Three Lives, One Extraordinary Story

Most people live one life. Tom Lenoble seems to have lived three: one marked by success, one shaped by devastating setbacks, and one that took him somewhere he never expected.

I’ve always been drawn to people who refuse to fit into a single box – those whose lives take unexpected turns and whose identities evolve through circumstance, choice, and resilience. Tom is one of them.

His journey moves through boardrooms, hospital rooms, and high heels. At first glance, those worlds couldn’t seem farther apart, yet each became part of the same remarkable life. Beneath them all runs a common thread: control – having it, losing it, fighting to regain it, and discovering who you are when life refuses to follow the script.

His memoir, My Life in Business Suits, Hospital Gowns, and High Heels, tells that story with honesty, humour, vulnerability, and grit.

After reading Tom’s intriguing memoir, I wanted to know more about the life behind the pages. I asked him six questions, and his responses are thoughtful, candid, and every bit as compelling as the memoir itself.

But first…an excerpt from the book:

“In my seventy years, “me” has meant a lot of different things.

I’ve been the poor little boy who grew up in a shack with no refrigerator or hot water.

The chubby, unathletic kid who didn’t fit in anywhere and was teased for being a sissy.

The churchgoing mama’s boy on a path into the ministry because it seemed like the proper thing to do.

I’ve been the misfit teenager who found his tribe among the theater kids.

The pothead college student who ditched the lecture hall for the lights of a drag bar.

I’ve been the gay man who lived the high life in the 1980s, until the AIDS epidemic came for those most dear to me.

A “gray hair” who, at age fifty-three, had a front seat to the dawn of social media as one of the first one hundred employees at Facebook.

And I’ve been an HIV and cancer patient who was told no less than three times that I had only six months to live. I’m still all those things.  And I’m still here.”

The story behind the story:

1) What made you decide this was the moment to tell your story?

For years, I believed my story was simply my life. I did not realize it might become someone else’s roadmap. After being told three different times that I had six months to live, two life threatening illnesses, surviving careers that spanned companies like Facebook, Palm, Walmart.com, MCI, and high growth startups, and reinventing myself more than once, I began to see a common thread. Every chapter was teaching me something about risk, resilience, reinvention, and what it truly means to live.

I’m a very private man. The secrets have been shared. It has been liberating.

People often asked how I stayed hopeful or how I found the courage to keep starting over. I finally realized the answers were not meant to stay with me. They were meant to be shared. If someone closes the book feeling less alone, more hopeful, or more willing to take the next courageous step in their own life, then telling my story was worth it.

2) You’ve lived in worlds that don’t usually intersect, as a business executive, a patient fighting for your life, and as Rita Dayworth. Looking back, which of those experiences taught you the most about yourself?

Each one revealed a different part of me. The executive taught me discipline, leadership, and how to navigate complexity. The patient taught me humility. When you’re lying in a hospital bed, titles, salaries, and accomplishments disappear. You are simply another human being hoping for tomorrow.

Rita Dayworth may have taught me the most unexpected lesson. Through humor, performance, and self-expression, I discovered that authenticity often begins where fear ends. Rita gave me permission to be seen differently, to laugh at myself, and to recognize that confidence is not about pretending. It is about embracing every part of who you are.

Together, those three lives showed me that we are never just one identity. We are far more expansive than the labels we place on ourselves.

3) Was there a moment you hesitated to include something, and what made you decide to keep it in?

Absolutely. Vulnerability is easy to encourage in others and much harder to practice yourself. There were stories that exposed disappointment, fear, relationships, mistakes, and moments when I questioned everything.

I kept asking myself, “Does this serve the reader, or does it simply make me uncomfortable?” If the only reason I wanted to remove something was because it made me look imperfect, then it probably belonged in the book.

I have never wanted to write a memoir that polished my life into something it wasn’t. Real resilience is messy. It includes setbacks, uncertainty, and moments when you have no idea what comes next. Those are often the pages readers connect with the most.

The most difficult part was starting with 700 pages as the cuts began. In the last round of edits, I was asked to cut another swath. I wanted to scoop all those cuts and turn them into another book.

4) You’ve lived through extraordinary challenges. What kept you moving forward during the hardest times?

