Tag archive for travel

A couple of months ago I received a message from ginger, she said it was my last chance. She had booked tickets to Paris and if I wanted in on the action I had better step up my game. Back in the fall she had told me of her plans and asked if I was interested. I had been non-committal, busy at work and all in all just not sure. But when my final warning came in I decided to give the trip some more serious thought.

Here we are about 2 months later and I’m sitting in seat 16F looking out my window, 35,000 feet in the air and halfway across Canada. To be exact, somewhere over Beausejour, where ever that is. For one reason or another Ginger and I always manage to make time for each other when it comes to Paris, although this time our visit is much overdue.

I have always enjoyed traveling with Ginger. We seem to have a similar idea of what it takes to have a good vacation. So far we have a Google map with some rough ideas of sites, food and general things that we want to do while we are in Paris. Unstructured is a good way to describe how we approach things. We often find ourselves gathered around a table with our sketchbooks and a couple of cups of tea, planning the area that we want to visit the next day. Most of our time is spent wandering streets, taking photos and I like to stop often for treats.
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In the days leading up to my departure, when I wasn’t making little stacks of items that needed to be packed on the living room floor, I was scanning the internet for all things French. That is when I came upon this recipe in Dorie Greenspan cookbook, Paris Sweets for World Peace/Korova Cookies. It was fate, they were french and I had to make them. We devoured them in record time and when the cookies were all finished I hopped on my plane for Paris.

I can’t say with authority that Paris is at its prime in autumn. But, autumn in Paris is a lovely season. There’s cooling temperatures, the crunch of fallen leaves on the cobblestones and a golden light that all combine to make this a great time of year in Paris. (Is there a not-so-great time of year in Paris? More research may be needed!) Tina and I have had a chance to spend time together in Paris and while we aren’t there now, thought we’d share a little slice of our adventures on the blog.

For me, travel is less about a must-see list and more about experiencing a different culture. I want to see a little piece of it in detail, instead of the top picks in brief. I’m happy to find a chair in a sunny spot in Luxembourg Gardens and people watch for an hour than wait in a jostling line to stand close to the Mona Lisa for a moment. We do odd things like frequent various metro stations in hopes of a perfectly moody shot for Tina or follow street bands on their way to the evening’s gig.

I appreciate the familiarity I find returning to the same wine shop or market vendor. Those snippets of conversation over my wine selection for the evening or multiple questions about when and how I plan to eat the little box of late season fraises des bois (Non, non, don’t leave them for tomorrow!) stand out in my memory.

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We search out boulangeries where ever we go, looking for favorite treats. Tina always has her eye out for a slice of flan and I am happy to sample pain aux raisins at any hour. At midday, we pick out a baguette sandwich and head outside to eat it. As the afternoon winds down, we look for the long line of Parisians, queueing up for their evening baguette and join in the fun.

We climb most any structure with stairs. Our apartment is on the fifth floor of a building with a tiny spiraling staircase. (Don’t bring a big suitcase!) The Eiffel tower, Notre Dame, the stairs of Montmartre, Sacré Coeur, the Arc de Triomphe, we climb them all. We stop counting stairs.

We wander in the markets that stretch out on the street and find mushrooms and pumpkins, cider and artichokes. The olive harvest is happening in the south of France and we search out our favorite varieties. We stand in line for piping hot potato galettes that warm our hands in the chilly morning air.

On Sunday, there is a little gathering on one end of the market by the church. A square where the stalls end and the tables and chairs begin. There is accordion music and dancing. And on a sunny afternoon in Paris, this is all we need.

Two cars, eight friends, one road, endless adventures to be had. I can say with a fair amount of certainty that I don’t have much experience with road trips. I have been on all of about two in my lifetime. Neither of which took more than a few days. When I found out a few weeks ago that I would be going on a road trip with 7 other people I really wasn’t sure how the whole thing would play out, but we had an amazing time exploring and taking photos.

Here are a few excerpts from my eight-day road trip through Alberta.

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Winter can be long. And for those of us who are blessed with non snowy winters, the damp grey months seem to drag on forever. This fall and winter started out spectacularly. We had more sun and less rain than I have seen in the fourteen odd years that I have called Vancouver home.  But the Farmers Alimac warned that when winter finally hit us it was going to be a cold one. For most of the country that has been true, here in Vancouver it hasn’t been particularly cold, but it sure has felt dark and dreary. To top it all off, I have just been too busy to have much down time and any notion of a extended vacation is months away.

