The Plane or Train in Spain?

Exactly two months from today, I will board a plane for Europe.  I'm crossing the pond much sooner than I had anticipated.  An opportunity presented itself and I am taking it; the band Peter plays in is going back on tour this spring and I am meeting him in Spain once it ends.  We are taking the trip we would have taken had he been able to return to Europe at the end of my teaching contract. 

I am flying from Vancouver to Amsterdam.  I have a few-hours-long layover in Schiphol before boarding a plane to Madrid.  Now that we are two months away from our trip, it's getting near time to solidify how long we want to be in each Madrid, Barcelona, and Amsterdam.  We both fly back to North America from Amsterdam, and Peter really liked the Netherlands when he's been on tour there, so we would like to spend time there too.  Our trip is 10 days, so I'm inclined to allot three days to each city.  If you've been to any or all of these cities, what do you think?

My next planning dilemma is how we will get from Madrid to Barcelona.  It seems we have three options:

1. Easy Jet does not fly from Madrid to Barcelona, yet Ryan Air does.  I have never flown with Ryan Air, but the reviews I've read and heard have not been great.  Ryan Air also typically tends to fly to airports on the outskirts.  Ryan Air flies to Barcelona-Girona which is 98km away from Barcelona; the city can be reached by either bus or train.  The flight takes 1 hour 30, and airfare starts at €20,51 each.
2. There is a high speed train from Madrid to Barcelona that takes 2 hours 30.  From what I've been able to discern on the Renfe website, fares start at €118,50 each.  There is also an overnight option for €44,60 that departs just before 11:00pm and arrives just after 7:30am.  Despite the savings, I'd be less inclined to opt for this as I am not sure of how restful the train would be.  I have also been told that the Spanish countryside, and especially the coast, are worth seeing, which we wouldn't get a view of at night.
3. Driving.  This option is very expensive and likely out of our budget.  According to Google Maps (which has failed me before when planning road trips), the drive from Madrid to Barcelona via Valencia takes 7 hours 21.  The benefit is that we could take a day to do the trip at our own cost and stop in Valencia for lunch.  

Have you been to Spain?  How would you recommend we divide our time between each city?  What mode of transportation would you recommend we take?  Any other tips?  I'd love to hear!

(Map photograph: My own of Atlas Général Bordas, publication year unknown)

Happy Springtime!

I hope you had a good long weekend! I, for one, have certainly been in need of a break from the usual 9-to-5 grind, and I have had simply the loveliest weekend--in no small part due to the wonderful weather we have had this weekend.  I feel like this is the first time I have been able to truly enjoy Vancouver in the springtime as, being graduated, I don't have to worry about this being the last weekend of term and racing to finish any school work.

Saturday morning Peter and I woke up after having seen our friend Hannah Georgas play with Kathleen Edwards the night before at the Commodore.  The show was one of the best I had seen in a long time.  I really liked Hannah's new material, and even though I wasn't super familiar with Kathleen Edwards' discography (other than Failer), she is such a good musician and performer that it didn't matter.

For breakfast (or by the time we sat down to eat, brunch) Saturday, we made Eggs Benedict following a recipe in the new cookbook my sister gave me.  What to Cook and How to Cook It is a beautifully designed cookbook.  While targeted at beginners, as an intermediate, I haven't found the books instructions to be pedantic.  In fact, having never formerly learned to cook, I find the step-by-step photos that accompany the directions really helpful. 

I thought the Hollandaise sauce would be the trickiest part, given all the recommendations on how to fix it if it goes wrong.  The sauce was the easiest part.  As directed, I cracked an egg into a teacup and created a whirlpool in a pot of water into which I slipped the egg.  The first one swirled around and solidified into an oblong shape.  The second one separated.  In all it took us 6 eggs to get 4 right.  I felt a bit like Julie Powell in that one scene from Julie & Julia.  It was well worth it, and something I would like to master, as our homemade Eggs Benny were so much lighter tasting than their restaurant equivalent.  We ate them on our sunny balcony with fresh cut fruit.  Divine!