I stopped asking, “Why is this happening to me?” and started asking, “What is this trying to teach me?”

That shift changed everything.

I have always believed that hope is an action, not simply a feeling. Some days hope looked like making another doctor’s appointment. Other days it meant saying yes to an opportunity that scared me. Sometimes it meant helping someone else when I was struggling myself.

I also learned that resilience is rarely built in dramatic moments. It is built through ordinary decisions repeated over time. Get up. Take the next step. Make the next phone call. Love the people around you. Repeat.

Those small choices eventually become an extraordinary life.

5) Looking back, was there a chapter of your life that taught you something you never expected to learn?

Oddly enough, it was becoming seriously ill.

I would never wish those experiences on anyone, but they stripped away everything I thought defined success. They taught me that life is measured less by achievements and more by relationships. Less by what we accumulate and more by what we contribute.

When you believe your life may be ending, you become remarkably clear about what matters.

Ironically, facing death taught me how to live more fully. It made me a better leader, a better friend, a better coach, and I hope, a better human being. It also brought serving others to clarity and my desire to be a philanthropist. That, in turn, inspired me to create The Philanthropic Mindset. A framework to help others see that philanthropy is beyond a check, a gala, or name on a building. It can be found in a smile, a hello, or sitting with someone in need.

6) Is there any difference between the public perception of what you’ve accomplished and your own perception of your greatest accomplishments?

There is a tremendous difference.

People often introduce me by mentioning the companies I’ve worked for, the books I’ve written, the stages I’ve spoken on, or the fact that I survived multiple life-threatening diagnoses. I am grateful for all of those experiences, but they are not what I consider my greatest accomplishments.

What matters most to me are the lives I’ve had the privilege to influence. The executive who found the courage to lead differently. The entrepreneur who chose purpose over fear. The nonprofit leader who discovered they didn’t have to carry the weight alone. The reader who wrote to tell me they decided not to give up.

Success looks impressive on a resume. Significance is written in the lives we touch.

If I am remembered for anything, I hope it is not the companies I worked for or the obstacles I survived. I hope people remember that I helped them believe they were capable of more than they imagined, especially when life suggested otherwise. I want the initiatives I’ve started to carry forth long after I’ve left this physical existence.

Tom’s story reminds us that life rarely follows the path we expect – and that sometimes our greatest challenges become the chapters that define us. If you’d like to continue the journey, you’ll find links to both his memoir and his newest book below.

My Life in Business Suits, Hospital Gowns and High Heels

Tom’s latest book and my next read:

Morning Ground: an inspiring collection of daily reflections is designed to help you begin each day with greater clarity, presence, and intention.

Glasshouse Restaurant

A Moment, A Mood and a Meal series

It’s always better when everything about a restaurant appeals to you. Such was the case with a recent exceptional midday meal. It’s rare that I can look at a lunch menu and have a hard time deciding what to order. Everything on the Glasshouse menu looked tempting.

I eventually settled on the lunchtime portion of herb-crusted chicken breast with scalloped potatoes and kale salad. The restaurant uses fresh, regional ingredients and they were the stars of the plate. The crispy herb crust was topped with a lovely rosemary and tarragon sauce. The potatoes were creamy and the garlic kale salad had just the right amount of dressing.

The service was warm and welcoming. Another bonus? Glasshouse is dog-friendly, with a covered outdoor patio that allowed my dogs to be comfortably half outside and half inside while I enjoyed my meal.

I also learned about the restaurant’s commitment to sustainability. Through techniques like pickling, fermenting, and preserving, they extend the life of ingredients, reduce waste, and create even more flavour. Even kitchen scraps are put to good use, transformed into stocks, ferments, and other creative ingredients instead of ending up in the garbage.

It’s always nice to discover a restaurant where great food, thoughtful service, and environmental responsibility all come together. In fact, I’ve already decided to go back with friends for one of their long-table tasting menus. I hear the cocktails are great too so I’ll try one of those next time.

The Play That Goes Wrong

If there wasn’t already a movie entitled Everything Everywhere All at Once, the play I saw last night could have borrowed its title. Instead, it’s called The Play That Goes Wrong, now playing at the Arts Club’s Granville Island Stage.

