Poutine!

I introduced my friends to the infamous French Canadian POUTINE (not sure why autocorrect insists on all capitals here) last night, and despite their skepticism it was a resounding success. 

Of course I could not obtain cheese curds, so we improvised with a few variations.  Even the blue cheese version went over well. 

A combination of French fries, gravy and cheese - diets were parked at door.  

And then we had to move on to some salmon marinated in maple syrup and jalapeño.  It is a bit fun sharing some of the taken-for-granted-Canadian-stuff with friends here.

Although I miss having all the entertaining  "gear" that I had back in Canada, I am making do and enjoy cooking for friends once again.  

At First Sight

That is it.  I am completely and totally in love.

The first evening was spent wandering about the city
streets, delightfully lost.  

I have never really had a surprise trip before.  Although I had some suspicions about the destination,  I really did not ultimately know until I was at the gate.  How is this possible in today's modern world of high security air travel?  Let me just say that I did not even have to show one piece of identification from the moment I entered the airport until arriving at the hotel.  Yes, apparently the hotel was more concerned about my identity than airport security, but alas that is a rant and not quite what I am in the mood for today.

So I arrived in Venice (not Venus as auto correct would prefer to have had me doing for some reason) and immediately fell in love.

There was an adorable old book store, absolutely loaded with used books.  Anyone who knows me is well-acquainted with my affinity for old and antique books.  The wonderful staircase of books was hidden in the books store's rear courtyard and lead to a spectacular canal view.  I could have spent hours there.

This little trip was good for me.  As I shared before, the road has been a bit bumpy lately.  I have spent much time worrying about things of which I had no control.  Enjoying a moment had become difficult because I was not in it.  My mind was elsewhere.  

Of course we had to do a tour on the black gondola. I like to call this photo "rush hour in Venice."

To cross or not to cross?  Translated this sign reads "Bridge of the Devil". Guess what I did?

How could I not fall in love with this place when waking to this view each morning of my short stay?

Heading under the famous Rialto bridge in the black gondola.

But then Venice happened.  I found myself living only in the moment.  Absorbing the history, the people, the vibe of the place - I have to admit that I even adore the sound of the language.  No, it is not my first time in Italy, far from it in fact, I seem to have sort of have a thing for this country.

Anyway, to ramble on seems wrong somehow.  I cannot do the affection I have for this place justice - perhaps the photos will instead :)

So true.  I found this at the Peggy Guggenheim Museum and loved the sentiment.