Crown Royal Maple Review

I like Crown Royal.  It's my favourite whiskey.  When I was younger I drank Crown and coke, which is still my staple at the bar.  As I've matured and become able to afford better alcohol, I've switched to either Crown Royal Limited Edition and coke or occasionally Crown Royal Special Reserve on the rocks, as it's painful to mix that.

Crown Royal recently came out with a new flavour - their first flavoured whiskey - Crown Royal Maple Finish.  As soon as you crack the bottle you'll notice the difference.  This isn't a subtle hint of maple.  The smell is potent.  The moment you twist the lid your friends will perk up, step out of their rooms, and come to the kitchen expecting pancakes.  It's like smelling the deep heart of maple syrup kingdom, which I assume lies somewhere in central Quebec.

After opening the bottle, Tom and I poured ourselves a drink, mixed with coke.

And it was horrible.  It's hard to describe how bad this was, but those two liquids shall hence forth never again be mixed.  We resolved to finish our drinks and I even poured a second, vowing to drink what I bought, and immediately regretted that decision.  While I did finish both drinks, it was through sheer pride and I would refuse another if one were to offer.  Ian's rating: undrinkable.

So time passed and the shock dissolved.  I brought the bottle to Aaron's place as a prank.  We each had a small cup neat.  It was much better on it's own, but still not great, and Aaron labelled it the pedophile's whiskey on account of the sweetness.  It is as good as drinking Crown Royal original unmixed, which is doable but not pleasant.  Ian's rating: passable.

Then Aaron tried it with coke and was immediately horrified.  I was pleased.

Next, I tried mixing it with lemon juice.  Ian's rating: also undrinkable.
Then, I tried it with limeade.  Ian's rating: drinkable but not entirely pleasant.

I was nearing my limit.  If it's maple then I will allow it to do what maple does.  I will fulfill it's destiny.  I will make pancakes.  And that's what I did.  I replaced the milk with whiskey and milk powder and the results looked great:

And with my first bite I was much more than surprised.  Shocked might be a better word.  That is a lot of alcohol for one pancake.  But the pancake was okay.  And then the burning sensation set it.  I don't know if the whiskey became more concentrated in the process, the alcohol boiled off and just left contaminants, if whiskey and flour should never be mixed, or water is necessary for flour to become edible, but whatever it was, it burned.  Except for that, and the overwhelming alcohol taste, the pancakes weren't bad.  Ian's rating: regretfully inedible.

And finally I tried Crown Royal Maple Finish with lemonade.  Surprisingly after the previous episodes, it was not bad.  One might even make the claim that it's good.  Ian's rating: well worth a second cup.

In the end I made it work, but seriously, don't waste your money.

We're smarter now

Within thirty minutes of returning home with four jars of my mom's jam, my wife and I had a serious conversation on how to handle the situation.

The decision was unanimous and we labelled the jars.

Crisis averted.

Businesses supplied by green energy

While enjoying an organic mocha over the weekend, the cup told me that Mercury Coffee is a PSE Green Power Partner, receiving 100% of its power from green energy sources.

That's a load of crap - the power grid does not support energy segmentation or dedicated delivery from specific sources to specific customers.  So I looked it up.

When you give PSE money to call yourself a Green Power Partner, PSE uses the money to buy renewable energy certificates (RECs) from green energy providers on your behalf (with some lost to advertising and administerion of the program).  These providers receive the certificates from the state as a proof that they produced energy from green sources.  Certificates are only given to facilities produced after 01/01/1997 so that providers are not rewarded for energy created from processes that existed before the REC system existed.  The energy produced by these facilities is sold separately, just as it is from any power plant.

What does this mean? 

From the provider's point of view, these certificates basically increase the price of electricity produced by green power plants, incentivizing them to create the plants.  The price of these certificates is based on supply and demand - the more people who want to buy them, the more they cost, and the more the providers are rewarded for their energy.  When you buy an REC, you are giving money directly to the green energy providers as a thank you for producing clean energy.

