The Real Canadian Butter Chicken Rant

When I was about 18 years old I received a letter from the grocery store. It was in response to a card I had filled out for their comments box, in which I said I was disappointed that they had increased the price of chocolate dipped donuts from 3/$1 to nearly 50 cents apiece. The price increase had pushed the combined cost of a donut and a litre of chocolate milk to more than two dollars, requiring me to break a $5 bill to make my favourite purchase. In response to my comment, the store manager sent me a letter explaining the economic concepts of supply and demand, somehow trying to blame the market at large for this unfortunate turn of events. In a way, he was right -- at the higher price I consumed fewer donuts.

I had hoped for a more lucrative response, like the time I left a comment for the wave pool management. I noted that it was a very long walk down a very cold corridor to get from the boys change room to the pool deck. I suggested that they think about heating the corridor. I think I was 10 years old at the time. To their credit, the pool managers sent me more than just a patronizing letter about the demand for hot air -- they also enclosed a pass for a free family visit to the pool. Although I didn't use the pass myself (my oldest brother used it to take a date to the pool, along with my 7-year-old youngest brother... quite the date, I'm sure), I appreciated the gesture.

Now I'm considering writing another letter to the grocery store. It's the same store as the donut incident -- "The Real Canadian Superstore" at 5251 Country Hills Boulevard in NW Calgary. I have always thought that was the strangest name for a grocery store; however, it is much more descriptive than the name of the company's stores that appear in Eastern Canada: "Loblaws". I remember when we moved to Ottawa, we kept seeing all these buildings with "Loblaws" written on the side, but we had no idea what a Loblaw was. Apparently, a Loblaw is a grocer, since the stores invariably sell groceries. A Loblaw is not to be confused with a similar species of Ontario grocer called a "Loeb". I digress.

I want to write to The Real Canadian Superstore because they are always out of President's Choice Butter Chicken Cooking Sauce (PCBCCS). After eating at a few Indian buffets I fell in love with butter chicken (served with rice and naan bread); however, R didn't always feel up for the trip to my favourite Ottawa buffet (Moni Mahal at 164 Laurier Ave). Luckily, R's sister introduced us to a simple alternative: The PCBCCS. We could enjoy the rich goodness of this mild curry dish from the comfort of our own home. It was as simple as buying a jar from the local Loblaws.

Unfortunately, that is not as simple as it sounds.

Our Ottawa store carried several PC-brand Indian cooking sauces, but the PCBCCS was always low in stock, and often ran out completely. A popular item, I guess. This was just a minor inconvenience until we moved to Calgary, where the "Real Canadian Superstore" managers long ago surrendered to the forces of supply and demand. We normally buy our groceries at the nearby Safeway (what a pitifully short name), but we sometimes make the trip up to Superstore for PC brand items like butter chicken. Since August we had never found any butter chicken on the shelf, until this week (we've tried Patak's and it just doesn't compare to PCBCCS).

When it finally came in, R bought 4 jars. You basically have to hoard the stuff if you want any.

I think a fairly short comment to management would make my point: "Stock more butter chicken, you ninnies!" I'll mull it over and decide whether I should include a patronizing explanation of the economics of inventory stocking that I learned in my Operations Management 601 class this semester. I could perhaps photocopy the pages from the text book or print a few powerpoint slides for them with formulas about how to formulate a proper stocking strategy and avoid stockouts.

Aside from the general satisfaction I would get from venting my frustrations, I would hope to receive two benefits by writing such a letter:

1. More butter chicken on stores shelves, so people don't have to start looking on ebay;

2. A coupon for a free donut and chocolate milk.

Calgary vs. Ottawa

[If you have reached this page because you wanted to know how long it takes to move from Ottawa to Calgary, I can tell you that it is 3500 km (2100 miles) if you drive on the Canadian side the whole time, which is what we did when we moved in August 2008. We documented the trip in a series of posts, which can be found here. Our total travel time was 46 hours, driving in a moving truck at about 100 km/h and stopping regularly to change baby diapers.]

