Quaintrelle Weekender

If you're into legs, I've got a recommendation for great socks. And a cure, kindof, for misophonia.

Welcome to Quaintrelle Weekender.

This is a short list of things I am currently loving to make eating, drinking, and hosting easier and a lot more interesting.

“Her world is built 'round discotheques and parties, this pleasure-seeking individual always (?) looks her best, 'cause she's a dedicated follower of fashion.” – The Kinks (with a few minor edits from me.)

This is what I have looked like for the last 65 days.

I made a vow to myself at the start of the year to pull myself together. At least once or twice a week. I should know better than to make impossible resolutions.

I have been drifting (Narrator: she’s fully drifted) into a uniform of stretchy pants and leggings, and, catching a glimpse of myself in a photo from Wine School, donning a cozy beige sweater, black leggings and Ugg boots, I quickly realized, it’s not a good look. At least outside of the chalet. (Narrator: she doesn’t have a chalet…)

We can wax on all we’d like about not judging a book for its cover, that women are held to impossible standards, that clothes do not make the (wo)man.

We can also complain that Toronto is weighed down by five-foot snowbanks lining every roadway, unplowed sidewalks, unreliable transit, ankle-deep slush, and pools of dirty water swirling in deep potholes, just waiting to be tsunamied on pedestrians from oblivious/careless drivers whizzing by.

I’m not saying I’m about to go traipsing down the icy sidewalks in four-inch stilettos, that would be a level of comedy equal to my current fashion tragedy, but I really do need to adopt a level discipline surrounding my style.

Before you know it, it’ll be 30°C and 100% humidity, and I’ll be moaning it’s too hot to wear proper clothes. My leggings will be swapped for a summer caftan. I loathe waistbands.

This madness has got to stop.

I am currently taking any and all recommendations for quality pieces and easy, go-to uniforms. Price is no object. (Narrator: price is very much an object…)

Stylish ladies, I am in your capable hands. Tell me your secrets.

Wine Q of the Week:

“What are ‘legs’ in wine?” – Jasjeet, wine student

A:

Interchangeably known as legs, or tears, depending on your mood and your preferred body parts, these are the liquid lines that streak down a wine glass.

Now, sommeliers are just like dieticians or parenting experts: everyone has their own take on a common question.

For me, I don’t really pay attention to the tears/legs unless they’re doing something really extraordinary: super thick, moving at a snail’s pace, or deeply coloured.

I think tears are like the moon: it’s always there, but we don’t really mention it unless it’s really full, or bright, or low, or whatever. Otherwise it’s just taken for granted, for better or worse.

Tears can be an indication of alcohol and sugar levels in a wine. Swirl a glass of port (a high alcohol/high sugar red wine) and you will likely see thick, slow moving, purple tears drip back into the glass. Swirl a glass of water, and you will likely see nothing.

Things that can affect the tears, however, include the quality of the glass – thin crystal or chunky, banquet-hall wine glasses will show tears differently. The cleanliness of the glass will also affect the tears, a second pour will show differently than the first, and even if there’s a little residual dish soap that wasn’t properly washed away could adjust things.

Ultimately, in my books, I think tears can occasionally assist in an assessment of a wine, but are far from the most important element in the appreciation of it.

Curious about wine, hosting, and party planning? Our operators are standing by!

Rise and shine

White Noise Machine Sunrise Alarm Clock

I think I suffer from Misophonia. It’s a self diagnosis, but the University of Google validates my belief that certain noises overwhelm me. Improper chewing of gum and speaker phone are chief amongst my triggers. Also Elon Musk’s voice, but I’m not sure that counts.

Regardless of whether or not I’m amongst the 1 in 5 people suffering from this debilitating condition, the wha!-wha!-wha! of a traditional alarm clock is a jarring start to my day.

So let’s talk about my amazing new alarm clock (my sister refuses to discuss it with me anymore, which I find highly unsupportive, but she’s always been like that.)

First of all it’s very stylish – a tough thing for alarm clocks to be. The digital numbers can be dimmed which is a fabulous feature for sensitive sleepers like me. The soft sun light has a range of the ROYGBIV colour spectrum (I like the warm yellow-orange, if you’re wondering) which gently gets brighter as your wake timing draws near. There’s something like 23 different sounds for the alarm (I like the chirping birds of the forest), and there’s a sound machine, which I deeply require for a sound sleep in a busy city. The sound machine option creepily offers sounds of lullabies and a heartbeat, as well as nature sounds like crackling fire and crashing waves, but I like the simple, swooshing fan noise.

Sock it to Me

BR Cashmere Socks

So, I was never a sock person per se.

I mean, I wore them. Not a lot. I prefer to go barefoot as much as I can. But obviously, socks are necessary during certain times and on certain occasions.

So I never really spent that much on socks (this might be part of my style problem.) They were just a necessary accessory to literally get from here to there. Then, a few Christmases ago, my mum got me some truly game-changing Kate Spade socks. Needless to say, my sock snobbery has increased 100 fold.

Enter Banana Republic cashmere socks.

Are cashmere socks an indulgence? Absolutely. But if you can find room in your budget to splurge a little, your feet will never be the same.

Right now they’re on sale in Canada for $20 a pair ($60 for a 3-pack), and if you’re fine with light grey or cream, as low as $18 for a 3-pack.

Snack of the Week:

Steak tartare

A funny things happened to me last Thursday. I had invited friends over for apéro. A simple few hours of gossip paired to gougère, steak tartare, olives, and bubbly.

And then I found out I was scheduled to teach a class at George Brown College. (I am nothing if not professional.)

Luckily, gougère can be frozen, olives will preserve forever in brine, bubbly can stay on ice, and tenderloin can become Friday night’s dinner (I don’t really like making tartare from previously frozen meats, I feel the texture goes a little weird for my liking.)

Anyway, this is one of my favourite menus for simple and stylish entertaining. It’s just too bad I had to work instead.

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Thank you for reading!