Off-Season Tourism

Or, Winter Wonderland in Amsterdam

This photo of people ice skating on Prinsengracht canal in Amsterdam recently captured my imagination and aroused my wanderlust.  It also got me thinking about off-season travel.  Wouldn't it be amazing to skate down Amsterdam's canals and admire the charmingly crooked canal homes?

I visited Amsterdam a year ago, in March.  The weather was dry and bright, if a bit cold.  I had hoped to see tulips in bloom, but I think I was a bit early for them still.

(Photo by Margaret Faber, AP via Huffington Post.  Link found via Cup of Jo.)

Off-Season Tourism

Or, Paris in the Spring

Paris in the spring. What a romantic notion. Or is it?

My year abroad coincided with the so-called shoulder and off-season tourism periods. Nevertheless, I made the most of my generous French holidays to travel the country and continent. I was immediately won over to off-season travel by the breathtaking beauty of autumn in Belgium.  No clearer were the benefits of dodging peak-season travel as when I visited Paris in the spring.

Last April I accompanied my friend Emily on a trip to Paris the weekend of April 8-10.  She had courageously and determinedly enrolled to run the Marathon de Paris, and I was tagging along as moral support and to undertake my own marathon of Paris' museums.  (Read about Emily's marathon here.)

There was a stark contrast in the crowds at the museums between the weekend of the marathon and when I returned to Paris  with my mum just three weeks later.  Emily and I visited l'Orangerie on Friday and I visited the Musée Marmottan Monet on the Sunday; the time spent waiting in line to enter was so short as to be negligible.  Three weeks later, in early May, my mum and I arrived at the Louvre first thing to discover a line already hours-long.  Instead we decided to visit Notre-Dame and the Sainte-Chapelle (which I had never seen); we spent a good hour waiting in line to visit the latter.  The next morning, my mum and I arrived at the Musée d'Orsay first thing and spent 45 minutes in line.  It was worth the wait, especially as it was my mum's first time in Paris, but it was interesting to note the dramatic increase in the number of tourists only three weeks later.

Have you ever travelled during the off-season? What was your experience? How have you coped with mass crowds of tourists during peak seasons? Do you have any tips to share?

Dark Tourism

A Matisse postcard from the Musée des Beaux-Arts de Lyon that
my friend Cynthia sent me in 2007 that I still use as a bookmark.

I just finished reading Seeing Hitler's Germany: Tourism in the Third Reich by Kristin Semmens. A little over a month ago I had wondered to myself if there was tourism in Nazi Germany. A simple google search revealed that someone had written a book on the topic, so I got it from my alma mater's library. In the preface Semmens thanks both Dr. Christopher Friedrichs and cites Dr. Anne Gorsuch, both professors of history at my alma mater, which tipped me off that Semmens graduated from the same undergraduate honours programme as me. Semmens obtained her doctorate at the University of Cambridge; Seeing Hitler's Germany is her doctoral thesis.

Seeing Hitler's Germany was intriguing. It examined the Gleischschaltung of commercial tourism but also demonstrated that to a large extent German tourism organizations willingly fell into line with Nazi policies. Semmen's investigation was comprehensive in terms of the geographical regions studied, and she compared and contrasted tourism in different regions (e.g. the Black Forest vs. Berlin). One of the most interesting things I learned reading this book was the Kraft durch Freude (Strength Through Joy) programme, designed to enable Germans of lower economic classes to enjoy leisure travel. Tourism, as Semmens herself argues in her introduction, is not a trivial topic of study. Rather, the study of tourism under Hitler reveals much about the Nazis' politics, use of propaganda, and mobilization leading up to the Second World War. Tourism and travel was used to build a sense of community among Germans. International tourism, of Germans abroad and foreigners in Germany, was further used to legitimize the Nazi regime leading up to the outbreak of the war. Tourism in Germany did not cease with the outbreak of the war, but (strangely) persisted nearly to the very end; I could not imagine being a tourist in a war-torn country.