We've been in Calgary for two weeks now, and in that time I've noticed a few major differences between the two cities. Instead of construction updates, we'll start with a city comparison.

1. Driving Speed
Every place I've ever lived, people always claim that the local drivers are the worst ever. This is not the case in Calgary, that's for sure. Here, everybody drives EXACTLY the speed limit. It's quite a change from Ottawa, where everyone drives 20 km/h above the speed limit as a general rule. I think the difference is enforcement. The Ottawa Police hardly spend any time running speed traps, and they don't use photo radar. Photo radar is quite widely used in Calgary, and people have slowed down as a result. With everyone driving the same speed, they end up traveling in tight formations from one traffic light to the next. It's almost eerie.

2. Temperature
It could totally be a fluke, but we've noticed a significant drop in temperature between Ottawa and Calgary. This is a good thing, because the car that we bought here doesn't have a/c.

3. Tim Horton's
In Ottawa (as well as most of Ontario), each street corner is marked clearly with a street sign and a Tim Horton's coffee and donut shop. In Calgary, so far I've only seen one Tim Horton's shop that I can think of.

4. Help Wanted
In Calgary, every place of business has a "Now Hiring" sign out front, as companies struggle through the labour shortage caused by the tremendous economic boom taking place in the province of Alberta. This shortage can also translate into service problems inside the stores. For example, we went to a recently-opened Home Depot near here and there was one guy running about a quarter of the store. We needed help with plumbing and this guy was there. When we needed some wire cut, it was the same guy. Unfortunately, he was so busy in plumbing that he took 15 minutes to come and cut the wire.


Scott is adapting to the changes admirably. His sleep has been thrown off a bit, and we're finding that some nights he wakes up more frequently than before. We've discovered that he giggles the most if you tickle his ribs while his shirt is off for a diaper change. He still chokes on his laughs a bit, but he doesn't slip into hiccups every time like he used to.

Reflective Motorcycle Poses From Quebec

It seems like we say good-bye to somebody each day. Today we saw some close church friends for the last time before we leave, because they'll be gone out of town this week. Since it was our last chance to see it, we finally went up to the lake in Val-des-Bois where E and J have purchased property and will soon be building a cottage. It's a perfectly secluded little spot and it's absolutely beautiful.


Since it was a Sunday and we didn't want to get too rowdy, we just enjoyed the water from the shore, dipping in a toe or two here and there -- except for E, who ended up soaked after running out into the water to pull out his 2-year-old son, who had waded in too deep looking for frogs.


The beautiful surroundings afforded an opportunity for reading or quiet reflection. In this case, my brother T did a good job of posing like a reflective reader. This whole shot is staged.

No commentary needed here.

It was sad to drive away and think that could be the last time we ever see some of these friends of ours. I imagine we'll come back through Ottawa someday. We love this place too much not to come back and show Scott he city of his birth.


Speaking of Scott, he's learned a new skill the last day or two. He sticks both arms straight up in the air like he's riding a motorcycle. This evening he did it over and over again for nearly ten minutes. We think it's his way of saying that he wants us to pull him up into a sitting position. If we do pull him up, he stops doing it and looks around with his huge, bright eyes.


Although he doesn't say much, we're sure that there's a lot of activity going on behind those eyes, as he takes in all the world around him. His uncle T has been really helpful in jump-starting his education with little things like reading to him from an Ayn Rand book that we found on the bookshelf while we were packing everything up.

Adventure Tourism Among The Wrecks

Apparently, you get McDonald's breakfast if you stay overnight in jail here in Ottawa. This is something I learned last night. I also learned that you need to take the drive-shaft off of a big a truck in order to tow it away. You can learn a lot of interesting things if you spend some time at a tow yard.

