Author: cpgrisold

Dear Aline Brosh McKenna, I implore you, please stop trying to be funny. Just because a few randoms in the audience laugh at your “jokes” does not make you a comedienne. Instead, please go back to 2006 when you wrote the screenplay for The Devil Wears Prada and made an otherwise horrible book seem magical and wonderful and makeover and new shoes in the way only a chick-flick can.

Wha’happen?

Sincerely,
Your friendly neighbourhood hobo

“Morning Glory” dir: Roger Michell

This past Tuesday, my friend J and I decided to attend cheapie movie night (yay! only semi-ridiculous prices!) at Scotiabank Theatre to see this happy little film that we hoped would motivate and inspire us to believe that hope exists out there for depressed career-girls everywhere. Instead, much like the surprise monsoon that greeted us at the exit, we left thinking What The F!?

With the premise of an upstart television producer (Rachel McAdams) accepting the challenge of reviving a struggling morning show, it was clear from the start that the SHOW was the GIRL, and their struggles were ONE AND THE SAME. Rachel McAdams played Becky Fuller well enough. I mean, we did go to York University at the same time so I will always have a niche in my heart reserved for her (although she majored in Theatre at Keele, and I was in English at Glendon, and we didn’t actually cross paths, this is beside the point). She’s cute, she’s approachable, she’s believable, she’s the Anne Hathaway of what was billed as the next career-girl feel-good. I mean, I can see what Rach (we share an Alma Mater, so there’s no need for formalities here) saw in the screenplay. But Jeff Goldblum should have known better. Maybe he missed a few too many Visa payments, and had to get cash fast. Or maybe he only read his “hard-nosed, pessimistic, newsy-type” character’s lines and cast a blind eye to the rest of the script. Who knows.

More appropriately, and probably more affordably, Patrick Wilson played Becky’s love interest Adam Bennett. You may remember Patrick from such films as nothing before this, and most likely nothing afterwards. Becky and Adam’s relationship escalates quickly at the start of the film, with no real backstory except that HE’S OUTTA HER LEAGUE yet falls for her quirky, clutzy ways. But he’s rich! He rows crew! He sits in the local diner eating fries and laughing with his rich friends while Becky gazes longingly (and somewhat creepily) at their reflections in a mirror. Yet, somehow, this plucky producer gets her man.

I guess we can all thank Carrie Bradshaw for enhancing the appeal of the endearing, yet fallible, leading lady.

“Hey, youuuu guuuyyys!”

But can the wardrobe director please explain to me why a workaholic TV producer, who doesn’t date or leave the office or even make much money, wears Louboutin stilettos every day? Oh and when her conservative skirt suit comes off, why there exists sexy lingerie underneath? I don’t know about you, but when I worked in TV, the producers were mainly googly-eyed, overweight, social-outcast types. The kind that most likely buys their Hanes at the Big Z.

Parallel to the growing love between Becky and Adam, there’s the anti-love (I’ve decided that is a word) of bantering co-hosts Colleen and Mike. The relationship between these Morning Glories is a little too “Something’s Gotta Give” for me. Substitute Harrison Ford for Jack Nicholson, and move the studio to a Hamptons beach-house, et voila. Either that or the real-life version of Quahog’s Tom and Diane on “Family Guy.” Oh, and since when does Diane Keaton allow that many wrinkles to show through her makeup?

I will admit, however, that if you have worked in TV you might find some parts of this film interesting. Breaking down the fourth wall, seeing some supporting actor pushing around a camera JUST LIKE YOU, or sitting up in Master Control yelling CHANGE THE FONT! UPDATE YOUR SCREEN! WHERE THE HELL IS THE CHYRON GUY!? (Probably eating donuts at the Kraft Services table.) Or the scenes where young Becky spices up the show by placing a small, old man in various hilarious situations (such as skydiving or riding a rollercoaster) that result in repeated expletives pouring from his mouth. The F-WORD on TV is always funny!

Oh, and their TV station is called IBS. J and I are sure that was intentional, although no one brings any attention to it in the film. I say what better name for a shitty station than IBS? Ha!

And am I the only one who saw an allusion to magazine editor-zombie Bonnie Fuller in Becky’s name? The Joys of Much Too Much, much? But unlike that real-life workaholic’s handbook, “Morning Glory” (and “Devil/Prada” too) makes sure to remind girls who put their careers first that they will LOSE EVERYTHING (everything being, of course, their men). Priorities, ladies!

Um… that about sums it up.

The best line of the movie: “I didn’t think anything came between you and a sausage.” HEYYY!

Toods,
x

Ps. I don’t mean to alarm you, but apparently the ban on Ginger leading men has been lifted…

Roastie Butnut Soup! Yay!
You will need:

2 – pears
1 – apple
1 – butnut squash, roasted (duh)
3 slices of bacon (yum)
3 – carrots
1 – sweet Vadalia onion
1 – cup of milk (I used Goat’s Milk but I’m sure Cow would suffice)
1 – bouquet garni of fresh sage, thyme, rosemary and a cinnamon stick

Fry the bacon in the bottom of the slow cooker (chopped into tiny bits). Corsely chop everything else up, and add to the cooker once bacon is browned. Cover with water. Submerge bouquet garni (herbs tied up in cheese cloth) under the liquid. Boil away on high for a few hours, then switch to low. (I usually leave on low overnight, but this makes the liquid completely disappear, so I suggest no more than 4hrs.)

Add milk at end, and sea salt to taste (I add loads cause I’m a sea salt addict).

Then whiz it all up with a hand-whizzer.

Serve with a dollop of sour cream, labne, or creme fraiche on top.