Semmens raises some interesting points in her conclusion. She writes:

After the Second World War, a kind of 'dark tourism' emerged in Germany, as the former sites of death and terror in the Third Reich became 'must see' sights on the tourist trail. Today, Dachau, Buchenwald, Sachsenhausen and other 'fatal attractions' linked to the Hitler dictatorship draw thousands of visitors each year. The . . . [2004] Lonely Planet guide to Germany, for example, lists the former concentration camp at Dachau as one of the key attractions around Munich . . . . Foreign and German travellers climb the trails to see Hitler's Tea House on the Obersalzberg in southern Bavaria; they take part in guided tours to view the location of his underground bunker in Berlin. Of course, not all German cities are equally keen to promote this dark past, as a recent trip to Nuremberg revealed. At the tourist information centre, brochures about the Reich Party Rally grounds were available only on request and at a cost.

The image of a crowd of holidaymakers -- guidebooks in hands, cameras at the ready -- descending on a site like Dachau is admittedly disturbing. Yet tourism plays a role in Germany's ongoing attempt to come to terms with its Nazi past. Today, leisure travel has become an important vehicle for understanding and working through a nation's history, not only in Germany, but also in many other countries struggling to confront their own horrific legacies. . . .

The latter paragraph resonated with me. Having studied German history, I was somewhat anxious prior to departing for Europe on my year abroad. Would I go to Poland and visit Auschwitz? What would that visit be like and how would I feel? I imagine it would be profoundly upsetting.

I haven't yet visited Poland or a concentration camp. I did, however, visit Berlin. Jacky and I went on a free walking tour that took us to many memorials, including one to the Nazi book burnings, the Neue Wache, and the Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe.

I found the Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe (pictured above) really powerful. A few interpretations our group discussed included: how the columns and slopes created an uneasy, isolating atmosphere; the columns, which become taller towards the middle of the monument, as a metaphor for the rise of tyranny and totalitarianism in Germany under Hitler. For me, it was a solemn moment. After our visit, I was left considering the city and the country's complex, multifaceted history.

Have you ever visited a concentration camp or similarly somber place? What was it like for you? If you have not, would you visit such places? How do you feel about "dark tourism"? I am curious to know.

(Postcard depicts Henri Matisse's Jeune femme en blanc, fond rouge, 1946)

Rebonjour!

Hello again!

rebonjour (ruh-bon-joor) : hello again

Salutation said to someone you have already seen that day and said hello to

-- Wiktionnaire

When I was teaching in France, I always felt a bit awkward and shy around my collègues.  I had just graduated from university at the end of the previous academic year, so being on the "other," or teachers' side was new to me.  I wasn't sure whether to call them Monsieur or Madame or by their first names (I felt particularly awkward about this toward my older collègues).  The consequence was that I would avoid addressing them by name directly when possible and would mostly end up greeting them with rebonjours every time I saw them in the teachers' lounge.

I feel a rebonjour is in order.  I started blogging again in February for a few reasons: I had been thinking of my time in France and travels throughout Europe; I felt I had more stories and anecdotes to tell about my year abroad; and I like the blog medium as an outlet for creative writing.  When I first started this blog ahead of my leaving for France, I gave it a subtitle: Travel Blog & Catalog.  I did this in part to help me stay focused on my topic, but also to allow some flexibility in posting about non-year-abroad-related things (this was before Pinterest existed as a medium to bookmark and microblog about things).

With this renewal and relaunch, I decided to freshen up the look of my dear blog.  I (impulse) bought a domain, so you can now bookmark www.cartes-postales.ca.  I also enlisted the help of two fine friends of mine: Parker Iain and Henry of Hank White Design Co.  Both gentlemen have cultivated a personal aesthetic and design style I admire, and I was delighted to work with them both.

They Say It's My Birthday

While I agree with many of Patton Oswalt's bits and find him hilarious, I disagree with him on birthdays.  I think the big 2-5 deserves a birthday because you are now a quarter of a century old.  And not just because today is the day that I mark this milestone.

Last year I felt my birthday was a non-event in terms of aging; I didn't really feel any different from how I had felt as a 23-year-old.  I was so, so touched that all my friends in France came out to celebrate with me.

