Thirty (Eighteen?) Forever

I filled out an online survey today and stopped cold when I got to the age question. Suddenly, I found myself hovering over the "18 to 35" bracket and realizing that I don't belong there anymore. Now I'm in "36 to 50". FIFTY. Ya gotta be kidding me?

Yup, I just got older (again!). Never mind that I have a mortgage, two kids, full-time job and such, there's just no way I ever made it past 18. At least, not mentally. The fact that I am responsible for all these very serious things is laughable. Hubby used to have a t-shirt that read "cleverly disguised as a responsible adult." That's me.

I'm trying not to look older, which requires a level of physical commitment that I haven't explored since before the Smurf came along. Working out and eating right and all that stuff. And I should probably cut back on the wine some, eh? (Ok, maybe that's a little extreme ...)

All that had to wait until *after* my birthday, cuz there's no way I'm skimping out on that special occasion.

We started with a night out at Murray Street KWC the Friday before to eat local and get a healthy dose of the meat sweats going on. First course was a charcuterie plate featuring elk terrine, Seed to Sausage sopressata and chorizo, Brie-style Sauvagine, and Pine River seven-year-old cheddar. All this with some crunchy crostini and still-warm sourdough, Mrs. McGarrigle's red wine grainy mustard, and myriad sweet-n-savoury condiments. Paired that with a glass of Cave Spring NV Dolomite bubbly - I can't believe I've never tried this before. Lovely sweetness within crisp, Granny-Smith-apple acidity, a moderate amount of bubbles and a lingering finish.

So full of round one, I opted for another appetizer for round two, instead of a main. Thank gawd, cuz when that mini cauldron of duck confit-spaetzle poutine came to the table, I was fairly certain I would have to roll home afterwards. Couldn't turn down a pint of Ashton Harvest Brown to go with it, of course: a coffee-ish ale that brought out the "beast" in the beast gravy.

While the food was good, the prices were rather inflated for the portions we got. The service was pretty lacklustre, with impatient staff who elbowed me more than once as they served our neighbours (quite cramped out on the patio. Will sit inside next time.)

Nothing beats the scrumptious dinner made for me by Hubby Dearest, though: steak oscar (topped with shrimp and a bearnaise sauce) to go with a swanky Sterling Vineyard cabernet sauvignon. Between that and the handcrafted objets d'art from the Doodle, turning 36 was worth it. Even if I did move up to the next bracket.