After months of preparation, the Cornley Drama Society is finally ready for opening night of The Murder at Haversham Manor. Surely everything will go to plan. Right?

Photo courtesy of The Arts Club Theatre.

Well… everything goes wrong – exactly as planned.

The actors miss their cues, props fall apart, the set malfunctions, and the one who’s supposed to be dead keeps moving. It’s classic slapstick comedy madness, and the audience around us seemed to love every minute of it.

Comedy is all about timing. Slapstick is one of the hardest forms of comedy because making chaos look effortless takes perfect timing. It isn’t about things going wrong – it’s about making every wrong thing happen at exactly the right moment. Making something so carefully rehearsed look completely accidental is no easy feat.

The best slapstick brings to mind legends like Carol Burnett, Lucille Ball, and of course, Charlie Chaplin.  Making utter chaos look effortless is one of the hardest things an actor can do.

The cast of The Play That Goes Wrong deserves credit. Pulling off this level of choreographed chaos night after night can’t be easy, and they execute it with impressive precision.

That said, this style of comedy just wasn’t for me. After the first few laughs, I found the constant barrage of mishaps and mayhem became repetitive rather than funnier. Judging by the audience around us, many people were thoroughly entertained, so if you’re a fan of broad slapstick comedy, there’s a good chance you’ll enjoy it. My friend and I, however, left feeling that less might have been more.

Sometimes it’s not about whether a show is good – it’s about whether it’s your kind of funny. Judging by the audience around us, this one found its fans. My friend and I just weren’t among them.

June 18–August 16, 2026

Lindsay Family Stage at Granville Island

For Tickets:

Bard: Where Comedy and Tragedy Intersect

Only Shakespeare can take you from light mischief to dark magic in 48 hours.

Jennifer Lines as Mrs. Page and Ashley Wright as Falstaff in Merry Wives of Windsor – 2026. Photo by Emily Cooper.

This weekend I went full-on Shakespeare: The Merry Wives of Windsor on Friday and Macbeth on Sunday. It started with comedy and chaos and ended with three mysterious figures, rising ambition, and the unraveling of a man who would become king (a theme that hits close to home for this blog).

Macbeth isn’t just a story about power – it’s about what happens when desire outruns destiny. Desire reaches for the crown; destiny decides whether it actually fits. That clash between longing and fate sets the tone for everything that follows – ambition, paranoia, and the slow, inevitable unraveling of a man who was never meant to wear the crown.

Munish Sharma. Photo by Emily Cooper.

Seeing both a comedy and a tragedy back‑to‑back reminded me why Bard on the Beach is such a Vancouver summer ritual. Whether it’s mischief in Windsor or madness in Scotland, the productions always find a way to make Shakespeare feel alive, modern, and unexpectedly relatable. I must say, the casting in both plays is remarkable – the actors are incredibly multi‑talented.

But back to the first play. I first saw The Merry Wives of Windsor at Bard on the Beach in 2012, and each time the story becomes a slightly different version of the original. I’m not sure if Shakespeare would be rolling in his grave or not, but the 2026 modern twist brings it straight into present‑day Vancouver, set inside a local FIFA‑obsessed community centre – with playful costumes, contemporary touches, and a cheeky energy. It’s one of Shakespeare’s lighter stories, full of schemes, disguises, and characters who feel surprisingly familiar even centuries later. It drew plenty of laughs from the audience. Yes, it’s really silly – but fun.

The Acting Company of The Merry Wives of Windsor. Photo by Emily Cooper.

I saw Macbeth on the summer solstice – the longest day of the year – which felt strangely fitting. There’s something about watching one of Shakespeare’s darkest plays while the sky takes its time getting fully dark that makes the whole experience feel even more surreal. The staging, the pacing, the performances – everything felt sharp and intense. It’s a story that always hits hard, and this production leaned into that beautifully.

Munish Sharma and Tess Degenstein. Photo by Emily Cooper.

What struck me most wasn’t the plays themselves, but how differently they landed – one light, one dark, both reinvented for today. That’s the magic of Bard on the Beach: you never quite know what version of Shakespeare you’re going to get, but you always walk away thinking about it.

