We had a couple of unpleasant culinary experiences on our honeymoon. For our first night in Nice, the restaurant served slightly blackened yet not-really-cooked squid to B and gnocchi with a gorgonzola cream sauce to me. B likened the squid to a Fear Factor gross-out challenge, and my gorgonzola sauce instilled a fear of French cheeses that will live forever.
We decided we could--and should--do better in Italy.
Asking the hotel concierge for help is a good start, but consulting a Michelin guide is better. If you only know Michelin as a tire company, then you're missing out. Their star ratings can make or break restaurants, and losing a Michelin star has undone many a French chef.
The only teeny weeny problem is that Michelin red guides (the red guides are for food and hotels) are published only in the language of the country that is rated. Between my Spanish and B's Latin, we could probably figure out some of the words, but who wants to work that hard? Not me, not on vacation, anyway.
But I discovered a Michelin red guide--in English!--for the main cities of Europe. Perfect, I thought. We'll be in Italy, Greece, Croatia, Germany, and Austria this year, and we can use the guide in all of those places. Two birds, one stone, and all of that.
Well, not so fast, Captain Awesome. Had I consulted the back cover before purchasing the book from Amazon, I would have learned that the guide doesn't cover all of the cities that we're going to. In fact, it doesn't cover either Venice or Florence, so there's almost no point in bringing it with us to Italy, unless we want to use it for our few hours in Athens (which is covered) or for our one-night layover in Frankfurt (also covered) at the end of the trip. Croatia doesn't even get a mention. For our December trip, Munich and Stuttgart are in it, but Salzburg is not.
So we're back to the original dilemma, only $20 poorer and no smarter. Ask concierge, wing it, or take our chances and buy the untranslated Italian red guide. Just no more cheese sauces, please...
Thursday, July 3, 2008
Wednesday, July 2, 2008
Upgrade your bathroom, upgrade your life
Upgrading our bathroom has had some unexpected consequences. Suddenly, our furnishings aren't quite nice enough.
We knew that our existing space saver had to go. Much of it is particle board, and the wood-ish sticker is peeling in some sections. Our new space saver is made of real wood (bamboo), so that upgrade is complete.
But when I was looking at the photos of the new bathroom, a few things stuck out. The first issue was the soap dispenser. A white plastic Dial soap dispenser (probably still has the price sticker on it) is fine on a laminate countertop, but it looks out of place in our posh new digs. And the hand towels--they don't match. They never matched, but now that the rest of the room goes so well together, they have to match, or they'll look out of place.
Last night we went to Home Goods to remedy these issues. We picked up a bronze soap dispenser that matches (mostly) the faucet and also got some beige and green hand towels. We were getting ready to check out when a raging thunderstorm broke out, so we decided to keep shopping.
We kept wandering and discovered some lantern-style lamps that were good candidates for our living room. The current lamps, from Target, are serviceable but have some construction flaws, and we've been on the lookout for replacements.
The storm stopped, and we decided we had done enough damage--B was able to tear me away from the beautiful but enormous patio table that I was swooning over--so we paid and made tracks for home with our new decorating items.
We had only one success--the soap dispenser. The green in the towels clashes terribly with the walls (note to self: bring paint chip the next time we try to decorate our bathroom), and the lamps are wrong, wrong, wrong--too tall, too glarey, and yet not enough light. The lamps and towels are going back.
Let us remember the last time we returned something--a fake plant--to Home Goods. We came home with a sink, and it's been chaos and change ever since! Maybe we should swap the lamps and towels for a fake plant and end this cycle of madness.
We knew that our existing space saver had to go. Much of it is particle board, and the wood-ish sticker is peeling in some sections. Our new space saver is made of real wood (bamboo), so that upgrade is complete.
But when I was looking at the photos of the new bathroom, a few things stuck out. The first issue was the soap dispenser. A white plastic Dial soap dispenser (probably still has the price sticker on it) is fine on a laminate countertop, but it looks out of place in our posh new digs. And the hand towels--they don't match. They never matched, but now that the rest of the room goes so well together, they have to match, or they'll look out of place.
Last night we went to Home Goods to remedy these issues. We picked up a bronze soap dispenser that matches (mostly) the faucet and also got some beige and green hand towels. We were getting ready to check out when a raging thunderstorm broke out, so we decided to keep shopping.
