Dollop of Cream: little house on the prairie

I find that Alberta is quite flat.

That's the Prairies, I guess.

As the sun goes down, it seems more west than west. The sun keeps dropping and dropping over the flat land, with no mountains to block it (just a flat little housing development).

I love this view.

I am working at home this month. Well, technically, I am working at our friends' home until we can get into our rental house in October.

We're out on the far western edge of Edmonton, and I sit at the dining room table pretending to work . . . but really I'm just looking out at this view.

Driving around today, I thought it would be the first day when I didn't need to pull over, check the map and turn the car around while careening my way around this foreign city. Then I almost drove the wrong way down a one-way street. So I guess I still have a lot to learn.

Gas station pump . . . They obviously have a sense of humour here.

But – with the help of friends – I have discovered a few sweet spots that are already helping Edmonton wiggle its way into my heart.

There's the Swiss sandwich shop where I had the Italian Bride sandwich (so called because of a great circle of soft bocconcini) on a pretzel bun with prosciutto so thick I thought I couldn't possibly eat it all. But I could.

Then there's sweet little Mandolin, with a miniature café tucked into a used bookshop. They have a cookie that I believe is called "chocolate overdose." I ate it twice in two days and I didn't OD. In fact, I could eat it again right now.

And then there is the house where we're staying. The owners are wonderful gardeners and I wandered around this afternoon in the sunshine (again, while I was "working"), eating bits of lettuce and the last three raspberries of the season. I even discovered a whole row of carrots along the side of the house, just waiting to be pulled up and eaten.

Then I sat down again at the table and looked out the window.

I hope to show you a new recipe soon. But right now, it is enough to be settling in.