Shotshell.
I’ve been looking for a key fob for the ride for quite a while now and I finally settled on this one from Orvis. It’s even nicer than I expected in person, and the monogram option adds a ‘lil class. Best part?… It’s on sale. Speaking of the Ford Flex… Oooof. Speaking of shotguns…
I’m Only Happy When It Rains.
I’m a big fan of Reisenthel; I’ve mentioned them before. The first of their products that I purchased was their carrybag. It wasn’t exactly cheap (about $90 CDN), but it has paid for itself many times over and is essentially indestructible. I use it all the time for quick market runs and loading up on juice.
So armed with the insoluble impression that Reisenthel couldn’t make a bad product, I picked up one of their umbrellas about three years ago. True to form, it was the best one I have owned to date. More often than not, I find that umbrellas are (for the most part) disposable. Poorly made (cheap mechanisms on the telescopic ones) and guaranteed to survive a maximum 2-3 gusts of wind before losing their shape and/or function entirely… and this means, a couple dozen uses before finding its way to the landfill.
Not so with the Reisenthel; The unique square shape seems to defy strong winds and the ribs of the canopy snap obediently back into place with little effort. The bonus of being priced at around $35 a pop means that you can keep a few of these bad boys handy in a stand for dinner/house guests stranded in a downpour without breaking the bank. I’d love to say the same about my dream umbrella, but Economics 101 would dictate otherwise… at least for now. I lost my Reisenthel about 9 months ago after dinner; leaving it at the restaurant meant my loss was someone else’s gain. I’ve had a hell of a time trying to find a new one despite locating a few online vendors in the states and in Europe, but recently they have shown up again at Au Printemps for those of you in Montreal that are interested.
The Proof is in The Packaging: J.R. Watkins Apothecary.
It’s been a while since I last posted for TPIITP, so my apologies for my temporary disappearance. I intend to make up for it this week with a few posts – mostly regarding grooming products. This past summer I was up in Northern Michigan and we closed out what was an exceptional week at the lake with an amazing dinner at La Bécasse. I posted about it here. There were many memorable things about that evening, and one of them – and yes I realize this may sound ridiculous – was the discovery of a lemon hand soap in the mens room. I was at first captured by the packaging: J.R. Watkins is designed clearly in homage to apothecary, pharmacy and general store sundries from the turn of the century, and with the obvious exception of opting for plastic containers in lieu of what would undoubtedly have been glass in 1910, the look and feel of the product is spot-on. They should know, they have been in business since 1868.
A rock solid sans-serif display type married eloquently with custom script lettering and a charming typewriter treatment on the inner label’s descriptive cells result in a very well balanced composition. It reminded me of this which I also adore. Swashes and flourishes are kept to a minimum as is the colour palette, resulting in a highly legible result given the amount of information to organize.
What’s more, I discovered online that their product offering – in addition to being broad in scope – is entirely natural and certified by the Natural Products Association. It’s nice to see manufacturers following through on their image across the board by presenting great-looking product that is good for us and for big mama.
Lastly, and this is a detail unique to my neck of the woods, bilingual labels mean they have Canadian distro that includes Quebec. So many manufacturers defer the expense of printing special labels as they deem the market here unworthy of the cost and the hassle and I can’t half blame them; we are a maitre chez nous-y bunch in la belle province. Thankfully, J.R. Watkins sees the potential and – as a result – I have to look no further for this exceptional product than the shelves of my local pharmacy.
A Few of My Favourite Things.
With cold weather officially here, I’ve had the pleasure of pulling out some old classics to keep things toasty for the upcoming months. There’s nothing like the rigours of winter to make you appreciate great finds that continue to amaze in terms of function, wearability and return on investment.
1) Vintage Cap from Hanna Hats: I’m a cap kinda guy and I just love this one for it’s rugged looks, warmth, comfort and character. I bought this 5 seasons ago along with an eight-piece newsboy and they just keep getting better and better. I realize the patchwork look isn’t for everyone, but – good news – they offer a wide range of solids in a selection of their Donegal tweeds. Pour yourself a dram and check out the process here.
2) Black Watch Merino wool scarf from Pendleton: This is actually a recent acquisition, but it’s been a good one thus far. No need to get into Pendleton’s quality, it’s a given that this wool is exceptional quality for the money. I remember seeing the Black Watch drill team, sword dancers and pipers perform years ago at the Montreal Forum (RIP); it was an amazing display from one of the most storied regiments in Canadian history. Their tartan is the same as the original Black Watch of the Royal Regiment of Scotland and has seen a recent surge in popularity with the trend back to Trad. I’ve always loved this plaid but can’t get my head around going whole hog or full monty with it. Happily, my good friends at Rooney had this in stock.