I haven't been too hung up on my new number (so far).  Although, in the last three weeks I have gotten my first facial, a make-up consultation, a pore-refining cream, and am researching BB and eye creams (any advice?).  While this may  have been partially subconsciously motivated by my new number, it also had to do with the fact that I haven't really updated my skin care routine since being a teenager afflicted with acne.

I marked my birthday on the blog last year with a list of things I was thankful for.  This is my last "big" birthday for a while, the next ones being my champagne birthday and a new decade.  In this spirit, I'd like your help making a list of 30 things to do before I'm 30 (not just travel related).  What do you think I should do? 

Le vin

France and wine.  Wine and France.  The two are an indelibly linked pair.  I knew a little bit about wine tasting before I arrived in l'Hexagone, and learned a little more while I was there.  I knew about checking the colour of the wine, and the legs.  I learned to swirl a little more dexterously, and to take a bit of air into my mouth with a sip of the wine.  I still don't specifically know what all these help me determine about the wine.  The "[m]any nuances in wine – say, the vanilla richness of an oak-aged chardonnay or the astringent grip of a Barolo packed with the bitter tannins found in grape skins – are simply lost on many tongues," including mine, but wine is something I hope to keep pursuing as a hobby.

Today I read an interesting article in the Globe & Mail by Beppi Crosariol about the biology behind wine tasting.  Gary Pickering, Brock University wine science professor and co-author of the study discussed, explains:

 "'A wine critic may describe the balance between, let’s say, sweetness and acidity, or sourness and astringency, or fruit and wood . . . But the overall intensity of these sensations will be different for Joe Consumer, and that’s a function of his biology. It’s not because he’s not clever or smart or verbose or because he lacks lots of experience.'" 

This last sentence resonated with me as I was reminded of how bashful and awkward I feel when trying to verbalise a description of my favourite wine from France.

In France, if not elsewhere in Europe, you can get a perfectly good bottle of wine to drink at the grocery store; I never even ventured into a Nicolas.  In France, I fell in love with Les vins du Pays d'Oc's Muscat Sec.  I don't have a photo of the bottle, nor have I been able to find one online, but each wine from this vineyard had its own colour text on a white label and cost about 3€ at the Casino at Place du Peuple in Sté.  
 
This Muscat Sec was dry, as opposed to the Mucat Doux, its sweeter counterpart.  What I liked best about it, and how I always described it, was that when you first sipped it and took a bit of air into your mouth it was a flavour explosion.  A bit at a loss for the exact words to describe the flavour, I likened it to an Orange Pekoe taste.  What I may be trying to get at though is a sort of spicy citrus-y taste.

Since I have been home, one of my missions has been to find a suitable substitute for this Muscat Sec.  I don't know anything about this grape, but Muscats do not seem to be as readily available in Vancouver as other whites; or when I did find one, they were the sweeter one.  Above are three bottles of two replacements I have found for my French Muscat. 

Carte Postale de Reims

The postman was good to me today.  Not only did he deliver a map to my door, he also left me a letter from my cousin and the postcard above in my mailbox.  I'm delighted with all three items I received, but I thought I'd share an excerpt of what my dear Kathleen wrote.

Kathleen (whom you may remember from my American Thankgiving post) was teaching English in Saint Etienne at the collège and lycée levels at the same time as I.  She stayed for a second year in France, this time as a lectrice at the university.  She recently took advantage of a break from teaching to travel to Reims, Paris and Spain.  She wrote me (in beautiful handwriting must say): 

Coucou chérie! Voici ta carte postale de Reims. I chose the most typical cathedral one I could find.  It is so beautiful here--but I must say that the champagne tours add a lot to the beauty as well.  I'm not as good at telling the difference between the types and layers of flavour, but it's fun!

The postage affixed, I noticed, was a Lettre Verte stamp.  I didn't know about these when I was in France, but it's an apparently greener way to send your snail mail.  These green letters are delivered by ground and, according to the French post's website, their delivery emits up to 30% less CO2 than priority mail.  What a simple way to make a difference!

