Overcoming the Overnight Bus

9 Mar 20120304-205609.jpg

If anyone ever tells you that the sleeper bus between Mapusa and Pune in India is “easy and nice”, don’t believe them.

The plan was to head father south in Goa to Palolem beach and then head back up north, but when we calculated the cost/difficulty of making the trip, the whole thing seemed a lot less desirable.

One day I’ll have to spend a few weeks wandering the coasts of Goa. The week I spent in Arambol was just enough to capture my heart. The days are lazy in the hot sun and Fresh Lime Sodas flow like beach nectar from the restaurant cabana boys. As long as you order something from the restaurant, you can use the sun chairs of the place all day long if you wish, and at less than $.50 a drink, that’s not a bad gig. The beach of Arambol is lined with these bamboo and thatch makeshift watering holes, which are torn down and reconstructed every year for monsoon season. Every evening, the tides retreat and the breeze picks up and the hippies (who have been making Arambol home since the 60′s) come out to play set against a hot pink sunset. A drum circle holding lots of swaying, no holds barred dancers fills the beach with inspiration. I must mention that even though I wanted to laugh at times, watching those men and women dance with such reckless abandon was incredibly eye opening. It made me think about all the times I catch myself worried about what other people will think or who is watching me, and I vowed to incorporate a little more hippie/country music method into my life and learn to “dance like no one is watching.”

Back to the bus. I was having a rough day, I won’t bore you with details but as we all know too well: change is hard and sometimes were all bound to be dissapointed.

Sometimes when things fall apart it’s because we are supposed to put them back together in a different order. If there is one thing I’ve learned as a traveler, it’s that most people don’t have the luxury of choice. I do, so I plan to use it.

Everything was up in the air and if we went to Palolem not only would it be rushed, expensive and difficult, but it would also mean losing our beloved Mary, who had been with us for over a week already. So, I put my faith in Steph to make a plan while my brain was being selfish and unable to concentrate on anything other than my heartache (this is why best friends are handy). After an LP check (traveler lingo for looking in the Lonely Planet guidebook) she made the executive decision that we would join Mary in Pune via sleeper bus that night.

“Well the girl in the booking office said she’d been on the bus before and it was nice and easy!” I said. And off we went to book the tickets. Well, the bus is nice and easy, after yogurt through the 3 hours of horrible roads on the way to the freeway. Stephanie and I had booked into a double sleeper compartment on the top bunk for the night. All I can say is that “sleeper bus” is a serious term of endearment, because we couldn’t sleep a wink. Just as we’d start to drift off we’d hit a pot hole or what felt like running over a buffalo and be launched into the air, narrowly escaping me falling into the aisle or Stephanie rolling out the window. Miraculously, the Indian people had no trouble sleeping so soundly that they were snoring, even through the sounds of Stephanie and I’s raucous laughter. Luckily (or unluckily) Mary had a stash of Valium, and we figured if there was ever a time to try it, that was it.

Note: Let me be clear, taking Valium was a stupid move. I have a high tolerance for medication, but if I didn’t I could have been so out of it that I’d been taken advantage of or stolen from. Never take sleeping pills or any other disorienting medication on overnight public journeys, especially if you in a foreign country and extra especially if you are alone.

Ok, bases covered. Like I said, the three of us have high tolerances, so the most it did was make the journey even funnier and hurt less when we bashed into the sides of the bus. Then something magical happened, we fell asleep. Just as we reached the freeway, the road smoothed out and it was like we weren’t even moving. That’s because we weren’t, the bus had broken down.

After a while, we dragged our stuff from the sleeper bus we had paid for to the overcrowded seat bus waiting to finish the journey. Ok, fine, I have to sit up and sleep, been there done that. But wait, the two Indian men in front of me want to recline into my lap. Ok, I’ll deal. Oh, the family of five across the aisle is feeling motion sick and is a cacophony of vomit sounds? Phew, ok, deep breath, nobody said traveling is easy all the time (or at all). Wait, Wait, Wait, you want your 3 year old daughter to sleep in my lap for 3 hours? Oh my god. Ok, come on.

As that mother woke me up, had me sit up and set her daughter on my lap, I felt the frustrations of the day and of my life slipping from my mind. And do you know why? Because I realized that they are completely out of my control. The week before had been trying, dealing with a big letdown and the following moral dilemma was leaving me with a lot of worry lines growing on my forehead. I learned on that treacherous journey that I have to learn to accept that nobody is perfect, rarely are people what we think they are (good or bad) and that no matter how bad I think I might have it, I’ve got it SO good.

That little girl curled up on my lap, fell fast asleep and felt safe with me. For some unknown reason, Indian women trust an American girl like me with anything, even their kids, because they think that being American means I’ve got my shit together. At first I’d say she is so wrong, but maybe she’s onto something. I don’t think it has anything to do with being American, but I do have a good head on my shoulders and a lot of opportunities most of these people couldn’t dream of. I am trustworthy, loyal and I stick to my word.

Tags: , , , , ,

The Night the One Sided Indian Love Story Began

4 Mar 20120304-201548.jpg

From the moment Stephanie, Mary (our new travel mate from California/Everywhere who we met at baggage claim in Mumbai) and I stepped foot in India, it was clear this was going to be a shit show. Thank Ganesh (the Hindi God in charge of removing obstacles) we had Mary, who was all around wiser in the ways of Mother India and not a first timer like us. She shepherded us like a herd of turtles into a taxi and we asked her to join us at the luxurious Hotel Pearl; which was more like one of those hole restaurants that you hardly dare to look at but are “really good inside I swear”.

From there on out it went like this:
-Taxi to Mumbai Harbour to look around
-Taj Hotel (very niiice)
-Big Bombay Balloon Bamboozle: Indian men trying to sell us 10 medium size balloons by showing us one super massive 4′ balloon with “BOOM! BIG VOLUME!!!” (totally almost bought one)
-Someone says (probably me) “Hey, let’s take the local train home!”
-3 hour local train pushing/shoving/biting match on the WOMEN’S car with approximately 3000 pissed off Sari totin’ Indian chicks (plus Steph bought some rad $.25 nail polish ON the train, score!)
-6am EMERGENCY train ticket to Panjim, Goa on India’s Southwest coast for Carnival shenanigans. Spent all day getting Chai high and eating assorted pancakes and fried things, plus making loads of new friends.
-Buy fairy wings, ridiculous whistle hats, glittery masks
-Carnival cancelled due to bus running into the river (only in India)
-Immediately get ON BUS to northern beach town of Calangute, which should be called town of 99,999 men and approximately 3 women (us), for fabled trance party
-Search for room, all of which are booked out due to carnival, with no luck. convince hotel to give us staff room (“it’s ok madam, staff sleep on roof”)
-Trance party cancelled due to elections (crap)
-11am local bus playing best bollywood mix tape ever to Arambol Beach (hippy drum circle haven)
-Book into beautiful beachside coco hut indefinitely
-Drink beer and exhale one long curse word
-Infamous Rum Party

