... but boy, is he a cute one.
If you're having a blegh day like me, please take a second to watch this little tyke discover the wonders of lobsters.
A WaPo blogger wrote that he wants to make that kid's "Wow!" his ringtone. I second that motion.
This reminds me of the first time I encountered creamy, salty, sweet foie gras. I exuded all manner of "wows!" whoas!" and "nom nom noms."
Except I was 22, and in a nice bistro.
(Incidentally, this time of year reminds me of foie gras... For the past two years, a couple of weeks before Christmas, I have placed a special order with my favorite local market for a sizable mound of the pate goodness. It's a holiday treat for us.)
I really, truly hope that when Brad and I have kids, they are as fascinated by gourmet cuisine as this little boy.
Thursday, November 19, 2009
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
I'm Alive, Plus a Web Site Crush
A few of you have chastised me for not blogging about my recent trips. I know, I know. Scold me all you want, you're right. I was so busy catching up from travels that I didn't sit down to just write about them... and then wow, about a month has passed since I returned. I can't make excuses. Here are the ONLY photos I have edited (from Morocco... the souks and Majorelle Gardens).
I've been working up a post in my head with some really out-of-this-world recipes for you, including my variations on Anna's comforting, homey Sweet Nest "Sweet Buns" and Texas Oncology's Holly Jolly Biscotti (cute recipe card, nutrition and video demo). I have a little list going; in addition to my kitchen exploits, I plan to write a post on handwriting. Exciting, no?
Until I get it together and write about those, I encourage you to check out my newest Web site crush, the sweeterie, a "creative confectionery." It's brought to you by the t.ruffles girls, Karey Mackin and Mary Swenson. Gah, the talent these women have.
Since I've been talking about baking/cooking, I should warn you, you can't actually purchase bon bons from this sweeterie. You'll find a virtual display case of tantalizing photos and delectable wordplay. As a writer, I am floored by Karey's wordsmithery. Very jealous, actually, but in a "good for her" kind of way. And she lived in the Middle East before returning recently to the States. How cool is that?
{it's blurrier when I import it to Blogger, for some reason...}
Anyway, stop by for some visual and emotional indulgence. It may not make your taste buds sing the way a hand-rolled, 72-percent dark chocolate truffle will. But I, for one, could probably spare myself the calories and go for a bite of "candy for the soul," as the T.Ruffles girls call it.
I've been working up a post in my head with some really out-of-this-world recipes for you, including my variations on Anna's comforting, homey Sweet Nest "Sweet Buns" and Texas Oncology's Holly Jolly Biscotti (cute recipe card, nutrition and video demo). I have a little list going; in addition to my kitchen exploits, I plan to write a post on handwriting. Exciting, no?
Until I get it together and write about those, I encourage you to check out my newest Web site crush, the sweeterie, a "creative confectionery." It's brought to you by the t.ruffles girls, Karey Mackin and Mary Swenson. Gah, the talent these women have.
Since I've been talking about baking/cooking, I should warn you, you can't actually purchase bon bons from this sweeterie. You'll find a virtual display case of tantalizing photos and delectable wordplay. As a writer, I am floored by Karey's wordsmithery. Very jealous, actually, but in a "good for her" kind of way. And she lived in the Middle East before returning recently to the States. How cool is that?
{it's blurrier when I import it to Blogger, for some reason...}Anyway, stop by for some visual and emotional indulgence. It may not make your taste buds sing the way a hand-rolled, 72-percent dark chocolate truffle will. But I, for one, could probably spare myself the calories and go for a bite of "candy for the soul," as the T.Ruffles girls call it.
Friday, October 30, 2009
Spiller
I have many nicknames.
Some are affectionate -- Sweetheart, for example.
Some have to do with my name -- Kate, KEG, KEGgerator, Thorney (maiden name was Thorne).
Some are downright random -- Boogs, Boofer, Moose, to name a few.
And a handful are sort of teasing -- Gypsy, Bag Lady, and... Spiller.
Today I want to write about why I am known as Spiller.
I've never claimed to be graceful. I can be poised and gracious at weddings or cocktail parties, but graceful, smooth, naturally athletic, possessing a sense of balance? Those qualities, I lack.
I run into walls and door frames in my own house, frequently have to remind myself "swing your arms," and shuffle my feet when I walk, which often leads to epics tumbles. And yes, I blame it on the pavement. "Wow, that sidewalk is uneven!" I say to no one in particular, laughing nervously as I pick myself up off the ground. I bump my head about 50 percent of the time when getting in and out of cars, and I perpetually have curling iron burns on my neck, scalp, or forehead.
Basically, I'm clumsy.
Brad dubbed me "Spiller" after about the 12th or 13th time I knocked over a glass, mug, or bottle full of liquid.
I hate the nickname Spiller.