We kept wandering and discovered some lantern-style lamps that were good candidates for our living room. The current lamps, from Target, are serviceable but have some construction flaws, and we've been on the lookout for replacements.
The storm stopped, and we decided we had done enough damage--B was able to tear me away from the beautiful but enormous patio table that I was swooning over--so we paid and made tracks for home with our new decorating items.
We had only one success--the soap dispenser. The green in the towels clashes terribly with the walls (note to self: bring paint chip the next time we try to decorate our bathroom), and the lamps are wrong, wrong, wrong--too tall, too glarey, and yet not enough light. The lamps and towels are going back.
Let us remember the last time we returned something--a fake plant--to Home Goods. We came home with a sink, and it's been chaos and change ever since! Maybe we should swap the lamps and towels for a fake plant and end this cycle of madness.
Tuesday, July 1, 2008
Monday, June 30, 2008
Vacation planning 2009
Going a year without a vacation has been challenging, even though we knew that we were working toward our dream Italy vacation, plus a lovely little interlude in Germany and Austria in December. But the year's deprivation has put me on vacation overdrive, and I'm gung ho to start planning our next trip. Last night, B and I sat down and started brainstorming possible vacation destinations for 2009. Here they are, in no particular order.
OUT WEST
Las Vegas and surrounding national parks (Grand Canyon, Zion, and Bryce).
If we choose this trip, we'll have to go in May so we can see the Academy of Country Music Awards, which is (or at least was) held in Vegas. Plus we can visit a college friend of mine who is in law school in Tucson.
Vancouver and Banff.
Debatable if both could be visited easily in one trip. Banff was a secret honeymoon contender and looks amazing.
Western ski towns (but not to ski): Lake Tahoe, Denver, Vail, Aspen, and Jackson Hole.
Maybe we would run into Harrison Ford in Jackson Hole. But will we be able to take ourselves seriously if we tell people that we're vacationing in Vail?
California coast (LA to SF and above).
Including a trip to Disneyland, natch.
Portland, Oregon.
Beautiful, green, and friendly. They have great public television programs, so the city must be nice.
IN THE MIDDLE
Cedar Point roller coaster park in Ohio.
A vacation in...Ohio? Road trip, anyone?
Chicago.
Everyone who goes tells me that I would like it.
Great Lakes and their vacation resorts.
Like in Dirty Dancing, only a different part of the country.
TO THE NORTH
Toronto and Niagra Falls.
Water and Canadians everywhere!
Nova Scotia and Prince Edward Island.
The original honeymoon destination.
Alaska, or somewhere where we can see the northern lights.
Maybe as a cruise?
Train from Quebec City to western Canada.
I don't know if we're "mature" enough for train travel.
TO THE SOUTH
Southern cities: New Orleans; Savannah, Charlston, and Atlanta; or Memphis, Nashville, and St. Louis.
There's this town in Tennnessee where the fireflies light up in unison. Weird to plan your vacation around fireflies, but where else can you have such an experience?
Texas.
One pair of cowboy boots isn't enough for this country girl.
One of the big horse races: Kentucky Derby, Belmont Stakes, or the Preakness.
A trip of a lifetime. Unfortunately, you have to apply in writing for Derby tickets. Anyone have a Derby connection they can call in for us? I can go hat shopping on a moment's notice.
F1 race in Miami/Florida Keys/Key West
We ruled out Nascar, but F1 might be interesting.
The Ozarks.
In beautiful, scenic....Arkansas?
Albuquerque and Taos.
A chance to buy more art for our home (some of us think of shopping opportunities first).
EVEN SOUTHER
Costa Rica, Belize, Honduras, or Panama.
Beaches and mosquitoes.
Cabo San Lucas.
B’s personal favorite. We could hobnob with Joe Simpson.
Brazil or Argentina.
Apparently, Buenos Aires is the Paris of South America.
Tropical: St. John, Turks & Caicos, Curacao, or a cruise to Bermuda.
Who doesn’t like the idea of an island getaway?
POSSIBLE ONLY IF WE WIN THE LOTTERY
Sad but true. After Germany this winter, we're probably going to be done with Euros and expensive flights for a while.
Japan.
Scandinavia.
Ireland.