According to Dominion energy, you are "buying the right to claim the environmental benefits that were created by adding that renewable energy to the grid."  So, you're not directly helping the environment, you are purchasing the right to claim you are helping the environment, and participating in a system that gives people the incentive to produce cleaner energy.

What happens to the RECs after you give money to PSE to buy them?  PSE will have a stockpile of RECs that they own.  If they can sell the RECs at a later date, your purchase is useless.  In some states, RECs expire, which alleviates the problems.  Although not explicitly stated, it sounds like if the REC is registered with Green-e (82% of the market), only the first sales is authorized.

I started looking into this assuming that it was a crock.  But it seems legitimate.  I might just have to celebrate with a cup of coffee.

Water and Ice

I took this photo a few months back after an afternoon of wake boarding.

I took it for a few reasons:

• To fill the family foot album
• To remind myself how great water and alcohol mix
• So this post would have a photo

Ontario has very strict boating laws when it comes to alcohol.  You cannot carry alcohol or even have bottle caps in your boat unless the boat has sleeping quarters and a galley, and no alcohol can be consumed unless your boat, which has sleeping quarters and a galley, is anchored or tied to a dock.  You cannot even display alcohol near your boat, such as on the dock, if your boat does not fit this criteria.

So I grew up without even considering the possibility of drinking on the water.  My mind was opened when my American coworkers considered it a necessity.  I gave in.  I brought Smirnoff Ice (from Canada; the malt version here is inferior).  And I relaxed.

Ontarians, you are missing out.  There is something so relaxing about leaving work early, being warmed by the sun, sitting back, riding above the waves, and drinking a Smirnoff Ice.  I can see why people get hooked on boats.  And in that moment of tranquility with the wind blowing past my face, the sun setting, and the music pumping, its easy to realize how great life is.  I took a break from this feeling to take the photo and got straight back to it.

Related to my last post, life is great when you live in the moment.

Also related to my last post, my wife is funny.

I gave her one week to finish what was left of my mom's famous raspberry jam.  Two days pass and the jar remains in the fridge.  Four days pass and it's still there.  Eight days pass and it's still there.  Excited that I had another opportunity to enjoy the jam but still responsible enough to warn my wife, I informed her that I was about to finish the jam if she would not.  She replied that it's already gone.

She continued.  She finished it a week earlier, but didn't want to crush my dreams.  If she put it on the counter or in the sink, I'd see it and be disappointed that it's gone.  But if she left it in the fridge, I'd increasingly get my hopes up all week and then be surprised when I try to eat it.  Then she laughed for a few minutes at her trickery.  Well played, dear.  Well played.

Strawberry on the Shortcake

My wife got a little anxious today when she saw that my mom's raspberry jam was almost gone.  I've been eating it slowly for the past month while she was apparently "saving it."  Now there's about one medium-sized spoonful left, and she wants me to promise that I'll leave it for her.

But I can't do that.  It's the french pastry episode all over again, only this time I'm wiser.  I know that I'll eventually eat the jam; it's just too delicious.  We compromised by giving her a week - if it's not gone in seven days, I will most likely finish it.

The french pastry episode was the first such occasion.  On a trip to Paris, my wife took me to many pastry restaurants, as she's a bit food crazy.  But there was one in particular.  I ordered the best chocolate desert that exists on the planet.  It wasn't just better than the previous best by a little, it was exceptional.  My wife asked for some and I offered her a bite, but she declined; she wanted to wait until she finished her pastry so that her final bite would be perfect.  I replied that this was dangerous, then immediately forgot about the exchange, lost in a haze of chocolaty bliss, and proceeded to eat the entire cake.

And my wife got upset.  After a few years the topic comes up every now and again, though the sting has waned.

So the question is, are you happier when you save the best bite for last and have hope for the future, or are you happier when you enjoy what's in front of you, when you chose to enjoy the present moment?  This is precisely the question posed, quite eloquently and over many episodes, in the Japanese drama Strawberry on the Shortcake, which is, incidentally, my favorite TV drama of all time, though I can't say how well it's aged in 10 years.  The happy characters in the drama eat the strawberry first, and the main character chooses to save it for the end.