Inevitably, kitchen table flooding commences, and as I'm running to the drawer where I keep the rags, I hear "Spillllllleeerrrrrrrrrr," the end of the word rising in the same tone and tenor that Ricky Ricardo used to cry, "Lucccccyyyyyyyy."
And I shoot back with a, "Well you filled my glass up too high!" or "You shouldn't put your tea so close to the edge!"
But every now and then, I have to face the reality that this particular nickname is well-earned.
Exhibit A:
You may recognize that as a SEVERELY shattered iPhone screen. Frankly, I have never seen anything quite like it.
It's the result of a "freak" (I contend) purse-falling incident in an airport parking lot one evening. My purse "fell" from a height of about 18 inches, the phone seemed to tumble out in slow motion, and when I picked it up, it looked like it had been swathed in spider webs.
I really cannot understand how such carnage came from so little clumsiness. But there it is.
I was by myself, so I determined to conceal the damage from he-who-loves-to-call-me-Spiller. I did my research and found I could replace the phone for $250 (Apple doesn't fix screens; they just replace the phone if it's under warranty). Whew, okay, done. I made plans to go to Northpark the next day for the switcheroo.
But as I was lying (no pun intended) in bed, I started thinking about other, less expensive options.
K, sweetly: "Brad?"
B, sleepily: "Hmm."
K: "Do you remember what credit card we bought my iPhone with?" (I lost my original iPhone in May and paid Brad back in installments for a new one.)
B: "Umm, not really."
K: "Well... Can you think of it?"
B: "Why?"
K: "No reason, really... Just curious."
(silence)
K: Hey Brad?
B (trying to sleep and growing frustrated): What.
K: Do you know if any of your credit cards insure purchases against loss or damage?
B: What did you do.
K: Nothing, I --
B: Katie, what did you do to your iPhone.
So I showed him. And he had the same reaction I did: "What's that on the screen?"
Yes, he called me Spiller. But he fixed my problem, too. After quite a bit of research the next morning, he found a place in Dallas that fixes iPhones in 15 minutes while you wait, for less than a third of what Apple would have charged. Their work is so good that they won't void the warranty; Apple will have no idea the parts aren't original or the phone was ever opened, supposedly.
My man delivered. I don't know why I was so hesitant to admit what happened. In fact, Brad bought me a gift.
A "Spiller-proof" iPhone case.
Some are affectionate -- Sweetheart, for example.
Some have to do with my name -- Kate, KEG, KEGgerator, Thorney (maiden name was Thorne).
Some are downright random -- Boogs, Boofer, Moose, to name a few.
And a handful are sort of teasing -- Gypsy, Bag Lady, and... Spiller.
Today I want to write about why I am known as Spiller.
I've never claimed to be graceful. I can be poised and gracious at weddings or cocktail parties, but graceful, smooth, naturally athletic, possessing a sense of balance? Those qualities, I lack.
I run into walls and door frames in my own house, frequently have to remind myself "swing your arms," and shuffle my feet when I walk, which often leads to epics tumbles. And yes, I blame it on the pavement. "Wow, that sidewalk is uneven!" I say to no one in particular, laughing nervously as I pick myself up off the ground. I bump my head about 50 percent of the time when getting in and out of cars, and I perpetually have curling iron burns on my neck, scalp, or forehead.
Basically, I'm clumsy.
Brad dubbed me "Spiller" after about the 12th or 13th time I knocked over a glass, mug, or bottle full of liquid.
I hate the nickname Spiller.
Inevitably, kitchen table flooding commences, and as I'm running to the drawer where I keep the rags, I hear "Spillllllleeerrrrrrrrrr," the end of the word rising in the same tone and tenor that Ricky Ricardo used to cry, "Lucccccyyyyyyyy."
And I shoot back with a, "Well you filled my glass up too high!" or "You shouldn't put your tea so close to the edge!"
But every now and then, I have to face the reality that this particular nickname is well-earned.
Exhibit A:
You may recognize that as a SEVERELY shattered iPhone screen. Frankly, I have never seen anything quite like it.It's the result of a "freak" (I contend) purse-falling incident in an airport parking lot one evening. My purse "fell" from a height of about 18 inches, the phone seemed to tumble out in slow motion, and when I picked it up, it looked like it had been swathed in spider webs.
I really cannot understand how such carnage came from so little clumsiness. But there it is.
I was by myself, so I determined to conceal the damage from he-who-loves-to-call-me-Spiller. I did my research and found I could replace the phone for $250 (Apple doesn't fix screens; they just replace the phone if it's under warranty). Whew, okay, done. I made plans to go to Northpark the next day for the switcheroo.
But as I was lying (no pun intended) in bed, I started thinking about other, less expensive options.
K, sweetly: "Brad?"
B, sleepily: "Hmm."