3) Ransom Wool Blend Workshirt: Basically this is the best lightweight winter jacket that I own. I start wearing this in early October and layer it straight through to Spring. 4 years later it’s still in great shape and Ransom continues to be one of the few brands that really get it when it comes to making affordable streetwear basics that are built to last and that are cut to fit real people. Now if only Woolrich would offer their classics in sizing that made sense…
4) The Ultimate Canadian Work Sock: If Paul has done for the Saint-James bonnet what Jay-Z did for the Yankees cap, then Justin and Alex have done more for the resurrection of this Great White Winter classic than monkeys have for the red-heel. I used to buy these in packs of 6 at the local surplus before heading off to Algonquin Park to slog it out on lakes and portages during the summer. These kept the dogs dry no matter what. Wigwam offers a tribute that come in an almost identical blend of fibres, but are – frankly – just not as good as the real thing eh? There are hundreds of variations and cheap copies out there, but the real McCoy’s can be found at Rooney and Schreter.
5) Nike Baltoro: My footwear selection has changed quite a bit in the past few years, but I still have love for the swoosh and these boots are sentimental favourites. I remember in ‘88 while most kids were losing their minds over Jordan III’s, I was drooling over my friend Chris’ Baltoros. He had the OG colorway and he absolutely murdered them over the course of a couple of summers at camp and they got better with every step in the mud, soak in the lake and sun-bleached hour drying out on lakeside rocks. I don’t tend to clown out in colourful shoes anymore, but I love these and they add a little cheer to the dreariness of February in Montreal.
Damascus Steel.
The aforementioned Kasumi knife that I received for Father’s Day. It’s putting in lots of work…
shot by Paul.
Double Dutch Bus.
I was initially kinda shocked, and then totally thrilled that Adam Rapoport wrote such a lovely ode to the german pancake (or popover, or “Dutch Baby”) in this year’s MOTY edition of Gentlemen’s Quarterly. I was introduced to my first Dutch Baby about 15 years ago in Michigan at the Original Pancake House in Southfield. Legend has it that this kind of pancake – and the establishment that first served them up in North America – has it’s humble beginnings in Seattle, Washington. The OPH was started in Portland, Oregon and now has over 100 franchises in the United States.
From my first bite I was positively hooked. It’s like the first time you eat a beignet: there’s no sane reason why you should be on a steady diet of this stuff, but GODDAMN they are delicious. Anyway, enough of my waxing gastronomic; I’ve tried out a few recipes online and they haven’t really worked out, but this recent one from GQ is the closest you’ll get to the real thing… with a couple of provisos.
For starters, the trick to making these is that it’s all about 1) the ingredients being at (or just below) room temperature, 2) the quality and – more importantly – the size of the cooking vessel, and 3) the amount of fat used to cook theses babies up.
The only beef that I have with the GQ recipe is the amount of butter suggested; it’s far too much and too much butter means more fat that pools on the batter as it’s trying to rise which more often than not creates a misshapen and unevenly cooked pancake. This one hiccup notwithstanding, the following proportions and guidelines will leave you with a breakfast you won’t soon forget and that you’ll be craving again and again.
DUTCH BABIES (makes one):
5o grams butter.
2 large eggs.
1/2 cup milk.
1/2 cup organic unbleached all-purpose flour.
1/4 teaspoon good quality salt.
1 teaspoon raw cane sugar.
Pinch of nutmeg or – even better – some powdered Madagascar vanilla.
Fresh lemon wedges.
Powdered sugar (Wholesome Sweetners makes an insane organic one).
Pre-heat your oven to 425ºF (220ºC). Beat eggs, milk, sugar and salt until uniform. Stir in flour and nutmeg – or vanilla – until the mixture is a smooth batter. Place butter in a 9″ or 10″ cast iron skillet (or a pyrex pie plate of equal diameter) and place in the oven. Leave for 3-4 minutes for the skillet to heat up and the butter to melt. Remove from the oven and pour in the batter. Replace in the oven on the center rack (you need some headspace as the pancake will rise considerably) and allow to cook for 18-2o minutes. Remove from oven, plate and dust with powdered sugar. Squeeze fresh lemon juice over the Dutch Baby and give ‘er hell.
Snoop ain’t got nothin’ on this.
Frankies’ Tomato Sauce.
This time of year, our weekends are pretty much consumed by preserving the end of summer bounty of fresh fruits and the best of the Quebec field tomatoes which – due to a lot of rain and some pretty phenomenal growing conditions – have been absolutely otherwordly this year. I love sauce. I also love pasta which means we end up using a lot of sauce over the course of the year. A lot of sauces can be frozen, but I like the magic that happens to the tomatoes (and whatever you add to them) once they get that final jolt of heat and are allowed to rest for a few months of quiet canned solitude in the cold cellar. I generally do a marinara and a pomarola for storage; bolognese generally gets made fresh and then frozen (if there’s any left). I have pretty much perfected a version of the marinara from here, and then I recently found this.
I had never heard of Frankie’s Spuntino but I was instantly drawn to this book at my local shop for the simple fact that the design set it apart from virtually every other book on the table. I love simplicity, I love history and I love illustration, and this book has been put together with a beautifully considered (and equal) measure of each. The Franks are tremendous storytellers and this book reads at times like non-fiction and at others like a memoir. However, it is first and foremost a cookbook and it’s a damn good one at that. I love the illustrations and, as a designer, I really appreciate that they devoted a whole page to throughly explain the symbology and significance of the restaurant’s logo: a tastefully and cleverly rendered coat-of-arms.