About a year ago Scott and I had made a 45 minute trek just outside of Vancouver to the small community of Point Roberts. While there we learned that the small village was a quant little spot filled with vacation rentals. It seemed like the perfect spot to return for a little winter weekend away. Right smack in the middle of my winter dulldrams we decided it was time to cash in our trip to Point Roberts. We found the perfect little cottage, booked it and a couple of weeks later we were all packed up in the car and heading for America.

Point Roberts is a little tiny piece of America that is surrounded by water on three sides and attached directly to Canada on the fourth. Children living in The Point have to board a bus and take a 40 minute ride through Canada and then cross back into mainland America to attend school. Additionally most of Point Roberts emergency services are provided by local Canadian services. So as you can imagine it is an interesting little spot to visit.

Our plan for the weekend was to eat, sleep, getup, drink coffee, eat a little more, explore the area a little, eat some more, sleep… and so on. We had cooking on our minds and stocked our tiny cabin full of groceries so we could eat in all weekend long. We had planned a hearty warm soup, pancake breakfast and most excitingly a Raclette dinner paired with some bubbly.
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As you may have guessed, eating was one of the main goals for the weekend, but once we had eaten our fill we bundled up in our toques and gloves and headed to the beach. I had really been looking forward to wandering the beach as somehow even though it is so close to home the beach is just a little different than our Vancouver beaches. The mountains are further away, the trees where littered with Bald Eagles and for some strange reason the shore line was sprinkled with rusted out car parts. All of which made for exciting exploring!

After just a few short days away we returned home relaxed, well feed and ready to face another week of grey drizzle.

There is nothing quite like a little road trip to bring on the holiday feeling. Tucked up snug in the car with Christmas tunes and plenty of snacks for the drive, things start feeling festive. Recently, we did just that and headed for the hills to the west in hopes of holiday lights and snow in Leavenworth. The timing wasn’t meant to be with the snow, but we did see our fair share of holiday lights. Here are a few sights from the weekend.

It was our first time visiting Leavenworth and the weekend of the Christkindlmarkt seemed like as good a time as any to visit. I’m not going to lie, visions of warm mugs of glühwein were dancing in my head. The holiday lights were festively glowing when we arrived and made for a perfect little stroll through downtown.

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What’s more, I also found the Bavarian Bakery, just on the edge of town, with multiple stollen options and thick slices of striezel dipped in chocolate. Just the inspiration I needed to head home and start some baking of my own!

I hope the festive season has found you and yours. It’s hard to not feel festive with one of these gems sitting up amongst the glassware these days! I’m looking forward to being back in this space a little more frequently and sharing the season with you.

A few days back, browsing Instagram, like you do, I came upon someone’s description of themselves that stopped me cold. Grocery store tourist. I think there were a few other words shared, but those ones really resonated with me. I wanted to rewrite my Instagram profile on the spot, but I didn’t quite feel right about reusing that description. But it’s just so perfect for me.

I hadn’t really thought about it in those specific terms, but I am that grocery store tourist. Take me to any grocery store and don’t expect to leave anytime soon. I am going to wander the aisles—up and down every last one of them. I want to see everything that is on offer. Unique produce, unusual sweets, new tea varieties and let me not forget the dairy section.

Even better is the foreign grocery store in a faraway country. English is not the main language here, leaving me puzzling over the few words that I can piece together on the packaging. And try finding your way around a grocery store organized in a non-American configuration. Where, oh where, did they put the salt? But that is the adventure—never knowing what I’ll find next. Maybe a different variety of Haribo candy or a wall of rosé at the corner quick mart.

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Sometimes grocery stores play a key role in my travels. Recently I visited a friend in California and planned some time to go to a Persian grocery store, eat an authentic meal and stop by an ice cream shop. (More on that later!) Inspired by a magazine article here, a new cookbook there and this crazy curiosity that propels us cooking types into new territory, I wanted to make some Persian food. Reading through recipes proved that I would need some exciting ingredients and maybe a dash of inspiration. And where better to find both of those things than wandering the tight aisles of a little shop looking for the ingredients on my list.

