Loved the ice cream soft shades of Brighton, the totally camp Pier and over the top Royal Pavillion. Everything heavenly. Want to move there tomorrow.
Lunch was a crisp bottle of cold white wine, a pool of hummus, followed by feta stuffed chicken and ending on figs with lashings of honey at Pomegranate.
Absolutely divine.
Thursday, April 28, 2011
Papa's got a brand new bag
Buying a new lipstick is treaty but a new bag gives one such a lift. Ines de la Fressange says that being in love with a man or a project has an "effet lifting". Secret: A new handbag does as well. Especially if it whispers Chloe Spring in peach with gold.
This one is brown. The one to have is a divine peach. Naturally it is impossible to find but somebody snagged it in Abu Dhabi, and it wasn't me...
The color dazzles alongside an olive green. It came to the disastrous tea at the Savoy; it went to NYC this week; and will hide out in Liverpool during royal wedding madness.
My favorite bag sites of all time:
If you want to avoid buying a fake on Ebay, Purse Forum is the place. Or if you need to know the size and price of a Chanel bag just because these things might be useful one day. Or the different types of Hermes bags. Or if you just want to dream a bit.
Purse Forum
These lovely ladies turned a serious love of bags into a website that actually lets them feed their habit. Great reviews and descriptions as well as pictures.
The Bag Snob
This one is brown. The one to have is a divine peach. Naturally it is impossible to find but somebody snagged it in Abu Dhabi, and it wasn't me...
The color dazzles alongside an olive green. It came to the disastrous tea at the Savoy; it went to NYC this week; and will hide out in Liverpool during royal wedding madness.
My favorite bag sites of all time:
If you want to avoid buying a fake on Ebay, Purse Forum is the place. Or if you need to know the size and price of a Chanel bag just because these things might be useful one day. Or the different types of Hermes bags. Or if you just want to dream a bit.
Purse Forum
These lovely ladies turned a serious love of bags into a website that actually lets them feed their habit. Great reviews and descriptions as well as pictures.
The Bag Snob
The Good, the Bad and the Ugly
The pictures of SchlossHotel im Grunewald did not do this fabulous Berlin hotel justice.
Karl decorated it. This picture sits on a side table, discreet in one of the far parlours.
Hotel Moschino in Milan is fashion-fashion. Nobody who stays there actually eats. Breakfast comes in an enormous plastic hatbox that takes up the whole room. The waiter lifts off the cover and it contains a cappuccino and a brownie. I was hungry in Milan. Very hungry. My bed looked like a wedding dress dyed black by a jilted bride. No sweet dreams in Milan.
I so wanted to like it but it was uncomfortable and terribly expensive.
Last but not least there was the Africa room in a Frankfurt hotel complete with leopard print carpet, bedspreads, bedsheets, bin, lamps and art. No deadbolt on the door. I asked the receptionist if all the rooms were like this, and he smiled, "Only yours".
Karl decorated it. This picture sits on a side table, discreet in one of the far parlours.
Hotel Moschino in Milan is fashion-fashion. Nobody who stays there actually eats. Breakfast comes in an enormous plastic hatbox that takes up the whole room. The waiter lifts off the cover and it contains a cappuccino and a brownie. I was hungry in Milan. Very hungry. My bed looked like a wedding dress dyed black by a jilted bride. No sweet dreams in Milan.
I so wanted to like it but it was uncomfortable and terribly expensive.
Last but not least there was the Africa room in a Frankfurt hotel complete with leopard print carpet, bedspreads, bedsheets, bin, lamps and art. No deadbolt on the door. I asked the receptionist if all the rooms were like this, and he smiled, "Only yours".
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
Lunch for Two
The queue starts forming at approximately ten minutes to one outside of Cal Pep. One of the waiters emerges at one o'clock sharp, greets several of the regulars at the front of the line, then opens the garage door to a narrow seafood bar that ends in a few tables.
The tourists enter hesitantly. There's no menu at the bar. The waiters behind the bar will concoct some tapas for the tourists (fried artichokes), then steer them toward the fresh fish or "mariscos" (shellfish).