I would love to visit Reims.  There just wasn't enough time to fit in all the French towns worth seeing!  I wish my equally novice self was was sampling the champagnes alongside her:)  Reims would also be interesting to visit because it's where the kings of France were crowned.

Last April when Emily and I went to Paris (where she ran the marathon!), we day-tripped to Chartres.  It was a beautiful visit and I loved listening to Emily, who took a course on French cathedrals, tell me all about it. I have to admit though that would keep getting confused and mistaking it as the cathedral where the kings were crowned!

Gauguin & Polynesia

As I said, it was a poster for Gauguin at the SAM that caught my eye and prompted our trip to Seattle.

Our trip to Seattle happened to coincide with the SAM's Community Day.  When we entered the museum, there was a band playing French café music, a nice touch that transported us to late nineteenth-century France--Gauguin's time. 

Gauguin & Polynesia: An Elusive Paradise surveyed the artists' art inspired by and created during his travels the islands.  The exhibit was organized coherently, beginning with some biography about Gauguin and his visit to the 1896 Paris World's Fair that in part inspired his later travels to Polynesia, and continuing on to his works.  This was not simply a retrospective of Gauguin's Polynesian works, the show gave equal attention to traditional Polynesian art objects.  The free audio-guide was also very well done; apparently narrated by Stanley Tucci (or a vocal doppelgänger), it featured experts in the field of Polynesian art and culture as well as Seattle residents of Polynesian descent.

I found Gauguin & Polynesia thoroughly thought-provoking:

• Gauguin's Woman with a Flower reminded me of the Arlésiennes he and Van Gogh painted;
• I considered the missionary dresses the Polynesian women wore as an element and symbol of colonial oppression;
• I wondered about Polynesia life and economy prior to imperial contact;
• Gauguin's Faaturuma (Melancholic) reminded me of Picasso's Blue period (which I had the opportunity to see in Amsterdam);
• As Gauguin's first trip to Polynesia was funded in part by the French government to produce reportorial paintings, I thought of the potential problems in relying on such paintings and the advent of photography and photojournalism;
• I found that some of the tikis' facial features (particularly the large eyes and mouths) resembled the facial features in Haida art.

The show was beautiful and made me eager to learn more about Polynesian art and culture.  The SAM is the only North American stop for Gauguin & Polynesia.  If you happen to be planning a trip to Seattle, you should definitely go.

(Exhibit image in collage via the SAM)

Relaxed & Well-Rested in Seattle

Is it that Vancouverites underestimate our fellow port city, or has Seattle recently undergone a renaissance and become cool (again)?  A little over a month ago a SAM poster for Gauguin caught my eye and spurred a trip.

I totally bought into the 2 Days in Seattle campaign run by Seattle's Convention and Visitors Bureau.  It's such a cool way to harness social media to promote a city.  The recommendations I received via Twitter totally made the trip.  Communicating with residents of the city--even just through tweets--made me feel as though I was being welcomed to the city.  I hope the 2 Days website is maintained beyond this off-season and I have some ideas for improvements.*

While I would have gone to the SAM to see the Gauguin exhibit regardless, the 2 Days campaign convince me to make a weekend of it, especially as my 5(!) year anniversary with Peter fell within the exposition dates.  We hotwired a hotel (we scored the Marriott Renaissance downtown for $100+tax) and drafted a loose itinerary based on suggestions of friends and Seattle tweeps and off we went.

We rolled into Seattle at about 11 o'clock on Saturday morning and were able to check into our hotel immediately.  We dropped our suitcase in our room and consulted the concierge for walking directions to the SAM.  I'm so glad we asked, not because we couldn't have figured it out, but because our concierge offered us a pass we could use to get into the SAM for free!  On our way to the SAM we browsed a cute and well-curated shop where I picked up these gourmet lollipops (watermelon basil--yum!), and stopped for lunch at a café where I had a delicious feta and basil sandwich.  Gauguin at the SAM was amazing (but that's another post that's coming up).  

