Like many people, we're taking an end of summer trip. This time of year
makes us appreciate those things that fill us with joy. Spending time
with friends and family, having leisurely meals, taking long walks on
the beach, and, special to this summer, watching the Olympics and
following the political campaigns.
More than usual, the fall will bring big changes to our household because
our son, Michael, is preparing to leave for his freshman year at
college. So it was important to find time to take a trip to New Jersey
to visit with Michelle's parents.
With few exceptions,
Michelle's extended family has stayed on the East Coast. A few years
ago they had a family reunion at a nearby resort and 75 aunts, uncles,
and cousins came for the weekend. Sunday at Helen and Warren's means
brunch for 20, setting up a table in the living room, bringing out the
folding chairs, and sharing platters of bagels, lox, coffee cake, cold
cuts, cheese, egg salad, tuna salad, fresh fruit, and lots of Helen's
special iced coffee.
Travel
Travel
On the Road with Dennis Starks - India
Straight to God's Ear
Dogs howling at the moon. I roll over and from bed I look up to eighteen thousand feet of snow-covered peaks, shimmering in the moonlight. Shit, I gotta catch a plane! I throw on my clothes and race down the stairs, grab my last pair of underwear off the clothes line, stuff them in my pocket, throw my bag on my head, stumble through the turnip patch and onto the trail. I drink in the vista one last time. Fields of blooming mustard greens tint the valley a hazy yellow, tall poplar trees line the paths, and every little house sports a well tended vegetable garden.
The stream that winds its way through Leh and past the giant prayer wheel nurtures it all. In this remotest corner of India, one spin of the wheel and your prayers go straight into Gods ear. Beyond the village, as the stream peters out, the view is a vast barren moonscape of chocolate mountains, where not so much as a blade of grass grows. In the distance on all sides, the biggest platinum mountains I’ve ever seen. I lope through the village at dawn, past the monastery and the stark grey palace carved out of the hillside in the center of town. The air is thin, the bag is heavy and I’m out of breath. I flash a smile at my taxi driver and he waits while I duck into the bakery to grab a cup of Ladakhi tea, brewed from toasted barley and fermented yak butter. Its hot and salty, and it feels good on my dry lips.
British Invasion
I’m an Anglophile. The names of my sons say it all. Oliver and Barnaby. It wasn’t on purpose, but I accidentally copied Tom Stoppard, who happens to have two kids with the same names.
I was, however, copying my friend Robin and her husband Gene, who, last year, had gone to London, then chunneled it to Paris. Sounded great. Had to try it too. Anyway, I needed a London fix. It had been too long since I’d seen my old friends. From Robin, I wanted the names of restaurants as well as her hotel in London. She raved about the hotel, but I nixed it because of the location. I like to be in the thick of things -- to be able to walk straight out into the action.
Robin warned me to book Ledbury restaurant immediately. I’m tech-challenged, and although the website listed an open reservation, I couldn’t make it work. Then, in the weeks before our trip, Ledbury was awarded a Michelin star and it was suddenly booked many months in advance. I’d been hearing a lot about the great new dining explosion in London. Figuring Ledbury wasn’t meant to be this time, I moved on to book a few other highly recommended restaurants.
In Holland There are Long Lines at the Herring Shacks
I was looking forward to seeing the tulips on a recent trip to
Amsterdam. I imagined endless fields of brightly colored flowers.
Unfortunately I missed tulip season by a week. While the tulips were
gone, the spring herring were running and long lines of devotees waited
patiently at the herring stands throughout the city.
Pickled herring with sour cream and onions was a staple in my house
when I was growing up. Every night my dad had several fat pieces on
buttered pumpernickel bread. Wanting to connect with him, I would join
in. The firm fleshed pieces slathered with sour cream, topped with
thin strands of pickled onions took some getting used to, but eating
herring wasn't so much a culinary preference as an attempt at
father-son bonding.
My dad passed away many years ago and I haven't eaten herring since.
While I was in Amsterdam, I wanted to try the local favorites. The Dutch love Gouda, beer, bitterballen – a crispy fried ball of meat and dough – and, of course, herring. I wanted to try them all.
More, More, More...Morongo!
Last weekend I did one of those things that’s really not fair to do to
your boyfriend. I told him I wanted to do something extra fun and that
I wanted him to plan it. I do this to him a lot and we often end up
happily watching a movie and eating take-out instead, so I didn’t think
anything of it when I canceled on him last-minute. He waited until I
got home from dinner to tell me that he had actually come up with a
plan, “What is it??” “It’s no big deal.” “What is it??” “We can do it
another night.” “What is it?!” So he told me that he was going to ask
me if I didn’t mind not sleeping at either of our houses. Where would
we have slept?…A fancy hotel in Santa Barbara? …His parents’ beach
house in Ventura? …Paris??,
“Morongo Casino.” Morongo Casino???? Was he serious? That wasn’t
romantic! But he told me that he was going to take me to the fancy
restaurant on the top floor and that he’d show me the rooms online and
even I’d think they were pretty nice. And when he brought it up again
at breakfast the next day, I could see that he really wanted to go and
maybe I should just suck it up and go. And anyway, we could stop at
Hadley’s for date shakes on the way back. And he thought maybe I could
wear that green dress I wore the night we met because it was lucky. And
where else would he fit in with that ridiculous moustache he’d recently
grown?
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