Um...it's windy here.

I can't write about my class until it's over, but I have much more to say about the tedious details of travelling. Yay!

Through a series of unfortunate events--i.e. I got lost--I ended up back at my hotel at 8 pm, starving. I was seated in the smallest, darkest corner of the already tiny lounge of the hotel restaurant. Women dining alone are not permitted an entire table to themselves, as I have discovered. I was cheered by the arrival of my brut, which was charmingly served not in a flute but a classic coupe. The glass was tinted with that lovely dusky grey that you find in antique markets. My utensils were gently placed upon marble stones--a long thin slab for my spoon and knife and a small round piece for the tongs of my fork.

Upon the arrival of my single scallop, my champagne coupe became much less attractive. In fact, it looked downright tawdry trying so hard to distract me from the pitiful plate in front of me. It took me a scant 15 seconds to finish my "meal". The accompaniments: A long thin intestine-like coil of butternut squash foam, which separated the scallop from the scallop mousse--a gelatinous mound that resisted my fork for a good while until I was finally able to break it, quite like a stale pudding. The taste was a muted sweet rot. It was not warm or cold, but room temperature. And this foam business. Who enjoys tepid food-flavoured foam? Who? It was all very upsetting. Defeated, I slumped back to my room and spent at least an hour trying to order food online.

Oh, and the name of the restaurant? L2O. I should have known.

Highlight of my day, which will be of particular interest to my good friend Jennifer Baker: Lynda Barry does a fantastic skid! Of a slightly different flavour than our beloved Alberta skid, but equally hilarious!