Yesterday afternoon I went over to the church to get the ownership papers out of our recently-purchased moving truck so that I could get a new temporary permit to take it down to a mechanic for an oil change and a quick inspection. The truck had been parked in the back of the church parking lot since we got the parking ticket for leaving it on the street overnight 10 days ago.

When I pulled into the lot, the truck wasn't there.

I knew right away that it had been towed, since there had been some confusion about the truck when I had parked it there for a few nights earlier in the month -- it looks more like a stray Torontonian supply truck than a moving truck, so people thought it looked suspicious. When I brought it back last week, I cleared it with a guy who helps take care of the building, so I thought I was safe. Apparently not.

Luckily, I have some experience getting cars back from tow lots because a friend of mine (let's call him Ben) had his rental car towed away from our condo parking lot for failing to park in a visitor stall when he was back visiting from England a year or two ago. In that case, we had to go to the police station to get a release form, because the towing company won't give you the car unless you can clearly prove ownership or present the release form. We learned all about the process at about 3am, as we were forced to visit both the police station and the towing company twice each, ultimately paying upwards of $200 in fines and charges.

The only way for me to prove ownership was to get a new copy of the sale agreement faxed to me from the dealership, because all my papers were sitting in the glove compartment (note to self: keep vehicle ownership in a safe place in future). I found out that the Ottawa Police had called the electric supply company who had previously owned the vehicle, who had in turn called the dealership I bought it from, giving them an earful for selling a truck that still had their logo and phone number on the side. The dealership then gave me an earful. I kind of wish I knew who had the truck towed away, because my ears are full and I would like to unload them.

I treated my brother to the vacation of his life as we toured the police station waiting room and then took a road trip 25 km out of town to the tow yard in Carp. As tour guides, we try to show something new to every visitor.

While I was inside the little trailer/office waiting for them to run a $280 charge on my credit card (ouch), I could hear a lively discussion in the next room held by two or three men and a woman -- ostensibly tow truck drivers waiting for a call. One man had gotten back recently from an overnight stint in jail and was giving some tips based on his experience. He mentioned that the police provide McDonald's breakfast in the morning, and he sounded quite pleased with the whole thing. Another guy chimed in and said that you also get a McDonald's combo meal if you get booked early enough in the evening. He seemed to know a lot more about life in the clink, because he had spent several weeks behind bars at one time or another. In fact, he once told his family not to bail him out at all because he thought the living was so good inside.

I got very little indication what crimes or charges had earned them their Big Macs and McMuffins, except that one guy had turned himself in for a violation of his probation. Thankfully, I eventually got my paperwork back and was free to take the truck away.

That's when I learned my second big lesson of the night.

I found the truck in the far end of the lot and started it up without a problem. But when I put it in gear, it wouldn't move. Drive, Reverse, First -- nothing worked. I started to freak out. Because of some lame miscommunication my truck had been towed and ruined. I had visions of my life tearing apart at the seams. I jumped out of the truck and looked at the undercarriage. Even in the darkness I could tell that the drive-shaft was missing.

Then I found it lying on the ground.

I could not imagine what they did to the truck to cause the drive-shaft to tear off on both ends. I pictured them dropping the truck from six feet up into the yard. Insanity licked at the edges of my mind and I started muttering to myself in disbelief mingled with rage.

I approached one of the story-telling men, who was now standing outside the trailer/office. He held up his hand with a quick warning, "Don't come too close, there's a guard dog in here." From a safe distance, I began telling him that the drive-shaft seemed to have come off in the process of towing. He quickly cut me off and explained that they disconnect the drive train as a standard procedure when towing vehicles like mine. Unfortunately, because of liability issues, they could not put it back on -- I would need a licensed mechanic.

I was at once relieved and bewildered. How was I supposed to get a mechanic to come all the way out here -- in the middle of nowhere, really -- to reassemble my drive-shaft at 10pm? I had to leave the truck there for another night. They gave me the number of a mechanic's shop 3 km from the yard who might come by and do the work for me. Just add it to the bill for the evening, I guess.