20120304-201514.jpg

20120304-201241.jpg

20120304-201259.jpg

20120304-201317.jpg

20120304-201339.jpg

Let me tell you a bit more about the rum party.
Now, Goa is usually known as the party capital of India, famed for its late night beach trance parties. Lucky for us, and I mean that in the most sarcastic way possible, we arrived just in the nick of time for elections, which coincidentally means that for two months all fun must cease at 9pm. No noise, no bars, no trance parties. Terrible planning, India, terrible.
But, there are a lot of things to fall in love with in beautiful, dirty, glorious, overwhelming India. You could choose to become enamored with the smell of spices wafting from kitchens to your doorstep, the sound of the ocean from your coco hut on the hillside or the bright smiles and wide eyes of a people facing such adversity. Alas, Indians (particularly the male variety) have something to fall in love with too: white girls.
I don’t know if you know this or not but Steph and I are pretty good at making friends everywhere we go. So when the nice, young (and kinda cute) Indian boys from the jewelry/carved elephants (only the essentials) store downstairs invited us to a little party, we had to oblige. Everything was going great, the setting on the beach was beautiful, we made friends with four Austrian hippies who passed by and the Old Monk (local Goan rum) was flowing freely. Even our Indian hosts were singing us Bollywood hits and teaching us some Hindi (which we never could pronounce right). Around midnight, the party moved inside for a few card games and laughs. Sounds innocent enough right? Well one thing I can tell you I’ve learned about Indian culture is that “sure, we’ll have a few drinks with you guys!” actually translates into Hindi as “I am now your one and only girlfriend, it’s a matter of time before we’re married so we should probably start acting like a couple straight away.” This is when the arms over the shoulder, awkward stares and offers for “just one more drink, I swear” began. In about 10 minutes all three of us were running out of that shop with screams about fictitious muscley husbands who could kill a man with his bare hands if he really wanted to. We retreated to our rooms still pure, praise Krishna.
I wasn’t mad though, not at them anyways. Im sure those guys do have weekend flings with lots of foreign travelers and we weren’t keen on the body language. These are the kinds of things I have to learn on this trip, not everywhere I go is so accepting of my outgoing personality. At home or in western countries, my crazy joke loving self is the life of the party, but here in India, and many other countries where women are expected to behave certain ways, all I’m saying is that I’m interested and easy (neither of which are true.) As an American, I’m expected to be, and even prone to, closed mindedness. I’ve always strived to steer away from the stereotypical American stigma, and over the last 14 months of traveling I’ve learned to challenge my own way of thinking in so many ways. In the end we made it pretty clear that we just wanted to be friends and everybody seemed ok with it, in fact we are still good friends with Johnny, Max, and Maroof (Maroof, Maroof, Maroof is on fire!) We can laugh that even though we all might be different colors and think differently, were all basically the same.

20120304-201601.jpg

20120304-201459.jpg

20120304-201442.jpg

20120304-201428.jpg

20120304-201407.jpg

20120304-201548.jpg
Someone in my life once told me that he loved me because I was crazy, but that sometimes I have to be a good Persian girl. I think that’s probably true.

I know there is no recipe on this post, and that is because I’ve spent the last two weeks stuffing my face with Indian food instead of making any, but I assure you I’ll make up for it in the near future!

Keep Things Sweet,
Jenni Jane

Tags: , , , , , , , ,

How To Be Cheap & Easy In London

24 Jan

London is nothing new for me, I’ve been going there since I was a young girl, but this time was a whole new experience! My friend Stephanie and I left this week on the start of our 6 month adventure around the world and london was stop numero uno.

I know I haven’t really been around much lately, what with working 5 jobs to save up for this trip, including programming and setting up a brand new blog (yay! Details coming soon!), I’ve barely had time to take my shoes off let alone do anything worthy of a blog post.

But, alas, here I am again, on the road and getting into mischief. One thing I’ve come to learn this last week is that there’s traveling on a budget and the there is *traveling on a budget*, and this time around is the serious version. Because London is freaking expensive!!! But like a couple of champs, we found some great free and cheap things to do, took out the chevrolegs and never had a dull moment. So I thought I’d share with you my top 5 free/cheap London attractions (in no particular order):

1. Museums! Steph and I started a tradition (which may never happen again, we shall see) of Museum Monday. Like NYC, London is awesome on the free museum front. Almost all museums offer free admission, but you might have to pay a small price for some special exhibitions. Among my favorites are:

Victoria and Albert Museum (free admission): awesome museum covering the history of art and interior design, in every sense. This museum has one of the largest collections of silver and gold as well as awesome modern design collections and the most fantastic special exhibits.

20120124-165422.jpg

Tate Modern (free admission): the Tate Modern is the equivalent of the MOMA in NYC, a super bad ass modern art and design museum with the design elements as awesome as the guggenheim.

British Museum (free admission): a massive collection of international art and history, the highlight of which was the Rosetta Stone. You could seriously spend an entire day in this place.

20120124-165437.jpg

20120124-165503.jpg
The philosophers in stone… Get it?? Eh? Eh? #harrypotterhumor

2. Free Walking Tours: the art of the self guided tour is one you should quickly master if you are as broke and nerdy as Steph and I are. Being two major Harry Potterfiles, we just had to spend a day seeing all the fantastically nerdy HP sites in the city. Problem was, we didn’t want to spend $50 on a tour. A quick google later and we came upon a planned out tour complete with step by step directions and information on where we were going. The tour also included great extra information and stops not related to Harry Potter but were really interesting. This was also a fantastic way to get to know the city on foot as it took you all over the place. I got my tour at discovery walks

20120124-165611.jpg
were being death eaters!
20120124-172544.jpg<
entering the ministry of magic!

20120124-172754.jpg

3. London Markets
London is well known for its fantastic markets that go on all throughout the week. I personally love to window shop and London fashion always impresses. One of my favorite markets is the Camden Lock Market. Actually the entire neighborhood of Camden is amazing, being well known for its own particular brand of awesome. Camden is the birthplace of originality and individualism, where any fashion, lifestyle or type of person is accepted with open arms. Its a vibrant music, fashion, art and culinary area and I always feel at home here. Plus, the super cheap Chinese takeaway doesn’t hurt.
If your up for a day of marketing, be sure to also check out the
Portobello road market in Notting Hill on Saturdays or the South Bank antiques/book markets on the weekends.

20120124-172734.jpg

Giants donuts at the Camden lock market! 3/1£ at the end of the day!!

4. Sunday Roast: it’s the small pleasures in life, yes? That’s why after a long day of being relentlessly cheap, steph and I didn’t mind spending a little on a Sunday roast dinner. Sunday roasts are a staple of English food, and well they should be because it’s my kind of eatin’. Basically it’s a huge plate of roast meat, a bunch of delicious veggie sides, Yorkshire pudding and the whole thing is covered in gravy. Yumzo.
If you find yourself in islington on a Sunday, make your way to the Winchester Pub on ___ road. Besides having the same name as the pub in Shaun of the Dead (which is reason enough to go) they serve up a mean TWO FOR ONE roast on Sundays all day long until 9pm!!! On top of all that, the winchester has an adorably vintage charm and a candlelit ambience. All this for only 14 pounds and it’s the best deal for a good meal on sunday in London.

