When I was in Canada at the end of last year, I paid a visit to my old high school. It’s a special environment for me, where the base of who I am was formed, and where I met some of the most influential people in my life. During my visit, I was asked to make an impromptu appearance at the careers course. I had no clue what to talk about, and I felt like I was rambling. Then I talked about some of the influential teachers in my life. One of the students was astounded that I knew, personally knew, one of their teachers. I had been out of high school for eight years, and I knew their teacher. “Yes,” I replied, “he was my teacher ten years ago.” T-E-N. Ten years ago. I was a student at my high school ten years ago, and graduated eight years ago. Yikes. My spiel continued, without any known destination. I told them to have three or four non-negotiable values that you always stand by when looking for work. Then they had me come back to the idea of influential teachers. I told them that sometimes, teachers teach you more than just the curriculum; they teach you values, tendencies, personality traits, and you won’t realise this until years later. It was really only when I came back to visit my high school earlier this year that I realised this. There were quite a few teachers who left a lasting legacy on my life.

I met with so many of my old teachers, one of whom was my senior kindergarten teacher. She has been in my life since she was my teacher, 20 years ago. I remember when I was younger, I would spend my outdoor recesses in her classroom, helping her with odd tasks and all. I said this was to avoid having to go outside in whatever the weather was. But really, it was because I did — and still do — adore her and her joy. I have never, ever, seen her in a bad mood, heard her speak in a negative way. She’s always doing something that brings her joy. Whether it is handmade holiday cards for her students using a snowman stamp, or taking free online university courses in her temps libre, and even taking art classes, furthering her skills. From my view, she’s not doing this to be better at something or to prove herself, but because she finds joy in it. Joy. Joie. There is no other word in the world I could use to describe my kindergarten teacher. There is no other lesson I can think of from her that has imparted such an important and lasting effect on my life (aside from the poem about squirrels). Now, when I think of something that brings me joy, I almost always think of Mme L when whatever I’m doing brings me joy.

As I continued in middle school, another teacher made a large impact on my life. This French teacher would help me navigate the very odd years of middle school, while also juggling other pressures. Her support was integral to my foundation going into high school and further life. Mme M was always ready to listen, to advise, to support. And to all of this, there was no condition to it, there were no expectations, no hierarchy; two equals. This allowed me to feel safe and heard. She has always had zero conditions on her support. Unfortunately, I did not get to see her during my last trip to Canada, but this notion of unconditional support has not left me. Before my departure to France, I remember making a visit to see her at my old high school, and she spoke of how excited she was to watch me follow my dreams. This version of unconditional support has translated into my life in the way I support my friends, and the type of person I aspire to be when I grow up.

My art teacher in high school is someone who is impossible to forget, as I am. She is a fierce, and I mean fierce, supporter of whatever she believes in. Be it human rights, equal opportunity, desire to learn, or art history, she fiercely and endlessly supports what she believes in. During my visit, she told me about how she’s gotten herself into hard situations because she is such a fierce supporter of what she believes in. I believe this is the only way to live when it comes to your beliefs. Recently, I found online a quote along the lines of: art has always been, and will always be political in nature. There is no other way I can describe Ms J. While Ms J is not political, she abides by the same rules that everything she does is in an effort to promote or advance what she believes in, and to me, there is almost nothing more noble than this.

One of my last teachers, who made a huge difference in my life, is a culinary teacher. When I saw him in October, he was endlessly rambling about the state of the student body, how they are always on their phones, how they never stop talking, how they do not know how to properly socialise (I guess they were in elementary school during COVID). However, this has allowed him to continue discovering himself. Finding things that help him live life more vicariously, learning more about how his brain works, and how he is able to form better relationships. While I may be terrible at replying to his messages (as I am to anyone except my family and closest friends), his random stories always bring me joy and remind me to never stop the journey of discovering oneself. It truly is an endless journey, and one that I feel most of us do not put nearly enough emphasis on during our lifetimes. While Chef C may feel like his body can’t take being a culinary teacher much longer, his mind is a never-ending pit of knowledge and learning. Like bees (if you know, you know).

While I can barely remember specific academic lessons taught to me by these teachers, these life lessons have not only shaped me, but also helped me fill the void in life. In a book I am currently reading (more on that below), there is one quote that makes me think of these lessons taught to me by my teachers:

While Voltaire (Ingénu, ch. 2, para. 1) speaks of the time wasted, it makes me think of the opposite: the time spent learning from such people, and taking from them memories and lessons.

Happy Adventuring,

Ahmed

Things I’m Enjoying

Ingénu by Voltaire: Originally published in 1767, the story explores the fictional journey of a Huron aboriginal who was taken to England, learned English and French, and then ventured to the shores of Normandy (or Brittany, depending on who you ask).

Normal to Nomad by Barron Link: A book that I bought in 2023, but still waiting for a friend to send it to me (US shipping only), written by a YouTuber that I quite enjoy watching. Barron explores the various steps and materials needed to begin living nomadically in today’s society. While I don’t think I can live nomadically, it is very useful information for when I can one day buy a hut in the middle of nowhere.

Clairefontaine Pollen Envelopes: I’m finally out of my 500 neon-coloured envelopes from Canada, so I had to buy some more envelopes for my letters. I don’t want to buy some plain old white envelopes, as my penpals always write about the joy that the coloured envelopes bring them, so I decided on sticking to one colour, and decided to go with the Clairefontaines that are available at the local stationery store.

Month of Letters: The Month of Letters is an annual challenge that asks its participants to write one letter each day the postal service runs, and to reply to all letters written during the month. With the change in the way we communicate in today’s world, I find it important to be able to communicate in a tangible way that you can read and feel, not just see behind some random screen. It’s a far more human experience.

I know I’m weird, and I don’t understand other people at all; I just do not comprehend suppressing creativity. To me, it is almost like not preparing for something you know is coming. Why suppress creative desire? Sure, something might cost money, but such is the society we live in. Everything else that brings you joy costs money—travelling, drinking, eating out. So why is creativity all of a sudden something people are not willing to spend money on? I’ve read many [personal finance] books that preach that money should only be spent on appreciating assets or on expenses that will increase your income. There is no doubt that being creative creates many positive impacts on the body and your mind, which are arguably the most important income-generating assets you have. Myself, I’m currently falling into the same trap of trying to justify it. Whether a creative habit makes money or not, just creating or sharing any sort of ideas suffices.

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I recently came across this YouTube creator, a first-generation Canadian-Sri Lankan now living in New York. He often posts videos about being a creative adult. Albeit it is his job, he makes it approachable to the regular person, while also appealing to a desire of maintaining a refined image. Rajiv speaks a lot about being creative, placing yourself in the arts or the urge to act on ideas as soon as they come to you to prevent any sort of barrier or time to allow yourself to attempt to justify it and fall into the same rut of not actually doing it. He goes on to say, “When you’re struck with a creative inspiration, make that inspiration into a creative act.” And I could not echo this sentiment anymore. Any time more barriers are created, you are not going to be creative. The sole purpose of being creative is to make yourself happy and enjoy the time that you are spending on this earthly existence.

Lots of people also often feel the need to judge others for being creative. I’m sure I’ve told my coworkers, “Oh, I’ve done this, and I enjoyed it,” and they’ll question me, “Where is the money in this?” My response is almost always the same—because I wanted to, because I had the idea, so I did it. Nothing was stopping or limiting me. I just did. Then, after the fact, I think back, why do these questions seem so… judgmental, so… rude? This will often happen with other people in my life; they’ll say the same things, in different words, speaking about how other people will judge you and force you to put forth a false version of yourself. But this is so damaging, destructive, and disturbing to me. What good are we doing for ourselves by thinking of and wondering what others will think of us? I genuinely do not care, or even think of what others think, until someone else brings it up. My hopes, desires, and joys have literally no effect on others, at all, under any circumstances, unless they are directly involved in it. Genuinely, what use is it to think about what others think when they are not involved with it?

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Even still, people feel the need to interrupt you or provide their opinion on your work. I cannot count how many times I’ve had friends drag me out for drinks during the time I set aside for my creative tasks. Sometimes, I even interrupt it myself, telling myself there will be another moment, another evening, another day where I’ll sit down and return to it. But those moments are never guaranteed. Creative time is fragile, and once it is broken, it is difficult to return to the same headspace, the same intention. Each interruption chips away at the importance I claim this work has to me. If I truly value creating, then I have to start protecting it, even from myself. Not every invitation needs to be accepted, not every opinion needs to be heard, and not every moment needs to be shared. Some things are meant to exist quietly, without explanation, without justification. Creativity is one of them.

Happy adventuring,

Ahmed

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Things I’m Enjoying at the Moment

Why I’m No Longer Talking to White People About Race by Reni Eddo-Lodge: This book, while written in 2017, is the first piece of writing I have read that eloquently puts my recent experiences of racism into words. If you had asked me 10 years ago, I’d have said that this book is wildly different from my personal experiences, though now, as the world’s politics have been changing and evolving, this book is very relatable.

Pilot G-Tec-C4 Pens: I love a nice pen. These pens aren’t nice; they are whatever is better than nice. such fine pens, such a fine nib, such a fine barrel. Just a lovely experience.

Notes from Elo: A new Substack created by a creator that I very much enjoy her style and content.

sorry, no recipe this time!

At the time of writing, I have been back to France for a couple of weeks now after my annual Thanksgiving trip back to Canada. I am now also a holder of a multi-year residence permit (not yet a permanent resident), meaning I don’t have to stress every 10 months to renew my residence permit and drop 225€ each time I do, plus additional lawyer fees, which normally you don’t need, but apparently, I needed this time. The text message came three days before my departure to Canada — Your residence permit will be ready for pickup on 06102025 Pay 225EUR Remember PASSPORT OLD PERMIT FISCAL STAMP. The relief that it left me with, I can actually enjoy my time in Canada, I don’t have to keep checking my phone, my online account, or asking my friend who agreed to check my mail if a registered letter has come for me that I need to have my lawyer action on. Though I might have been in Canada the day my residence permit was available for pick up, I knew that when I got back to France, I at least had temporary freedom, which turned out to be freedom for four years.

Looking back on my trip to Canada, I must say, I was intoxicated. Not intoxicated, but intoxicated. Not on alcohol or drugs — okay, maybe a bit of alcohol — but on love. Love for my family, love for my friends, love for my home country. I do love each and every one of my friends. If I am not madly in love with the idea of you, you just can’t be my friend; it doesn’t work any other way. Recently, I came across an article about the different categories or types of love the ancient Greeks came up with. My relationship with my closest friends is truly characterised by philia:

Philia is the love shared between close friends, characterised by loyalty, mutual respect, and shared values. Aristotle considered philia as essential to a well-lived life, describing it as the love that binds communities together. Unlike eros, philia is not driven by passion but rather by deep emotional bonds and companionship.
Love in all its forms: The seven types of Greek love to celebrate this February by Sofia Araujo

Now, while this characterises the love I have for almost all of my friends, some of them wouldn’t be any different than the love I have for a lover — maybe that’s why I’m still single? Okay, maybe not eros, but pragma, the love that comes with time; one that is about understanding and patience, that is built on choice and perseverance. Thinking back, of all the people I saw while in Canada, the shortest friendship of those would be Quinnivire, whom I only met in person for the first time last year, one year into our friendship. My friendship with Quinn is one of intense philia, some eros, and a lot of pragma. The admiration, the adoration, the respect I have for that woman is intense. There are very few people I can tolerate for 8+ hours in a day, and she is one of the few. Though she never shuts up (with love), she is never not saying something intellectual, or that has not changed the way I think, articulate, and see the world. This is just one example of my ardour for my friends; just barely on the edge of eros.