I think if I didn't have a blog to publicly announce this great misfortune, I would probably self-destruct. Thank you readers everywhere.

Bye Bye BBQ

Amidst the tremendous excitement of moving across the country to take on new adventures, there is the sadness of leaving some part of your life behind. This weekend, some of the best RISK 2210 players in the city threw a BBQ to bid us farewell.


Coincidentally, many of these RISK 2210 players are also coworkers of mine.


Many of us started work at about the same time, mostly as recent university grads, so we've all been going through the same stages of life at roughly the same time. We happened to be the only ones at this event with any children...


... but there are several kids just waiting in the wings.


After a fine feast on burgers and smokies, they brought out the cake, which was decorated with that classic combination -- war elephants marching on the (chocolate) moon. The only thing missing was a helping of KFC gravy to wash it all down.


Upon closer inspection, you can see that there are many war elephants marching around on the cake as well as the moon. This reminds me of a poster that I once saw encouraging safe business practices. Actually, I made the poster and entered it into a competition at work. Surprisingly, I didn't win. I guess people just don't understand security the way these elephants do.


El Dubya and I proudly displayed our matching t-shirts, which were designed to commemorate that great day back in March when we (along with two of my brothers-in-law) played Settlers of Catan atop the Calgary Tower. This feat may not get us into the Guiness Record Book, but it did warrant a t-shirt.

There are a lot of wonderful friends, memories and inside jokes here in Ottawa. May we be like the war elephants and never forget them.

We've Been One-Upped

I thought we had a pretty good story to tell about how we plan to move -- until I heard about the way a couple from church are moving out to Victoria, BC (4800 km or 3000 miles). Instead of buying a house in BC, they've decided to build one in Ottawa and tow it all the way out there. They're building it on a trailer, and it's designed so that the walls fold out to make quite a decent-sized home. I had only heard about it, but now that they have a blog, I can better understand what it's going to look like. You should check out their Folding Home Blog.

The Changing Of The Guard

Last Friday I took about 70 pictures. The top ten or so are included here. Most of the day was spent on Parliament Hill, followed by an evening trip to Mooney's Bay (just down the street from our house). Because it was our neice's 3rd birthday, we finished off the day with a bit of blueberry crumble. From the pictures, the day would seem idyllic; however, we'd filled the agenda with too much scenery and not enough activity. As a result, our guests spent much of the time entertaining their young daughter, who was not particularly enthralled with neo-gothic limestone architecture. We learned some valuable lessons about planning family expeditions that day.


We started out with something new that we'd never tried before: The Changing of the Guard. It takes place each morning during the summer months, and includes a military procession along 4 or 5 blocks of downtown Ottawa to the front lawn on Parliament Hill. We set up position on Elgin Street, near the National War Memorial to wait for the procession to go by. During the summer, the Ceremonial Guard also maintains two sentries at the memorial, which provided for some good photographs.


I was surprised at the size of the contingent of uniformed guards that came marching up the street past us. I did not expect to see three divisions plus a full marching band. It was quite impressive, and we had a wonderful view.


We followed them up to the Hill, where a large crowd had already gathered to watch. From then on, our view was more obstructed, and much further away.


Once on the lawns, the guards went through a lengthy series of formations and inspections. Although it was a novel sight, there was very little movement compared to the marching, and the interest level in our group (at all age levels) began to wane. We'd already gotten our tickets for the Parliamentary tour, but those didn't start for another hour, so we had to wait. If I had it to do over again, I would get the tour tickets for 10:30, which is when the ceremony is just wrapping up. That way, you can go directly from one event to the other.


Eventually, we did make it into the Parliament Buildings for the tour. Scott was fairly happy to be there, until we got into the Senate Chamber. Then he started screaming bloody murder and I missed most of the action that followed. The ride up the elevator to the top of the Peace Tower was the big climax, but little Alli was too scared of the height to spend much time looking out the windows. It was a busy day on the hill with a lot of tourists, so everything was a little slower.