After visiting the SAM we wandered over to Pike Place Market and did a wine tasting at the Tasting Room, where the lovely ladies there introduced me to a delicious Washington Riesling.  On our way out of the Tasting Room and back to our hotel, we passed Beecher's and I promptly bought a cheddar and a lavender-anise cheese.  

For our anniversary dinner we went to Ray's Boathouse in Ballard, a recommendation tweeted to me by Seattle Maven.  I could probably write a blog post dedicated solely to this restaurant; it was simply fabulous.  Our waitress and sommelier (a delicious Austrian Riesling!) were friendly and knowledgeable, my cocktail--a rosemary grapefruit drop--was different and delicious, and the food was delicious.  The service was impeccable and even above and beyond our expectations (they even had us meet one of the chefs!).  I even joked that maybe they thought Peter was going to propose so he better get down on one knee and pop the question.  

Before turning in for the night, we had a final drink that night at Quinn's Pub, which upon entering Peter thanked the friend who recommended it to us out loud (not sure if you heard, Josh:)).  

After a comfortable night's sleep, we woke up well-rested but confused about what time it was because of the time change (daylight savings).  (Side note: our hotel had a king-size bed; any other short people love king sizes because you can sleep length and width-wise?)  We leisurely got ready and packed and headed out for brunch at Oddfellows in Capitol Hill.  We walked around the neighbourhood (Seattle is so much hillier than I would have thought--it rivals San Francisco!), and had a fourth and final coffee at Victrola on 15th.

I could certainly say more but I don't want to belabour the point: I had a wonderful weekend in Seattle; it was the perfect mid-winter pick-me-up.  Vancouverites should not overlook the Emerald City when taking a road trip down the I-5.

Kafka's Coffee Syphon

Vancouver is arguably a coffee city.  There is certainly no shortage of coffee shops in this city; in fact, I once heard that there are more Starbucks per capita in Vancouver than anywhere else in Canada.  (On a side note: While googling to see if this statistic could be verified, I found that this at at least seems to be accepted as an anecdotal truth.  I also discovered that the two Starbucks kitty-corner from each other on Robson and Thurlow seem to delight tourists.  From personal experience I can say that I was once with two friends and when we decided to go to Starbucks, we each walked in three different directions.)

A few Saturdays ago, Peter and I decided to go get a coffee at Kafka's as the first stop in what turned out to be an overly ambitious Mount Pleasant coffee tasting tour. Even though I lived in the neighbourhood when it opened, I had surprisingly never been to Kafka's (my delay probably due to leaving the country).

 

Kafka's is a nice, spacious coffee shop, which when we arrived was filled with people reading and studying, adding to its ambiance.  We managed to find two seats at a table shared by two others who were studying.

In addition to the usual espresso drinks available at most coffee shops, their menu listed pour-overs and syphons.  Feeling curious, never having heard of the latter method of brewing coffee, I ordered one.  The barista who prepared our syphon was very knowledgeable and friendly and explained the brewing process without a hint of pretension.  He explained that the syphon was one of the oldest ways to make coffee, dating from the nineteenth century.  It fell out of fashion in the mid-twentieth century but came back into vogue among coffee nerds in the 1990s.

The whole thing looked like a chemistry experiment.  He started by boiling the water in the bottom vessel with what looked like a Bunsen burner.  As the water boiled, it travelled to the upper vessel.  He then mixed in the grounds and removed the flame.  The coffee steeped and then strained itself as it dripped back down to the bottom receptacle.  The science behind the syphon is explained more eloquently in this article.

Watching the coffee syphon was intriguing and transformed customary activity into an experience.  We drank our coffees black and they were delicious. I once read that if you drink good coffee, you don't need to cut it with milk or sugar; Peter and I have been drinking black coffee for about a year now and this is absolutely true.  Even if you don't have a habit of drinking black coffee, I would at least encourage you to try a sip of black syphon coffee; this method of brewing reveals complex flavours different from a pour-over or press.

Vicky Cristina Barcelona

There are two types of people: those who love Woody Allen films and those who do not.  I identify as the first type.