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To say I have no passion for my friends would be wildly incorrect. Eros is embodied by passion, and that is the line that is blurred when it comes to my friends. There’s truly nothing better than my friends, there’s nothing that is wrong with them, there is never a time that I do not want to support my friends or spend time with them. The difference between my two versions of eros, friend and lover, is found in possession. Yes, they are my friends, my confidants, but they are not exclusively mine. Between friends, there has to be, to an extent, attraction. I wouldn’t sleep with my friends, but I would, without a doubt, say that I am attracted to them. Not physically, but… I don’t have the words for this. Spiritually? Intellectually? Maybe the word is intellectually attracted, if that exists. Going back to the example of Quinn, I am passionate about her intellect, about her words, about her lived experience that she so eloquently puts into words. That is what I mean by eros in friendship. And I think that having such an attraction is necessary in adult friendships. And that is so very important since there is no longer a need to be with your friends. We don’t spend 8 hours a day together in school, there is no necessity in association as an adult, so, by that simple note, we must be attracted to our friends, otherwise we would never see them, and why would you see someone that you’re not attracted to?

Dear Universe, Love Q

I want to write about love but betrayal is screeching for the mic.

Don’t panic, but I’m going to die. Not tonight, or tomorrow, or on any foreseeable date, but my existence is simmering in a whirlpool of impermanence. I have survived because I have somehow managed to snag the collar of my shirt around a long, dull stick, while the current wants to rip my body apart. Thankfully my skin keeps me intact. I’m too aware of …

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6 months ago · 2 likes · Quinnivire

Pragma. Understanding, patience, choice, perseverance. Embodied by my dearest friend, Taylor. She’ll probably be my best “man,” if I ever get married and if we don’t need to activate our marriage pact (and it doesn’t look like we’ll need to, at least on her end). The situation we became friends under, was, unique, to say the least, it was not an interaction I was looking for, or wanted, nor did I expect to come out of that interaction with a friend that is now such an important part of my life; it has officially been five years and one month since. There are no words that exist for me to express my reverence of her, she is the woman that I revere the most that is not blood related. She’s the one that’s always there for me, listens to whatever randomness I have to say, no matter what’s going on in her life. We can equally tell each other what we’re thinking, without any repercussions. If one of us thinks the other is in the wrong, we say it, and we listen without judgment or prejudice. Earlier this year, my actions, or rather lack of actions, hurt her, and she told me bluntly and honestly. We both actively make a choice to always listen to and support each other. Again, just barely on the edge of lovers, like her ex used to say (precisely, he would call us ‘secret lovers’). Now pregnant with her third (not including two miscarriages experienced last year), she is the strongest woman I know. With the absolute horrors she has gone through over the past three years, it amazes me every day how she continues to smile and find a laugh in everything that happens. We jointly laugh our f*cking asses off, by text, day in and day out, despite the seven-hour difference.

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Until now, the Greeks have been able to articulate my love for my friends, except for one, a silent love. Ember, as Madi first introduced herself to me, is my second-longest-lasting friendship. Though we’ve never met in flesh — despite having been on the same continent, in the same country, just hours away from each other, during a train strike — the trust I have in her is paramount. Ember is my go-to graphic designer, actually, my only graphic designer (she has designed all but one of my logos). Generally, I give her a vague description or multiple ‘vibe references’ and she translates it all into the most stunning graphism, making sense of my vague notes and exclamations. Over the past nine years, we’ve seen each other grow and change; told each other when we don’t like one of the other’s friends, and still, we are there for each other like it’s second nature. Though we might not be fully present in each other’s lives, we pick up where we left off and reply to each other as soon as humanely possible (sometimes before the other has finished writing their message). Most importantly, we create an environment for mutual respect and love, regardless of the word we might use in place of love. My relationship with Ember reflects the notion that there is no such thing as a 50/50 relationship; sometimes I put more effort into tending to the relationship, and sometimes she does. Like all relationships, friendship is a give-and-take while silently supporting the other, operating on the basis that there is no end in sight, ever.

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I can go on and on and on forever about my friends — Olivia, Nawaaz, Carla-Marie, Laura, Fiona, Kyle, Areeg, Ksenia, Matia, Kate, among others (in no particular order) — alas, this essay must come to an end. I do love my friends; they are central to my life. I love my friends.

This is what I mean when I say I love you.

Happy adventuring,

Ahmed

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Things I’m enjoying at the moment

L’art de voyager sans billet by Jack London: A French translation of the work The Road, which I originally bought as a birthday gift for a French penpal. I decided that as a gift, I’ll read it and annotate it, so when they read it, they can also read my thoughts and ideas. It’s a light and easy read, and a very short read, and I’m very much enjoying it. Extra points for the story beginning in Ottawa!

Sour watermelons from Bulk Barn: While in Canada, I made a very important stop at Bulk Barn to pick up some very, very important candy, my favourite sour watermelons from Bulk Barn. There’s none that taste as artificial; the Maynard’s version just isn’t nearly as addictive.

Stroopwafels from The Netherlands: My friend Laura sent me about 2kg of stroopwafels and my favourite candy from The Netherlands for my birthday over the summer. As I write this post, I’m eating the very last stroopwafel I have left. The candies were inhaled in about 2.78 minutes on my birthday.

Mithi sev (sweet noodles)

A recipe from my maternal grandmother that makes me just as warm and fuzzy on the inside as my friends do.

Serves A LOT (8+ servings)

100g butter
250g angel hair pasta
1 cinnamon stick
a handful of raisins and/or chopped nuts
1L water
100-200g cane or brown sugar, to taste
a splash of heavy cream

1. In a heavy-bottomed pot, melt the butter over medium heat. Once melted, add the angel hair pasta, mixing every 30-45 seconds until the pasta becomes slightly darker than golden brown.

2. Add the cinnamon stick and the raisins/nuts (if using), and mix. Heat until the cinnamon stick becomes fragrant.

3. Add the water and sugar, mix until dissolved. Bring to a boil, then reduce to a simmer. Cover. Every 3-5 minutes, remove the cover and mix. Cook until there is just barely any liquid left; it should bubble up when you scrape the bottom of the pot, just barely enough to continue cooking using residual heat.

4. Turn off the heat and remove the pan from the element. Cover and allow the rest of the liquid to be absorbed, about 10-15 minutes.

5. Once the remaining liquid has been absorbed, add a splash of heavy cream and mix it in.

Serve warm. Can keep in the fridge in an airtight container for up to 4 days (though it probably won’t last that long). If storing in the fridge, warm before serving in the microwave.

The hardest part about living alone is probably having to do everything yourself. Clean the kitchen. Clean the bathroom. Sweeping twice a day because of how much hair I shed. But it’s still nice. It’s freeing in a way. I can come home and there’s no obligation to anyone. There’s no obligation to anything. There’s no one to get offended that I don’t say hello to them. There’s no one there. It’s just me and my books and my laptop and my notebooks and me.

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I have my letters that give me a sense of community, that I send out to my friends here and there, and maybe some family sometimes. But it’s light. It’s not heavy. A quote that perfectly sums up how I enjoy letter writing is from Lord Byron:

My rituals that I’ve developed being alone have really been around tea. Making tea whenever I feel like it and making tea the way I like it. Sure, it might be a little bit messy, but it’s nice that there is no one to get upset that I’m taking up space using tea materials. That’s what really makes me feel warm inside, I guess, figuratively and literally. It’s so comforting with tea, and it’s grounding in a way that makes me feel safe and welcome in my own place.

When it comes to eating on my own, that part is very weird to me. I don’t particularly like eating alone, but I don’t have a choice. There’s always YouTube going on in the background, whether it’s in the middle of the day, during my days off, or during my meal. It feels like a distant company. Of course, there’s not really anyone on the other end, so it’s not like I can have a conversation, but eating alone is really weird. Cooking alone, on the other hand, is very freeing. There’s no one in my way. There’s no one that tells me, you should do this, you should do that. It’s just my food the way I want to eat my food, whether it is vegetarian, vegan, pescatarian, or what, no one will ask me where is the meat?

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Living alone has definitely influenced my routines. Looking at my mornings, I’m waking up a lot later because there’s no one in my way. There’s no one that’s blocking me from doing what I need to. There’s no one using the washroom, there’s no one using the stove, there’s no one using the toaster. I have everything at my disposal at the times I want them to be, which is very nice.

But then in the evening, I feel like I crave more connection with people. I’m texting friends, I’m calling friends, so it keeps me up later at night, probably because of the time difference between here and Canada. Even though I have plenty of friends in Europe, it’s the only time that I’m able to message my friends back home because of the time difference. So resting after work is a lot harder in a way, not as immediate as I would like it to be.

If someone were to ask me what it’s really like to live alone in a new country, my response would be: both nervous and freeing. I’m here alone. I barely know anyone outside of my little circle. And I’m able to do what I want, when I want, where I want; as long as the things are open.

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If I want to go to the bookstore, I can go to the bookstore when I want. If I want to go grocery shopping at 4 in the afternoon instead of at 11 in the morning, I can go grocery shopping at 4 in the afternoon.

But it also comes at a cost, where I’m alone to a degree. I don’t go out because I live in a very small village that doesn’t have much to do. I don’t particularly want to spend time with my co-workers outside of work, because they’re my co-workers, and sometimes we just don’t have the same interests.

So, in all, living alone is very weird. But it’s also super freeing.

Happy adventuring,

Ahmed

A part of a postcard from a friend reads “In the meantime, I will carry the essence of your existence in my pocket like a lucky pebble.”

Strawberry Rhubarb Jam

500g hulled washed strawberries

500g peeled washed rhubarb, cut into 2” strips

500g granulated sugar

25g powdered pectin

1. In a large sauce pot, combine the strawberries, rhubarb, and half the sugar. Bring this to a boil.

2. Once the fruit mix is boiling, in a bowl, combine the remaining sugar and the pectin. Using a whisk, whisk this into the fruit mix. Using a hand blender, blend the jam until it reaches your desired smoothness. I like mine to be mostly smooth. Bring back to a boil.

3. Lower the heat to a simmer and continue to cook until the jam reaches 105ºF.

4. Store in clean containers and allow to cool. If you would like to heat can (to allow it to be stored at room temperature, do so before cooling, after the jam is in the jars).

Store in the fridge and eat as desired.

My earliest memory of tea takes me back to my grandparents’ house. They would always make us Tetley tea with lots of sugar and lots of milk, and to this day, I still go back to that combination when nostalgia pulls me in. It’s a comforting taste, a reminder of childhood and warmth.

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But beyond that early memory, tea has never been something deeply symbolic to me—it’s more of a ritual, something woven into my daily life. Sometimes, it becomes a habit, especially when I have limits on how I can boil my water. I own a gooseneck kettle, and when I have access to a stove that doesn’t use an absurd amount of electricity, making tea becomes an experience rather than just a routine.

Whenever I make loose leaf tea, I always brew it three times. The first steep is groggy, underdeveloped, but still undeniably tea. The second steep is the best—full-bodied, malty, flavorful, perfect. The third steep? Well, it’s mostly to make sure the leaves don’t go to waste. It’s still tea, but the magic is in that second brew.

One of my strongest tea-related memories comes from pastry school, where a close friend, Ksenia, and I made it a tradition to have afternoon tea every Thursday. If we had morning classes, we’d go to the city centre, browse the market, pick up a few things, and then head to my place for tea. If we had afternoon classes, we’d do the same, just with a morning market run, lunch, and tea before heading to school.

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That ritual wasn’t just about the tea. It was about slowing down, savouring the moment, and building a friendship that would last. That simple act of setting aside time for tea strengthened our bond.

Tea has also been a quiet companion through some of the hardest moments in my life. When my grandfather and my aunt passed away, I turned to certain teas to feel connected to them.

My aunt had loved a tea I introduced her to—one of my favourites from Murchie’s in British Columbia—so I found myself drinking it often after she passed. And when my grandfather passed, I made masala chai or the milk tea from my childhood. It was a way to remember, to sit with the memories, to process loss in a way that felt natural.