It’s also worth noting that Christopher Gaze, the founder and artistic director of Bard on the Beach, has been appointed to the Order of Canada – one of the country’s highest civilian honours.  While on the subject of who is meant to wear the crown – the recognition will be presented by King Charles, highlighing the impact he’s had on Canadian theatre and on the cultural life of Vancouver. Congratulations Mr. Gaze! 

After spending the weekend under the tents, it’s easy to see why his contribution is being recognized at the national level.

By the way, you don’t need to be familiar with Shakespeare to enjoy these plays. Just saying.

For ticketshttps://bardonthebeach.org/

Raconteuse – botanical beauty

From forest to flower

I’ve always like the Rumi phrase “what you seek, is seeking you.”

This botanical skincare line magically fell into my lap at exactly the right moment. Raconteuse sent me three full‑size products to try, and they arrived just as I’d scraped the last drops from my serum and night cream from another natural line I’d been using for months. I was debating whether to reorder or try something new. This is something new.

I gravitate toward clean, organic, cruelty‑free, sustainably sourced products that smell naturally beautiful and actually do something. At the end of the day, we want results. Skincare is a ritual, after all. I’ve even made my own products from scratch and sold them for a while – small‑batch, handcrafted, and ultimately more work than I bargained for.

And because I love a good story behind a brand, this part delighted me: Raconteuse means a woman who is a skilled storyteller. This storytelling happens to be blended with science.

Grove of Goodness

On their website the descriptions of their producs are quite poetic.  For instance, they ask you which skincare realm you think your skin belongs to – with a list of realms of course. More fun than asking your skin type.  A list of what each product does and all the ingredients can be found on their website (link below).

For several weeks now I’ve been using “Grove of Goodness” – an invigorating day cream that smells heavenly.  It’s an elixir brimming with antioxidants, nutrients, and a whisper of citrus. Lightweight yet deeply hydrating, it melts into skin leaving a dewy, radiant finish.  I love it. Actually, I’m loving all the products.

Cascade of Calm
cascade of calm texture

At night I’m using “Cascade of Calm” which is a nourishing serum that does some of this: calms inflammation and soothes redness,
Stimulates collagen production for enhanced firmness, brightens tone and smooths texture.  What’s not to love about that?

After that I use a soothing but rich night balm on dry patches called “Sea of Serenity.”

I haven’t seen a mermaid appear in my dreams offering me a sparkle from the sea’s hidden depths – but I have woken up to a smoother complexion.

Sea of Serenity

Raconteuse feels like skincare created by someone who understands that beauty isn’t just about results – it’s about ritual, story, and the small moments of care we give ourselves.  These products have slipped seamlessly into my routine, and for now, I’m happily staying in this forest-to-flower realm.

My skin is smoother, yes, but more than that, the experience feels like a story worth telling.

If you’d like to explore the line, Raconteuse has given me a code for my readers.  Click on the link below and use code Debbie10 when completing your order to get 10% off your first order.

https://raconteuseskincare.com/

 

Come From Away – the Musical

Newfoundlanders are a little different from the rest of us Canadians – in the best possible way.

They even speak their own poetic version of English.  “Stay where you’re to ‘til I comes where you’re at.” (Translation: Wait right there until I get there.) So if you “come from away,” you might only understand half of what they say…but their actions speak louder than words.

I just went to opening night of the Arts Club Theatre Company’s extraordinary musical Come From Away – now extended for three more weeks at the Stanley in Vancouver. This Tony‑nominated show tells the true story of 7,000 stranded passengers (mostly American and a handful from around the world) diverted to Gander, Newfoundland on 9/11, and the people who welcomed them by opening their hearts and their homes.

Cast of “Come From Away” – taken from website.

Gander, Newfoundland (aka The Rock): “You are here at the start of a moment, on the edge of the world, where the river meets the sea.” It was not what anyone expected. In many ways, it exceeded every expectation of how powerful kindness and community can be.

This musical is now at the top of my list. The cast is exceptional, the story is real and heartfelt, and the music is pure joy. There was even a live orchestra.