K: "Do you remember what credit card we bought my iPhone with?" (I lost my original iPhone in May and paid Brad back in installments for a new one.)
B: "Umm, not really."
K: "Well... Can you think of it?"
B: "Why?"
K: "No reason, really... Just curious."
(silence)
K: Hey Brad?
B (trying to sleep and growing frustrated): What.
K: Do you know if any of your credit cards insure purchases against loss or damage?
B: What did you do.
K: Nothing, I --
B: Katie, what did you do to your iPhone.
So I showed him. And he had the same reaction I did: "What's that on the screen?"
Yes, he called me Spiller. But he fixed my problem, too. After quite a bit of research the next morning, he found a place in Dallas that fixes iPhones in 15 minutes while you wait, for less than a third of what Apple would have charged. Their work is so good that they won't void the warranty; Apple will have no idea the parts aren't original or the phone was ever opened, supposedly.
My man delivered. I don't know why I was so hesitant to admit what happened. In fact, Brad bought me a gift.
A "Spiller-proof" iPhone case.
Monday, September 28, 2009
O Canada
I'm here in Vancouver, and this city is blowing my mind. I was surprised to find this is by far the most international city I have encountered. We're staying in the heart of downtown, so that may account for some of the multinational spirit, but everything is multiple languages and each person looks completely individual (race, manner of dress, personal expression via tattoos, piercings, dyed hair). I bought some Ritz cheese crackers at the nearest drug store, London Drug, and the flavor was "Vrai Cheddar" (French for "Real Cheddar"). Most of the store's snack food packaging was in French.
Vancouver embodies everything I love about the Northwest, with its subversive energy, art, music, color, gorgeous topography married with a real urban feeling... the list goes on. I'm in love.
I landed at 1 p.m. local time yesterday and wandered downtown amid the iconoclasts, bohemians and businesspeople. I ran across an Indian culture festival and a war protest. The Olympics will be here in February, and those five rings already adorn buildings and signs. On Robson Street, I ate a late lunch of sushi, then enjoyed a Boba tea with pearls while poking around in boutiques ranging from the quirky to the ultra-chic.
We drove from the airport through an island neighborhood called Granville Island. I hear that's a fun, funky place, but I doubt we'll have a chance to visit. I want to come back with Brad to explore for a week!
Friday, September 25, 2009
Hotel Lust
The days whiz by as I prepare for my whirlwind jaunt across seven countries and four continents. Honestly, I've been focused on a thousand other things, so I have not yet had time to really get excited about the travel ahead of me.
My dear, sweet husband has done much of the legwork: buying adapters and voltage converters, calling our bank and credit card to alert them we'll be abroad, arranging for a house-sitter, and reserving hotels.
When he told me yesterday he had booked our last hotel, I felt a twinge of anticipation. The places we are staying are incredible, and he managed to get very good deals. (His company is paying for the bulk of the trip, as Brad will be working, but we're extending our stay a few days to explore.) He timed his school schedule with our travel well; he's taking "Master Negotiation," so I know I can count on him to haggle for us, whether it comes to hotels or Moroccan rugs.
In Barcelona, we'll be at the Costanza, a 4-star hotel with a sleek, minimalist aesthetic. From the Web site:
We are staying in two different riads (hotels) in Marrakech, as October is one of the city's busier months and many locations were booked for all or part of our stay. Both have been highly recommended by previous guests, and the location couldn't be better. I'm amazed we were able to find vacancies at two such jewels within the Medina... These places are truly incredible. Not to mention that the innkeepers have been emailing with us at midnight, their time, with suggestions of places to visit and eat. They have already been so personal, accommodating, and hands-on, and we won't even arrive for another two weeks!
First, we'll stay at Riad El Mansour. I'm feeling giddy just typing this out. The food there is supposed to be amazing, and the decor is just what I would imagine for Morocco. Below are pictures of the hotel and our actual room. From the Web site:
{bed in our suite}
{bathroom in our suite}
{our fireplace, ahhhh!}
{seating, art, etc.}
{more shared spaces, art, etc.}
Next, we'll go to Riad Dar Charkia. From their Web site:
{shared spaces}
My dear, sweet husband has done much of the legwork: buying adapters and voltage converters, calling our bank and credit card to alert them we'll be abroad, arranging for a house-sitter, and reserving hotels.
When he told me yesterday he had booked our last hotel, I felt a twinge of anticipation. The places we are staying are incredible, and he managed to get very good deals. (His company is paying for the bulk of the trip, as Brad will be working, but we're extending our stay a few days to explore.) He timed his school schedule with our travel well; he's taking "Master Negotiation," so I know I can count on him to haggle for us, whether it comes to hotels or Moroccan rugs.