20120124-172558.jpg

20120124-172610.jpg

20120124-172623.jpg

20120124-172648.jpg

20120124-172704.jpg

5. Jack The Ripper Tour (£8/person, make reservations ahead online)
Ive been on several jack the ripper tours in London and enjoyed every one of them, but seeing as steph and I are both lovers of the macabre, we decided to try another one. The original Jack The Ripper Tour was amazing! It lasted around 3 hours from start to finish and was chock full of really interested information. The best part about it for me was the fact that our tour guide, Jenny (cool points!) was armed with tons of photographs of the areas we went as they would have looked in 1688, photos straight from the evidence stacks and even gruesome scene of the crime photos. Jenny knew so much about jack the ripper it was scary! See what I did there?

20120124-165543.jpg

In honor of being cheap and British (just how I like it!) I bring to you a recipe for fish and chips, the original cheap English food (primarily right before or right after a hangover commences)

Cheap ‘n Easy Fish ‘n Chips

20120124-170416.jpg

you’ll need:

Sunflower or vegetable oil for frying (traditionally the Brits use beef drippings, but unless you have some on hand, oil will do)

fish

4 x 175g/6oz thick cod or haddock fillets, taken from the head end rather than the tail end of the fish
225g/8oz self-raising flour, plus extra for dusting
salt and freshly ground black pepper
300ml/10fl oz fridge-cold lager

chips
6-8 large floury potatoes, such as maris piper, king edward, desiree (depending on how hungry you are)

method:

Preheat the oven to 150C/300F and heat the dripping or oil to 120C/250F in a deep fryer or deep pot on the stove.
For the chips, peel the potatoes and cut into whatever size you prefer. Wash well in cold water, drain and pat dry with a clean tea towel. Put the potatoes into the fryer and allow them to fry gently for about 8-10 minutes, until they are soft but still pale. Check they’re cooked by piercing with a small, sharp knife. Lift out of the pan and leave to cool slightly on greaseproof paper.
Increase the heat of the fryer to 180C/350F.
Season the fish and dust lightly with flour; this enables the batter to stick to the fish.
To make the batter, sift the flour and a pinch of salt into a large bowl and whisk in the lager to make a thick batter, adding a little extra beer if it seems over-thick. It should be the consistency of very thick double cream and should coat the back of a wooden spoon. Season with salt and thickly coat 2 of the fillets with the batter. Carefully place in the hot fat and cook for 8-10 minutes until golden and crispy. Remove from the pan, drain and sit on a baking sheet lined with greaseproof paper, then keep warm in the oven while you cook the remaining 2 fillets in the same way.
Once the fish is cooked, return the chips to the fryer and cook for 2-3 minutes or until golden and crispy. Shake off any excess fat and season with salt before serving with the crispy fish. If you can find them, serve the whole lot with malted vinegar for the chips and a side of mushy peas, which come in a can. To be really cute and authentic, present the whole thing on a piece of newspaper on a plate, the way they do in the UK.

Feel like classing it up? Make a pocket in the cod pieces and stuff with a generous slice of salted butter (herbed or flavored butter if you have it handy) before frying and use sweet potatoes for your chips.

Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Back to the Grindstone: Life As A Hard Working Woman and Cozy Butternut Soup with Rustic Irish Soda Bread

27 Nov IMG_3137

Have you ever been jealous of Dolly Parton? I am on a regular basis, but particularly now. I would LOVE to work “nine to fiiivvee” instead of working “al-al-wayys”, although I am working hard to make a living. I spent my two weeks in London sitting on friends couches fretting over what’s next in my life. Am I ready to settle down and put my nose to the grind? Should I keep traveling? Should I head home for the holidays? What about an apartment? What about said job? Phew… Way too much to think about. Because I missed my family and I was planning on going home for Christmas anyways, I decided to just head home early and try to find some seasonal work. I could figure the rest out later.

When I left London, it was business as usual, a plane ticket in my pocket and literally nothing else figured out. Before I left, I sent out a few job inquiries and hadn’t really sorted much out. But low and behold, during the 24 hours from when I departed Gatwick and landed at DFW, I had 3 interviews lined up for the next day. Thanks to my AMAAAAZING friend Emily for being my biggest advocate, and of course the genius that is craigslist, I was ready to hit the ground running, as soon as I got off the tarmac.

Over the next few days, I set up another one of my famous schedules that is becoming my go-to make money scheme, literally working ALL THE TIME. Except this time, I’m doing everything I love to do.

I split my week up between cheffing at The Festive Kitchen, a top 10 Dallas catering company, and designing a new blog for one of the top showrooms in the country. On top of that I work as an event photographer in the evenings and Sundays are dedicated to freelance web/graphic design clients. Its a busy lifestyle but I adore it. The best part is that I’m always having fun and like always, I have the strong motivator of traveling to keep me going.

That’s right, dear readers, I am going traveling again. I have a return flight to London on January 11 and this time my best girlfriend Stephanie is joining in on the fun! Steph and I are flying to London and havent really planned much beyond that, although we know we want to see Scotland and Ireland, India and some more of South East Asia! More updates to come as soon as we actually make a plan, which is unlikely considering were both pretty happy with planless travel. Steph is a fantastic writer and has joined the travel blogger ranks! There will be more to read as soon as we’ve started, but take a look now at her prep posts! Check it out at www.iammydestiny.wordpress.com

In the mean time, I’m looking into what I will do when I return. I’ve got some great friends in the business here in Dallas and I think it would make a nice place to return to a “real job” after my second travel stint. Over the next month or so I’ll hopefully be interviewing in hopes of finding a permanent position to return to. Soooo, if you love me and you are in the design industry, this girls lookin for a J-O-B!

In the spirit of hardworking people, I thought I’d post a scrumptious fall flavored working mans meal, Butternut Squash Soup with Rustic Irish Soda Bread. Irish Soda Bread is served with almost every meal in Ireland, due to the fact that its cheap, easy and OMGDELICIOUS. If you’ve ever been intimidated by making your own bread, similar to how I start to hyperventilate at the thought of measuring cups, then this is for you. Its super easy, contains, like, no ingredients and only needs to be kneaded (see what I did there?) once.

As far as the soup, you couldn’t get much easier, its creamy and delicious and makes the perfect dipper for the bread. On these cold winter nights (speaking of, I AM in Texas right? When did Texas become a place that had winter?) we all need a cozy cup of soup.

Creamy Butternut Squash Soup

you’ll need:

2 lbs butternut squash, peeled, seeded and diced into 1 inch cubes (they have this at costco already prepped, score!)