One detail that really stayed with me: the animals stranded in the cargo holds – two rare bonobos (similar to chimps), nine cats, and eight dogs, all cared for by local SPCA volunteer Bonnie Harris throughout the five‑day ordeal. The female bonobo even gave birth while in Gander, though the baby did not survive (possibly because of the stress). The audience was later relieved to learn that the female bonobo had a second baby that survived when it was re routed to the Columbus Zoo. Harris’s compassion left such a mark that the Columbus Zoo named the  baby bonobo “Gander” in honour of the town. A beautiful reminder of humanity at its best. 

Vancouver, go see this.

Come From Away is presented through special arrangement with Music Theatre International (MTI). In Partnership with The Citadel Theatre, Edmonton

Book, Music, and Lyrics by
Irene Sankoff & David Hein

The extended run is until August 16 at the Stanley BFL CANADA Stage, 2750 Granville Street, Vancouver. Tickets for the added dates go on sale June 8. Tickets are available from $39 through the Box Office Call Centre at 604.687.1644 or at ArtsClub.com.

The Perfect Wife –  an unexpected expectation

How can you pass by a window that displays the words “The Perfect Wife” and not wonder what story sits behind it? It certainly got my attention.

Someone noticed me lingering, opened the door, and welcomed me into what turned out to be a surprisingly intriguing exhibit. One that dives into the complexity of the human condition while challenging social stereotypes and cultural norms we’ve all been handed. That someone, as it turned out, was the artist.

I loved the display and the humorous captions that accompanied them – especially now, when so many women are saying, “I want to be neither a Nurse nor a Purse.”

The Perfect Wife is a narrative-driven project that examines traditional heterosexual marriage through satire, exposing the cultural expectations placed on women through the nostalgic visual language of mid-century editorials.

Through exaggeration and irony, familiar stereotypes of devotion and obedience are pushed to their limits, revealing the social structures that sustain them. The result is not parody for its own sake, but satire with precision.

The Perfect Wife does not argue against marriage itself. Instead, it questions the conditions under which it is entered and the silent contracts it often contains. Beneath it lies a simple truth: choice is not universal.

That dinner ain’t gonna cook itself!

Created through an all-female artistic collaboration, the exhibition combines photography, short film, installations, and art performance. Together, these elements construct a dysfunctional domestic environment that encourages viewers to reflect on tradition, identity, and the gender expectations that continue to shape women’s lives.

The story unfolds across familiar chapters – roles women are expected to perform when stepping into “tradition.”  A Mother.  A Cook. A Housekeeper. A Hen.  A Personal Assistant.  A Lover. A catalogue of emotional labour, domestic management and care work, absorbed into a single role, often without acknowledgment.

Within marriage, these imbalances often remain invisible, operating quietly behind closed doors where tradition can function as a form of control.

When I was married, I naturally took on the role of the cook – not out of obligation, but out of joy. I loved experimenting in the kitchen, and my late husband was the kind of appreciative audience who made every meal feel like a small celebration. I was equally lucky that he was a self-sufficient unicorn who handled laundry and cleanup without hesitation. That kind of mutual contribution is rarer than it should be, and only in hindsight do I see how much it shaped the harmony in our home.

But personal experience doesn’t erase the broader truth: millions of women worldwide are still denied basic rights. Progress is fragile, and history has shown us how easily it can be undone.

Presented as an immersive experience, the work invites viewers to consider a simple question: “If the image has evolved, but the structure has not – has anything truly changed.”

Walking through the exhibit, I couldn’t help noticing how much of this “perfect wife” mythology still lingers in subtle ways. It made me think about the roles we inherit without ever agreeing to them, and how important it is to name them before we can change them. The “perfect wife” may be a relic, but the pressure to perform her still exists –  and seeing it exposed so clearly felt like a small act of liberation.

The exhibit is on until June 4th, 2025.  Some editorial taken from the website.  Photos (of photos) d. king

About the Artist:

Valeriia Polishchuk is a Ukrainian-Canadian multidisciplinary artist and filmmaker. Her bio says that she was raised by a single mother in a small town in Ukraine, she developed an early understanding of independence and the importance of a strong female voice.   

Working primarily with photography and film, her visual language blends fashion elements, bold colours, striking patterns, and cinematic framing.