The way people treat tea changes depending on where you are, and I’ve definitely noticed those differences over time. In North America, people tend to see tea as either an afterthought or a poor substitute for coffee. They don’t seem to appreciate that tea isn’t a replacement—it’s an entirely different experience.

Indian people, whether in North America or Eastern Europe, tend to have a much deeper appreciation for tea. It’s part of the culture, ingrained in daily life. I’ve also noticed that the Netherlands has a strong tea culture—high tea and afternoon tea are common, and tea is just a normal, expected part of life rather than something niche or secondary.

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One of the most meaningful tea experiences I’ve had was actually in the Netherlands. I visited my pen pal, Laura, and we had afternoon tea at a café called Downey’s—I can’t remember if it was in Utrecht or Amersfoort, but the place itself left a lasting impression. All the staff had Down syndrome, and the café provided them with an opportunity to work, engage with the community, and gain independence. That afternoon tea wasn’t just about the food or the tea—it was about the environment, the atmosphere, and the feeling of being part of something special.

Right now, tea is more of a habit for me than a ritual, but when I have the right setup, it becomes something much more deliberate. The difference between just pouring boiling water into a cup and carefully using a gooseneck kettle is huge. The latter forces you to slow down. You have to take in the scents, the motions, the emotions. It’s not just plopping tea into a mug—it’s an act of intention.

Of course, sometimes I switch things up. Right now, I have some really nice Sri Lankan black teas and a malty oolong that I’ve been drinking more often. But I always come back to black tea—I’ve never liked green tea or anything else. A strong, malty black tea is where my heart is.

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At its core, tea has a way of creating moments—moments of connection, moments of reflection, moments of comfort. Even though I haven’t had many friendships where tea played a deep role in strengthening the bond, I’ve enjoyed introducing friends to real tea, explaining the difference between true tea and herbal infusions, and watching them gain a new appreciation for it.

There’s something about tea that slows life down, that makes space for conversation, that turns simple interactions into something a little more meaningful. Whether it’s an afternoon tradition with a close friend, a way to remember lost loved ones, or simply the comforting rhythm of daily cups, tea has quietly shaped my life in ways I never fully realised—one steep at a time.

Happy adventuring,

Ahmed

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My love for letter writing was rekindled in college when a friend and I began exchanging postcards from our travels. What started as a simple way to stay in touch turned into something more—a passion for connecting through letters. Over time, I found myself forming penpal relationships across the globe. At first, these exchanges may have seemed casual, but as the letters continued, they deepened, fostering genuine and authentic bonds.

One of my most cherished friendships is with Laura, a penpal from the Netherlands. Our connection began through letters and eventually grew into daily text conversations. But even with the ease of digital communication, our handwritten letters hold a depth that texting can’t replicate. Writing and receiving letters allows us to explore our thoughts and emotions in a way that feels more reflective, more intentional—something that transcends physical distance (particularly about rogue coworkers or clients/patients).

I also have friendships that exist almost entirely through letters. While we may follow each other on Instagram, our primary form of communication is through the mail. There’s a freedom in it—no need to filter words, no second-guessing if something might be screenshotted or misinterpreted online. It’s raw, unpolished, and deeply personal in a way that feels increasingly rare.

Social media has changed the way we value (or devalue) handwritten letters. Online, everything is curated. If I go to a restaurant and want to take a picture, I don’t just snap one and move on. I spend time rearranging the table—placing the plates and wine glasses just right, making sure the shot looks perfect. I take 15 or 20 pictures, choosing the best one later.

Letter writing is the opposite. There’s no pre-planning, no endless retakes. When I write a letter, it just comes out the way it comes out. I start by replying to their letter, then move into updates about my life, my thoughts, my ideas. It’s spontaneous and honest. There’s no backspace, no delete button—just my thoughts, captured as they come.

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There’s also something special about the physical act of writing a letter. It requires time and effort, making it a tangible demonstration of care. Writing about emotional topics by hand can be harder than typing, but it also offers a therapeutic outlet for reflection and growth. In many ways, letter writing has become a substitute for journaling in my life. Instead of keeping my thoughts locked away in a notebook no one might ever read, I share them with others. My letters become more than personal reflections—they are a way of documenting my life while strengthening relationships.

I remember sending a letter to a very good friend in Toronto when he was going through a difficult time. He later called me, emotional and deeply grateful. That moment solidified for me just how powerful a letter can be.

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Despite the world being more digital than ever, I believe letter writing has the potential for a resurgence. We saw a massive rise in bread-making during COVID—something that was once considered too time-consuming or impractical suddenly became mainstream. Letter writing could follow the same path. But for it to truly make a comeback, there would need to be a push from postal services and letter-writing organizations to help popularize it. Movements like Month of Letters (LetterMo) and InCoWriMo exist, but they remain relatively unknown.

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Letter writing forces us to slow down. It demands presence, requiring us to put distractions away and focus entirely on the act of writing. It’s a form of communication that feels deliberate, unfiltered, and deeply personal.

For me, letter writing will always be a part of my life. It’s a way to connect more deeply with others, to express thoughts without filters, and to create something tangible and lasting. And perhaps that’s the most valuable part of all—letters endure. Unlike a fleeting text or a disappearing Instagram story, a letter is something you can hold, tuck away, and return to years later, rediscovering the emotions woven into its pages.

Happy adventuring,

Ahmed

PS: You can read the original, unedited, handwritten version of this newsletter on the LetterMo.com blog!

Earl Grey Ice Cream

Ingredients

300 g whole milk
15 g Earl Grey tea (loose leaf)
90 g egg yolks
75 g sugar
15 g milk powder
20 g glucose powder (or light corn syrup)
2 g ice cream stabiliser (ignore if you don’t have any)
70 g liquid full-fat cream

Method

1. In a saucepot, heat the milk with the tea leaves. Allow this to infuse for at least 15 minutes. Strain and weigh the infused milk. The infused milk should be 250 g, if it is not 250 g, add more milk. Return the infused milk to the saucepot and heat.

2. In a bowl, mix together the egg yolks, sugar, milk powder, glucose powder (if using corn syrup, add this directly to the infused milk), and ice cream stabiliser. Mix vigorously.

3. Once the infused milk comes to a soft boil, pour half of it over the egg yolk mixture and mix vigorously. Pour this back into the saucepot over low heat.

4. Using a whisk or rubber spatula, continue mixing the ice cream base over low heat, scraping against the bottom and sides of the pot. Once this thickens to a consistency of a sauce (crème anglaise), strain it all into a bowl and cover with plastic wrap that is in direct contact with the sauce to prevent a skin from forming. Place this in the fridge for at least 12 hours to cool and mature.
   Note: If you do not know what the correct consistency of a sauce is, using the back of a spoon, dip the spoon into the pot and pull away. You’ll pull your finger along the back of the spoon so that the trace your finger leaves behind is parallel to the bottom of the spoon. If the sauce falls over the trace left behind by your finger, then it needs to be cooked more. The sauce should still be liquid, but hold itself from dropping into the trace.

5. After cooling and maturing, place the ice cream base into an ice cream churner according to the manufacturer’s instructions and churn according to the manufacturer’s instructions. If you are using a Ninja Creami or Paco-Jet, freeze the base in the manufacturer’s containers for 24 hours before spinning according to the manufacturer’s instructions.

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The equinox is when life starts happening again. You leave your home. You go outside. You’re not stuck inside anymore, waiting for the rain to pass, waiting for the sun to rise. Instead, the world feels open again, ready for movement, ready for life.

There’s something about the start of the calendar year in January that has always felt unnatural to me. It’s still cold, still dark, still rainy—or snowy, depending on where you are. There’s no real change in your body, no sense of renewal. It feels arbitrary, like something dictated by scientists rather than something we feel deep in our bones.

But spring—that’s different. Spring is when your body knows something is changing. The days get longer. The air gets lighter. The world starts waking up, and so do we.

As the equinox approaches, I don’t notice any massive, life-altering changes. It’s more like a series of small shifts, little signals that things are moving forward. I stay up later. I don’t linger in bed as long. I feel lighter, happier. There are flowers everywhere. The trees are green again. Birds are singing, and their sound makes everything feel more alive.

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It’s not a sudden transformation, but rather a gradual awakening. And that’s what makes it feel right—like I’m syncing up with the world around me instead of forcing change just because the calendar says I should.

There are deep cultural and historical traditions tied to the equinox that resonate with me. In particular, I celebrate Navroz as a religious holiday, and that connection has only deepened over time. Teaching about Navroz in religious education classes made me realize how many people, across so many cultures, have viewed the equinox as the true beginning of the year. It’s not just something I made up—it’s something deeply rooted in history.

And yet, it’s not even the religious aspect that makes it feel “correct” to me. It’s the simple fact that so many other people have recognized it, too. The equinox has long been seen as a time of renewal, rebirth, and fresh beginnings. That means something.

I don’t have any strict rituals around the equinox, but I do approach goal-setting in a way that aligns with the seasons.

In January, I set goals—not necessarily as New Year’s resolutions, but as preparations. The first few months of the year are like a quiet buildup, a time to lay the groundwork. Then, when the equinox arrives, I’m ready. This is when things truly start. This is when the momentum kicks in.

Winter, in a way, is the preparatory phase. Spring is when things actually happen.

There’s something freeing about aligning with the natural world in this way. I don’t feel the pressure to force change in the dead of winter, when all I really want to do is stay warm and wait for the light to return. Instead, I embrace the natural rhythm of things.

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And when spring arrives, I step into it fully—light, airy, unburdened by the heaviness of winter. The sun is out. The world is in bloom. I can buy flowers from the store. I can go out and enjoy the day.

And I know, without a doubt, that the new year has truly begun.

Happy adventuring,

Ahmed

Things I’m Enjoying

Being an involved citizen - In 2009, the Supreme Court of Canada reaffirmed that expatriate Canadians living outside of Canada in a permanent manner can still exercise their democratic rights, specifically their right to representation. I have been taking full advantage of this ruling and consistently sending letters written to my MP (which my dad prints out and sends on my behalf) with all the turmoil going on. If you weren’t aware, Canada Post allows Canadians to send letters to the House of Commons and Senate without paid postage.

My fancy Original Crown Mill paper - I’ve run out of birthday cards so recently I’ve been sending our birthday notes on my expensive laid paper that I’ve been holding on to for ages for “something special.” But what’s more special than someone’s birthday? So far people have been enjoying them, though I only have a limited amount.

My new dessert coming to the menu next month - This new dessert, based on a London Fog, is just the perfect comfort dessert in the foggy Normandy coasts. It’s still not sunny here, a little cool, and very rainy. The dessert is a sort of bar or a finger. At the bottom a light and fluffy almond sponge, with a confit apple gelée, Earl Grey cream, apple reduction, and an Earl Grey ice cream puts you at ease in the unwanted weather.

Springtime Poached Pears

Ingredients

1 litre (4 cups) water
200 g honey (preferably raw)
5 pods green cardamom
1 tbsp rose water
1 tbsp lemon juice
4-5 pears, peeled and cored

Method

1. In a saucepot, combine the water, honey, and cardamom pods. Bring this to a boil. After it comes to a boil, add the rose water and lemon juice, and set aside.

2. Peel the pears, cut them in half, and remove the cores/seeds. Transfer the pears to the sauce pot. You’ll want the pears to be fully submerged in the syrup. If they are not, I suggest transferring them all to a smaller saucepot or using a little bit (no more than 1/2 cup) of water to top them off.

3. Cut a piece of parchment paper into a circle to cover the top of the pot. Push this down to touch the syrup, almost creating a sort of vacuum that prevents air bubbles between the syrup and the parchment.