In Barcelona, we'll be at the Costanza, a 4-star hotel with a sleek, minimalist aesthetic. From the Web site:
A recently built hotel, designed by the world-renown architects Rafael Moneo, Manuel de Solà-Morales y Lucho Marcial. Located at the Avenida Diagonal/Numancia axies, Barcelona's commercial and financial centre. Bright and spacious rooms; avant-garde interiors and contemporary art. All that backed up by NH's flawless styles for your visit to this capital city.
{lounge}
{breakfast area}
{rooftop pool and deck}
{Spanish sushi?}
{hotel restaurant}
{suite}
{spa}
{I don't know what this is, but doesn't it look refreshing?!}
We are staying in two different riads (hotels) in Marrakech, as October is one of the city's busier months and many locations were booked for all or part of our stay. Both have been highly recommended by previous guests, and the location couldn't be better. I'm amazed we were able to find vacancies at two such jewels within the Medina... These places are truly incredible. Not to mention that the innkeepers have been emailing with us at midnight, their time, with suggestions of places to visit and eat. They have already been so personal, accommodating, and hands-on, and we won't even arrive for another two weeks!
First, we'll stay at Riad El Mansour. I'm feeling giddy just typing this out. The food there is supposed to be amazing, and the decor is just what I would imagine for Morocco. Below are pictures of the hotel and our actual room. From the Web site:
Riad El Mansour is a six bedroomed boutique hotel, situated a short stroll from the vibrant and pulsating Place Jemaa el-Fna. This world heritage site is at the heart of the legendary 'Rose city' of Marrakech; one of Morocco’s most popular vacation destinations.
Designed for those seeking a more intimate and personalised luxury hotel break, Riad El Mansour offers authenticity and originality. The hotel has been recently refurbished, using a palate of traditional Moroccan colours, and an original mix of Moroccan and European art and furniture. We take pride on our high level of service and hospitality.Located in the ancient Medina, setting us apart from other holiday villas in Morocco, Riad El Mansour provides a truly magical setting from which to explore the rich tapestry of the contrasting character of the Moroccan landscape - a landscape interwoven with the heady mixture of Arab, African and European cultures.
Ideal for a luxury weekend break, or longer stay, the Riad offers a Spa, Hamman, Gym and Jaccuzzi making a perfect choice for your Morocco holiday.
{bed in our suite}
{bathroom in our suite}
{our fireplace, ahhhh!}
{seating, art, etc.}
{shared spaces}
{more shared spaces, art, etc.}Next, we'll go to Riad Dar Charkia. From their Web site:
Again, pictures of the hotel and our actual room:Finished to the highest specifications of comfort and style reflecting the coming together of Africa and Asia, Dar Charkia is in an oasis of calm amidst the vibrant cacophony of the Marrakech medina.
After a 20 year love affair with Marrakech, Lisa and Michael, the Anglo-German owners have taken up residence in this magical city that assaults the senses. They are happy to share their tips and insider knowledge; helping to make your stay comfortable, memorable and inspiring.
{our room}
{wider view of our room}
{supposedly this is in our room, but it looks like
it might be by the pool, which is just outside our room}
it might be by the pool, which is just outside our room}
{pool and other pretties}
{shared spaces}The trips feel more real now that all of our arrangements are made! I'll try to blog along the way, but I can't make any guarantees of Internet access. Perhaps I'll do a travel guide upon my return.
Off to Vancouver day after tomorrow!
Off to Vancouver day after tomorrow!
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
World Traveling
{cup of apple tea on my desk}
One of the hidden benefits of Brad's and my jobs is that we have the opportunity to scratch our itch for wanderlust by traversing the globe. We'll log plenty of miles over the next 30 days in particular... I'm leaving Sunday for a four-day trip to Vancouver for a meeting. The next day I head to Europe and Africa for two weeks with Brad for his job. A couple of days after I return from that trip, it's off to Chicago and then New York City, then I have my fingers crossed that I'll be able to go to Japan for a product launch.
While visions of four continents in 30 days dance in my head, I know I'll look forward to some quiet time in November. That time of year makes me crave pumpkin spice lattes, cable-knit blankets, hats... Trite, perhaps, but oh so satisfying during cozy autumn weather. Brad and I also celebrate our anniversary and his birthday during the fall, and we typically go to his parents' house in San Miguel de Allende for Thanksgiving.
What are your favorite fall traditions?
Tuesday, September 08, 2009
Beach Weekend
How did you celebrate the three-day weekend? Brad and I decided to sneak away to the beach house his aunt and uncle share with his grandparents. We have both been traveling quite a bit (separately) and needed some time to unwind and sit shoulder-to-shoulder. I brought a stack of books to read on the beach, but of course I ended up just enjoying the sun and waves instead.
My new camera made the trip with us as well. I'm attending a digital photography seminar on Saturday, since I want to get really special pictures on our upcoming trip to the Mediterranean. And yes, we decided on Morocco instead of Paris. "I'll always have Paris..." :)
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