About the Gallery:

ADDITION (also known as Addition Agency) is a contemporary art and design gallery housed in a landmark building – located in Vancouver’s Armoury and Design District – a neighborhood shaped by architecture studios, design showrooms, and leading creative practices. The ground-floor gallery, originally conceived by Niels Bendtsen, has been reimagined as a spacious, light-filled environment dedicated to contemporary art, collectible design, and spatial storytelling.

Visitors are invited to explore a rotating selection of artworks, sculptural objects, and installations from Canadian, Peruvian, Mexican, and Pacific Northwest artists and makers.

Musings on Mindfulness

Mindfulness is everywhere right now – apps, watches, workshops, corporate trainings, even casual conversations. But its popularity says far more about our culture than our spirituality. If anything, the trend reveals how overwhelmed we’ve become.Shouldn’t paying attention to what’s right and what’s not be a natural part of daily life? Do we really need to train ourselves to be thoughtful? Has the world gone that mad? Maybe so. For those of us who consider ourselves reasonably grounded, the whole thing can feel a little surreal – as if our normal instincts have been put on steroids.

This hit me recently when a friend mentioned that his son is “practicing self‑care and mindfulness.” He’s not alone. It’s as if people are suddenly discovering that being self‑aware and trying to do the right thing is… good. There’s even a spiritual layer emerging. I overheard one man ask another who his “spiritual advisor” is. And I suppose if people need life coaches now, spiritual coaches were bound to appear too – said with a wink, not agreement.

But I don’t think people are becoming more spiritually curious. I think they’re becoming more overstimulated, digitally exhausted, and emotionally threadbare.

Recent analyses show that mindfulness has shifted from a niche wellness practice to a mainstream coping mechanism. The global mindfulness market is projected to exceed $9 billion by 2027, driven by stress, digital overload, and workplace burnout. Mindfulness is becoming less about enlightenment and more about surviving overstimulation.

Meditation apps now analyze stress patterns, sleep cycles, and biometrics to deliver personalized sessions. This is mindfulness as a tech‑driven commodity, not an organic practice. Think about it: Apple Watches nudging you to breathe. Meditation apps sending push notifications. Mindfulness with metrics.

Is it a practice or a product?

It’s strange to think that something meant to slow us down now comes packaged with data, dashboards, and market value. This trend reflects a culture that can’t pause long enough to breathe, so it tries to wedge mindfulness into the cracks of an already chaotic day.

The truth is simple: Mindfulness isn’t trending because we’re becoming enlightened – it’s trending because we’re exhausted because we’ve built a world that constantly pulls us out of the present.

What can we do?

Start by removing distractions. Spend less time on your phone. I personally leave my phone at home when taking my dogs for their first walk of the day, preferring to focus only on them. Turn off non‑essential notifications. Put your device in another room during meals and sleep. Create “no‑scroll zones” in the bedroom, bathroom, and at the dinner table. Presence becomes easier when your brain isn’t being hijacked every few minutes.

In the end, mindfulness isn’t popular because we’ve suddenly become wiser or more spiritually attuned. It’s popular because the world has become so loud, so fast, and so relentlessly demanding that we’re grasping for anything that helps us feel human again.

Maybe the real goal isn’t to perfect mindfulness – but to build a life that doesn’t constantly pull us away from it.

Until then, we’ll keep breathing, pausing, and being present – not because it’s fashionable, but because it’s the only way to stay sane in a world that never stops moving.

Mindfulness isn’t the cure — it’s the symptom.

Thoughts?

 

Midday Mood Menu

First of my new A Moment, A Mood and a Meal series.

I don’t know about you, but I’ve become accustomed to having two meals a day for quite some time now.  Usually, it’s breakfast and dinner. It’s not necessary to have three meals a day anymore – maybe it never was.  As you get older you tend to eat less.

But sometimes, my mood calls for a midday meal, which ends up being the only meal of the day because it’s too late for breakfast and too early for dinner. It becomes a lingering late lunch.  Lately I’ve been discovering the exotic sample tasting menu.

I haven’t travelled anywhere International for a number of years now.  It’s my choice to not be away from my dogs for maybe no more than two weeks a year.  Those two weeks have been spent going to Toronto for TIFF (film festival) and Montreal to visit family.  Other than that, I have to live vicariously through other people’s adventures. At least for now. One of the things I miss the most about travelling other than the sight seeing, is the food.