4. Turn this up to medium heat and bring it to a small boil. Reduce the heat to a simmer, and allow the pears to poach for 20-30 minutes until a knife inserted does not meet any resistance, but the pears are able to hold their shape.

5. Using tongs, carefully remove the pears from the syrup and set aside. Bring the saucepot to a boil and reduce the syrup by half. Allow to cool.

6. In a bowl, place a pear with some granola or streusel, and a scoop of frozen yogurt. Right before serving (or at the table) pour a bit of the reduced syrup over top of the pear.

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I often attribute this turmoil to a lack of education. Take France, for example. A political party gaining traction here focuses on immigration and public funds, yet their policies don’t seem to benefit their supporters. This disconnect, I believe, stems from a gap in economic understanding. Many in France, especially those who go straight to trade school, miss out on learning about finance and economics. When these issues come up in conversation, basic economic principles often seem foreign to them. Without this foundation, fear can take hold—especially when cultural shifts introduce new languages and influences.

Language, after all, is deeply tied to culture. As someone who speaks multiple languages, I notice how each one brings a different perspective. When I speak English, I feel a sense of collectivism and community, likely influenced by my experiences volunteering. French, on the other hand, connects me to my heritage and a sense of individualism—perhaps because volunteering isn’t as deeply ingrained in French culture.

This fear of the unfamiliar can make people hesitant to engage with those who hold different views. It’s understandable, but it’s also what divides us. Too often, people avoid conversations and authentic friendships, opting instead for alliances based on convenience. But why can’t we enjoy each other’s company despite our differences? Genuine connections are built on trust and respect, not complete agreement.

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I’ve seen this firsthand in my friendship with a close friend from Russia. Politically, we’re worlds apart, yet our bond is strong. We understand each other without needing to finish sentences. This connection transcends cultural differences, proving that meaningful relationships can thrive despite diverse backgrounds.

Living in France as a Canadian, I’ve experienced significant cultural differences. Yet, these differences don’t prevent me from forming deep connections. Many of my friends here are international, having traveled and lived abroad. Some speak English fluently; others have never left their hometowns. These factors shape our relationships, influencing how we communicate and the depth of our interactions. Language barriers might exist, but they don’t define our ability to connect.

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As we navigate this turbulent world, let’s focus on building bridges rather than walls. Embrace the adventure of connecting with others, even when their views differ from our own. If this resonates with you, consider subscribing to join me on this journey of personal growth and meaningful relationships.

Together, we can create a future where understanding and respect triumph over division.

Happy adventuring,

Ahmed

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When I lived in Yssingeaux, I found my family. It wasn’t a traditional one, of course, but it was mine. Two professors, a classmate, and a fellow student formed the foundation of this little community. It was a patchwork quilt of personalities and quirks that somehow fit together perfectly. We shared so much more than just meals or stories. Afternoon tea became a ritual for some of us, while others traded early-morning breakfasts, huddled against the cold, or swapped dried sourdough starter like secrets passed between old friends.

But then I moved to Brittany, and the sense of comfort and familiarity unraveled. At first, the solitude was stifling, like wearing a jacket too tight in the shoulders. Being essentially alone felt strange, foreign, even unnatural. Yet Brittany’s people were warm in their own way, and soon enough, I found a kindred spirit, a Taiwanese cook in the hotel kitchen became my friend. We didn’t have much in common, but our companionship was effortless. Once a week, we’d escape the quiet of our village and head to the city. We’d savor a café lunch, wander through grocery stores, and let the city’s energy revive us before heading back to the stillness of Le Conquet.

One day, we decided to try an Indian café for lunch. As I spoke to him about the different types of dishes, the owner overheard me and struck up a conversation. It was one of those serendipitous moments that only happens when you’re open to the world. That chance encounter led to a friendship that blossomed into something far greater than I could have imagined. Soon, there were dinner parties, afternoon teas, hotel visits, and road trips through France - memories stitched together with laughter and camaraderie.

After nine months, it was time to move again. This time, I landed in Trouville-sur-Mer, and while it’s a charming place by the sea, it hasn’t been easy. I’ve been here for over a year now, and for much of that time, I felt untethered. I wouldn’t call it struggling, exactly, but there was something missing, a hollow space that no amount of scenery could fill.

Then, I became friends with an older coworker. She’s a lovely woman who used to work in room service at the hotel. Our connection was immediate, through shared frustration of the lack of logic. Once she left the hotel and found my Instagram, our friendship spilled out of the hotel’s walls and into quiet cafés, long conversations, and around the dinner table. This Christmas Eve, I found myself at her apartment, sharing dinner with her and her son. It felt like finding the chosen family I hadn’t realized I’d been searching for. They have become my chosen family here in Trouville.

Building a family is not for everyone, and it’s certainly not easy. It demands patience, kindness, and a heart open to possibility. But when it happens, when you find those people who anchor you in a place, it’s worth every ounce of effort. As a foreigner, or as someone who moves frequently, creating those bonds can feel daunting, even impossible at times. But it’s achievable. And when it happens, it’s nothing short of magic.

Happy adventuring,

Ahmed

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Things I’m Enjoying

Les coureurs d’épices by Édith and François-Bernard Huyghe - this book really goes into the history and story of how spices came to Europe, how Europeans’ use of spices was dependent on colonisation, and how the world was somewhat globalised because of spices prior to colonisation.

Leuchtturm 1917 notebook - I recently bought one from the local bookstore because they don’t carry my favourite Moleskine notebooks. I think I might have jumped ship - but not for dated notebooks (yet). I’ve been using Moleskine notebooks for as long as I can remember, but I feel the Leuchtturm notebooks are better. All the pages are numbered, the notebooks come with spine and cover stickers, and write rather well. I’ve been using mine to record all of my ideas and random middle-of-the-night thoughts.

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Felena’s, Ottawa was alright. It’s been on my list for probably ten years now, everyone I know has gone there. My family went there last year for my sister’s birthday. It was also the first restaurant I went to since arriving in Canada and let’s just say I forgot how early dinner is. Our reservation was at 7pm, by the time we finally ordered, it was close to 8pm (because we kept on talking so much). The food was alright, wasn’t fantastic. I was expecting somewhat authentic Mexican food, and got texmex. I should have known better. The margarita was also very sweet, and was served tall and not down. We were also kicked out close to 10pm, we were the last in the restaurant and were still chatting away, still with a bit of food left on our plates. Had it not been for the company I was with, it would have been a negative experience. Brutal reminder why I am so very happy with my life here in France. Do not recommend.

Daldongnae Korean BBQ, Ottawa was really nice compared to my previous recent experience dining in Ottawa. A classic Korean BBQ, it had a friendly atmosphere and we were not kicked out for staying past 10pm! The food was pretty good as well and the service was nice too. Not much to say about the food, because again, it was more about the people I was with than the food. Do recommend.

L’Avenue, Toronto was mid. There was nothing overly special about it. The food was good, the atmosphere was… loud? The service was nothing special, very French style service, but with the ask for a tip. I got a spicy chicken and waffles. It was great, though the chicken was definitely overcooked. Our time here was cut short because of my friend’s work call, but wasn’t anything special. Do not recommend.

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Butter & Blue, Toronto was really nice. They had perfect vibes (counter service brought to your table), the food was great, the drinks were good, but not outstanding. Inside was somewhat loud and stuffy, but the patio was perfect and had a nice enclosed backyard type patio. I don’t remember what I drank but had a morning bun with an egg and hasbrown baked into the bun. It was surprisingly good - not dry and came with a nice dipping sauce. Do recommend.

Hexagon, Oakville was just outstanding. I was sent here by my current executive chef as he is close friends with the executive chef. The restaurant had just won their first Michelin star a few weeks before, and the night we were there, the sous chef won the San Pellegrino Young Chef Canada competition. It was an air of celebration and finesse. Our server was amazing and extremely personal, recommending a plates and truly creating a fantastic experience. The food was amazing, the wine was amazing, we were offered glass of champagne for a birthday, with a non-alcoholic option as well. Everything was so well thought out, so well curated. Oh not to mention, the idea of Hexagon is a nod to France, not only in its hexagon name (in reference to the hexagon shape of metropolitan France), but in its ideals, practices, and food, bringing the French style of cooking into a Canadian context. Do recommend.

La Banquise, Montreal is a classic, nothing more to say. Classic poutine. Debit only. Quebecois. Do recommend.

Marcus at the Four Seasons Montreal was ethereal. What is there to not love about a three-course brunch? And bottomless mimosas? The first course was a bagel tower with cream cheese and smoked salmon (!!), second course was scrambled eggs and bacon (or turkey sausages) (but the eggs were fully cooked not like proper scrambled eggs), and the last course was a warm cinnamon roll with a dollop of frosting on top that slowly melted away as you ate. Oh boy, it was so so so good! Definitely somewhere I could go to again! Do recommend, but do not sit at the bar for the brunch.

St Viateur, Montreal again, a classic. True Montreal-style bagels, cream cheese, and slices of cantaloupe (that one weirded me out). Again, debit only. Comforting. Do recommend.

The Coldroom, Montreal was super interesting. Initially, we were expecting it to be a wait for its sister bar, El Pequeno, but then we were pulled down a staircase, down a hallway, into a speakeasy (!!). It was amazing. The logo and entire menu is based on rubber ducks but the entire speakeasy had an exclusive and lowkey atmosphere, truly feeling like a speakeasy, but modern. The drinks were amazing as well. Well balanced and had the choice between frilly and classic. Do recommend.

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Tiradito, Montreal was amazing. A tapas-style Peruvian restaurant with incredible cocktails and very nice food. The menu had some limited items so it's important to get there early to try everything. Do recommend.

Le Petit Dep, Montreal has multiple locations across Montreal, each offering its own unique charm. Their cardamom London Fog is absolutely outstanding - I couldn't get enough London Fogs before leaving Canada. The cafe-buvette locations provide great laptop-free vibes, perfect for disconnecting and enjoying the atmosphere, while one of their locations even serves as a coworking space. Do recommend.

What I’m Enjoying

How Champions Think in Sports and in Life by Dr. Bob Rotella - I can’t say I learned anything new from this book, but it did put my way of thinking into words. I can easily say that the principles in this book is genuinely the way I think in my life. Some passages that really struck me were “yet, most people, in my experience, choose to be average” and “the people I know who seeks to be exceptional would not settle for safe, secure, and ultimately dull life.” These two passages really put my life into words, choosing to not be average, and not settling for safety, security, and having an ecstatic life.

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PWHL and IIH Womens’ U18 Hockey - Though I’m on the other side of the world from the PWHL, it is amazing that I can watch the games on YouTube when I am awake, though my team waived my favourite player before the season even started (they seem to be trading or losing or waiving all of my favourite players :/ ). Also having a great time supporting the Womens’ U18 Team Canada win all the games!

Back in September, right before a significant event in my life, I came across this video on YouTube from a relatively new creator. It struck me in a way that made me rethink my life and my pursuit of happiness. Am I really just waiting for happiness to come? Am I taking steps to ensure my happiness?

Living alone on the other side of the globe from the majority of your friends and family really makes you rethink your obligations to yourself and to others. I do, now, go back home once a year, but is that an obligation to myself or to my family and friends? Most definitely an obligation to myself, one that I value and look forward to. Really the only obligations I have here are to myself (enjoyment of life) and to the French Republic (to support myself and not to rely on their services). Alright, now what? I have two major obligations, one of which is to myself. So theoretically, I can do anything I want to keep myself happy.

Younger me would be in awe of the freedom, oh how much I could do with my life, though it’s not that simple, or at least doesn’t feel that simple. It’s almost like life has become a repetitive motion, or a cyclical order of events—enjoy my vacation, get home and prepare for going back to work with a smile, getting back to work, something happens and then I’m just waiting for my next escape—waiting for the “next big thing.” Though I forget about the now, the cotton candy skies (though not much of that now that it’s winter), the French flags blowing in the wind, or hearing the waves of the Channel through the city streets with the chatter of the locals. It’s like I’m choosing when to be free, and when to be unhappy, like there’s set times for life and a required amount of repetition.