Upon walking into Cal Pep, I was shooed to a seat at the bar next to a gentlemen of a certain age. The waiter offered me the tapas, and I asked for "gambas" (shrimp). The waiter pointed to five inch long, bright red gambas and told me they were expensive, 7 Euros a piece, but there were cheaper ones. I asked for the cheaper ones. At which point, the gentleman next to me said, "No, she will have the best. To share with me. And, a bottle of Cava, please".
To the great amusement of the waiters he bought me lunch. One of the waiters said to me, "He's rich and has great taste. What more could you want?" The shrimp were coated in rough sea salt with a sharp and sweet taste. The gentlemen left promptly at two o'clock for his domino game. I lingered to sip my cafe cortado (espresso with a dash of milk) and wonder at the kindness.
The tourists enter hesitantly. There's no menu at the bar. The waiters behind the bar will concoct some tapas for the tourists (fried artichokes), then steer them toward the fresh fish or "mariscos" (shellfish).
Upon walking into Cal Pep, I was shooed to a seat at the bar next to a gentlemen of a certain age. The waiter offered me the tapas, and I asked for "gambas" (shrimp). The waiter pointed to five inch long, bright red gambas and told me they were expensive, 7 Euros a piece, but there were cheaper ones. I asked for the cheaper ones. At which point, the gentleman next to me said, "No, she will have the best. To share with me. And, a bottle of Cava, please".
To the great amusement of the waiters he bought me lunch. One of the waiters said to me, "He's rich and has great taste. What more could you want?" The shrimp were coated in rough sea salt with a sharp and sweet taste. The gentlemen left promptly at two o'clock for his domino game. I lingered to sip my cafe cortado (espresso with a dash of milk) and wonder at the kindness.
Caelum in Barcelona
The heavenly pastries, jams, liquors and cakes mean Caelum lives up to its name. Tucked away on Calle de la Palla not far from Passeig Colon, Caelum's cakes, cookies and teas are divine. There are a handful of tables upstairs and a crypt downstairs as well as the shop.
The address is
Caelum
C/ Palla, 8, 08002 Barcelona, Spain
+34 933 02 69 93
Working under the philosophy that everything goes better with sugar and honey, most everything is made by nuns and monks. The mandarin liquor prepared by Benedictine monks had a bold citrus taste. Not quite as strong as an eau de vie but certainly as fruity. The quince jam prepared by Sevillian nuns goes perfectly with cheese. The marzipan was not sweet and truly tasted of almonds.
At four o’clock in the afternoon on a weekday there were groups of two or three women drinking tea, eating cakes and whiling away the afternoon hours.
As their website says, bye now with little kisses of sugar, cinnamon and ... licorice!
The address is
Caelum
C/ Palla, 8, 08002 Barcelona, Spain
+34 933 02 69 93
Working under the philosophy that everything goes better with sugar and honey, most everything is made by nuns and monks. The mandarin liquor prepared by Benedictine monks had a bold citrus taste. Not quite as strong as an eau de vie but certainly as fruity. The quince jam prepared by Sevillian nuns goes perfectly with cheese. The marzipan was not sweet and truly tasted of almonds.
At four o’clock in the afternoon on a weekday there were groups of two or three women drinking tea, eating cakes and whiling away the afternoon hours.
As their website says, bye now with little kisses of sugar, cinnamon and ... licorice!
Monday, April 18, 2011
Royal Wedding Madness
Nobody cares about the Royal Wedding here in London. Only the Americans - and mostly in the Midwest - are going bananas over Kate(now Catherine) Middleton's impending nuptials. Certain segments of the British press would have you believe this but don't buy it. Article upon article with nothing newsworthy has been written about the wedding: Will Kate wear her hair up or down? Even in Spain a news story on the wedding was on the evening news every day.
Most everyone here is secretly excited, delighted to have the extra day off and wondering how Kate keeps her hair so glossy. This is the real question: What does she do to her hair? Yes, she has a Brazilian blow dry and probably gloss treatments every two weeks but how can her hair be as shiny as a spaniel all the time?
Most everyone here is secretly excited, delighted to have the extra day off and wondering how Kate keeps her hair so glossy. This is the real question: What does she do to her hair? Yes, she has a Brazilian blow dry and probably gloss treatments every two weeks but how can her hair be as shiny as a spaniel all the time?
