During what Charlie calls my "Annual Festival" in which my birthday and Valentine's Day collide on the same day to give me an excellent excuse to reap the celebratory perks of both holidays spread over three to five days, we splashed out and went to London's Michelin-starred Clove Club for a five-course tasting menu. We sat for maybe 10 minutes before Charlie suggested we just eff it and for go the £95 ten-courser instead in what was perhaps his most daring display of affection to date. It was the right move.
Tuesday, April 14, 2015
Thursday, April 9, 2015
London smells OK, has all the functions expected from a first-world country (like trash collection and 24-hour electricity) and def has some good food, but I'd still trade it for the smelly streets of Asia. Roaches and all, I'd rather be eating fresh seafood in Bangkok right now, or char kway teow on the streets of Singapore. One thing Charlie and I really grew to love in Malaysia was greens – kang kong, morning glory, anything green – tossed with sambal belacan, a typical chili sauce with the salty, pungent addition of shrimp paste.
Monday, February 16, 2015
When Charlie and I arrived in Chennai after a 28-hour train ride from Calcutta, we got in a fight with an auto-rickshaw driver within our first 30 minutes in the city. We were specific at the rickshaw stand about where we needed to go, but our driver followed his own directions despite my insisting that he was wrong (they call me GP-EL for a reason). I finally thrust my phone to his ear with our hotel on the other line (a working phone is a MUST for travel around India), and after a few words, he admitted defeat. But he wanted us to pay the amount on the meter after driving us in circles, when we had already agreed on a lower price to the correct location. Obviously.
We did not pay the higher price, but things got heated when we got to our destination. It's a theme in India (and life) – headstrong men there REFUSE to ask for clarification or assistance when they're unsure of something. I couldn't count on two hands the amount of times a driver told us he knew where we were going, even when he literally had zero idea and didn't even understand our words when we announced our destination. Too nervous to lose the job, these guys drive off with you and try to casually clarify later, which leads to disaster more often than not. These encounters are what make travel in India incredibly frustrating, and make it a country that's gratifying to make it through a day in.
Thursday, February 5, 2015
Considering how long it's taken Charlie and I to come to terms with our feelings about India after spending three months there this past summer, I find myself wishing I had another chance to explore Mumbai surprisingly often. We had about three days in the city and it was just enough time to get an idea how the city works (with immense amounts of calculated disorder), but certainly not enough time to see everything I would have wanted to. Every street was a street I could spend an hour taking photos of and every person had a fascinating story.
Wednesday, February 4, 2015
During my recent two-week "Spanish Residency" (in which my body told me "NO"
in more physical ways than one and I learned that my Spanish is shite), I was at the mercy of my baby sister, who calls Madrid her current home and insisted that I wasn't allowed to suggest places to eat. It was just as well, because I'm not sure I would have been able to find a place that could top the traditional tapas and lively atmosphere at Malaspina.
Tuesday, January 27, 2015
Billed as the "naughty little sister of Burger and Lobster," the naughtiest thing about Mayfair's new-ish Smack Deli is the blatant disregard for lobster roll tradition and the lack of focus on diner experience. The "deli" just off of busy Oxford St. offers four types of exotic lobster rolls, a lobster chowder, an in-shell one-pounder, a de-shelled pot of meat and a side of courgette fries. The prices are much more reasonable than those of the store's (well behaved?) older sister, yet they fluctuate whether you choose to eat in or take out. That's pretty typical of casual London places as there's no tax charged if you take food away, but opt to dine in and you can expect the bill to be a couple of pounds heavier.