Hawaii.
Iceland.
Our next step is to create a short list of nominees, potentially with an awards ceremony and mock acceptance speeches, followed by the booking of airline tickets and revelry in the streets. Bring on the bacchanalia.
Sunday, June 29, 2008
Brand new bathroom
Our bathroom renovation project is finished with only minor casualties to report.
Here's how we (and by we, I mostly mean B) acccomplished the project.
1. Remove tile from the wall.
The former owners put brown tile on the wall which looked just ok with our red bathroom but which wouldn't work with our new bathroom. Off it came! B used a special Dremel attachment and a chisel. He discovered that the tile had been mounted on plaster, which meant that he had to do step 3.
2. Remove the top from the vanity.
I wasn't even home when B did this, but he said it was easy. We're not sure what to do with it, but it's perfectly functional and still has a sink, faucet, and drain. I was hoping we could donate it to Habitat for Humanity, but the single effort that I made toward this end was not productive--will have to try calling this week.
3. Replaster the indented parts where the tile was.
This multi-day process (plaster, let it dry, then sand; repeat) resulted in a lot of plaster dust blowing around the downstairs. But the end result was great.
4. Paint!
Here's where I got involved. My first choice was a mauve-y red, but the color in the sink was more mauve than red, and in a darkened room the paint chip looked brownish, and I was concerned that the room would not harmonize with the rest of the house. House harmony is important. A better option was green, which is in both the sink and the rest of the house. First, I touched up the corners where the wall meets ceiling using white ceiling paint, and then we taped and started painting.
Two years ago when we first painted the bathroom, we had an epic disagreement over painting style, but we've come a long way since then. Our only minor tiff came when I saw that B was getting paint on the ceiling. We switched jobs--I painted high and he painted low--and we were good to go. (I got paint on the ceiling, too--we're going to have to touch up again.)
We did two coats of a tinted primer (which we will reuse when we paint our hallway a lighter green and cover up the--of course--brown that the former owners chose) followed by two coats of the chosen green, and then we let it dry over night. I was amazed at how well the green covered the red. After the two coats of primer, you couldn't even tell that the walls had been red. This principle is well known to make-up-wearing women--you use green powder to tone down a reddish face. As my problem is usually the absence of color, you won't find any green powder in my make-up kit.
5. Assemble our new space saver/etagere.
We did this step between coats of paint. The etagere is made of bamboo and came from Overstock, and it was mostly a good purchase. The intructions were ok, but B had to perform some handyman work to adapt it to fit in the space that we have. No matter--it looks great now, and good thing, because we had to assemble it in place and can never remove it without destroying it. I hope the future owners of our condo like it because they will be inheriting it.
The new etagere offers more storage than the previous etagere, which I was considering moving to my bathroom. I'm not sure if I can stand to keep it in the house anymore, so I think it will be joining the mosaic table and computer desk at the Salvation Army. Slowly, slowly, we rid ourselves of our particle board furnishings.
6. Reattach the mirror, towel rack, and door.
Easy as pie, for me, anyway. B did the heavy lifting. I held the screwdriver.
7. Attach the new granite vanity top.
This step was a little tricky because our wall corner was greater than 90 degrees, so the granite didn't sit flush against both sides. No worries--we tried to make it equidistant from each edge and hoped that the side- and backsplashes would hide the fudging. And they do.
8. Attach the sink, faucet, and drain, and hook up the plumbing.
I'm not sure what B did, but there was a leak and some angry words. But now it's all better.
And now we have a working sink and a brand-new bathroom! I love the wall color, the sink, the granite, the faucet, and especially the way that they look together. We accomplished a huge value-added renovation at a pretty low cost (compared to most bathroom renovations, anyway). Keeping the existing vanity was a big saver, and it looks fantastic with its new topper.
(The green didn't come through well on the cell phone camera--in person, it looks like the color of edamame pods.)
Oh, so there was a casualty. It's minor. In the middle of painting, the outlet stopped working, and our working light went out. And the outlet is still on strike. I theorized that plaster dust worked its way in there and did something bad. But the good news is that we never use that outlet! Hooray--that means we don't have to fix it!
Here's how we (and by we, I mostly mean B) acccomplished the project.