A good hotel is hard to find
The right hotel makes all the difference for a good business trip. These days my beat is Europe. I consult Mr and Mrs Smith, Trip Advisor and Frommer's. By now the large chains bore me although I should stay there to get points (I know!) so these days I take the risk of staying in boutique hotels.
At a minimum a hotel must have:
1) Quiet
2) Deadbolts
3) Good Room Service Menu, including a grilled cheese sandwich.
4) Pleasant service (they answer the phone)
5) Internet that works
Ideally it has:
1) A lobby with deep sofas for hiding out between appointments.
2) Slippers because I always forget mine
3) Free bottled water. I know hotel tap water is safe but just in case.
4) Taxis readily available outside the door.
5) As good a breakfast in the rooms as if I go downstairs -- never the case!
At a minimum a hotel must have:
1) Quiet
2) Deadbolts
3) Good Room Service Menu, including a grilled cheese sandwich.
4) Pleasant service (they answer the phone)
5) Internet that works
Ideally it has:
1) A lobby with deep sofas for hiding out between appointments.
2) Slippers because I always forget mine
3) Free bottled water. I know hotel tap water is safe but just in case.
4) Taxis readily available outside the door.
5) As good a breakfast in the rooms as if I go downstairs -- never the case!
Thursday, April 14, 2011
The Accidental Business Traveller
Picture the business traveler eating breakfast alone not in one of the chain hotels but in a quirkier hotel filled with retired couples on vacation. She is the youngest person there by 20 years. She wants to retire as well. Hotels, flights and packing all become easier with time but the displacement and loneliness of business travel only becomes harder.
Five tips for surviving business travel
1)The more you travel, the more you bring. If you've ever been sick on business travel you will forevermore carry a small arsenal of medicine.
2)A scented candle to ward off the smell of secondhand smoke, cheap cleaning products and stale air.
3)In a strange city where you might not feel comfortable going out to eat alone at night, eat a big lunch at a good restaurant and then a light room service dinner.
4)If your door does not have a deadbolt leave the hotel or push a desk/table against the door. Hotel staff or other guests’ keys may open your door. Nothing like waking up in the middle of the night as someone opens your room door.
5) Try to see one museum, movie or sight whilst on a trip to break the monotony of meetings and hotel rooms.
Five tips for surviving business travel
1)The more you travel, the more you bring. If you've ever been sick on business travel you will forevermore carry a small arsenal of medicine.
2)A scented candle to ward off the smell of secondhand smoke, cheap cleaning products and stale air.
3)In a strange city where you might not feel comfortable going out to eat alone at night, eat a big lunch at a good restaurant and then a light room service dinner.
4)If your door does not have a deadbolt leave the hotel or push a desk/table against the door. Hotel staff or other guests’ keys may open your door. Nothing like waking up in the middle of the night as someone opens your room door.
5) Try to see one museum, movie or sight whilst on a trip to break the monotony of meetings and hotel rooms.
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
Taxis
From time to time taxi cab and car service drivers feel perfectly comfortable unloading their most personal problems to their passengers. Yesterday I arrived at Barcelona airport, jumped into a taxi with a driver who is a part-time journalist for one of the leading newspapers but due to the economic crisis in Spain drives a taxi. For the next 30 minutes he talks non-stop about his situation, upcoming divorce, friendship with Sting and jobless friend forced to work in porn movies.
Same thing happened to MJ - the best friend--not so long ago. Her driver even craned around his head to ensure she didn't look at text messages while listening to his rant. Some drivers must like the idea of a captive audience. Does this happen to men?
Last time I was in Barcelona a taxi driver literally cried on my shoulder about her mother's cancer. It was terribly sad and odd at the same time. Then there was the Russian ice hockey player on Facebook the entire time he drove me from BWI to DC: One eye and one hand for the road.
How many times have I gotten into a taxi in a strange city, usually Berlin, and wondered if I was safe? I don't know where I'm going. There are no landmarks I recognize. It is often late. Sometimes I call to give someone in another country my location (dark highway, random city names). How would they find me? I know it is futile and yet it makes me feel better. And yet, nothing untoward has ever happened to me in a taxi.
My chatty driver this time did tell me he doesn't normally talk so much, and he thought I had a lot of positive energy. I'm sure he talks that much all the time but telling me I had positive energy made the whole monologue suddenly bearable.