TIP: If the only tickets you can get for a Parliamentary Tour are an hour or more away, you can spend your time going up the Peace Tower beforehand. Most people wait until the end of their tour, but you can go up any time.


A long morning filled with soldiers and tours deserves a treat. We made our traditional stop in the Byward Market for a Beaver Tail, a fried dough pastry that has become a bit of a local delicacy. Apparently, The Market can claim status as Canada's oldest continuously-operating farmer's market. It's located in the oldest part of Ottawa, which was called Bytown until becoming the capital in 1857. The Beaver Tails are more of a gimmick than a historic food, but they are still kind of fun. While the girls played it safe with the cinnamon-sugar-lemon-juice variety, Luke and I went big with these monsters, loaded with chocolate, peanut butter, cream cheese and other nutritious substances.


Following a bit of recovery time (you need it after all that cream cheese), we took the group out to the beach at Mooney's Bay. Finally, we found something that appealed to the young mind. With the sun dropping low in the sky, there were plenty of opportunities for prime photographs while Alli enjoyed playing in the sand and her younger brother enjoyed eating the sand.



Scott didn't eat any sand on this day, being quite content to simply relax in his trademark camouflage boonie hat with his lovely mother.



I think I took 30 photographs like this one. I loved the effect as the shimmering sunlight turned figures into silouettes.


We staged this memorable moment, which I have preserved as a banner.


No birthday is complete without candles and some kind of cake or pie. We loaded the blueberry crumble with ice cream and strawberries (it seems we had strawberries at every meal), but the birthday girl opted to eat the toppings and leave most of the crumble. Hey, it's her party.

Full-Time Tourism

When you are working hard at being a tourist, you generate a lot of pictures, but not as many blog postings. Over the past three days, as we've hosted my brother and sister-in-law here in Ottawa, I have taken more than 150 pictures. Unfortunately, our ambitious tourism schedule has left little time for blogging. It is now time to bring things back into balance.


We planned a long list of activities and sights to show our visitors, but we probably had the best results on Thursday. This success was mainly because our plans appealed to that most discerning of demographics -- 3-year-olds. Our little niece Alli turned 3 this week, and she loves strawberries.



We took the group out south of town to pick strawberries in the morning, and it didn't take us long to fill four baskets and stain our tongues with juicy red fruit. Picking berries isn't a regular activity for us, but we've wanted to do it again ever since we went out with two of our friends (Eric & Jen) back in 2002. You don't really find berry farms like these out in Alberta, so this was a neat experience for all.

We always take visitors on a driving tour to highlight some of the best sights in the capital. This always includes a loop past the Museum of Civilization on the Quebec side of the river, over in Gatineau. From the museum grounds you can take some fantastic pictures of Parliament Hill and downtown Ottawa. On Thursdays the museum has free admission from 5pm to 9pm, so we stopped in for a few hours instead of just driving by.

In previous visits to the museum, we'd taken in such special exhibits as "The Mysterious Bog People" and the Dead Sea Scrolls, but we'd never noticed the Children's Museum section on the 2nd floor. Perhaps it was because we'd never gone to the museum with children. You see, kids aren't that interested in Bog People, or Sea Scrolls, regardless how Dead or Mysterious they might be. On the other hand, kids are quite interested in international villages constructed to 1/4 scale, shiny buses from Pakistan and kid-sized cargo ships with real operating cranes.


It was total mayhem in there, but it was entirely kid-proof and absolutely enormous, so the mayhem was very civilized. The only incident we caused where they had to get security involved was when little Alli froze at the top of a long escalator and wouldn't come down. She eventually capitulated.


When you are out about town and you need a quick meal, you needn't look far to find a source of shawarma. If you haven't had shawarma before, it's very much like donair/döner or Greek gyros. In fact, they are so similar that I have no idea what the differences are. Regardless what the definition is, there is shawarma a-plenty in this town.