I found bags of fresh sour cherries at the counter and a baskets of vibrant fresh herbs. Bottles of stacked yogurt sodas, doogh, like I had just enjoyed with my meal, spilled into the narrow walkway. Tucked away in the back corner of the shop was the spice wall, covered in little hanging packets, all neatly arranged like a fine art display. Rows of fancy brands of orange flower and red rose water. I came away with a bag of puckery sour smelling dried limes and a plastic clamshell of tiny dried barberries that should last me for a while! My surprise discovery was a supply of fruit leathers, sour cherry, pomegranate and plum, that I had to try. Sweet success at the grocery store.

Not long ago back home, a friend was sharing his supply of fancy German mustard at a backyard party and I took a measured dollop to enjoy with my hotdog. Mmmm! Another friend texted me to let me know she spotted fresh figs in a local store. While the description of grocery store tourist took me by surprise, I hardly think I am alone. Thank goodness…

There’s no doubt about it, Paris has officially stolen my heart. No matter that my French is nothing to be proud of and that my scarf tying techniques still need improvement. I can’t think of a better place to work on both of those deficiencies!

My only complaint about my last visit was that my sister was not with me. That was understandable, since my own plans came together fairly last minute out of sheer need to get away. And while the timing couldn’t have been better on that front, I realized that future trips need to include more planning time so we can spend that time together.

For me, travel is not so much about what I can see. Don’t get me wrong, I am not going to miss an opportunity to stop by the Eiffel Tower. But some of my favorite moments might include regular treks to a nearby market. Especially once you have stopped by enough times to gain a little recognition with a vendor. This time, my regular stops by the produce stand yielded me a fresh piece of fruit with each visit. Fruit, at the cusp of ripeness and perfection, gently wrapped in a paper sack with a little packing for the journey.

And with that daily selection of choice ingredients comes the need for some time in the kitchen. Simplicity is key when you are traveling – no fancy dinners here. Just plain fresh good food, with the automatic additions of a baguette and wine. That time spent standing over the stove, gazing off into the courtyard, makes me feel at home.

Tina and I are always cooking together whenever we get a chance. Paris is no different. We roll up our sleeves, turn on some music and pour a glass of something before setting into the task at hand. Suddenly, the generous basket of chanterelles doesn’t seem to daunting to wash. The salad dressing becomes amazing with two sets of tasters sampling it. Cooking is always better with someone else.

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All of that shopping around is bound to bring inspiration. This time, the Raspail organic market gave me some ideas for a salad. Of course, the Sunday market on Boulevard Raspail is a dream to most food-oriented folks. One after another, vendors line the street with a range of everything organic. I was hungry when I got there and couldn’t help notice the vendor with the little tubs of take away salads. A simple fennel salad caught my attention and I ordered a little to take with me. (Don’t you doubt it, the hot potato galettes at the start of the market had me standing in line straight away, but I am talking about the salad today!)

Shopping done, we wandered over to the Luxembourg Gardens and found seats by the Medici fountain.  The gardens always seem like a perfect spot for a picnic, and my fennel salad made for perfect picnic fare. This simple salad consisted of roughly chopped fennel, dressed with citrus and a more than generous helping of pink peppercorns. I savored the moment, and the salad, tucking away the specifics in my mind for recreation later.

Fast forward a few weeks and I am standing in my kitchen. It’s not overlooking a courtyard. I’ve gathered all of the ingredients, not from an organic street market, but I’ve done my best.

It doesn’t take long – I slice up the fennel, a little thinner than my original salad. A bulb will do, depending on how many people you are serving. A generous squeeze of lemon juice, followed by a drizzle of olive oil and you are just about done. Salt to taste and pepper with as many pink peppercorns as you dare. Initially, I was concerned about overdoing it with the pink peppercorns, but as I learned, they are not the same as our usual black and white peppercorns. Instead, pink peppercorns add a fragrant and distinctly sweet flavor for foods. And, it really shines in this salad.

So here I am, sitting at my table with my dish of fennel salad and tasting Paris. I might as well be sitting right back at the fountain on that beautiful fall day. Really, it’s the simple things that end up meaning the most.