Same thing happened to MJ - the best friend--not so long ago. Her driver even craned around his head to ensure she didn't look at text messages while listening to his rant. Some drivers must like the idea of a captive audience. Does this happen to men?
Last time I was in Barcelona a taxi driver literally cried on my shoulder about her mother's cancer. It was terribly sad and odd at the same time. Then there was the Russian ice hockey player on Facebook the entire time he drove me from BWI to DC: One eye and one hand for the road.
How many times have I gotten into a taxi in a strange city, usually Berlin, and wondered if I was safe? I don't know where I'm going. There are no landmarks I recognize. It is often late. Sometimes I call to give someone in another country my location (dark highway, random city names). How would they find me? I know it is futile and yet it makes me feel better. And yet, nothing untoward has ever happened to me in a taxi.
My chatty driver this time did tell me he doesn't normally talk so much, and he thought I had a lot of positive energy. I'm sure he talks that much all the time but telling me I had positive energy made the whole monologue suddenly bearable.
Saturday, April 9, 2011
Savoy boycott
My best friend and I managed to get a booking at the newly redecorated Savoy for afternoon tea. It looks lovely, although smaller than I remembered, with sensational, orchid arrangements in fuchsia, purple and shocking pink. We perched on a deep sofa and comfortable wing chair. The waiter was clearly nervous, hovering over us anxiously, uncertain when to bring tea or champagne but terribly kind. He bore down on us with sandwiches and scones. Both were passable but nothing inventive or extraordinary. He assured us we could have as much of anything as we liked. We lingered, chatting about Abu Dhabi, Chloe handbags and all other life essentials. Then he came with a parade of cakes: white chocolate macaroon, pistachio cake, hazelnut torte. None was remarkable. It has to be worth getting fat over, and none of these were.
The cakes look good but disappointed.
As we sat, happily chatting away, a hostess in severe black interrupted us to say, “You only have this table for two hours. The next guests will arrive in ten minutes.” No apologies. Two minutes later a man came over and said the same thing. I began to wonder if security was going to remove us from our sofa. Then our poor waiter arrived, obviously embarrassed to his credit, to confirm that yes, we were being thrown out of the Savoy. No one mentioned a time limit to us when we made the reservation. How rude they were! From now on I’m boycotting the Savoy.
The whole point of afternoon tea is graciousness and leisure. The Savoy goes to the bottom of my list with mediocre food and appalling service.
The cakes look good but disappointed.
As we sat, happily chatting away, a hostess in severe black interrupted us to say, “You only have this table for two hours. The next guests will arrive in ten minutes.” No apologies. Two minutes later a man came over and said the same thing. I began to wonder if security was going to remove us from our sofa. Then our poor waiter arrived, obviously embarrassed to his credit, to confirm that yes, we were being thrown out of the Savoy. No one mentioned a time limit to us when we made the reservation. How rude they were! From now on I’m boycotting the Savoy.
The whole point of afternoon tea is graciousness and leisure. The Savoy goes to the bottom of my list with mediocre food and appalling service.
Thursday, April 7, 2011
Missed Ines de la Fressange
Total heartbreak. I missed Ines de la Fressange at Selfridges day before yesterday. Former Chanel model, now ambassador for Roger Vivier, she is chic personified. Zut!
Grazia has a great piece by Alex Butt on some of what Ines thinks are her style faux pas. See her here with Yves Saint Laurent:
The caption below this picture: "Those earrings! I was paid a lot to wear those earrings…. I think that guy [to the right] has just seen them."
For the full article: Ines de la Fressange
Grazia has a great piece by Alex Butt on some of what Ines thinks are her style faux pas. See her here with Yves Saint Laurent:
The caption below this picture: "Those earrings! I was paid a lot to wear those earrings…. I think that guy [to the right] has just seen them."
For the full article: Ines de la Fressange
Gerard Darel Leather Jackets
Black leather jackets look too tough, too rock chick if you aren't one, so this year I vote for a caramel colored one in super soft lambskin with a collar. At least on me if the shoulders fit then nothing else does, and the asymmetric, zippers everywhere stuff just looks fussy. After looking everywhere I found a fairly reasonable one at Gerard Darel. As my friend once said, “Just buy it, you’ll feel better”. So I did. It’s my new best friend.