So I’ve decided to indulge my desire for foodie adventures through various tasting menus from exotic restaurants around Vancouver.  A journey through food so to speak.

I just had a wonderful tasting experience at Banana Leaf restaurant.  Their Malaysian roots take inspiration from Indonesia, Singapore, Thailand, China, and India. They offer unique dishes you won’t find elsewhere.

Sitting on their outside patio with my dogs was like being on a little adventure. It was a six-course tasting for one (for two people they serve everything individually) which started with a bright pineapple papaya Asian salad (papaya, pineapple, green leaves, capsicum vinaigrette, tomato, fish sauce, crushed peanuts, sesame seeds, brown shallot)….

Then came a platter with:

Roti Canai (handmade flaky flatbread with vegetarian coconut curry sauce), Chicken Satay with a spicy peanut dip, an aromatic Rendang Beef curry (an iconic slow-cooked lean beef, coconut milk, turmeric, coriander, galangal, lemongrass, curry spices & herbs), breaded wild Sablefish (malay black sweet sauce, garlic, caramelized ginger, shallot, chinese wine) with ginger garlic rice. All served on top of a banana leaf.

Dessert was coconut panna cotta (pandanus juice, cooked coconut cream, mango puree & gula Melaka). So delicious.

They also have an amazing refreshment menu featuring everything from young coconut water to pineapple, cucumber + ginger smoothies and passionfruit, mango mocktails.

Their cocktail list includes lychee mojitos, Thai lemongrass basil margaritas, and a house signature “Leaf Me Up,” made with lemongrass‑infused tequila, banana liqueur, lime juice, pandan syrup, Thai chili, and your choice of aquafaba or egg white.

Something about that meal reminded me that I don’t have to board a plane to feel transported. For an hour or two, those flavours took me somewhere warm, bright, and far away – and that was exactly the escape my midday mood was craving.

There’s a whole world of flavour in this city, and I’m ready to explore it one midday mood at a time.  But not every day of course.  

Banana Leaf Malaysian Cuisine operates five locations across Metro Vancouver.  I was at the one in Kits on Broadway. Here is the main website for all five:

 

Confessions of a Childless Dog Mom

The childless dog mom is a special breed unto her own – a powerful force of nature, unhinged in the best way, and capable of turning a casual Sunday into a full‑scale canine festival with nothing but two dogs, a credit card, a theme, and a dream.

It’s our birthday and we’ll bark if we want to!

My two Shelties, blissfully unaware of their own celebrity status, awoke to discover they were the guests of honour at what can only be described as a fur‑covered social event of the season. It wasn’t exactly a pet gala (although what a great idea – maybe next season?), but it was their 10th birthday, which is basically a canine milestone.

We let our favourite pet store Benni & Co take care of the paw-ty details – the goody bags, the treats, the special cake, the presents – the whole curated canine experience.

Meanwhile, the proud, childless dog moms hovered like stage parents at a toddler pageant, adjusting flower crowns, fixing bandanas, and saying things like “Smile for Mommy!”to creatures who were actively trying to lick the floor. It was chaos. It was adorable. It was everything. But overall, it was a statement.

My point being…we may not have human children, but we will throw elaborate celebrations for our four‑legged creatures. And we will do it with gusto, glitter, and absolutely no shame.

Some of the guests:

Daisy & Brad
Maya (Rosa’s girl)
Charlie belongs to Sangita – the owner.
Gus with Layla
Daisy checking out her loot bag.  She was on point for the pink floral themed party.
The goody bags had stickers that looked like Layla & Adele.  The cups were bennicinnos (like ice cream) for the pups.

Sangita (the lovely owner) sharing a box of presents from Benni & Co.

Some childless dog moms:

Laurel & Brady
Marta & Coco
Tammy with Brad & Lisa with Daisy

Call it excessive if you want – we prefer the term canine cultural enrichment.

Birthday parties now on at BENNI & CO. pet store:

https://www.instagram.com/benni.and.co/

Cake provided by LumiiPaws Pet Bakery:

https://www.instagram.com/lumii_paws/

Food-inspired toys provided by Chompurr:

https://www.instagram.com/chompurr/

Well that was fun!