1 1/2 cups diced yellow onion

2 carrots, peeled and diced

3 (14 oz cans) chicken broth

1/2 teaspoon salt

2 tablespoons butter

1/2 cup light or heavy cream

sour cream for garnish

method:

In a medium sauce pan, combine squash, onions and carrots over medium heat. Saute vegetables 3-5 minutes or until the onions start to sweat (meaning they start looking a tiny bit translucent). Add broth and salt and simmer, uncovered, until squash is very tender, about 40 minutes. Add butter and puree soup in a blender, food processor, or, if you have one, a hand blender until smooth. Finish by whisking in cream and letting simmer over medium heat 2-4 minutes more. Serve in wide white bowls with a dollop of sour cream in the center!

Rustic Irish Soda Bread

you’ll need:

4 cups all purpose flour

4 tablespoons white sugar

1 teaspoon baking soda

1 tablespoon baking powder

1/2 teaspoon salt

1/2 cup margarine, softened

1 cup buttermilk

1 egg

1/4 cup butter, melted

1/4 cup buttermilk

method:

preheat oven to 375 F (190 C) and lightly grease a baking sheet.

In a large bowl, or if you have a stand mixer with a dough hook use that, mix together flour, sugar, baking soda, baking powder, salt and margarine.

Stir in 1 cup of buttermilk and egg and combine. If your dough is too dry, add a little buttermilk until it just starts to stick together. Be careful not to make your dough soggy! Turn dough lightly out onto a lightly floured surface and knead lightly. Form a round with your dough and place onto the center of the prepared baking sheet.

In a small bowl, combine the 1/4 cup melted butter and 1/4 cup buttermilk and brush dough with the mixture. Using a sharp knife, press and “X” shape into the top of the dough, pushing down about halfway through the dough.

Bake in your preheated oven for 45-50 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted into the center of the loaf comes out clean. Continue to brush the loaf with the butter mixture a few times while it bakes.

Serve it warm with your soup or make breakfast toast with butter and jam. Yums!

Tags: , , , ,

Guest Post: Monaco is Eating My Wallet and Iranian Food

11 Oct euro eating

I’m not exactly in reverse culture shock because I haven’t gone back home yet, but I am definitely not in Kansas anymore. Lets call it trans culture shock. Where did all the Asians go? Where are all the noodles? Why does everything cost my entire life savings? All this and more will be explored in this post.

I had to have gotten my wanderlust from somewhere, It can’t just be random. Considering my parents have seen about 50% of the world so far in their lives and they show no sign of stopping, I’d venture to guess I got it from them. Each time my parents take one of their fabulously fabulous trips (think totally opposite to my trip, with cushy beds, wealthy friends and probably some diamonds or rubies strewn around) my father writes a wonderfully insightful bi- or tri-weekly travelogue, which he sends out via email. My father is probably also where I get my writing style and sense of humor from, so it only seems fitting that I grace him with the unbelievable honor of appearing on my blog. I’ll be sharing updates from him when I get them, and every now and again I’ll be sure to include a flashback post of something he wrote a while ago.

This post is about a trip around the Mediterranean they took and I see it as only fitting to share now considering the financially centered panic attacks I’ve been enjoying over the last few days.  Its comforting to know that even people with the means to travel in Europe find it outrageously expensive.  However it is also disconcerting to realize that if its too much for them, am I going to combust any moment now?  Maybe I’m not even allowed to be here.  I’m tempted to stay indoors and hide under the bed, but I’m sure there’s a troll living under there that would charge me 100 Euro. My dad has an unrelenting talent of being honest, a little too straightforward and hilarious at the same time. While I might not agree with everything he says in his reviews, I also revere him as the smartest guy I know. So I guess you win some you lose some. :)

Love you Farger.
Love you Mama.

Keep Things Sweet,
Jenni Jane


Monaco is Eating My Wallet 

The trouble with Italian cultural attractions is that they are covered up with Italians (and Japanese and Germans and Americans and every other nationality you can think of).  Today the Pitti Palace, the Boboli Gardens and the Uffizi Museum were wall-to-wall with tourists.  And it’s after the season!  Those wily little Japanese rascals come from a very crowded country and they are definitely not to be trifled with when it comes to maneuvering in a crowd.  Hesitate to step into an opening for an instant and you will have to wait until the entire tour goes by.  Try to break in and you will be pummeled to the floor by dangling camera equipment.
On top of the cost of the car, driver and guide the admission tickets today cost €110 ($154).  Three espressos and a croissant got me for another $24.50, and they charge these prices with a straight face.  Tourists in Italy are an easy mark and there to be fleeced as the locals see it.  Mark Twain was right when he said in Innocents Abroad (1878) “They examine passports on the Italian frontier for fear an honest man may slip in.”
This acquisition of culture thing is a tedious affair.  Just trying to figure out who is who and keep them straight is a major challenge.  Is it Tiziano Vecellio or Titian?  Jacopo Comin or Tintoretto?  Is Michelangelo Merisi de Caravaggio Michelangelo or Caravaggio?  Whichever one it is they all seem to have had the same obsession with painting bare female breasts.  The really curious thing is that all of the Renaissance breasts look exactly the same, almost as if they used the same 19 year-old for a model.  My guess is no one wanted to take the chance of doing a painting with age-appropriate-looking breasts. Patrons could be merciless if they weren’t flattered or didn’t like your work.   Male Renaissance paintings on the other hand (and unlike those naughty male Roman statues) all had covered penises.  Though this was no doubt a definite cultural advance I have to say that I was considerably reassured by the Roman statues about the whole size thing, especially after adjusting for circumcision (the Romans as you know, like San Francisco, did not practice that).  I’m not as convinced about the cultural benefits of covering up breasts but I’m still thinking about it.
One of the strangest paintings we saw was titled Roman Charity by Charles Mellin.  This painting depicts a supposedly common Roman story of a daughter (Pero) breast-feeding her father (Cimon) who has been sentenced to death by starvation.   While very strange, this allegory is repeated in John Steinbeck’s The Grapes of Wrath as I recall.  This also reminded me of the England fly-fishing trip with Melissa when she had her bottle of single malt scotch appropriated at security.  Seeing the airport security guy require the man behind us to taste his wife’s breast milk bottles in order to take them on the plane led us to ask if we could taste the scotch for the same purpose?  Blatantly discriminating against us, he said no.  As if there were any doubt before, it just goes to show that tits rule.
10/10/2011 – Monte-Carlo.  Breathing costs €10 a minute here.  The private boats in the yacht basin rival our cruise ship in size, and interestingly, not one American flagged yacht.  Thank you, Mr. Obama.  We sat outside the Monte-Carlo Casino opposite the Hotel de Paris this morning, had coffee and croissants, and watched the beautiful people come and go in their beautiful cars.  They were beautifully sculpted, dressed, coiffed and bejeweled, but I’m betting they’re secretly bored stiff without the stimulating anxiety of not quite knowing how they are going to pay for their little Monaco trip.  Before long I actually got to feeling a little bit sorry for them. 
Later we got a cab to the Medieval town of Eze on the Cote d’Azur in France (between Monaco and Nice, the latter of which we hear is not so nice anymore) to have lunch at the Cháteau de la Chèvre d’Or (the house of the golden goat) overlooking the coastline from Monaco to Nice.  Our Iranian friends who had once lived here recommended this spot and it was a great recommendation.  Leaving Monaco you enter a freeway system complete with on and off ramps and stop lights inside the mountain and emerge in the Provence region of France.  Despite its name, the goat house is a spectacular hilltop hotel with an unbelievable garden and terrace views but they got us with that old “Have a glass of champagne before lunch?” trick - €35 and €38 a glass to bulk up the bill, as if it needed bulking up.  I was tempted to carve our initials in the table top in revenge but Cindy stopped me.  The legend is that the image of a golden goat will confuse a would-be thief into not being able to remember how to leave the property with his loot.  They’ve somehow managed to twist this around so that no one, be he friend or foe, is able to leave the property with their loot. Seriously though, this was by far the most beautiful and Romantic place we’ve ever been.  It puts Positano and the Amalfi Coast (especially now that the barbarian hoards have discovered it) to shame.  Cindy fell in love with it.  I may have to mortgage the house and bring Cindy back here for her 60th birthday if she turns down celebrating it with two weeks in the Ozarks.  Heck there’s nothing even remotely resembling Branson anywhere around here so it could be a hard choice for her.
Another day in Monte-Carlo tomorrow.  Send cash.
Love, Ron & Cindy