1. Remove tile from the wall. The former owners put brown tile on the wall which looked just ok with our red bathroom but which wouldn't work with our new bathroom. Off it came! B used a special Dremel attachment and a chisel. He discovered that the tile had been mounted on plaster, which meant that he had to do step 3.
2. Remove the top from the vanity.
I wasn't even home when B did this, but he said it was easy. We're not sure what to do with it, but it's perfectly functional and still has a sink, faucet, and drain. I was hoping we could donate it to Habitat for Humanity, but the single effort that I made toward this end was not productive--will have to try calling this week.
3. Replaster the indented parts where the tile was.
This multi-day process (plaster, let it dry, then sand; repeat) resulted in a lot of plaster dust blowing around the downstairs. But the end result was great.
4. Paint!
Here's where I got involved. My first choice was a mauve-y red, but the color in the sink was more mauve than red, and in a darkened room the paint chip looked brownish, and I was concerned that the room would not harmonize with the rest of the house. House harmony is important. A better option was green, which is in both the sink and the rest of the house. First, I touched up the corners where the wall meets ceiling using white ceiling paint, and then we taped and started painting.
Two years ago when we first painted the bathroom, we had an epic disagreement over painting style, but we've come a long way since then. Our only minor tiff came when I saw that B was getting paint on the ceiling. We switched jobs--I painted high and he painted low--and we were good to go. (I got paint on the ceiling, too--we're going to have to touch up again.)
We did two coats of a tinted primer (which we will reuse when we paint our hallway a lighter green and cover up the--of course--brown that the former owners chose) followed by two coats of the chosen green, and then we let it dry over night. I was amazed at how well the green covered the red. After the two coats of primer, you couldn't even tell that the walls had been red. This principle is well known to make-up-wearing women--you use green powder to tone down a reddish face. As my problem is usually the absence of color, you won't find any green powder in my make-up kit.
5. Assemble our new space saver/etagere.
We did this step between coats of paint. The etagere is made of bamboo and came from Overstock, and it was mostly a good purchase. The intructions were ok, but B had to perform some handyman work to adapt it to fit in the space that we have. No matter--it looks great now, and good thing, because we had to assemble it in place and can never remove it without destroying it. I hope the future owners of our condo like it because they will be inheriting it.
The new etagere offers more storage than the previous etagere, which I was considering moving to my bathroom. I'm not sure if I can stand to keep it in the house anymore, so I think it will be joining the mosaic table and computer desk at the Salvation Army. Slowly, slowly, we rid ourselves of our particle board furnishings.
6. Reattach the mirror, towel rack, and door.
Easy as pie, for me, anyway. B did the heavy lifting. I held the screwdriver.
7. Attach the new granite vanity top.
This step was a little tricky because our wall corner was greater than 90 degrees, so the granite didn't sit flush against both sides. No worries--we tried to make it equidistant from each edge and hoped that the side- and backsplashes would hide the fudging. And they do.
8. Attach the sink, faucet, and drain, and hook up the plumbing.
I'm not sure what B did, but there was a leak and some angry words. But now it's all better.
And now we have a working sink and a brand-new bathroom! I love the wall color, the sink, the granite, the faucet, and especially the way that they look together. We accomplished a huge value-added renovation at a pretty low cost (compared to most bathroom renovations, anyway). Keeping the existing vanity was a big saver, and it looks fantastic with its new topper.
(The green didn't come through well on the cell phone camera--in person, it looks like the color of edamame pods.)
Oh, so there was a casualty. It's minor. In the middle of painting, the outlet stopped working, and our working light went out. And the outlet is still on strike. I theorized that plaster dust worked its way in there and did something bad. But the good news is that we never use that outlet! Hooray--that means we don't have to fix it!
Friday, June 27, 2008
Tomato tragedy
During my less nutritionally oriented college years, most of the food that I bought at the grocery store, including dinners, side dishes, and snacks, came in boxes. The exception was ice cream--I go for the primo stuff in the pint-sized cartons--but we'll leave ice cream out of the discussion, as its nutritional value is debatable.
After I graduated from college, I ventured outside the boxed world and bought food with expiration dates--what a novel idea. I tried a pepper for the first time at age 24 and realized that it was time to enter a brave new vegetable world.
Since then, I've been incorporating additional vegetables into my diet, but never the tomato. It had a suspicious texture and unusual flavor, and I avoided it at all costs.
