I don't normally write about food on this blog. But hear me out. Yesterday was Bianca's birthday and we had an incredible experience at Osteria Giulia. We sat at the bar, as we like to do, and everything was perfect: the food, the service, and the interiors.
First, let's talk about the food.
Anchovies, grilled sourdough, and a lot of delicious butter:
Endive, pear, burnt honey vinaigrette, toasted almonds, and ricotta:
Ricotta filled pasta, mushrooms, and artichokes:
Sea bass, leeks, artichokes, fava beans, and charred tomatoes:
Now, let's talk about the interiors. They were designed by Guido Costantino Projects. And to get a good feel for their approach, I suggest you first check out their Instagram and then move onto their website. They do really beautiful and calming work.
Design always matters.
And I'm pretty sure that the cream-colored stones and light-oak details made everything taste that much better last night. If you haven't been and you get a chance, I would highly recommend you try Osteria Giulia. It's now one of our favorites in the city.
Happy birthday, Bianca!
Today is my fortieth birthday. And despite a noble attempt to avoid having meetings today, I spent a big chunk of the day in them. Thankfully, I was also fortunate to spend a lot of time with family, friends, and colleagues (see evidence above).
This is a birthday where I think I'm supposed to feel things. And I do. I'm grateful for the wonderful people that I get to have in my life and who love me. I feel lucky that I get to wake up every day and do something I love. And I'm genuinely excited for this next decade.
It is, however, true that time does speed up. It feels like just yesterday that I was 30 years old. I had just finished my MBA. I was about to start writing this daily blog (yes it's nearly a decade old). And I was trying to figure out how to make an impact on the world.
Maybe not much has changed. It's not in my nature to feel complacent. But there is something nice about getting older and feeling more confident with yourself and your abilities.
If anything, birthdays are a good reminder that time is precious. We only have so many weeks. So we shouldn't feel shy about asking the world for what we want. I think that's what I'm feeling most this birthday, and I view that as an exciting thing. So here's to forty years.
“We came to Toronto,” she says, “because it’s a place where you can work, it’s a place where you can live well, it’s a place where there is hope.” -Jane Jacobs (1971)
It was my birthday this week (May 2nd). But it was also the birthday of someone far more noteworthy. This past May 4th marks what would have been Jane Jacob’s 100th birthday. (She passed in Toronto in 2006.)
In commemoration of this, Toronto Life published a photographic essay, along with a short piece by Joe Berridge. Joe is a partner at the urban design and planning firm Urban Strategies. He’s also a great storyteller.
Here’s an excerpt:
Jane didn’t do nice—Toronto’s default emotional setting. She was cantankerous and argumentative: once you got on the wrong side of her, that was that. About 20 years ago, when I was working as an urban planner, we were on a panel together at Boston College. I was making some remarks about city planning she clearly thought rubbish—and she just interrupted me. “Joe, Joe, Joe,” she said (her squawky Scranton, Pennsylvania, accent made it sound like “jaw, jaw, jaw”). “You’re tacking nansense.” The audience agreed. After I spoke, an incomprehensible social science professor took the stage. Jane wasn’t fond of academics—she didn’t think they knew much—but to make matters worse, he kept addressing her as Professor Jacobs. “Staap calling me prafessa,” she barked. “I barely graduated high school.” He and I both slunk offstage in shame, clutching our notes.
Jacobs was certainly a force to be reckoned with. Without a doubt, she left her mark on this city, as well as others, like New York. And I believe that she is part of the reason why – almost 50 years after she first moved to Toronto – we remain a city where you can work, live well, and where there is hope. I like that simple characterization.
If you’d like to read/see the full piece by Toronto Life, click here.