lurve the Flat Rock these days.

Toast-worthy nightcap with just Sheena and the Cheek on the darkened patio, our faces lit only by the multicoloured festive LED lights and the Henry of Phlegm Catherine Brut Rosé. Have not yet tried out the fire-pit in the patio table, but maybe this weekend.

Favourite house-warming gift. SO FAR.




A good place to rest the tired dogs after a long day of shopping in St. Jacob. Had the Stonehammer something.




Moving is not a pleasant thing for the awkward and uncoordinated. Even when I'm wearing my exercise shoes:



Girl Blogger Leg Tangle:


More for FUH2:

Wookin' Pa Nub...

Oh FCS.

How many times am I gonna fall for that Etchings line, anyways.

Good Beaver Eating

Lunch last week during move-o-rama at The Beaver on Queen W. For a Tuesday was pretty quiet out back on the patio at noon, which was OK. Had the very yummy proscuitto/parmesan argula salad and a Strongbow Cider. Highly recommended. Dining companion had the all day breakfast with bacon, which he raved about but didn't look like anything to blog about. Whereas my salad was.


Oh, and if anyone has recently just finished psychotherapy in order to go pee in public bathrooms, don't drink beer here.

A True Fashion Story (updated for salad pic)

While Sheena is loving her new house and having fun exploring the new 'hood, she still finds herself unable to tear herself away from the old 'hood on Queen W. Dinner with El Chaperone at the Gladstone Hotel. My new favourite thing to eat there is the Near North Salad. Very interesting mixture of ingredients: mixed greens, spiced nuts, grapes, grilled salmon, teensy new potatoes. Had swooned every time I've had it and have yet to polish off the full plate. $11.95 and is a substantial meal.

Ok, so we're yakking and catching up and figuring out some of the last move details. Then somehow the conversation turned to a big box of Sheena's old stuff. You know the kind, stuff that has to be sorted and left behind. Too good to throw out, but not new house worthy. Really all you can do is put it into a big box and drop it at the donation box.

Shoes that never fit right. Souvenir shirts that are hideous. Trade show tote bags that are too ugly to use in public. Vintage shop purses that seemed like a good idea at the time. Dresses from 15 years ago that haven't fit for 10.

I asked if he dropped off the box. He turned a bit flushed and squirmed on the bar stool. Sheena zeroed in and asked the question again, more directly. A flood of words flowed out but all I could make out was "turquoise" "dress" "cross dressing party" "I love this".

Huh?

20 minutes later the full story emerged. Some of the regulars at Sweaty Betty's had been invited to a cross-dressing party and didn't have anything to wear. So El Chaperone cherry-picked my box of stuff and took it to the bar. So my shoes and dresses were passed around from guy to guy like a cheerleader with a runny nose until one of the gals in the room shrieked "OMG I LOVE THAT DRESS" and saved it from humiliation. I thank her.

So before my next trip to the neighbourhood Sheena needs to steel herself and mentally prepare for the sight of Zanta in my prom dress. I think I can deal with it.

Updated to add picture of the Near North Salad which is pretty much the most perfect non-hot meal ever eaten.