Quaintrelle Weekender

I just sat down to pen this erudite missive, when I was interrupted by the city street cacophony below. I live 14 stories above one of Toronto’s busiest thoroughfares. I’ve learned to tune out the construction, sirens, horns, and rumbling engines that provide the constant soundtrack to my days, but this one thundered through the usual din.

“LEFT lane! Left LANE! LEFT LANE! MOTHERFUCKER!”

I don’t think people know how easily sound carries. I spend most of my time from May through October on my lanai. My outdoor space becomes my dining room, entertaining area, conversation pit, and library.

I hear it all, whether I want to or not. Drivers talking on the car’s hands-free stereo, I’ve heard who was fired, promoted, and cheated on. I’ve heard gossip girls giggling down the street, utterly gobsmacked that an associate actually did that with that guy. And I’ve heard the bros, beers in hand and barbecue alight, from their ground-floor patios, boasting bravado and thumping chests over their most recent stealth negotiations. I don’t have faces to match the stories, but I know these phantoms’ most private secrets.

But it seems we’re ok with that.

Back when I was a reporter, I was always amazed what people would tell me if I simply asked: soul-crushing debt, insurmountable addiction, chronic infidelity. You ask, people answer.

Maybe we’re all just desperate to be heard.

And maybe that’s what opened the Pandora’s box of social media. What started as a simple way for friends and family to get a virtual slide show of the annual holiday, has now splintered into a hate-it-but-can’t-live-without-it necessity. An endless scroll of daily lunches, unpacking shopping bags, coffee art, and home renos.

And with our bare-alls – from a fresh haircut to the real-time birth of a child – maybe we assume everyone wants to hear everything about us all the time. Cue the speaker phone. (Actually, for the love of GOD, please don’t.)

If you follow Robert Greene he suggests the real power lies in mystery. The one to to show their hand at a meeting is the one to lose the most.

With that in mind, this will be my last Quaintrelle.

Just kidding.

I still have way more I want to share.

Ghost Gardens. The heatwave in the UK is revealing some spooky and spectacular gardens from the past.

Make Your Own Cultured Butter. Not to get all Trad Wife on you (though we all know Trad Wives are just stone-cold business B’s anyway) but making your own butter is cool. I know because I’ve done it and I’m cool. I believe to justify the effort, the young ones are marketing this as a, “grandma hobby.” Anyway, I love good butter, but here in Toronto, the standard, grocery store brick is mostly watered-down, pale yellow tasteless stuff selling for an offensive $8 a pound. And if you want the good stuff…? Jeez Louise, it’s not out of the question to pay over $20 a pound. But, if you repurpose those dollars, you can make your own “French styled” buerre with some cream and yogurt and be so much happier.

Your Emoji Use Reveals Your Age. 🎁 🔗 from the 🗽🕰️🗞️

Touched by the Sun: My Friendship with Jackie by Carly Simon. I’m listening to this on Audio, which, I think, totally “counts.” I posited this question on Notes earlier this week, and the responses I received suggest you do, too. I’m a bit obsessed with Jackie O – who isn’t? – so I was really looking forward to diving into this six-hour listen on my daily 10k walks. I would say it’s 70% autobiography of Carly Simon’s life, which is interesting in its own right, and there are lots of fun stories and name dropping, but I was really there for the Jackie angle. We don’t learn anything new about the Jackie, still, it’s interesting to see how the close and intense friendship between Jackie and Carly evolved and existed. And Carly, not surprisingly, is a fabulous writer. Elizabeth McGovern narrated and did a brilliant job with her imitation of Jackie.

Last Sunday’s Dinner: Mustard-glazed pork tenderloin with crispy potatoes and simple green salad

Tonight’s Dinner: Turkey chili with sourdough bread

The Weekend Cocktail: Tinto de Verano

The Weekend Wine: Tornatore Etna Rosso, Sicily, Italy $25

It looks like it’s going to be a cool and rainy one in Toronto, which is a slight bummer, but not totally. My favourite kind of cooking is fall cooking, so maybe I’ll get in a few practice rounds before the real thing gets started in another month or so.

Is that offensive?

We’ll chat more on Monday.

Be good. Tell me what it’s like.

xo – Erin