When I first saw Vicky Cristina Barcelona, I immediately fell in love with the Spanish scenery so beautifully capture in this film.  Oh to dine on that Barcelona patio in the mid-morning sunlight.  Or the lovely views of Oviedo and Avilés.  It made me want to drop everything, pack up, and travel to the Iberian Peninsula. 

An interesting fact about the film is that the governments of Barcelona and Catalonia actually contributed to its funding.  While it may have been a controversial move, word is that it paid off, as others like myself were inspired to travel to Spain.  In fact, I heard--when I briefly worked in the film industry--that the increase in tourism Barcelona experienced following the film's release inspired other jurisdictions, such as Israel, to fund films.

Has a movie ever inspired you to travel somewhere?  Are you dreaming of travelling anywhere?

Tarte au citron

I set a goal at the beginning of February: to learn how to make the perfect tarte au citron comme en France.  I also gave myself a roughly two-month time limit in which to accomplish this task.  This goal was partially inspired by an apparent manque de Paul.  While I'm sure there were better bakeries and pâtisseries, Paul offered the comforts that all chain stores do: those of availability and dependable quality.

I used David Lebovitz's recipes for both the pie and crust.  I followed the recipe for the crust exactly, but diverged slightly when making the lemon curd.  I doubled the recipe, except for the sugar; I felt there was enough sugar already, and I wanted it to taste more natural than sugary.  When I later tried the pie, after having refrigerated it, I found it to be much more sour than when the curd was warm.  Lebovitz advises that the curd should be strained as it is poured into the pie shell; I did not feel this was necessary, as I had strained the lemon juice after squeezing it.  I decided to decorate my pie with candied lemons, following this recipe, but again, not adding the full recommended amount of sugar.

I used six organic Meyer lemons, plus half of a regular organic lemon for the juice.  I candied the seventh Meyer lemon.  I would recommend using organic citrus because, as a former room mate of mine pointed out, citrus peels absorb pesticides and this recipe calls for zest.  More helpful tips on cooking with citrus can be found here, including that the fruit's juice yield can be maximized by juicing it at room temperature. 

The pie, as I made it, was well received by everyone who tasted it.  While it is not exactly like the tartelettes en France as I recall them, I like this recipe, and may adjust the amount of sugar when I make it again.

Happy Valentine's Day!

When Anna, one of my best friends, was away for a year abroad in England, I sent her this Valentine's Day card with all these heart stickers on the envelope. So last year, given that I had some troubles with the postal service (pieces of mail going to or from Canada never arrived, and a Hallowe'en card that arrived in December, to name a few) I thought I'd be smart and get my Valentine's Day card to Peter in the mail extra early. I figured that it would surely arrive on time if I mailed it January 31.

February 14 arrived, and Peter surprised me by having these gorgeous flowers delivered to my front door Valentine's Day morning just before I had to leave for work.  We were chatting on Skype that morning when they arrived, and I was floating on cloud nine the rest of the day and week or so that they were in bloom (as I recall, they actually lasted a pretty long time and then dried out beautifully).  He checked his mailbox, but no card.

February 15 came and went, and still my card had not arrived.  After a few weeks of waiting, we figured it had been lost in the mail and put it out of our minds.  Meanwhile, in mid-to-late February my mom received a postcard I mailed her from Paris in December, and this gave me hope that maybe Peter would get my Valentine's Day card.

One random day in May, after I had left France and flown to Québec, Peter called me.  "Guess what I just got in the mail," he said.  "What?" I asked, having completely forgotten my Valentine's Day card and figuring he was going to tell me about something like a tax return.  It was my Valentine's Day card!

I sometimes wonder where it might have gone in between the time I slipped it in the post box in France and it arriving in his mailbox, but I'm sure the answer is neither adventurous nor romantic.  Even though it was over three months late by the time he received it, I was still as happy as I would have been if he had been able to read my heartfelt message on the right day. Because, as another one of my closest friends once said of Valentine's Day, when the roses die, the chocolates are eaten, and the cards are thrown out, I'm still going to love you.