Enjoy,
x

Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus. He exists on the doorsteps of men and women in Toronto, carrying a blue Rubbermaid tub, and is driven there by a team of volunteers. He doesn’t work at the North Pole; rather, his hub is in South Etobicoke. His workshop: a warehouse. Dirt under every nail.

I get my fruits ‘n’ veggies delivered biweekly from Front Door Organics. Their basic “Good Food Box” costs $37 and contains an array of organic foods to satisfy any palate. Being a vegetarian at heart, who just happens to be addicted to pork, I love all fruits and veg. So, FDO can do no wrong in my book. My only problem is finishing everything before it goes bad. Because of the organics-ness of the products, they don’t last as long as the waxy version I could purchase at my local Bloor West No Frills. This is not always a bad thing, as it forces me to cook proper food. I have made soups, chillis, stir frys, stews, fish-n-chips (pollack-n-organic fingerling potatoes to be exact), pad thai… the list goes on.

Here’s a look at my latest Good Food Box:

Acorn Squash, Red Potatoes, Carrots, Red Cabbage, MacIntosh Apples, Kale, and Shiitake Mushrooms (all from Ontario). Non-local produce include: Grapefruit, Valencia Oranges, Zucchini, Avocado, Plums, Kiwis, and Boston Lettuce (my fav of the lettuces, so soft and buttery!).

I have already planned to make mashed potatoes with shredded kale. Am considering a curried cabbage concoction of sorts. I have to roast the cauliflower that’s in my fridge from my last delivery. Cauliflower, unfortunately, is my least favourite vegetable. But I do like it roasted in a Lebanese style, and I have my trusty Middle Eastern Cookbook (by Maria Khalife) on hand to provide some inspiration (I never follow recipes, but use them as a jumping-off point for my own inventions!)… However, I have just searched quickly through the book and there’s nary a cauliflower in sight! Not good. So, instead, at some point this week, I will attempt “Cauliflower Bhajis” which I have discovered in Cooking With Vegetables by Joanne Glynn. Basically a flour-battered cauli with cumin, cayenne, and coriander. Mm, Mm, and Mm! Cumin and coriander are of course my favourite spice/herb flavours.

A couple weeks ago I made a cabbage soup from my Good Food Box. This was a take on the “Cabbage Soup Diet” that claims to help you lose a pound a day as long as it’s all you eat. I love the soup, but I can’t enjoy it sans a huge chunk of crusty bread, slathered in unsalted butter.

I made a roasted butternut squash soup that week too. Didn’t take any photos of it, but I’m eating some of the leftovers tonight for dinner. You can find my recipe here. I froze 1-2 servings in a Ziplock bag and laid it flat in my freezer for optimum space-saving ability. (My freezer is full of homemade foods that I can’t seem to finish on my own. I keep dropping off little parcels to my across-the-hall neighbours. They are young and on their own, and I’m sure they don’t bake muffins or slow-cook homemade stews, so I figure I’m paying it forward. I guess that makes me their Santa!)

Toods,
x

Nonetheless, I just love taking photos of my cute meals, and the cutest of course are the ones involving eggs. Today I had two hard-boiled (but still warm) eggs from a farm outside Milton, Ontario, atop a bed of organic spinach sauteed in cinnamon-butter. For the sauce, a hobo bearnaise (sans terragon) made with mayonaise, creamy dill mustard, a splash of white balsamic vinegar, and a couple drops of Worcestershire. Steeping in my oversized mug is Whittard of Chelsea’s loose-leaf peach-flavoured black tea.

But honestly, I swear I do more than brunch. It’s only that I work from home, so I have access to a fully-stocked fridge, a proper stove, and unsupervised breaks. Today I am working on a copywriting project – an advertising campaign for a Canadian plastic parts distributor. You know you love advertising when you get excited about creating a brand for a plastic parts distributor! I think I have some good ideas for this project, and maybe some future ones if they like my suggestions.

Before I started work this morning (my business hours are 10am-6pm), I went for a brisk walk/stumbling jog around High Park and took a photo of my tree. On my way across the street to the Park, I brought a box of cupcakes to the construction workers who have been repairing the waterline along Bloor West since I moved in this September. They were leftovers from my birthday party on Saturday that my Mom made. She freelances in cupcakes with her own business, PattiCakes. Here’s what she made me:

Black Forest, Butter Pecan with Turtle topping, and Coconut flavours. I put little bombs on the Black Forest cupcakes (cherry bombs lol) and presented them sparkling away on a smaller cupcake tree as my birthday cake. Delightful!

Now, back to work for me :o)

Toods,
x

It was my birthday on 13 November, and one of my b-day resolutions is to blog regularly. Et voila, here is Coco Hobo: The Blog. I already have been active on Coco Hobo: The Twitter Feed, so maybe the segue to longform online writing will be quick and painless. Nonetheless, I don’t really have anything exciting to say today, except that I made a delicious brunch that I shall share with you:

Two poached eggs on a bed of arugula, with hobo hollandaise (a.k.a. Thousand Island dressing, I kid you not, it’s so versatile!) and ruby red grapefruit slices. And yes, that is a Starbucks sippy cup of water. Leftovers from my walk in High Park yesterday.

Speaking of High Park, because I just can’t do things the easy way, I am starting two blogs simultaneously: this, and “TreeSixtyFive” a diary in the life of a tree. Basically photographing the seasonal transformation of my favourite tree in High Park. [Note to Self: find out what species said tree be!]

You can find my tree blog here.

Also, I am beginning research on a website dedicated to beer, thirstybeaver.ca, which should be up and running by the end of the year! :o) The Beave is a subsidary of my communications agency, Innings Gate Co., and I am as excited to create it as I hope its viewers will be to read it!

Well, until next time.

Toods,
x