So far, I’m wearing it with jeans. In the Summer I’m thinking white trousers but not sure about over a super girly, flowered, maybe silk dress. Will that work for me? Since I definitely cannot pull off motorcycle boots to toughen up the whole thing, I think not.
How to wear it to the Savoy for tea tomorrow?
So far, I’m wearing it with jeans. In the Summer I’m thinking white trousers but not sure about over a super girly, flowered, maybe silk dress. Will that work for me? Since I definitely cannot pull off motorcycle boots to toughen up the whole thing, I think not.
How to wear it to the Savoy for tea tomorrow?
Sancerre, France
Why is it so hard to get out of London? The right tube is always under improvement on the weekends turning a simple journey into the Odyssey. So, we got thoroughly lost and finally gave up, jumped into a roomy black cab that took us to the wrong side of St.Pancras/King’s Cross.
It’s so odd how run down the waiting rooms are at both St. Pancras and Gare du Nord for the Eurostar. There ought to be fabulous restaurants with the beautiful people perched here and there drinking bubbly.
Sancerre
Very dusty wine bottles
We drove to Sancerre to see the village and buy wine. Lunch was an exquisite beetroot and goat cheese folie, followed by cod in red Sancerre sauce, and for dessert crème brulée perfumed with mirabelles. It was divine. Then we bought extremely reasonable wine at Cave La Perrière with no thought as to how we would carry it back on the return Odyssey, which we did somehow along with obscene amounts of Pont l'Evèque, Caprice des Dieux and fromage blanc.
It’s so odd how run down the waiting rooms are at both St. Pancras and Gare du Nord for the Eurostar. There ought to be fabulous restaurants with the beautiful people perched here and there drinking bubbly.
Sancerre
Very dusty wine bottles
We drove to Sancerre to see the village and buy wine. Lunch was an exquisite beetroot and goat cheese folie, followed by cod in red Sancerre sauce, and for dessert crème brulée perfumed with mirabelles. It was divine. Then we bought extremely reasonable wine at Cave La Perrière with no thought as to how we would carry it back on the return Odyssey, which we did somehow along with obscene amounts of Pont l'Evèque, Caprice des Dieux and fromage blanc.
Pomegranate juice
The air in Tel Aviv smells like jasmine. At the opening of the Carmel market, I bought a freshly squeezed pomegranate juice. The juice chef had fingernails blackened by juice stains. In the bright Mediterranean light the juice was crimson. I weaved through the market, bumping into people, oogling radishes as big as my fist, desparate not to spill it.
This is the view from the Intercontinental in Tel Aviv:
Jaffa is in the distance. I walked down to Jaffa on a Tuesday. There were brides and grooms everywhere taking pictures in front of the sunset and in the winding street. My taxi driver, Michael, who took me to all my business meetings told me: "Tuesday is a lucky day in the Bible. Of course in three years half of them will be divorced".
This is the view from the Intercontinental in Tel Aviv:
Jaffa is in the distance. I walked down to Jaffa on a Tuesday. There were brides and grooms everywhere taking pictures in front of the sunset and in the winding street. My taxi driver, Michael, who took me to all my business meetings told me: "Tuesday is a lucky day in the Bible. Of course in three years half of them will be divorced".
Friday, April 1, 2011
The Cure for the Relocation Blues
We moved to London in January 2011. For two weeks we slept in a dark and empy flat until I mustered the courage to ask my boss if we could stay at a hotel until our wayward sea and air shipments arrived. As soon as he said yes, we galloped over to Cannizaro House with Tallulah, our dog. She fell in love, especially after we gave her one of the large rabbit shaped butter cookies from the tin because we misunderstood and were 
convinced these were dog biscuits. Ever since she is smitten with Cannizaro House and wouldn't stay anywhere else.
It's a cozy hotel with less than 50 rooms, formerly owned by an Italian nobleman and now that Spring has arrived, the trees are spectacular. They treated us with gentle loving care when we desperately needed it.
convinced these were dog biscuits. Ever since she is smitten with Cannizaro House and wouldn't stay anywhere else.
It's a cozy hotel with less than 50 rooms, formerly owned by an Italian nobleman and now that Spring has arrived, the trees are spectacular. They treated us with gentle loving care when we desperately needed it.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)