I decided to try their tomato sauce recipe first. It’s an essential for virtually everything that they do in the restaurant and I was intrigued to see how it would work out. My marinara sauce generally takes an hour and a half to cook, with seasoning happening at the midway point and at the end. This recipe calls for a four hour stewing of the tomatoes at a low simmer and the use of (hold your breath) 13 WHOLE cloves of garlic. That’s right. You read it correctly. I am never one to shy away from garlic, but I know a lot of people that would raise an eyebrow if they came across a few whole cloves nestled snugly in their bowl of bucatini. I was dubious, but went ahead as planned. I doubled the recipe (26 cloves people!) and began to sauté the garlic as per the Franks’ instructions: slowly, over low heat, in an ocean of olive oil. The resulting release of starches and caramelization of the sugar from the wild autumn garlic that I used produced one of the most intoxicating smells I have ever experienced. I then added the fresh tomatoes and let everything settle in for the four hour soak.
The results were incredible. Alchemy occurred at 2 1/2 hours in as the cloves started to fall apart and dissipate into the sauce. The result? Deep red, pleasantly shimmering, sweet, garlic-y (in a good way) loveliness. I love that the garlic sorted itself out and – more importantly – that I was left to my own devices to figure that out. I think good cookbooks should give you everything you need but allow for some surprise and discovery as well. On that note, I’ll let you all find out about the Franks’ religious devotion to white pepper on your own time but, suffice it to say, I am a convert.
I have since used this sauce to add to a ragu in place of tomato paste, to dress Marco Canora’s gnocchi (my dear lord), and in lieu of ketchup in a mirepoix and spice driven sloppy joe recipe from a recent issue of Gourmet.
Required reading.
Old Glory.
We’re on an alternate-year schedule with our summer plans so instead of heading to the island this summer, we were due back at the lake. Every time I return to the Leelanau Peninsula, I fall little more deeply in love with it. Cornfields, lakefront, woods, wildlife, bountiful fruit orchards and sandy beaches make for one hell of a combination.
Weather was great; food was unreal. Eggs, meat and toast breakfasts daily (standouts included The Foothills Cafe and the sausage patties at Mabel Ann’s); an insane midweek corn roast and fish-fry that also included a special appearance by some grilled venison backstraps; homebaked pies and meatloaf; and a delicious final dinner at La Bécasse in Maple City. On the plate that evening: homestyle rilettes with cornichons and country mustard, an oven-roasted tomato tart with chevre and fresh herbs, hanger steak with garlic mash and Guillaume’s apple tatin. In a word… amazing.
Forays into Glen Arbor included frequent stops at Cherry Republic and a leisurely browsing of the stacks at the beloved Cottage Book Shop: one of the most lovingly and creatively curated bookstores that I have ever been in. I love coming back to Michigan…
Picked up some great finds at the outlets and the flagship stores. More on that later.
Brakeless and Off The Hook.
In just a few days, the Brakeless shop-in-shop at Off The Hook will launch. I can’t imagine that another collaboration based around fixed gear culture will come as a surprise to many of you, but see this for what it is… An opportunity to celebrate a Montreal relationship that has been growing steadily for the better part of 5 years. Sylvester was (and still is) a customer of Off The Hook before opening his shop; and since opening his doors, just about every employee of OTH has gone to Sylvester to build their machines.
The focus of the shop will be to re-create a bit of the ambiance that anyone who has been to Brakeless has come to love and appreciate. It is also an opportunity for both shops to partner with makers of fine gear and produce some limited edition tees for the height of our summer here in Montreal. Pictured above are the coasters that we made which will double as hangtags. There will be headwear by Quintin, some amazing bags by RELOAD and some t-shirt graphics designed by yours truly.
I’m truly honored to have been asked to participate in the project and hope that the shop is well received…
More images to come… Cheers!
Just Visiting.
I’ve been meaning to do a personal card for a minute now, but I have to say it took me FAR longer than I expected to come up with a concept. It’s a personal thing and everyone has an opinion. I decided to use a format suggested by Jan Tschichold in his design opus Die Neue Typographie:
A private visiting-card naturally does not carry headings. Most important: the prime requisite for a satisfactory result is to keep the printed information down to the barest essentials. Since for various reasons it is most desirable that the dimensions of business and private cards should be the same, the format DIN A7 (74 x 105mm) must be used. The former distinction between “ladies’ cards” and “gentlemen’s cards” and countless similar nuances must be forgotten: they have now become stupid and in addition unpractical. © Jan Tcshichold 1928.
In spite of the odd (and slightly larger) format, I like the result; particularly the ruled lines on the back reserved specifically for notes. I made some for Paul as well. Names are set in Standard, a mid-century sans-serif that you have likely seen here. The balance of the copy is set in Garamond. Custom monograms were also incorporated to lend a personalized touch to an otherwise spare layout.
Letterpress printing by Litsa Babalis at That Sky Blue.