But one can't just limit happiness to small or short snippets of the day. Yes, they can bring in pieces of joy into your life—recently while waiting in line to renew my residence permit I caught a glimpse of a cotton candy sunrise through the buildings across the street—but prioritizing it, not thinking of activities that bring you joy as indulgent, should be part of it. Going out for a tea and to read my book, meeting a friend for lunch, taking a trip to Paris, these should be normal things that I can add to my life to enjoy it more (okay maybe not the regular trips to Paris, then I’ll just be broke!). Breaking the cyclical wait-and-enjoy pattern.

Not even a few months ago I used to send letters like a serial killer murders. I always had an outgoing letter. Now, I’m too tired, I want to get in bed. Why read when I can watch YouTube? Replying to my texts? Yea right. Now life is full of excuses. Am I really tired or am I trying to avoid stepping out of the routine?

Really, in the end, your life is an accumulation of your days. If your days are spent waiting for the next best thing, or waiting for the next time to enjoy life, how do we know it will actually come? Life can just stop at any time–we are not guaranteed anything more than the moment we live in.

So perhaps the secret isn't in waiting for the next big adventure, but in treating each day as an adventure in itself. After all, isn't that why I moved abroad in the first place? To experience life differently, to challenge myself, to grow? The magic of living in France isn't just in the moments of travel and discovery, but in the daily dance of navigating life in a foreign culture, in the small victories of managing daily tasks in a second language, in the quiet moments of reflection as I walk through the historic streets of small towns.

Happy adventuring!

Ahmed

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Things I’m enjoying

In Defence of Food by Michael Pollan - this book, written by an author I really enjoy, takes a deep dive into the history and context of the nutritionist food culture in North America and how we can actually lead more nutritious lives, because the way nutrition is currently studied is limited to the ways science can understand it.

Girl Guides Chocolatey Mint Cookies - luckily my parents bought me two packs of my favourite girl guide cookies just before my trip back home for Thanksgiving and I’ve been enjoying one or two or five every time I open the cupboard.

- a new blog created by one of my dearest mentors, and the lady that sets the standard of how I want to be when I grow up. It’s a compendium of memoirs and recipes from her life, a little window into what she lives.

My aunt’s bread pudding recipe (adapted)

375 g heavy cream

150 g eggs (about 3)

100 g maple syrup (or brown sugar or both)

Vanilla and cinnamon as you enjoy

Pinch of salt

Leftover bread (I prefer croissants or challah - specifically Marysol’s challah recipe)

1 cup blueberries (fresh, frozen, normal, wild, just not dried)

1. Combine the cream, eggs, maple syrup, vanilla, cinnamon, and salt in a bowl and whisk until homogenous.

2. Line a 9x13” baking pan with parchment paper and grease the sides.

3. Cut the bread into bite-size pieces and spread them across the baking pan.

4. Sprinkle the blueberries on top, getting an equal layer across the entire pan.

5. Pour the cream mixture over top, covering all of the bread.

6. Using a piece of plastic wrap, cover the entire pan, pushing the plastic to contact the bread. Place this in the fridge overnight.

7. The next morning, preheat the oven to 325°F/160°C. When the oven is preheated, remove the plastic wrap and slide the pan into the oven and bake for approximately 45 minutes, until a toothpick inserted into the middle comes out damp, not wet, definitely not dry. Look for two or three crumbs attached to the toothpick, more would mean it’s undercooked.

Allow to cool slightly before serving with fresh fruit and maple syrup.

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Paris was quite the trip - an emotional rollercoaster you could say. After waking up at 5 am (or as we would write in France, 05h), my sister landed at the Paris Charles de Gaule airport, and I had yet to board my train to Paris. Four and a half hours later, my train arrived on the other side of Paris. I ran onto the metro (after getting temporarily lost between the train and the metro) and got myself to my favourite square in Paris, Place de la République, where my sister was hanging out at a café near our hotel. After running out to get her, we went to the hotel to drop off my bags and headed back out.

Café les deux gares, Paris 10

The first stop, avoiding the metro, was Café les deux gares. Literally, the ‘cafe of the two train stations’ because of its convenient location between Gare de l’Est and Gare du Nord. For those who know the area, you’re probably thinking why on earth did you bring your sister here on her first trip to Paris? Don’t worry - it gets worse. Since first dining here when I first arrived in France, it quickly became my favourite bistro in Paris. The amazing quality food at amazing prices never fails to please me. I remember my very first meal here, a 25€ lunch plan which had a full octopus tentacle for the main dish. Again, they did not disappoint, this time with a vegetarian option of cauliflower steak. Normally, I’m not a fan of cauliflower steaks but they seemed to have changed my mind this time. I can not for the life of me remember what else was part of the dish, but it both looked and tasted amazing!

Café Louise, Paris 6

Café Louise has become a tradition for me every time I’m in Paris. Alone or with friends, I will always go! Thank you, Carla, for this amazing find and tradition! While uber-expensive, Café Louise just has this vibe to it, a vibe that is oh-so Parisian. The traditional tables and chairs outside are all turned to face the street allowing you to people-watch, the inside has a chic upscale Paris vibe. For me, Café Louise is an essential stop for pre-dinner cocktails, or as we say in France, apéro. They have a small selection of very very good cocktails, each one named after a famous landmark in the area. My favourite is the Saint Sulpice, named after the Saint-Sulpice Church, about a 10-minute walk from Café Louise.

Euphorie bar à vin, Paris 18

I’ve been wanting to go to Euphorie for a while now. Ever since my trip in January 2023 when I went to visit my friend Joyce who had been living temporarily in Paris, and finally, over a year later, I got to eat there. Euphorie is a wine bar with an amazing wine selections and tons of small plates. I think my sister and I shared three or four plates. The servers were very helpful in selecting a wine and explaining all of the dishes, even helped me translate things into English for my sister! A place to go to again, but with someone who enjoys wine more than my sister - I guess you could say we have different alcoholic tendencies…

Du Pain et des Idées, Paris 10

Another classic for me in Paris, in my favourite area. When I have a choice, I will always opt to stay in the 10th arrondissement. Place de la République, Canal Saint-Martin, Rue de Lancry (the most lively restaurant-filled road that I first stayed on when I arrived), the area around Gare du Nord for all my Indian grocery needs - it’s just my favourite part of Paris! One of my favourite things to do in Paris in the morning is to stop at Du Pain et des Idées to grab a quick breakfast, either a chocolate-pistachio snail or a praline (caramel and nuts) snail and sit along the Canal Saint-Martin people-watching and enjoying my breakfast. Du Pain et des Idées is a classic example of a high-end neighbourhood bakery in Paris, bread being sold by the kilo, warm pain aux raisins available until they are sold out, and a coffee pick-up window.

Brasserie Martin, Paris 11

A trip to Paris is not complete without tasting some of the classics, onion soup, snails, and a croque. To ensure my sister had the full experience, we went to Brasserie Martin, a classic French brasserie not too far from our hotel. We got there at 11:45 and of course, in classic French style, they refused to seat us until noon, when lunch service starts. Though I don’t blame them, I would have been equally as annoyed. Speaking of annoyed, the lady seated beside us we extremely annoyed. Her company was not on time; from what I gathered as she was on the phone, the person who was supposed to join her was lost in the area and this lady refused to leave to help her, just simply telling her to ask someone for directions or to use her phone to find her way here. On our way out we passed a lady who was running in panting looking like she was in a rush, we assumed it was this lady’s company for the afternoon. Anyhow, at Brasserie Martin, we had the obligatory onion soup (though I felt the onions were half raw 😖), snails (though they came without the shell ???), and my sister wanted a classic croque-monsieur, though they were all out - and I do not remember what else was ordered.

Classic Tourist Activities in Paris

Of course, I had to take my sister for the obligatory tourist walk - the Louvre pyramid, Jardin de Tuileries, Place de la Concorde, Arc de Triomphe, and the Champs de Mars with a quick walk over to Terrace Trocadéro. I think, in my humble opinion, that the Arc de Triomphe is so much more worth it than the Eiffel Tower. I say that without ever having been up the Eiffel Tower. But, the Arc de Triomphe is just something completely different. The Arc is the centre of a ton of famous landmarks in Paris. From the top of the Arc, you can see the Eiffel Tower, the Louvre, Sacré-Coeur, Notre-Dame, Tour Montparnasse, Centre Pompidou, and so many more! After a quick break at the hotel, we went back out to Montmartre for sunset. Of course, a classic is to sit on the stairs in front of the Sacré-Coeur Basilica and listen to the live music from the buskers, sing along, and buy a beer from the random guy handing out beers (I totally did not do that, but if you want to, no one will stop you!). This is where it all went downhill.

I thought, oh since we’re going to Strasbourg-Saint Denis, might as well catch a direct metro from Barbes, instead of two or three connections from Anvers or Abbesses. If you know the slightest bit about Paris, you know you do NOT take a visitor to Barbes. I thought, she lives in Toronto, she knows what to watch out for pickpockets and preparing to take the metro when walking through weird parts of town. Apparently, I was wrong, and I should have stayed right behind her at all times, but her phone was stolen right out of her hand going through the turnstiles getting into the metro. Luckily she noticed right away and we were able to lock her phone using my phone and sporadically track its location as the thief turned on and off airplane mode waiting for us to wipe the phone remotely.

Sur Mer, Paris 10

After a stop at a cell phone shop that was miraculously open at 8:45 pm on a random weekday, we finally got to my favourite restaurant in Paris, Sur Mer. A very cosy and intimate seafood restaurant serving up only the freshest fish possible. The thing I love most about Sur Mer is that the menu is never the same - ever. The menu will change based on what was available that day and what the chef-owner decides to whip up. The tiny place only has space for two or three in the open kitchen, which is also the bar, and the place to pay for your dinner. This place never disappoints, we were evidently not in great spirits at that time.

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Only a month after, I embarked on a trip to the Netherlands, with stops in Amsterdam, Utrecht, and Amersfoort. This is a trip I’d be happy to replicate again and think I might do that at some point in the future.

Amstelpark, Amsterdam-Zuid

After almost 10 hours of travel, I finally go to my hotel in the south of Amsterdam, after having gotten lost in the metro station, because I feel like that is a necessary thing to do in a new city. I got to my hotel, checked in, had the obligatory conversation about the hotel I work at, what the hotel does and does not provide colleague discounts on (unfortunately not the restaurant), and headed up to not drop dead in my bed. To prevent premature sleep, I decided to head to the park with my book. Conveniently across the street from my hotel, the Amstelpark is a really nice park in the city, though you can still hear the cars from the highway. I must say, this park is HUGE - there is mini golf, a miniature train, a petting farm, a restaurant and café, galleries, and still more I can’t think of.

Old Amsterdam Cheese Store, Amsterdam Centrum

Of course, I had to go for a cheese tasting in Amsterdam. I had to get this done before I saw my friend because she unfortunately does not like cheese, despite being Dutch. This was very enjoyable - was it because of the five glasses of wine at 11 am? Noooo, not at all! We got to taste five of their signature and popular cheeses - I really enjoyed the older ones. Aside from the cheeses, the experience itself was very interesting. There were only three groups, me on my own, a couple from Hungary, and a group of 6 or 8 friends from Nice and its area. The person leading the session was actually from Milan — this allowed for a cool experience, with personalities from all around Europe.

