Sad is the new happy

Not long ago (in November, me thinks) a study came out claiming that listening to sad or melancholic music can actually "lift your spirits." According to the study, which was conducted by researchers at the Free University of Berlin, people experience more emotions when listening to sad music than happy music. The emotional roller-coaster that sad music incurs "can improve a person's emotional well-being as well as make us feel at peace and nostalgic." (Daily Mail)

I knew there was a good reason I always felt better after a marathon of melancholic tunes. And tears.

Liila Taruffi and Stefan Koelsch surveyed 722 people across the globe (and no, they didn't just lock them in a room and make them listen to Radiohead all day) to try and understand how they felt after listening to sad or melancholic music. People in Europe and the U.S. said they felt "nostalgic" while listeners in Asia said they felt "at peace."    

Participants, who ranged in age and gender, were asked to identify some of their favourite pieces of sad music. Not surprisingly (to me, anyway), Johnny Cash's interpretation of Nine Inch Nails' Hurt and Radiohead's Street Spirit (Fade Out) are the two songs, with lyrics, that got the most votes.

hurt

street spirit (fade out)

The reason I say "not surprisingly" is because those are two of my guaranteed go-to tunes to get the tears flowing. As for songs without lyrics, Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata got the most votes.

  moonlight sonata

I thought the study was really interesting because I have always been drawn to melancholic music. And I'm a very nostalgic person. I knew I was emotionally complex!

While Radiohead's Street Spirit (Fade Out) is a real downer (in a good way), Everything in it's Right Place is a close second.

everything in it's right place 

Another depressing (in an uplifting way) song I've been listening to a lot lately is Ben Harper's Another Lonely Day. Sniff.

another lonely day

After reading about the study last night, I went looking for some melancholic music. I found a band, and a song, that I've never heard of or heard before but both totally blew my mind (and eyeballs). It reminded me of something that could have been playing when my grandparents first met in Poland.

hungry ghosts, i don't think about you anymore but

Vincent Vallières' On va s'aimer encore is another song that I can't listen to without crying no matter how hard I try.

On va s'aimer encore

I LITERALLY just started crying the second the song started.

And then there's The Stranglers' Golden Brown. Nostalgia indeed.

golden brown

What are some of the sad songs that you enjoy listening to? I'd love to know.

   

Orange you glad I didn't say banana!

Knock-knock jokes aside (please), the Orange Julep really is one of the most, shall we say, interesting landmarks the city of Montreal has to offer. 

Shaped like, well, a giant orange, and visible as far as the eye can see, it is the purveyor of many an earthly delight, including the aptly named Orange Julep drink.

Fresh, frosty and refreshing, the "julep" tastes like a mix of milk, or ice cream, and orange juice. 

Its exact ingredients, though, are unknown.

my very fresh, very strong, friend

When an equally fresh, though decidedly less frosty, friend asked our waitress (who, unfortunately, was not on roller skates as used to be the case during the Orange Julep's heyday) what - exactly - the julep was made of, she replied "it's a secret."

And she wasn't kidding.

Built by Hermas Gibeau in 1932 to serve his trademark drink, the Orange Julep's tasty elixir is a faithfully-guarded family recipe.

Aside from mysterious juleps, the Orange Julep also serves delicious hot dogs, burgers, french fries and poutine. Since Mondays to Fridays are now carb-free (for me), weekends are best enjoyed with a hefty side of cheeseburger.  

three cheers for cheeseburgers!

Interesting side note: The beau has been staying with me for the past few months. When asked where he lives, he usually replies something like "five minutes from the Big Orange." This is interesting because the beau is a pilot, and the Big Orange once served as a landmark for a pilot whose radar system had failed. 

The reason for my recent visit to the Orange Julep, other than it being carbfest the weekend, was that it was on the way home from a nursery where I bought my first ever black flower, in honour of Kat Von D. 

i swear it's black

I guess orange really is the new black! 

Feeling fruity and nostalgic

What do you do with more fresh, garden-grown tomatoes than you can shake a stick at?

Make old-fashioned, home-made ketchup, what else? 

After a long, hot summer of planting, watering, twining, tending and, the moment we were all waiting for, picking, I was left with... lots and lots and lots of tomatoes! 

But one can only enjoy so much insalata caprese.

So, instead of wasting the bounty (as opposed to the Bountiful), I decided to contact the beau's mother for an old-fashioned, home-made ketchup recipe.

And she did not disappoint!

Made with (approximately) six tomatoes, six peaches, six pears, six white onions, three green peppers, 5 cups of granulated sugar, two cups of white vinegar, two tablespoons of salt and a teaspoon each of cloves, cinnamon, black pepper and celery seeds, the resulting fruit ketchup has a slightly darker hue than the store-bought variety and a complexity of flavour that is a joy to behold (and savour).

The entire process took about three hours with two pushkins (the mamita and I) working double-time. 

What was most time consuming was peeling everything. To properly peel a tomato, for example, you must first score it with an X before dropping it into boiling water. After about 30 seconds, you can take it out and immerse it in ice water. It is then ready to be peeled.

While peeling the tomatoes I was reminded of a particularly gruesome bris scene from Seinfeld.

Moving on...

After peeling, slicing, dicing, combining and bringing everything to a simmering, slow boil - while stirring often - we were left with lots and lots and lots... of fruit ketchup. Go figure!

Move over Heinz. There's a new ketchup boss in town.