My heart, body and mind are happy to be home but I’m still adjusting.

After six months of packing my suitcase, counting every penny and putting all of my focus on a city, I find I’m desperate just to breathe a little.

I’m slowly re-acquainting myself with Vancouver, the people here and my own thoughts and dreams.

I find myself cooking and baking like crazy, and that the best way to re-connect is over a hot meal and a glass of wine.  It is so simple but so important.

I love the way a good dinner can transform a room and those in it.  When I can cook for people, pour them a glass of wine, and watch them enjoy all of the things that make this life worth living…I feel like myself.  Part of me feels like I was born to encourage taking pleasure in life.

Growing up, I remember the home coming alive when people would come for dinner.  The white linen table cloth would come out, candles would be lit, gorgeous food would sit up on the kitchen counter to nibble at and my mother would smell of Opium perfume, her long eyelashes coated with mascara and her dress floating down to the ground.

So slowly, as I get comfortable, I am inviting friends for dinner, setting the table and setting the tone for my life here.

I continue to do job interviews, and struggle with the idea of someone not wanting to hire me.  As confident as I am, there are moments when I ask myself if I’m good enough.

But what is good enough?  Every day I am true to myself.  I am honest.  I try to make those around me smile.  That, sometimes, is more than good enough.

Tonight my friend came over after a day training at pastry school with a chocolate ganache cake and a lemon tart.  He is following his dreams and I couldn’t be more proud.

I made a big pot of chili and we threw around ideas of starting our own business.  We may even get to be a part of a farmer’s market this summer.  He gets excited over food in the same way I do and wants to bring people back to the basics with baking.

Dinner was nothing fancy, but like me, it was honest, hearty and a little bit spicy.

And like me, it was good enough, and it will be even better tomorrow.

Cornbread muffins



Cornbread with herb butter


Big pot of vegetable rich chili

Appetizers

My friend and his beautiful cake

Once again my suitcase is packed.

When people ask if it’s hard to leave I say no.  I’ve done it many times before and I know that I’ll be back.

But I will miss the loving family who embraced me and took care of me when I needed it the most.

Last night my mom and I sat in the Turkish restaurant with the family and ate a feast of roasted fish and vegetables made by Leyla, the mother.

I bought wine for those who wanted to drink, a friend stopped by, and I danced and sang home in the street with Yeliz, our mothers laughing behind us.

I am relieved to be going home.  My heart aches from being away from my boyfriend, my body aches from lugging suitcases and my mind aches from the stress of constantly moving.

But I’ll miss these people.  They are more impressive than the Eiffel Tower, sweeter than the best macarons and warmer than a freshly baked croissant.

I won’t miss French food as much as I’ll miss the hot falafel, smooth hummus and rice wrapped in vine leaves from their restaurant.

The past few days we’ve been sharing an oven baked shredded Turkish pastry with pistachio filling in thick syrup.  It is pure comfort food, even with my Irish roots, and one slice is never enough.

My mom stayed with me in the apartment the last couple of nights.  It was nice to have her there, staying up late and talking with the family in the living room.

Last night we shared a bed and I wrapped my arms around her warmth, knowing I’ll miss her too when I’m in Canada and she’s here in France.

I took her to the train station early this morning and held my breath as I watched her blonde head dissapear into the crowds.  I’ll see her in a month, but I always feel her absence when we’re apart.

It’s a sad but sweet goodbye to Paris.  I am ready to go home more than anything, and take comfort in knowing there will always be a home for me here when I visit.

Leyla and my mother enjoying dessert and tea

Drinking Turkish tea at the restaurant with Leyla

Digging into some of my favourite food!

At home with Yeliz