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Amsterdam Tulip Museum, Amsterdam Jordaan

I think this was my favourite museum of the trip. Tulips are my favourite flowers and when I walked past this museum, I immediately decided no matter how much it cost, I was going in. Luckily, it was only 5€, so it didn’t hurt at all. I think it was the smallest museum I’ve ever been to, crammed into the basement of a store, and had so much information to take in. I enjoyed how they were not afraid to give the whole story of the tulip, how it originates from central Asia, creeping into China and southern Russia, and the Black and Caspian seas. The museum took us on a journey of how the tulip was first discovered, celebrated in the Ottoman Empire, and slowly made its way to central Europe.

Van Gogh Museum, Amsterdam Museumwartier

The Van Gogh Museum was everything you would expect of it - amazing art, lots and lots of gift shops within the museum (even a bookstore), and lots and lots of people. Something I remember more than the art itself was the random man giving a group a tour of the museum. The museum doesn’t offer tours themselves, just audio guides for you to rent. On Airbnb and Booking.com there are plenty of people that allow you to book a day at the museum with them. We tried to escape him, avoid him and his loud mouth telling us bits about Vincent’s life that I would have preferred not knowing, though every time we thought we escaped him, the scent of his BO was back, so logically, we moved through a section of the museum very very fast and then caught up with a school field trip…

De Boot Hap & Tap, Amersfoort

Laura’s aunt owns this amazing restaurant that is just so good. The principles of the restaurant are zero/low waste and sustainability. All of their furnishings are second-hand or reused - the glasses were the bottoms of wine bottles, the same for flower vases and water jugs. Laura tells me that often on busy days, they will run out of dishes to prevent over-purchasing and waste if things go bad. My favourite part of the menu is the surprise multi-course meal. You can purchase a meal, either 3, 4, or 5 courses, and every course will be a surprise from the kitchen based on what food they have available at that time. We chose to get a 3-course surprise meal, which was insane! A salad with some really cool East Asian-inspired flavours, a ribeye steak (!!) and a peach dessert, really it was amazing and I would go there again without hesitation!

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Traditional Food at the Utrecht Centrum Market

I think this was my favourite part of it all! Eating all the fried food that totally didn’t make me sick afterwards! I remember in high school for one of my culinary classes, we had a unit all about donuts and fried foods. The final assignment of the unit included pulling out a country from a hat and we had to make a donut or donut-like thing from that country. I pulled out the Netherlands (oh the foreshadowing 6+ years ago) and so of course I made oliebollen! All these years later, I found out that the recipe I found was totally unauthentic, even though I had to use Google Translate to translate it from Dutch. Oliebollen does not have apples in it, just dried round fruits (raisins, cranberries, currants, etc), and also, they are about the size of a fist, not a Timbit. Regardless, it was amazing, aside from choking on the icing sugar - which I think is an obligatory part of eating them for New Year’s. We also had stroopwafels, poffertjes, kibbeling (fried fish), and tompouce (basically a Dutch millefeuille with a pink icing on top). The night before, Laura also introduced me to brood met hagelslag, bread with butter and chocolate sprinkles (they literally have a whole section of the store with various types and sizes of chocolate sprinkles). I totally didn’t bring a box of these back with me and definitely am not eating a slice of bread with chocolate sprinkles right now.

Downey’s Coffee and Tea, Amersfoort

Everywhere you went to in the Netherlands had High Tea (the fact that high tea is really dinner and not afternoon tea doesn’t need to be spoken about, but the high tea was actually afternoon tea). I love a good afternoon tea! I think in all of my time in the Netherlands, I probably had 2 or 3 high teas. My favourite was at Downey’s. We sat there for like 2 or 3 hours, just talking, eating, and drinking tea. When we got there, they told us, oh high tea includes unlimited tea bags and teapot refills - that was a bad thing to say to Laura and I, who both love tea and drink multiple cups a day. I also really enjoyed how Downey’s is a café that hires people with Down Syndrome, hence its name. All of the servers had Down Syndrome, and the café ensured that the servers all had the support and tools they needed to be independent in their work. This is also another place I would go to again, especially for the unlimited tea!

Rather than putting all my efforts into work, I’m also taking time to enjoy the summer, or rather, spring, weather of Normandy - a measly 18° on an average day (with the wind and lack of sun it feels more like 12°). That being said, the views from one of the windows of my apartment are amazing at sunset. On some weekdays, the music school across the street opens their windows for classes, so I can hear the piano or guitar playing in the background as I watch the sunset and sip on my wine.

I also had a 6-month stint helping with communications of my religious centre in France, and I quickly learned that was not something I wanted to go back to doing. As much as I enjoyed it, it made my life much more fast-paced and took time away from what mattered to me the most. Now I’m back to relearning how to live life when something is not taking up 80% of my at-home waking hours. It’s so weird coming home and having nothing to do, nothing urgent that needs to be finished, or meetings that require attending. Now, I come home and drink wine, watch some YouTube or read a book before eating dinner and then enjoy tea from my local tea and coffee shop.

One thing that I’ve picked up doing is writing letters. I’ve had some penpals for a while now but recently came across some more. Being penpals is actually really fun! I’ve made quite a few amazing connections with some penpals and even had the chance to meet a few over the past few years (hi Laura, I know you’re reading this!). This pastime is helping me enjoy this new slow life - it forces me to sit down, get off my phone, and write something with a pen and on paper, also forces me to practise my cursive! I think this whole ritual you could say started not long after I started my Bachelor’s degree when I would send postcards back and forth with one of my best friends in Colorado. This slowly turned into full-length letters and now is a regular occurrence, with 6 penpals spread across Europe and North America.

Something that has luckily been keeping me busy is an online part-time Master’s degree with Rome Business School I started in April. So far, the courses are super interesting and I enjoy (half of) the professors’ enthusiasm and lectures. I’m very happy with my decision to enrol in this Masters. Not only will it possibly give me a path to a more secure type of residence permit, but also allow me to solidify my theoretical knowledge for some projects I have in the long term future. One of my professors, the program director, Camilla Carrega Bertolini, is the most enthusiastic professor I have ever had and is so incredibly knowledgeable in the industry. I’ve had a virtual meeting with her once, and look forward to having another with her soon!

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Now that I’m back in Normandy for the summer after a few travels to Paris and the Netherlands (more on this coming soon!) I’m falling back into savings mode. I want to come back to Ottawa for a vacation soon, and also want to go for a short vacation right after the summer ends, possibly to London, Belgium, or Germany, who knows! Recently my employer made the switch from banking overtime to monthly payouts, and I asked for mine to continue to be banked so that I can take an extra week off, because I’ve meticulously planned all my 28 days of vacation for 2024 (assuming I can go to Canada for 2 weeks this fall, which is still to be determined) and will have none left on December 31, 2024. Luckily after my one-year anniversary at Les Cures Marines, I’ll start accruing my statutory holidays, meaning I’ll have more days to use for travel! Future travels include Paris and south of France in January, IIHF Womens’ World Championship in a small town in Czechia with a two-day trip to Prague in April, my possible graduation ceremony in Rome, a trip to Ottawa in October 2025 for the wedding of a very dear friend, and I’m sure I’ll add somewhere else in there too!

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Anyhow, that’s it for today! Next time you hear from me you’ll hear about my recent travels and some plans for future travels. Until next time, happy adventuring!

Some things I’ve been enjoying recently

• My clafoutis recipe is perfect at this time of the year since it is prime cherry season - I’ve been making it every week at home (especially the week I found cherries for 5€/kg at the market)

• My first recipe journal is almost full! It’s barely been 6 months and I’ve maxed out all of my pages in my journal - good thing I keep a couple on hand with me at all times :)

• I have started reading the book La Joie de vivre by Emilie Zola, which is a classic French book. I decided to start reading this after a visit to the Van Gogh Museum in Amsterdam in which he included the book in one of his paintings - access the book in French or English

• Since my sister came to visit me in May, I got her to bring me back my favourite tea from Canada, the Murchies Afternoon Blend, a classic from the 130-year-old tea and coffee store in British Columbia

Les Cures Marines feels like more than a workplace; like a creative haven that aligns with my core values. The team's commitment to using local and sustainable products has been a refreshing change. From flour to fruits, everything is sourced locally, allowing me to explore the unique terroir of the Calvados department and Normandy region.

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One of the amazing changes at Les Cures Marines is the bi-monthly menu transformation. Unlike my former workplace, where the menu changes every 3-4 months, here, innovation is a constant factor. This approach allows us to showcase the best seasonal fruits and vegetables.

The regular updates of the menu and inclusion of everyone’s ideas in the menu have allowed me to be included in the dessert menu for the current and next menus. Currently, on the menu, I developed the Paris-Trouville, a local take on the classic Paris-Brest, showcasing a blend of flavours with a choux ring, cinnamon craquelin, reduced apple butter, and praliné mousseline.

Not long after my arrival, I introduced masala chai to my chef, which he adored! Of course, though, who could not? He loved the mix of spices, and how I put cardamom at the centre of it all.

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Looking ahead to the February menu, my apple cake takes inspiration from masala chai, introducing cardamom and other spices to create a unique experience (at least for the French). It's a slice of classic apple cake filled with cream cheese icing, apple cardamom gel, maple granola, and ginger-white chocolate ice cream.

The journey ahead promises to be an adventure of flavours, a celebration of sustainability, and a testament to the joy of crafting desserts that resonate with the heart and soul. I’m so happy to have taken on this new job

Happy adventuring,

Ahmed

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I’m really enjoying my new job at Les Cures Marines Hotel Thalasso & Spa. It’s only been three weeks, and they’re already letting me add my own creations to the menu! My famous scones are now a seasonal breakfast item, and I’ve got a dessert being added to the December menu at the restaurant. More on that next month.

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I’m also really enjoying my new town. Trouville-sur-Mer is a great little town that actually has life under the age of 80! Where I was last, all the people my own age worked at the same hotel as me. While in Trouville-sur-Mer, there still is a large ageing population, but there are also plenty of young people. There’s also a plethora of stores and businesses less than a 5 minutes walk from my apartment. In 5 minutes, I can walk to a small grocery store; in 2 minutes, I can walk to a larger grocery store, both of which close at 8 pm, and not 6 pm! Instead of trekking on the bus for an hour to see an optician, I can now walk down the main boulevard to the optician or the bank. It is wonderful!

I’ve also been keeping quite busy with some projects on the side! An England-based academic journal recently published my first case study. In this case, I study the history of Aboriginal economic oppression in Canada and how the Osoyoos Indian Band overcame these obstacles to become one of the most prosperous bands in the country. You can read more about the case or download it from the CABI Digital Library. I’ve also launched a product - a recipe journal. The journal is modelled exactly like how I write my recipes in a professional environment. It’s a small book holding just enough recipes to be able to take those most important ones with you wherever you go. I use it as a notebook to take down recipes and notes before I get a chance to add them to my recipe manager app. I bring this notebook with me practically everywhere I go in case I come across some form of inspiration or an idea of a recipe. You can get your own copy of the journal here.

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I’m very happy that I have an employer that is supportive of my goals and allows me to take the time to do what I enjoy. They are asking me to make some desserts and pastries from North America that would fit their needs or just for them to try. This welcoming atmosphere was also something I experienced in my interview back in August. Everyone’s curiosity, eagerness, and openness were portrayed in the interview and definitely transferred to the workplace. Thinking back to the interview, one word that was mentioned that I really liked was savoir-être. This was the first time I heard this word. Of course, I knew savoir-faire already, but savoir-être, what on earth could ‘know-being’ mean?

We all know what savoir-faire is—know-how. But we hear less about the other savoirs, savoir and savoir-être. In the simplest of terms, savoir is knowledge, savoir-faire is know-how, and savoir-être is your attitudes or frame of mind. Some characteristics that are central to savoir-être are empathy, creativity, audacity, motivation, vision, and curiosity.

You could say that my savoir-être has never changed. Or rather, the intensity of it has never changed. The different characteristics, or skills, of it have evolved through the years, but the intensity has always remained constant. I’ve had different amounts of empathy, creativity, audacity, motivation, vision, and curiosity throughout my life. I have my own way of being.