I avoided the tomato until our honeymoon in France, that is. One night, B ordered a tomato and mozzarella appetizer, and I was feeling adventurous and world traveler-y, so I tried it--and wow. I couldn't believe I had been avoiding the deliciousness and amazingness that is the tomato. Granted, the mozzarella and aged balsalmic vinaigrette contributed to the bold flavors of the dish, but the tomato held its own against those competitive ingredients.
Since the 'moon, I've been dabbling in--even seeking out--tomatoes. I no longer remove them from my salads, and I even add them to burgers. This summer, we've gone so far as to have tomato side dishes at dinner.
And then this tomato/salmonella situation struck--disaster! I've only just discovered tomatoes, and now I'm supposed to avoid them? I think not! Cherry and grape tomatoes and tomatoes on the vine are allegedly safe, and they're conveiently the types of tomatoes that we buy, so there's no need for a tomato moratorium, so far. I don't think we'd survive without them. The main attraction at last night's dinner was a pint of cherry tomatoes (halved), a couple of tomatoes on the vine (cubed), a ball of mozzarella (cubed), and a delicious balsalmic sauce that B concocted. We ate the entire (enormous) bowl--and it was heaven.
Salmonella be darned! Bring on the tomatoes!
After I graduated from college, I ventured outside the boxed world and bought food with expiration dates--what a novel idea. I tried a pepper for the first time at age 24 and realized that it was time to enter a brave new vegetable world.
Since then, I've been incorporating additional vegetables into my diet, but never the tomato. It had a suspicious texture and unusual flavor, and I avoided it at all costs.
I avoided the tomato until our honeymoon in France, that is. One night, B ordered a tomato and mozzarella appetizer, and I was feeling adventurous and world traveler-y, so I tried it--and wow. I couldn't believe I had been avoiding the deliciousness and amazingness that is the tomato. Granted, the mozzarella and aged balsalmic vinaigrette contributed to the bold flavors of the dish, but the tomato held its own against those competitive ingredients.
Since the 'moon, I've been dabbling in--even seeking out--tomatoes. I no longer remove them from my salads, and I even add them to burgers. This summer, we've gone so far as to have tomato side dishes at dinner.
And then this tomato/salmonella situation struck--disaster! I've only just discovered tomatoes, and now I'm supposed to avoid them? I think not! Cherry and grape tomatoes and tomatoes on the vine are allegedly safe, and they're conveiently the types of tomatoes that we buy, so there's no need for a tomato moratorium, so far. I don't think we'd survive without them. The main attraction at last night's dinner was a pint of cherry tomatoes (halved), a couple of tomatoes on the vine (cubed), a ball of mozzarella (cubed), and a delicious balsalmic sauce that B concocted. We ate the entire (enormous) bowl--and it was heaven.
Salmonella be darned! Bring on the tomatoes!
Thursday, June 26, 2008
Cavity-free club
This afternoon's dentist visit confirmed it--I am still a member in good standing of the cavity-free club. And I got the dental hygienist who doesn't deliver long and scary lectures about what happens to those terrible, horrible, no good, very bad people who--gasp!--don't floss.
A couple of visits ago, they found a soft spot on one of my molars, and they said that with any other person, they would have drilled and filled (my terminology, not my dentist's). But my dentist said that I just don't have the bacteria that causes cavities, and she wanted to wait and watch. I'm not the living science lesson that B is--his absent wisdom teeth are a sign of evolution--but being free of bad bacteria is good enough for me.
And sure enough, that soft spot cleared itself right up (regenerating teeth? Maybe I am a freak of science...).
Or maybe brushing my teeth 5+ times per day had something to do with my miraculous recovery.
A couple of visits ago, they found a soft spot on one of my molars, and they said that with any other person, they would have drilled and filled (my terminology, not my dentist's). But my dentist said that I just don't have the bacteria that causes cavities, and she wanted to wait and watch. I'm not the living science lesson that B is--his absent wisdom teeth are a sign of evolution--but being free of bad bacteria is good enough for me.
And sure enough, that soft spot cleared itself right up (regenerating teeth? Maybe I am a freak of science...).
Or maybe brushing my teeth 5+ times per day had something to do with my miraculous recovery.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)