Coincidentally, both my parents and I have made great friends from Iran. Its a wonder how these things happen. In honor of our new found special people, I’d like to share a recipe Reza, my love, taught me when I spent time with him in KL a few weeks ago. (more on that later)
I don’t actually know what you call this, maybe Reza will comment with the name (hint hint) but here goes.

Basically were making Iranian Hamburgers with crispy bottom rice (yumz, you serve the crispy layer at the bottom as a side with the rest of the meal) and grilled tomatoes.
Timing is everything with this dish so instead of doing seperate recipes, I’m going to explain how you should do this all together.

 

 

Iranian Hamburgers? Browned Tomatoes and Cripsy Bottom Rice

You’ll Need:

Rice
Jasmine Rice (about 1 cup per person)
4 tablespoons vegetable oil
2 tablespoons butter
salt

Meat
1 lb ground beef
2 medium yellow onions
2 tablespoons yellow curry powder
salt
pepper
2 tablespoons olive or vegetable oil

Tomatoes
2 tomatoes
salt
1 tablespoon olive or vegetable oil

Method:
Rice
Start with the rice. Its best to use Jasmine rice, but basmati is ok too. Do not use quick cook rice or anything with too short of a grain as it will get mushy too quick.
First step is to rinse the rice and let it soak. You do this to wash off some of the starch which makes the rice too sticky and to soften the grains for easier cooking.
Fill a pot halfway with water, it doesn’t really matter how much as long as the rice is covered. Bring the water to a boil and THEN add the soaked rice. Boil for about 10 minutes, stirring every minute or so, or until the grains are soft with a hard spot in the center.
Remove the rice and rinse immediately with cold water, this stops the cooking and removes yet more starch.
rinse the pan and put 4 tablespoons vegetable oil in the bottom. Turn the heat to High at this point to get a good sear on the rice when you at it. At this stage you can line the bottom of the pan with thin iranian bread or thin slices of potatoes if you wish, but I prefer the rice alone. Add your boiled rice and seal the pot by wrapping a clean towel around a lid and closing it. This prevents the steam from escaping. Turn the heat to medium and cook about 20 minutes or until you get a golden brown crust on the bottom of the pan and the rice is cooked through.
Remove from the pan, pulling the crispy bottom out as well and top with butter, letting it melt through, and a sprinkling of salt.

Meat
While your rice is boiling or soaking, use the time to prepare your meat. To feed three people, I use about a pound of ground beef. Place the beef in the bowl and add the minced onions and curry powder. Mush with your hands until all combined and the texture is smooth. Form large patties and set aside.
Start your Tomatoes now.
Heat a pan to medium high heat and add 2 tablespoons vegetable or olive oil. Fry meat patties about 4 minutes per side or until brown.

Tomatoes
Slice each tomato in half width wise and sprinkle with salt. Heat a small pan to medium heat and place the tomatoes, skin side up. Cook about 8 minutes per side or until brown. If your feeling jazzy, sprinkle with a bit of parmesan cheese and a little balsamic vinegar.

 

Now your practically Persian like I am!

Khoda Hafez (farsi for bye bye!)

Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

The Balineasy Life and Banana Pancakes

9 Oct IMG_2612

I know, I know, it’s been a LONG time since I’ve posted. But really, you should be used to my inconsistent ways by now. This is probably why I’m not bathing in a bathtub full of Benjamins I’ve made from blogging right now. I mean, seriously, I’m no “Eat, Pray, Love” or anything.

Speaking of EPL (that’s what the cool kids are calling it these days. Trust me, I asked them), I spent the week before last lounging around in the easy, luxurious splendid life that is Bali with one of my closest friends from NYC Lexie.  As we all know I”m sure, Bali is the Love part of the book where Julia Roberts fell in loooovveee with that sex pot guy.  I was hoping we’d both meet a sex pot guy but no luck, at least not in Bali. *winkkkk*

Lexie is one of the few friends I have that I’ve traveled internationally with. As they say, you always get to know a person the best when you travel together, which is why I can safely say Lexie and I are compatible. Although, I can also safely say that if you find yourself traveling with someone you’d rather not be, Bali is probably the best option for the most stress reduction possible.

Lexie and I’s trip to Bali consisted of approximately 3 different ingredients,

  1. Food
  2. Spas
  3. Motorbikes

these were all spliced and diced together with the glue that are temples, beaches and lets not forget shopping (Lexie certainly didn’t)

I’ll venture to lay out a typical day in the 9 that we spent on the inspiring Indonesian Island.

Let me start by saying that for all the things Lex and I have in common, our sleeping habits have become totally opposite. It’s no wonder when you consider Lex has been working hard as a working girl in her fabulous 9-5 gig while I’ve been lazing around the globe with no schedule whatsoever for the last 9 months. Because of these vast lifestyle differences, Lexie passes out around 10 and wakes up around 7 while I’m up late connecting on American time and struggle consistently to get out of bed in the morning. Luckily, after a few days, Lexie had rub off on me and I found myself rubbing my eyes around 9:30 every night.

Anyways, every morning, after I’d forced myself to leave the confines of my squishy blanket and wiped the sleep and grump out of my eyes, we enjoyed a fabulous breakfast. At every hotel we stayed at, which mind you were not luxury resorts nor the grimy hostels I’ve been staying in, but were really lovely mid range places (around 40 USD a night, and each place was beautiful and clean), offered a “complimentary” breakfast included in the price of the room. Now I know what your thinking, for the most part in the states, a “complimentary breakfast” at a mid range hotel usually consists of dry cereal and toast and if your really lucky maybe some fruit. Not the case in Bali, every morning we were enjoying banana pancakes, omelets, and beautiful fruit salads. Or, if we were in the super cultural mood, which I often was, you could enjoy the traditional Balinese breakfast which, similar to most places in South East Asia, is lunch food. In Bali it is Nasi Goreng (Fried Rice) or Mie Goreng (Fried Noodles) each topped with a fried egg. I was already a lover of the Breakfast for Dinner concept, but now it’s also all about Lunch for Breakfast. I think I’ll start a movement in the western world.  LFB dude.  Let’s work together and see if we can get it to catch on.

