It takes time to readjust to a place. I cried when I flew over Vancouver, the forest-covered islands sitting lush and pretty beneath the plane’s wings. Maggie Rogers’ That’s Where I Am rang in my headphones, the anthem of a city I have always thought of as home. I didn’t realise how much I’d missed it. I was last here moving my best friend from Kitsalano to Calgary, and after a fallow year in 2025 not visiting Canada, the last two trips have been to the mountains and the lakes. Both beautiful, but there’s something about those BC trees. The spruce, the pine, the douglas fir. I’ve just returned from Tofino, where coves and long beaches are punctuated by little islands of these trees. Even the ale is spiked with sitka spruce.
I’ve experienced all manners of weather since leaving Lake Invermere last week. Smoke and wildfires gave way to sheet lightning; fog and mist cleared on the island to reveal the hottest of sunbeams; I awoke to thunderstorms and rain this morning. I’m sitting outside one of my favourite spots here – Federal Store, where the grilled cheese and tomato soup is so good, I considered ordering it for breakfast – and the clouds are parting slowly but surely. I drove here, my Evo account finally reinstated, and that’s when I know all the necessary readjustments have been made. When I’m cruising up Main St, Bluetooth connected, no need for directions because I know at least this corner of this city.
Lots of barbecues because I’ve been on holiday (and that means exclusively cooking outside) – my friend Rob made a steamed then charred cauliflower basted in buffalo sauce (vinegar-based hot sauce + lots of butter). Revelation was a miso mayo combo with a squeeze of lime to dip everything into.
Just a reminder to not overlook patty pan squash (sort of courgette sun with a pumpkin moon?) – just halve or quarter (depending on their size), season with salt and pepper, drizzle with oil and grill them on the barbecue. Great tossed into a big summer salad with kale, charred corn and feta.
Discovered Hawkins Cheezies for the first time whilst enjoying a flight of beer from Tofino Brewery, and I’m addicted. Like a Cheeto and a NikNak had a baby. Bonus, please enjoy this Walrus piece entitled “Are Hawkins Cheezies the Snack Food of Canadian Sovereignty?”.
For some reason when I come to Canada, I exclusively eat breakfast wraps and am on a mission to find the best one. In Tofino, Rhino delivered and made me realise that actually, two fried eggs are better than a scramble. Still trying to perfect wrapping a burrito. I’m trusting Owen Han and watching this video over and over again to get it right.
Shout out to Adriana’s in Tofino for a sandwich that nearly rivals Joel’s at Roundhouse (not quite because no one makes foccacia like Joel; I’ll die on that hill, clutching his mortadella and mustard mayo sandwich in the process). Anyway, after a two hour surf session, I started with a slice of pizza loaded with salami and hot honey, and ate a chicken caesar sandwich on the smallest cove with glee. The paper thin slices of chicken are what did it for me.
Two films I’ve watched in the past couple of weeks that I loved: Sorry, Baby and My Old Ass. The latter is written and directed by Megan Park (who wrote and directed Sterling Point, my new obsession) – it follows an 18 year old who takes a mushroom trip and as a result meets her 39 year old self, played by Aubrey Plaza, who tries to get her to course correct her life. Sorry, Baby, is a film I’ve had downloaded for so long but knew I needed to be in the right mood. I watched it on the plane and fell in love. It focuses on a college lit professor who is muddling through her early thirties after being sexually assaulted by her professor whilst she was a student at the same university she teaches at. It’s bittersweet and funny and hopeful.
Can’t stop reading Canadian fiction. Gulped down What We Found Instead by Heidi Reimer, which is another Northern lakes setting but about an unexpected friendship between two girlfriends of a disappointing man who discover each other’s existence and become entwined through tragic events. Next on my list is June Baby by Shannon Garvy – another coastal/island summer setting, about a girl discovering secrets about the women who raised her.
Recently found out that Korean folk tales never started with ‘once upon a time’, but instead a phrase that loosely translates to “back when tigers used to smoke”. During the Joseon period, tigers roamed the Korean peninsula, and were considered an important cultural symbol, as well as a distinct and versatile creature to base a story around (being either heroes, predators, spirits or guardians).
I’m saving this Talk Easy episode with Greta Lee. Particularly excited to hear her talk about Past Lives.
For anyone who’s read Yesteryear, or is interested in the tradwife discourse from an outside POV, I enjoyed this profile on Caro Claire Burke by Rachel Syme for the New Yorker, which shed some light on her writing process and thoughts on the subject matter!
If there is a piece of content on being a single woman in your 30s, you know I’m consuming it. This New York Magazine piece about a luxury matchmaking service is doing the rounds.
I took a misty morning walk on the beach listening to my latest playlist and it really really hit. Also good for moody ferry rides, wistfully staring out of the passenger seat window, or lying under the stars. Specifically Ruby Gill’s Some Kind of Control.
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