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Part of why I came to France was to gain more savoir-faire, to learn how the French do things. I’ve definitely been learning this and am very happy with the progress made. I’ve found, though, that I can’t just do things the French way. Neither can I do things the North American way. I have a unique skill set and experiences from both Canada and France, which allows me to pull experience from both places and apply a technique between the two. You could say that I’m developing my own style of savoir-faire. I’m still defining my style of pastry and desserts. I know what I like, but I am still finding how I want to execute it.

More to come on my upcoming adventures next month!

Happy adventuring,

Ahmed

Fluffy Scones

Ingredients

• 430 g all-purpose flour

• 25 g baking powder

• 50 g sugar

• 5 g salt

• 225 g butter (cold)

• 250 g buttermilk

• 100 g raisins

• zest of one orange

• 1 egg

Method

Preheat the oven to 350°F.

1. In a mixing bowl, combine the flour, baking powder, sugar, and salt. Mix to combine. Add the raisins and orange zest and mix again.

2. Using the large holes of a cheesegrater, grate the cold butter into the dry ingredients. Once all of the butter is grated, mix the butter with the dry ingredients until all of the butter is covered in flour but not mixed in.

3. Add the buttermilk and mix with a spoon until it combines into a rough dough. There might be some flour left over.

4. Transfer the dough to a work surface. Divide the dough into four pieces and stack these pieces on top of each other. Using your hands, pat this mound into a disc using a downward motion.

5. Once a disc has formed, form the disc into a 6” diameter and approximately 1-2” height. Using a sharp knife, cut the disc into 8 wedges.

6. Carefully transfer the wedges to a parchment-lined baking sheet. In a separate bowl, beat the egg. Using a brush, brush the beaten egg on top of all of the wedges.

7. Bake this in the preheated oven for 12-15 minutes. The bottom of the scones should be lightly brown, the edges golden, and when pressed down in the middle, the scone should not have any give and should maintain its shape.

I always make sure to live my life authentically, filter-free, and something I’d be proud to look back on. This includes having my values as the core of everything I do. The past year has been a weird one for me. I couldn’t say that my values have been applied everywhere in my life, and I’m making decisions based on a way to guarantee my residency in France rather than my values. Over the summer, I forced this to change. I started looking for a new job in a larger town where I could live independently, work in a team that shares my values in the kitchen of local and sustainable ingredients, and use traditional methods to apply in a modern context.

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I’m excited to start my new job in less than a week's time and to move away in one week to start a new start with an environment that I feel safe and welcome in. Of course, it may not be as true as it seems, but I’m in desperate need of a change and my own space.

Long before my arrival in my new city, Trouville-sur-Mer, the team at my new workplace have been wonderful and very helpful. My first interaction with them over Teams was very pleasant. The pastry chef expressed his desire to use as many local and sustainable products as possible. It took him over a year to find as many local producers, and he is still not done trying to find more. Everything down to the flour is sourced locally. This makes me so very excited to start and use all of these local products and get to know the local terroir.

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Another big change about my new workplace that I enjoy is the changing menu. At my former hotel, the menu would change every 3-4 months. Where I am now, the menu changes every month. This allows the chef and pastry chef to showcase the best fruits and vegetables of the moment. While at my former workplace, the menu would often change to reflect the season, we still barely used fresh ingredients, using mostly frozen fruits and purees. While this is standard for hotels and large production facilities, it doesn’t make them stand out.

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I’ve also been enjoying living in an actual city. Le Conquet, where I was before, is a very small village on the west coast. That’s it. There isn’t much there, just the hotel, a few other small hotels, and that’s it. There is only one store (more like a corner store), one church, and city hall. That is pretty much the village tour. My former coworkers would joke that Trouville-sur-Mer is a trou, a hole; there is nothing here. Trouville is known to be a weekend getaway for Parisians, being so close to Paris, only 2h30 by train or car. But in reality, it’s a city in itself, full of restaurants, cafes, social services, a post office (which Le Conquet lost a couple of months before my arrival), and even tourist boat tours. It’s currently 19:30, and I just got back from the store to pick up some salt, only 5 minutes away from my apartment. The only store in Le Conquet closes at 19:15 and was 10 minutes away from where I was staying, so I am jumping up and down just in excitement of this.

Before leaving the Saite-Barbe hotel in Le Conquet, I also made a few really cool desserts. I introduced the pumpkin pie cheesecake as a weekly dessert. While it was well loved, all of the staff said that there’s too much cinnamon and you can’t taste the pumpkin, though that’s what a pumpkin pie is… Anywho, I also made a tropical tart. This was really fun to make. It was based on a recipe from pastry school, with a almond tart shell and a succès sponge (sponge based on egg whites with almond powder and a bit of flour). To really up the tropical feel, I dusted the succès sponge with grated coconut, and replaced a gelled vanilla cream with a gelled coconut cream. On top was a mango compote. I also added a passion fruit whipped ganache and a small dice of pineapple. This tart was very well received and staff were complementing the design of it as well. I quite enjoyed making this!

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Small changes in life can make a difference, but the biggest changes are the ones that bring hope and new beginnings. I’m very excited for this new start at the Cures Marines Thalaso Hotel. I’ll keep you updated and we’ll keep in touch.

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Happy adventuring,

Ahmed

This summer, I’ve been trying to read more. I’ve read two books and part way through my third. I’ve found that reading and keeping in touch with friends in different time zones is hard. Either my attention span is too short, or I need to learn how to multitask. Regardless, I thought I would share some of my recent reads with you:

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• Vie due thé, esprit du thé (en: The Japanese Way of Tea) by Soshitu Sen - This book was really interesting! The book, originally written by the 15th-generation tea master in Japan, explores his interpretation of the seven rules of tea: make a satisfying bowl of tea, boil the water correctly, evoke a sense of coolness in the summer and a sense of warmth in the winter, arrange flowers as they would appear in nature, be prepared ahead of time, prepare for the rain, and treat guests with utmost dignity.

• Will Write for Food by Dianne Jacobs - A book all about writing about food, how to become better at it, how to make money from it, how to enjoy it, and how to eat it. It’s been a vital resource for me in the secret project I’m working on (hint hint) and a book I often reference even outside of this secret project.

• Une vie de goûts et de passion (en: Good Taste: A Life of Food and Passion) by Alain Ducasse - The namesake of my most recent alma matter, I felt it necessary to purchase this book. I bought the book while still in pastry school but only recently started reading it. I’m not yet (or close to) done, but I’m excited to continue reading this.

While it hasn’t been an eventful summer, I have been enjoying my time in the kitchen. I’ve been trying new recipes and flavour combinations. One thing that I love about this job is that I have the opportunity to make the weekly dessert special every once in a while. One that I recently made was something really out of my comfort zone. I always try to make a dessert with an ingredient that I don’t particularly enjoy every once in a while. I find learning how to use an ingredient you don’t enjoy is important. I never know when the next client can come around the corner asking for a pastry with an ingredient I hate in the middle of it.

The dessert I recently made was really interesting. I had taken a lime-infused sugar cookie as my base and infused a milk chocolate cream with lapsong souchong. Lapsang souchong is a smoked black tea, so you get a really smoky taste aroma, mixed with the sweet and light milk chocolate, is a nice pairing. I served this with a mixed berry sorbet, adding a bit of acidity to counter the smokiness of the tea. While I don’t particularly enjoy anything smoked, I found the dessert to be quite balanced and enjoyable. It’s always important to challenge yourself to do something a bit out of your comfort zone occasionally.

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In August, I had the chance to take a few days off for my birthday, and I’m so happy I did. I returned to my favourite city in France, Lyon. Making a return to Lyon was an amazing break for me. I needed a chance to breathe away from Bretagne and enjoy city vibes. Taking the metro for the first time since March felt amazing! Paying by card for a purchase under 5€, revolutionary!! A close friend from Geneva joined me for my time in Lyon and a one-night trip to Paris. Of course, there was plenty of food, long conversations, and memories made. And can’t forget the shopping that happened in Paris!

My favourite arrondissement in Lyon is the first, or le premier. This is where city hall is located, just across the Saône from the old city. The first is a mix of old and new architecture, various types of stores and businesses, and right in the middle of Lyon. City Hall, what I would say is my favourite building in all of France, is a majestic and grand building with gold plated ornaments and crests of the Republic and of the city, towering over the Place des Terreaux. Place des Terreaux is a massive square that feels so small with the amazing sense of community that exists in Lyon. Opposed to the capital city, the Lyonnais are warm and inviting. Every time I pass by city hall in the evening, there is almost always a band playing live music in front of the main entrance, with people laughing and dancing in front of them.

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Of course, my trip to Lyon and Paris was filled with amazing food and restaurants, most of which were new finds. A few of the highlights are (in no particular order):

• Diploid, Lyon 1 - Diploid is quite possibly my favourite brunch restaurant in France. First introduced to me by my good friend from pastry school, a trip to Lyon is never complete without a trip to Diploid. My favourite brunch item is, for sure, the smoked trout pancakes, served with a poached egg and a yogurt sauce. Often, I have one or two pancakes left and always ask for some maple syrup on the side.

• M Restaurant, Lyon 6 - M Restaurant is a Michelin-recognised restaurant. While not holding any stars, it does have a Bib Gourmand, similar to an honourable mention. The food was well-balanced, refined, and soooo good! The entrée (appetizer) really stood out to me, rabbit rillettes. Similar to duck confit, rillette is a shredded version of confit. The rabbit just melted away, and was accompanied by an acidic salad.

• Blanca, Paris 11 - A golden find I came across while reading David Lebovitz’s newsletter. Started by an Argentinian brother-sister duo, Blanca was an amazing experience. To be honest, I’m salivating writing about this restaurant. A very small menu comprising three steaks, each at its own length of dry ageing, is very well executed, along with the dining experience.

In other news, I’m looking for recipe testers! I’m looking for some help to test some recipes that will be included in my secret project. If you want to be a recipe tester, head to this link to learn more and submit your name!

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Until next time, happy adventuring,

Ahmed

It’s been just a few days more than 10 months since my arrival in France and 4 months since my arrival in Bretagne. I’ve definitely gotten used to the French lifestyle and its never-ending administrative headaches, though I can’t seem to get used to Bretagne. It’s probably because I live in such a small village and the nearest city I frequent isn’t as big as I hoped. But this hasn’t stopped me from creating my own small community. There’s a handful of cafes and restaurants that I frequent in Brest. This has allowed me to get to know the owners and have meaningful interactions with them. One (of the few) thing(s) that I like about Brest is the number of like-minded people around me.

The owner of one of the cafes I frequent, Kafe Kanggui, has become a good friend. Lien is from Manipur, India and created Kafe Kanggui to bring flavours from his home to Brest while also being a community hub for events and gatherings. His cafe has a large following of regulars, and it feels like he knows each and every one of them. I aspire for my future cafe to be like this, with quality handmade pastries and bread. Lien is also the creator and head of a non-profit based in England, Kanggui HOPE. This is also something I’d like to do in the future, a non-profit (possibly a charity) to benefit at-risk and underrepresented youth in east African countries to access quality education. One day 🤞

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I’ve been working on completing the case study I’ve been working on with my professor from Algonquin College for some time now. We are almost at the editing stage, just trying to find some last details about the local tourism sector and how it has been positively impacted by the First Nation we are writing about. I’ve also been making some headway on my secret project - a special newsletter will be coming on that subject soon!

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My birthday is coming up in two months, and I can’t wait, because I booked a short trip to Lyon. Lyon holds a special place n my heart because it was the first large city in France I lived close to. It’s far superior to Brest for so many reasons. The only thing Brest can beat Lyon at is the number of vegetarian restaurants. I often equate Lyon with the Montreal of France, mystical architecture, amazing food, lots of young people, and the ability to find anything you need, including all-beef cured sausages - I am so excited! Due to Brest’s remoteness, I will have to fly to Lyon, but that won’t stop me from getting straight to the city centre upon my arrival. I’ve started planning out what boulangeries I want to visit and what friends I’m going to see - I’m counting down the days, even though there are still two whole months left.