After breakfast, it was off on one of three options. Do we go on the motorbike, to the spa or shopping? I’d say there was an even %33.333 split between the three, possibly a liiiittttllleee heavy on the shopping end. But what can I say, Bali is a FABULOUS place to shop.

I’ll just lay out our week in Bali in the order of the locations we visited.

First Stop: Seminyak

We started our trip with a few days in Seminyak, which is about 15 minutes drive from Denpasar airport. On the interwebs, Seminyak is known for being slightly more ritzy of a place, with tons of fabulous hotels, restaurants and boutiques. It definitely lived up to its reputation, but to be honest I was really surprised on the deals you could find. Several nights, Lexie and I enjoyed 5 star atmosphere and cuisine for 2 star prices. As for shopping, you can literally find anything here. They have all of the western brands, particularly surfing brands on hand if that’s what you’re looking for, but on top of that Seminyak is rife with adorable one-off boutiques. Yes, sometimes the prices can skyrocket for simple things, but Lexie and I found some of the most beautiful things for rock bottom prices. On the main drag, Seminyak/Legian road, there is a sort of unspoken rule as far as the price/quality ratio. I noticed that at the far end of the road, the prices are low, the quality matches the price and the shops are mostly open fronted stands selling trinkets. However, mixed among these shops is some of the most beautiful handmade fabric I have ever seen. Bali is knows for its textile design, particularly the Batik style of wax relief dying and the Ecat style of thread dying and loom weaving.

Top Picks!

Accomodation:

Teka Teki House:  This place is adorable and was the perfect landing spot for Lex and I.  The property is owned by Jules and Donny, an Australian Expat and a Balinese man respectively, and they run it with a huge smile and great service.  The place consists of several rooms, each with a private or semi private outdoor sitting area and dining space.  Lexie booked online before the trip and I highly recommend doing so as Jules and Donny do a pretty good job of keeping the place booked up.  At around $40 a night, it was definitely a step up from where I have been staying, but let me just tell you it was totally worth it.  It’s not on the main road, which for us was perfect because it was super quiet and we liked to bum around on motorbikes anyways.

Food:

1. Potato Head Beach Club:  By far the coolest place I’ve ever been.  Lexie’s friend had given us a recommendation for the place and we were REALLY glad we listened to it.  Bali is definitely not lacking in the great food department, and Potato Head certainly delivers on that front, but more so than the food is the atmosphere.  Potato Head is the brain child of a pair of international art collectors and follows the footsteps of their internationally acclaimed first venue (also named Potato Head) in Jakarta, Indonesia.  The Bali location is on prime beach front real estate.  As you arrive, driving down a long lit driveway lined with palms, a monolithic structure reminiscent of the Coliseum in Rome appears from behind the tree tops.  It looks like the Coliseum, if it was made from shutters.  That’s right folks, the entire structure is a puzzle placement of refurbished window shutters.  You have to see it to believe it.  The interior is all open sided, facing the beach and based on the art collectors collection of 1930-1950s furniture, complete with lawn furniture for dining and limelight era spotlights for accent lighting.  Prices are super reasonable too, so don’t worry about breaking the bank.  Lexie and I had a 3 course 5 star dinner with cocktails for around $40 a person.  The drinks are where they get you though, at $10 a cocktail, so if your on a budget stick to the food and beer if you need a little kick.

2. Junction: Located directly on Seminyak Square, which is the central point along the main road, Legian, Junction is yet another example of the innovative and stunning Balinese design on offer.  The restaurant itself isn’t inherently Balinese, but it is visually stunning none the less.  The walls of the space are made from whitewashed wood, slatted and spaced apart to let the warm glowing light shine out.  The inside is adorable and very bright considering the whole place is lit by candlelight.  The food is definitely worth going for, fresh pastas and risottos compliment the menu along with a great selection of local seafood.

3. Warung Made: This is a great spot right on the main Seminyak Road drag worth mentioning.  Yes its a little touristy and the weird sign of the cartoon crocodile biting its own tongue off is a little off-putting, but the food is fantastic, the location convenient and the prices affordable.  Definitely check it out, great Balinese iced coffee too.

To Do:

1. The Beach:  duh, you’re in Bali, go to the beach.  Seminyak has a great beach, with beautiful dark sand from the volcanic rock on the island and a long wide expanse to lay out on and work on the tan.   You can rent a chair and umbrella for around $10 a day, but if your like us, just plop down on your towel in the sand.

2. Surfing: While your on the beach, you’ll see a myriad of little shacks with some guys hanging around about 50 surfboards.  These guys will attempt to teach you how to surf for like $30/hr.  Super great deal considering in the U.S. you could easily spend over $100/hr for the same thing.  Lexie convinced me to give it a first try at the end of our trip when we swung back through Seminyak, and for as scared as I was I came away a total convert, I can’t wait to get back on the board and keep falling down.

Uluwatu

Uluwatu is amazing.  Sadly we didn’t have enough time for an overnight there, but we did make the best of it and took the motorbike for an afternoon trip to the renowned Bali surf spot.  Its only about an hour from Seminyak by motorbike, so it’s a great place for a day.  If you love to surf though, I would definitely suggest staying for a night or two.   Uluwatu is known for being one of the best places for surfing in the world, and it draws hordes and hordes of enthusiasts every year.  Luckily, the day we were there was relatively quiet and we were able to enjoy the beach and the show of super talented surfers on the 10+ ft waves.  Uluwatu consists of a surfing town built into the side of the cliffs with restaurants, accommodation and shops all built along narrow rocky walkways. A trip down the carved stone stairs and pathways through caves and over rock formations will lead you to the beach.  It was amazing to watch the surfers lugging their boards up and down the irregular stairs.  I wasn’t carrying anything and nearly biffed it.

lexie lovin the Bintang, the local Balinese beer

that little dot is me tanning cliff side uluwatu style

Ubud

Ubud is probably the most famous, if you can call it that, location in Bali as far as most people are concerned.  Remember that little book, eat pray love, that everyone was having convulsions of excitement over a few years back?  Yeah, the Bali part was about Ubud.  There are mixed feelings about the book in Ubud.  While some embrace the tourism opportunities, selling nick nacks or souvenirs or even going so far as to name the vet “feed spay love”, most people’s response to the topic of Julie Roberts is “Damn that book!”  However, you’d never know that Ubud is considered one of the top picks for tourists in Bali.  Ubud, to us, was perfect.  A small town (seemingly anyways) filled with art, great food, great music and people who just loved to be creative.  Meandering through the streets or taking motorbike rides fast became one of our favorite activities.

one of my favorite things about Ubud, the adorable monkey infestation

Top Picks!