We grabbed some shawarma on Dalhousie Street and headed off to the front lawn of Parliament Hill to watch the "Light and Sound Show", a 30-minute dose of patriotism which is projected onto the front of the Centre Block of Parliament. It's something that every Canadian should get to see. Since it runs every evening at 9:30 and 10:30, a large number will get to see it this year.

It was quite a busy day, quite a tiring day, but quite a wonderful day in the capital.

I've got plenty more material like this, because we kept this pace going for three straight days -- three straight days with three children under the age of three.

More posts coming.

Two Sides Of The Guides

R's sister J arrived last night with her son, while her husband (L) is scheduled to arrive late this evening with their daughter (I will be employing my secret parking strategy to pick them up). Now the birthday week is in full swing and we will do our best to show them everything the Ottawa area has to offer in the few days they are here.

We got off to a bit of rocky start this afternoon, as we delved into unfamiliar territory in rainy conditions. We decided to save Parliament Hill for another day, and went out to see the Supreme Court building and the Currency Museum -- tourist destinations that we'd never visited before. The two were opposite extremes of the guide spectrum. They under-guided us at the courthouse, and they over-guided us at the Currency Museum.

Although the Supreme Court is a hulking mass of a building, the tour covers only two rooms: the lobby and the courtroom itself. Our law-student tour guide had us sit on benches in the back of the surprisingly small (but elegant) courtroom while he explained the workings of the court. It took him about 10 minutes, maybe 15. It took us almost that long just to get the monstrous double stroller and carseats through the security scanner.

The lobby was impressively large, rising the full height of the front of the building. We were in the lobby only briefly, because the guide offered to let us out through the back door (actually a garage door), as a way to avoid taking our caravan back down the steep stone stairs in front of the building. As it turns out, we got an exclusive look at the Supreme Garage, which opens up into the parking lot. Very few people get to see this part of the building.

The view from behind the Supreme Court building is spectacular, and usually is part of any driving tour that we conduct for visitors to Ottawa. You can pull your car right up to an observation point that looks out over the Ottawa River, and provides a striking view of the Library of Parliament -- our favourite piece of local architecture. Any visitor to the Supreme Court should not miss the view.

Since our visit took less than 30 minutes, we still had time to catch the last English tour of the day at the Currency Museum, located just across the street from the Supreme Court, in the bottom of the Bank of Canada building. The museum is quite small, composed of only 7 small gallery rooms, but the tour took most of an hour -- and we only visited 3 of the rooms! The guide was so enthusiastic about his subject material, he kept us at the front desk for the first 15 minutes before we even saw a display. He knew his stuff, but he was one long-winded dude. Once he set us free, I found these tokens from Calgary and Ottawa in one of the displays. One gets you bread, the other gets you beer. I thought they were amusing.

After the lengthy lectures about using beaver pelts and compressed tea leaves as currency, we were pretty worn out, but J managed to find this sweet interactive display about counterfeit bills. She spotted the phony $20 bill, but she totally missed the mark on the $100. Better luck next time!

The consensus of the group was this:
-The Supreme Court is worth visiting, especially since it's a quick, free tour of a large and elegant building on a scenic spot.
-The Currency Museum is also free.

Meat And More Canada Day

I found a few more photographs that need to be included in the Canada Day section of this blog. There are some from Saturday, Sunday and Today. Keep a sharp eye out for Scott in his Sunday best. You might not recognize him on first glance, since he can easily be mistaken for a 1920s dandy.

SATURDAY

SUNDAY

TODAY

The last pictures were taken at Nate's Deli, which has been serving enormous smoked meat sandwiches in Ottawa for 47 years. We'd read about the place in our "Secret Ottawa" book, but we never got around to it until now. Check out the size of the cheese curds in that poutine. The food was so great, even Scott was thrilled.