Work has been going well, and we are starting to get into the summer season, so things are picking up. We’ve had quite a few weddings the past month and complete hotel privatisation for a global conference this week. The restaurant menu also changed last week, so I’ve been learning all the parts of the new menu - well, I’ve already learned it, just trying my hardest to remember to put the extra small little shreds of apricot seeds on the plate. I am absolutely loving the new dessert menu with the mini popsicle, apricot dessert, and the baba au bourbon. I’ve also had the opportunity to make a few of my own desserts. My ‘American-style’ cookies have become a favourite among the staff. I also made a weekly dessert a couple of weeks ago. It was a small version of this tart, which I made on repeat last summer. I used poached rhubarb that I poached with cardamom and oranges. I served this with some leftover strawberry rhubarb sorbet from Mother’s Day (which was in June in France).

While I’m really enjoying my time here and super happy to get my residency permit, one thing has really been taking me aback recently. That is the peoples’ ideas of Indigenous people. June being National Indigenous History Month, and June 21 being National Indigenous Peoples Day just amplifies these feelings for me. The French speak about colonisation as a source of pride, which they are proud of today. They seem to be disconnected from the negative effects of colonisation. I’m not sure if they don’t know or if they don’t understand how the Catholic Church and the French Kingdom/Empire/State/Republic massively contributed to the mass murder and assimilation of the Indigenous people not only in Canada but all over the world. I’m seeing this still today, people being racist, and using derogatory words for Indigenous people in everything from conversations to restaurant menus. I encourage all to seek out education to learn about Indigenous people and the impacts colocalization has had on them.

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Yesterday, I was supposed to go to a staff BBQ and bring a classic Quebecois maple cake with me, but I slept through the entire day and all the possible rides to the BBQ. I decided at 13h (1:00 pm for all you using the 12 hour clock) to take a nap and set an alarm for 14h30 to head to the store to buy some ingredients for the cake. I slept all the way through until the alarm and into the evening. I only woke up when the sous chef called me asking where I was and if I was ok - that’s when I realised my mistake… Then I proceeded to stay awake until 5h because I couldn’t fall asleep that night. I was so disappointed in myself, but also thankful I didn’t spend a lot of my precious maple syrup I had. Since I didn’t get a chance to even make the cake, I thought I would share the recipe with you so you can at least make it and enjoy it on my behalf. So while that’s it for the updates, I hope you enjoy this recipe for something so wildly Canadian!

Happy adventuring,

Ahmed

Ahmed J

Ahmed J on Instagram: “No better way to celebrate Canada Day other than a true Canadian dessert 🇨🇦🎊 Happy Canada Day!!⠀
🥄 Pouding chômeur with strawberry compote⠀
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#pudding #pouding #chomeur #poudingchomeur #canada #🇨🇦 #canadaday”

July 1, 2020

Pouding Chômeur

Makes 1 9x9” cake pan

I’m not quite sure where I got this recipe from, but I’ve changed a few things and the proportion, as pouding chômeur is characteristically very sweet and so I lowered the amount of sugar making it a bit more tolerable to the teeth

Sauce

• 240 g pure maple syrup

• 150 g brown sugar

• 180 g heavy cream

• 60 g butter

• 1 tbsp pure vanilla extract

• 1/4 tsp salt

Combine all the ingredients in a saucepan. Bring to a boil and then remove from heat, set aside.

Cake

• 120 g butter

• 150 g sugar

• 2 large eggs

• 180 g buttermilk

• 1 tbsp pure vanilla extract

• 190 g all-purpose flour

• 30 g cornstarch

• 2 tsp baking powder

• 1/2 tsp salt

In the bowl of a stand mixer, or in a bowl, cream together the butter and sugar until light and fluffy. Add the eggs, one at a time, adding the next after the previous one has been fully incorporated. In another bowl or vessel, mix together the buttermilk and vanilla. In another bowl, combine the flour, cornstarch, baking powder, and salt. Add 1/3 of the flour mix and 1/3 of the buttermilk mix to the butter mix. Mix to combine and then add 1/2 of the remaining of each to the butter mix. Mix to combine before combining the rest. Mix until just combined. Pour the cake batter into a well-greased 9x9” baking pan. Using a large spoon, carefully spoon the maple sauce on top of the cake batter, making sure to not mix the two. Place the pan on the middle rack of an oven preheated to 325ºF/160ºC convection or 350ºF/180ºC without fan. Bake for 45 minutes to 1 hour, until a toothpick inserted in the middle comes out with a few crumbs. Allow to slightly cool and serve warm with vanilla ice cream.

This comes with a massive amount of paperwork, well, at least in France. Today, I spent about 1 hour and 45 minutes signing papers at the bank to open an account with a physical bank. I submitted my very first taxes in France, by pen and paper (all 23 pages), and am part of the social security system here as well. I also have a massive binder full of paperwork for all this.

Compare this to my paperwork from Canada: I have my birth certificate, passport, driver’s licence and my Ontario Health Card (which is no longer valid). It fits in one zippy bag. Yes, there are my taxes and all, but that’s done online, and I can just save a PDF, it’s not like here, where I have to print it and physically sign it.

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Now that the process is complete for my residency in France, along with my residency card on its way (hopefully 🤞), that means I have to start wrapping up things in Canada. Closing certain bank accounts, transferring to other accounts, declaring non-residency status to banks and the CRA, and placing my TFSA on hold. This also includes exchanging my Ontario driver’s licence for a French one, which is proving to be harder than expected. Because Ontario’s systems are so old, I can not request the required documents online; I have to send a fax (a fax!!) to the Ministry of Transportation to request the documents. I tried; hopefully, they got the fax. If not, someone back home will have to go to a ServiceOntario location to request it on my behalf.

Move to France, they said, it‘ll be fun and amazing for your career! It sure is, but no one told me about the paperwork. Sure, the TikToks and Reels all make fun of France for their love of paperwork, but I didn’t expect it to actually be this much. But we can put that aside for now.

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I’ve been busy working on some projects during my off hours and days from work. Since November, I have been working on a case study with a professor from my alma mater. After a four-month hiatus on that project, I’ve come back to it and reviewed it with my professor. It is so close to being done, and it will get done soon. Researching and writing about how a First Nation band in British Columbia has overcome a lot of the barriers set forth in the Indian Act, 1876 to create prosperity for their Nation using the Okanagan’s wine culture and leveraging agritourism. The Nation I’m writing about recently bought back the land that was stolen from them by a colonialist commission created by the provincial and federal governments in 1913, which is really inspiring.

I’m also still actively working on the family cookbook I wrote about last time. I’m back to collecting more recipes to transcribe. This time, it’s a bit harder doing this from 5000 km away, relying on others to get me the exact recipe I’m thinking of. One of those recipes is my mom’s double chocolate cupcake recipe from when I was in elementary school. I have so many memories of this recipe, yet I somehow never recorded it. When I was growing up in elementary school, this was the default recipe my mom would make for any party, school potluck, or just for lunch. These cupcakes would appear at all of my school potlucks, and so they became very much enjoyed by my classmates. I have vivid memories from elementary school when one of my classmates, with whom I had graduated high school, would beg me to trade her snacks for these cupcakes whenever my mom made them. I would always refuse, even though my parents would never buy me the Dunkaroos, Gushers, or Scooby snack gummies she was offering.

I’ve also been spending quite some time reading one of ’s books, Will Write for Food, a guide all around writing about food. This book is helping me with this top-secret project I’m working on. I hope to be able to talk a little more about this project in the next newsletter, but we shall see about that.

I’ve also been virtually enjoying the Canadian Tulip Festival via Instagram. Tulips are my favourite flower, and the fact that my hometown has an annual festival just makes me so happy. My hope is that next year I’ll be able to make it home to enjoy the tulip festival!

Ottawa Tourism

Ottawa Tourism on Instagram: “Happy Victoria Day everyone! 😀 ⁣
⁣
On @ncc_ccn Weekend Bikedays, you can walk, cycle, in-line skate, use a stroller, or a mobility device over approximately 20 km of parkways available for active use from May to October along the Ottawa River and enjoy the beauty of the National Capital Region on car-free roads!⁣ 🚲 ⁣
Tag someone who you’d like to share these incredible views with below and don’t miss the @cdntulipfest Closing Ceremony Torchlight Vigil tonight at 9:45 pm. 🌷 🌷 🌷 🌷 ⁣
⁣
📷 ⁣
🌷@nori832
🌷@annief_photographie
🌷@patburilliphotos⁣
🌷@nithinbekal
🌷@walking_with_myfujicam⁣
⁣
#MyOttawa #VictoriaDay #cdntulipfest #Canada #tulips #ExploreOntario #OttawaOntario #OttawaCanada #OntarioAdventures”

May 22, 2023

Until next time, happy adventuring!

Ahmed

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Dianne Jacob's Newsletter

Preserving My Family's Food Culture

In last month’s newsletter, How a People’s Food Culture Disappears, I wrote about my family’s Iraqi-Jewish foods and that I thought The New York Times mis-identified on…

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3 years ago · 17 likes · 5 comments · Dianne Jacob

This project I’m working on is a family cookbook with recipes from all immediate family members. This came about during my trip back home, where I was hit in the face by the poor health of some family members, all of whom are some of the most central cooks of the family. I’ve wanted to do this project for ages but never had the motivation or time to transcribe or re-type over 500 recipes from all the cooks in the immediate family (grandparents, parents, aunt and uncle, and cousins plus myself). I’ve only added recipes from my mom and grandma, with a handful from my aunt, leaving me with 293 recipes and counting. I’ve barely touched my aunt’s recipe manager app, with over 500 recipes (!!), so the next few weeks will be pretty full, just typing out recipes into the publishing platform to get these recipes into a bound format, with all the family recipes, in one place.

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I’ve also completed part of the visa renewal, getting the application package accepted. My appointment was last Wednesday, in a city about an hour and a half away called Quimper. Quimper is the administrative centre of the department in which I live. I could have completed the whole process in Brest, the sub-administrative centre. Still, there were no appointments available - who would’ve guessed. It took me about two months of searching for an appointment to get one. I finally got my appointment while standing in line for security while returning to Canada in March. The day finally came, and I had all the documents except one. The préfet (the administrative authority in the department) warns everyone that application packages will be rejected if they are missing documents. Luckily, I had the “attestation of deposit of an ask for a work authorization” from my employer, which was temporarily accepted. In addition, I was given an “acknowledgement of a request for a residence permit.”

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I find it quite comical how such vital documents that give me the legal right to stay in France beyond my visa’s expiry date have such unnecessarily long names. But, I will take it and patiently wait for the work authorization, which my employer has applied to the government. This work authorization legally allows an employer in France to employ a ‘third national.’ In contrast, the residence permit allows a ‘third national’ to reside in France and legally perform the actions mentioned on this permit. Of course, my “mentions” will be a salaried activity, meaning I can only work for someone else and do not have the right to start my own business in France - but that’s okay because there’s far too much paperwork to do that.

Right before leaving for Quimper, I also submitted my first French revenue declaration, not tax returns, because it’s very rare that you get your taxes paid in France. Since arriving in France in August 2022, the only income I have earned is bank interest from my accounts in Canada. In France, you are taxed on your worldwide income, not just your income from French sources, so I will pay about 10€ in taxes and 35€ in social charges towards healthcare, retirement, and housing subsidies.

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Anyways, that’s it for now. Next week will be my ninth month since I arrived in France. No special festivities, but we’ll see if I can get a short travel recap about Quimper up for then!

Happy adventuring,

Ahmed