Food:

1. Coffee and Silver:  we found this place totally by accident.  It happened to be my birthday and what sounded great to me was a yummy dinner, a couple of beers and sleep.  God I’m Old.  I swear, next year I’ll have a huge party and get really drunk and do stupid things…. that’s what young people do right? yay! Anyways, we stumbled upon this great little restaurant and were drawn in by the sound of live jazz.  The place was great, all outdoor seating with a great atmosphere and great food.

2. Restaurants the Face Rice Paddies: I couldn’t give you an exact name, because there are actually tons of these little places, but I’m sure the food is just as good at all of them.  What is most important is the view however, with the prime seats at the back of the restaurant looking straight out to the rice paddies, not a window or a wall to get in your way of the fresh air while you eat.  The place we found had particularly nice food and presentation.

To Do:

1. SPA: oh my gosh, spas everywhere.  This was like Lexie and I’s version of heaven.  Lexie and I have long since become acquainted with the massage and fast fell in love with them back when we traveled Barcelona together.  Ubud is littered with spas and day spas, and we tried a lot of them.  Too many to list here really, but I can safely say that we were never disappointed.  Our favorite spa day was when we took the motorbike out of the city and hit up a place overlooking the rice paddies.  We did neglect to make it clear that we weren’t a couple though and got put in a shared massage room, complete with a milk bath we were supposed to enjoy together.  Needless to say, it was hilarious and we took turns in the bathtub, don’t worry.

2. Balinese Dancing:  There are tons of these shows all around Bali, but Ubud is one of the best places to see it.  Lexie and I opted for the Kecak (pronounced kechak) dance, which is the most traditional show.  All of the music is produced by 50-60 men chanting and the dancers in the center wear elaborate costumes and twist their bodies into poses unimaginable to me.  The show was beautiful and I couldn’t take my eyes away.

Candidasa

The east coast of Bali is a wondrous place of beautiful beaches, top class snorkeling and beautiful views.  We opted to stay in a really nice resort called Nerwasa and spent most of our time there lazing around the infinity pool and watching the waves crash against the cliffs.  One day we took a motorbike trip to the water temple, which was a beautiful site at dusk.  We did venture out for a local gastronomic treat however before we left.  Bebek Betutu is a Balinese classic.  Basically they take a whole duck, and I’m talking whole, with the head and everything, and stuff it with herbs, wrap it in banana leafs and bake it underground for like a day.  Served with the traditional sides of rice and ginger heavy Balinese vegetables, this is a fantastic plate.  I will however say it was a bit traumatizing having to send the duck back to have its head chopped off.  That thing was definitely staring at me, that’s all I’m saying.

There are so many more fantastic places in Bali that I just don’t have the space to write, nor do you have the patience to read.  So if you need some more recommendations, please don’t hesitate to ask!

Balinese Banana Pancakes

you’ll need:

1 cup all purpose flour, sifted

1 egg, lightly beaten

1/4 teaspoon salt

1 cup milk

4 tablespoons butter

4 bananas, slightly ripe

method:

mix together the flour, egg, milk and salt gently but until combined.  heat a crepe pan or a shallow non stick pan and add 1 tablespoon butter.

slice one banana lengthwise on a diagonal and place in the pan.  Cook the banana about 3 minutes, allowing the sugars to caramelize.

Pour 1/4 of the batter over the bananas in the pan, tilting the pan around to get good coverage over the slices.

Cook the pancake over medium heat until holes begin to appear on the surface and it looks a little dryish.

Flip the pancake and cook the opposite side a few minutes more.

repeat 3 more times with remaining batter.

 

If you’d like this as a sweet treat, serve it sprinkled with powder sugar and a slice of lemon.

 

 

Thanks for reading, like usual I promise to post more often. Well, I’ll try anyways.

Keep Things Sweet,

Jenni Jane

 

 

Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

If It’s Not Alright, It’s Not The End and Butternut Squash and Walnut Pappardelle

3 Sep IMG_1240

Sometimes something happens in a life that singularly defines an aspect of who you are. That pushes something you never knew you had to show itself. Sometimes its meeting someone who changes the way you think. Sometimes its going somewhere or seeing something that gives you a different outlook on something. But other times its a trial or a challenge that forces something that was just below the surface shooting straight into the limelight.

I’ve spent my life just doing what I set my mind to, never really stopping to look around and see what other people are doing. I never thought about why I didn’t feel scared about a lot of things or how other people might deal with similar situations, but recently there have been a lot of things trying to show me just how strong I am.

I didn’t even fully understand what the word meant when I carved the word strength into the sandstone walls set along the cloudy beach in Australia, but I like to think that it was foreshadowing.

My friends and family have always told me about my strength, but I never believed them.

When I was a young girl going through the heartbreak of young love or the angst of defining myself, my mother would confidently tell me that I would be fine because, as sensitive and loving as I was, I was equally as strong. “yeah ok, mom” I thought to myself, “you probably say that to everyone.”

When I cried myself to sleep over college papers gone wrong and best laid plans turning into terrible ideas, the people around me would tell me how proud they were of me and that its ok to stumble here and there, I just had to be as strong as I always have been.

I always thought my mother was strong, I thought my father was a rock, my grandparents could never falter, and my nanny Juanita couldn’t be wrong. I never pictured myself as inheriting any of those qualities. However over the last few weeks, my strength has come into focus.

When I got to Koh Samui, I knew something wasn’t right. For the few days after the Full Moon Party on Koh Phanang (more like Koh Phanhangover) I didn’t feel quite like myself. Yes, I know that the day after that part of it was recovering from dancing all night and a few too many buckets (these are actual buckets of cocktails… deadly).

But after the obligatory hangover period subsided, I couldn’t get my energy back. I was feeling isolated, even surrounded by 20 people I’d spent the week partying with. I couldn’t get out of bed, I had no energy to even think. When I made the trip from Koh Phanang to Koh Samui and finally got to my guesthouse, I was left utterly exhausted. The islands are only 30 minutes apart, surely this couldn’t be that tiring of an excursion? After one night in Koh Samui it was clear things weren’t as they were supposed to be. The headache set in, I was still exhausted and at night it felt like my body was on fire. Every day got worse, I couldn’t walk the 100 feet to the beach without feeling like I’d faint. I was constantly starving but every time I looked at food in front of me I felt sick to my stomach. I’ve never been one to admit defeat easily, and every day when it got worse I kept telling myself that it would have to get worse before it got better. On the third day, I woke up and went to the restaurant to try and make myself eat something. When I looked up from holding my head in my hands to try and make the head pain go away, I opened my eyes and realized I couldn’t see out of my left eye. I blinked a thousand times during the ensuing panic attack. What was wrong with me? This isn’t normal, I am going blind. I put a hand over my right eye and opened my left and was met with complete darkness. Just as suddenly as it had gone away, my vision came back. I immediately called my parents, as I always do when I know I’m truly sick, and was met with news I didn’t expect. Go to the hospital, they said, this isn’t normal. Even then, I didn’t want to go. Surely I could manage this on my own. Was this strength, or merely stubbornness? Regardless, I got over myself, packed my bags and went out to the street to hail a taxi.