My wife saves it for last.  I typically eat half first and the rest at the end, or eat it all at the beginning if that's too much work.  My friends notice that I exhibit the same pattern at buffets - I'll grab desert with my first run of food, then go back for more food and desert, followed by a third round of desert if I can fit it in.

In SOS, the metaphor was clear - people who eat the strawberry first are the extroverts who enjoy life; people who eat it last are the introverts who wish they had more fun.  I guess I'm both.  I don't have to guess - I am both.  A university friend of mine confirmed this.  Liv was a psych major and surreptitiously gave me a psychological test.  The end result showed that I was both introverted and extroverted - not somewhere in between, mind you - I lived at both ends of the spectrum.

While SOS leans one way, the marshmallow study shows that kids who delay gratification go on to have more "successful" lives.  Maybe there is no definite answer to the strawberry question, but I suspect that it's better to be somewhere in between, or live happily at both ends, with some very good raspberry jam.

Tying your shoes

Sound interesting?  Probably not.  But you too may be a victim of incorrect shoe tying.

It started with the shoes I bought for my dad's second wedding.  The thick laces always looked crooked when tied.  One day a few years ago I sat down to solve the problem and discovered another way to tie my shoes - pushing to loop up instead of down made all the difference.  Plus, the knot was tighter.

My wife laughed at me when I told her the story but it turns out that a lot of people get it wrong.  (the last link is from Sesame Street))

And yesterday I saw a TED talk on the same topic.

Two things:
1. Some dumb things really aren't; and
2. I could have given a TED talk.

Before writing this post I tested it out on a friend and it turned out he was doing it wrong his whole life, which required him to double knot.

Who's laughing now?

Probably you.  At me.  I'm okay with that.

Raspberry Jam Smackdown: Resurrection

We have a new contender in The Great Raspberry Jam Eat-Off of 2012.

My mom, after reading the previous post, was both intrigued by the possibility of making jam without pectin and the prospect of winning a cooking challenge.  Greaves Jam, as I'm sure you recall, did not list pectin in the ingredients list but I assumed it was included.  As it turns out, jam can be made pectin-free, which translates to less sugar and much more finickiness in the cooking process.

Mom entered the contest.  And things just got interesting.

So let's have a look at our new contender and Greaves, the undisputed winner of our last round:

Greaves	Sugar Raspberries (I assume it has pectin)
Mommy-san's	Sugar Raspberries (order assumed as there was no label)

From last time, we judged the jams on the following factors:

• Aroma
• Taste
• Consistency
• Sweetness
• Raspberriness
• Existence of little bits

And here's how it turned out.

Greaves	Light aroma A little sweet Good consistency Rich raspberry taste Has bits	Wife: Good Me: Good
Mommy-san's	Almost no aroma Good color A little thick Extra rich raspberry taste Lots of bits Perfect sweetness No label	Wife: Good Me: Great

Mommy-san's is the only jam that wasn't too sweet for me.  The first taste that hits your tongue upon eating Greaves is sweetness, and the raspberries come later.  With Mommy-san, the raspberries come first, and they linger wonderfully.  My wife likes the punchiness of Greaves' taste, though I find it a little fake on account of the sweetness.  My hat tips towards Greaves for aroma, little bits (M-san has a bit too many), and consistency.

Wife's ranking: Greaves, and almost tied, M-san's, with a big gap before the other 5.
My ranking: M-san's, Greaves 'cause it just tasted so much better.

On average, I'd have to give a slight victory to Mommy-san's, or at least that would have been the verdict had my mom not warned me about hers becoming thinker when cold.

So in the fridge they went.

And two days later, a retest.  Same great taste but much thicker - unfortunately unspreadable.

With the unexpected new post-refridgerated spreadiness factor, Greaves wins slightly.  Sorry, mom.  I will accept further entries in the future, if you are so inclined.