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Smoked Meat, Polish Donuts, Orgasms and Sakura

10

Cherry blossom week is big in Toronto.  At High Park, the Sakura (Cherry Blossoms) bloom for about one week in the year.  This typically coincides with the first few warm weeks, where people emerge from their homes in far less clothing (finally, after each seemingly endless, dragged-out winter).  People flock from near and far to take in the sights, set up picnics and pose for pictures in front of the blossoming trees.

Ludwig and I decided on a Sunday trek around the city via TTC today.  We were on a mission for three things — Polish Pastry, Cherry Blossoms and Smoked Meat.  Our first stop was near Jane station (very west Toronto) for paczek (Polish donut with sweet plum filling) and makowiec (Polish poppy seed pastry).  Ludwig says that this is the only Polish bakery in the city that makes their poppy seed pastry this way – with the thick, solid brick of poppy seed filling surrounded by subtle stripes of sweet bread and glaze.  We ate this at the edge of the park while we shared a double americano, purchased from two bright-eyed and bushy tailed baristas at a local mom-and-pop coffee house and roastery.  We watched the high-end High Park folk walk their tiny dogs and drink their Starbucks and we wondered — why would one ever go to Starbucks to drink poorly made espresso and eat mass produced, over sugared, over priced confections, when you could have what we had?  Ludwig thinks is is because people are ultimately afraid of the unknown.  This could be said for the sexual appetite of many people as well.  But as it is with food, this can be seriously disadvantageous in terms of preventing new and amazing discoveries!

Our next stop was at High Park, where we joined the masses to marvel in the beauty of the cloudless sky, the plush blossoms and the general immense happiness of everyone there.  It is pretty remarkable that things were so busy (the line-up for the ladies room was 45 min long).  Yet, everyone was still in such high spirits.  The experience was certainly made even more lovely with a few tallboys of Stella and a fuzzy blanket to lounge on.

After a solid dose of relaxation in the sun, we trekked slightly cross-city, on the 506 streetcar, to our favourite Jewish restaurant, for a few slices of heaven (that being, slices of smoked meat).  Two pints of Beau’s Lug Tread, one shared smoked meat sandwich on rye, a bowl of split pea soup, a plate of freshly fried latkes with sour cream and applesauce and a few pickles later, we were quite convinced we had eaten our fill.  Our amazing server had other plans.  She managed to talk us into desert (and thank goodness she did).  Three tiny maple bacon donuts, freshly out of the deep fryer, were made in-house, with beef bacon and drizzled with real maple syrup.  I was speechless….before I declared to Ludwig that the donut was making me a little wet…

A sleepy subway ride brought us home for a little nap and two screaming orgasms.  One for him.  One for me.

Eat more bacon donuts.  Make it out to the park during cherry blossom week.  Have more sex.  No man ever died wishing he’d had less sex with his wife and taken in fewer breathtaking views of nature.

–Vera

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