Some might say I should have had the hotel get me a ride, and they might have been right because when I finally arrived at the hospital I was so weak I had to have help to the emergency room.

After a brief examination and a very long wait, the doctor came in and told me he wasn’t sure what was wrong with me but he was concerned about infection and possibly tropical disease. They set me up in my own room (super nice by the way, like a luxury hotel only with lots of nurses and needles) and hooked me up to my iv. On a side note, I’m not sure how many of you have been in the hospital or on an iv, but I can safely say that the most annoying thing in the world for someone who likes to move around, even in the hospital, is being tethered to a metal pole by something that’s stuck into your body.

Over the next few days, things didn’t seem to be getting better, but I was getting closer to what the problem was. Turns out I had Dengue Fever, a tropical disease that, similar to malaria, is caused by the bite of an infected mosquito. Problem is, dengue isn’t the only thing I had. All my symptoms pointed towards dengue, except for a few, like my low platelet count and fever that seemed to point to something else. The problem with dengue is that it lowers your immune system in a huge way, so 9 times out of 10 you end up with a secondary infection joining the party to make everything worse. After a few more days and some improvement, the results finally came back and reveled that on top of the dengue fever, I also had a case of salmonella.

As soon as I was checked in to the hospital, I looked around and realized I was alone. I know that I signed up for this, I know that I made the choice to take the risk of traveling alone. I know that the risk included something bad happening and having to deal with it alone. But knowing something and talking about it is very different from facing it in reality.

From the moment I stepped into that hospital and the nurses asked me one after another if I would be needing extra pillows and blankets for my friends that surely would be joining me in due time, I started to feel more and more lonely. When I told the nurses that I in fact was traveling alone, they dubbed me with a new nickname, “strong ladee.” I’ve never been a person to crumble, so I steadied my upper lip and started watching movies, sometimes distraction is the best company. When the nurses saw that I wasn’t about to feel sorry for myself, they took me under their wing. The nurse that was assigned to my case specifically couldn’t speak much English, only knowing enough and some technical terms to get me what I needed. What she lacked in language skills she made up for in care. Not the mushy are you ok kind of care, but the attentive kind. I’ve never felt so taken care of whilst on my own in my entire life and I thank her so much for making sure I never felt too far away from home.

My parents, from the first second they heard I was ill, were the most supportive people in the world. At the time, they were working in Rwanda, setting up a new medical system for the fledgling government and when they heard I was in hospital, they set off towards the airport. If I hadn’t of caught them and told them not to come, they would have been by my side in a heartbeat. My parents kept in constant contact with me and helped me through even the hardest times from a million miles away.

I didn’t necessarily reach out for support, and the ones who supported me without my even asking showed me who truly loves me.

At the end of the day, what I realized it doesn’t matter if I have 20 people around me or I’m all on my own, I have to be strong for myself. After spending a few days recovering out of the hospital I’ve had time to look back over the last few years of my life and realize just how amazing and capable I actually am. I’m not trying to have a big head, but seriously, I’ve made some strides in my day. I never realized how much strength I inherited from my mother, my father, my nanny, my grandparents and my sisters. Every time I accomplished something, I just felt like its what anyone would have done. But after having to rely on myself to get through something that would be incredibly hard for anyone, I’ve realized that a lot of the things I’ve done in my life, some people would never have attempted.

When I set out planning this trip and telling everyone what the plan was, I was always greeted with the response “you are so brave and strong, I could never do that.” While I still think that anyone can do this, I now understand that its not just a matter of means and a sense of adventure, its about having the guts and the strength. Anyone can go out and conquer whatever is in front of them or face any challenge, you just need to look at yourself and realize the amazing things that make you who you are, then capitalize on those things. I always took this outlook in terms of entrepreneurship and making money: what am I good at and how can I exploit those talents? But what I’ve been learning throughout my life but has only recently hit home is to ask myself: what makes me amazing and how can I use those talents to conquer anything?

The first day out of the hospital, I knew I had to do some relaxing and not push myself. I spent the day on the beach the next day and as I was wafting in and out of naps, a salesman came up to me. I knew the drill, no thank you I don’t want a sarong/towel/bikini/strange musical instrument thank you. But this man came up to me and just talked to me. He asked me where I was from and where I’d been lately. I told him the short version of my story and he gave me an anklet made of coconut shell. I told him I didn’t have any money and his response was its ok, pay me later. I didn’t want to accept the anklet as I knew I might not see him again, but he put it in my hand, closed my fingers around it and told me I should wear it to remember my strength. I’ve been to the beach every day since then and I never saw him again.

In the end everything is going to be alright. If it’s not alright, it’s not the end. 

The recipe for this post is a recipe from home that I love.  Not only because I am craving having my own kitchen but because I’ve had a few people asking for this recipe lately, so enjoy! Perfect timing as were coming up on fall and winter vegetable season.  Keep in mind that this is a recipe I totally made up one day, so writing it down is kind of hard, also sadly I don’t have any pictures of it as of right now.  Just go with your senses, which is the best recipe you’ll ever get, and taste often until it’s just how you want it!

Butternut Squash and Walnut Papardelle

this isn’t my recipe, its one I found online, but the end result should look similar to this, plus walnuts!

*Photo Courtesy of Chow.com*

you’ll need:

1 medium package fresh (if possible) papardelle (can also use spaghetti, linguine or any kind of uncut pasta)

1/2 of a medium/large butternut squash, peeled and cubed in 1″ pieces

2 tablespoons olive oil

2 cloves garlic, minced

1/4 cup chopped walnuts

2 tablespoons butter

1/2 tablespoon chopped fresh sage

1/2 – 1 cup freshly shredded parmesan

pinch salt

pinch white pepper

method:

toss the butternut squash with the oil and sage and spread on a greased baking pan.  Roast in a 425F oven until just softening, will vary between 15-25 minutes depending on the age of the squash, so check very so often.

While the squash is roasting, melt the butter in a large skillet over low-medium heat and add garlic until fragrant.  Add the walnuts and toast until fragrant and starting to brown, but be careful not to burn! remove from heat and reserve in pan.

Bring a large pot of water to a boil and cook the pasta until just al dente (meaning it has a little resistance when bitten).  Before draining, reserve 1/4 cup of the starchy pasta water.  Add the pasta, butternut squash and pasta water to the pan and toss to combine, cooking on low heat for 2-3 minutes more and add salt and pepper to taste.

Place pasta on a serving dish and top with a generous amount of shredded parmesan cheese.  Serve with buttered and salted toasted bread and a healthy salad! This dish is great for a quick dinner party or family dinner!

Tags: , , , , , , , , , ,

← Older Entries

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 138 other followers