So Happy Valentine's Day, whether you're celebrating or boycotting it, and remember to show the ones you love that you care about them every day of the year.

Twitter

When I was getting ready to go to France, one of the important things for Peter and I to figure out was how we would communicate and maintain our relationship while we were on separate continents.  One of the ways we brainstormed was getting Twitter accounts to tweet and direct message each other from. When I got to France, however, the phone I got was a basic à la carte type and Twitter via SMS was unavailable for French phone numbers.  Instead, the nine-hour time difference worked in such a way that we were able to chat on Skype twice a day, morning and night.

Have you ever been in a long-distance relationship?  How did you stay in touch with your love?  

Also, if  you look to the right side bar, you'll notice I have created a Cartes Postales twitter.  I'll post blog updates, travel tips and more.  Follow me and I'll follow you too!

2 Days in Seattle

Pike Place Market, September 2004.

I was feeling a bit down the week before last.  I considered running my frustrations out, or binging on ice cream and drinking wine by myself while watching television (how cute is this Pity Party kit found via Cup of Jo?).  But then I remembered having passed a poster on a bus stop for a Gauguin exhibit at the Seattle Art Museum.  I suggested to Peter that we attend the exhibit and make a weekend trip out of it to coincide with our upcoming five-year(!) anniversary.  Planning this, and another upcoming trip, made me feel instantly better.

Almost simultaneously, I also began noticing these 2 Days in Seattle ads run by Seattle's Convention and Visitors Bureau all over the city.  "The promotion is part of . . . [an] off-season advertising campaign targeting San Francisco, Portland and Vancouver, British Columbia," and ties into a major interactive online component.

Seattle makes total sense for a weekend trip from Vancouver, but oddly enough I've only ever been there three times.  Once in 2004 to see Van Gogh at the SAM, again in 2005 to see Blonde Redhead and Interpol play, and lastly in 2010 when Peter and I stopped for lunch Fremont to see the statue of Lenin.

I'm really looking forward to the Gauguin exhibit, checking out Pike Place Market, and grabbing a bite at Odd Fellows Café.

Creamy Avocado Pasta

I've kept a blog of some sort intermittently for nearly ten years now.  While this blog has dealt with food primarily in the context of travel and my life in France, I follow food blogs and thought I would post a recipe "review" of sorts. 

Tonight I made Oh She Glow's 15 Minute Creamy Avocado Pasta.  When I first read the recipe some weeks ago, my mouth watered.  While I find it was good, I think my execution of the recipe was a major factor in how it turned out. 

I followed the recipe exactly, except I added one can of Cannelini beans (drained and rinsed) for extra protein, sprinkled sea salt along with pepper on my pasta once I had plated it, and took a shortcut and used bottled lemon juice rather than real.  I feel this latter substitution probably significantly affected the taste.  I also made much more pasta as I failed to note the note that it does not reheat well, so lunch tomorrow will undoubtedly be interesting.  I feel the sauce needs to be warmed up in some way as just mixing it with the pasta straight out of the pot wasn't warm enough for me. 

This recipe was good, but I had (perhaps unrealistically) high expectations for it, and I feel my shortcuts took away from the end result.  I also feel that had I not doubled the amount of spaghetti I boiled, this would have been maybe almost too creamy.  I really like that this creamy pasta sauce does not contain dairy.  I will definitely make this again, but using real lemon next time.  

(photo from Oh She Glows)

Tastes Like Chicken

"A forager collects these wild snails in the Sierra Nevada mountains, then feeds them a strict diet of basil before blanching and packing them in basil water for shipping. When cooked, they become tender and infused with the flavor of the herb and are unlike any mollusk you've ever tried."

The description of how these snails are cultivated sounds really awesome and intense.  Before having taken the plunge last year and eaten escargots in France, I would never have believed that snails could be any good.  These, however, sound delicious!



(photo from Gilt Taste via Cup of Jo)

In My Life

There are places I remember
All my life, though some have changed
Some forever not for better
Some have gone and some remain
All these places had their moments
With lovers and friends I still can recall
Some are dead and some are living
In my life I've loved them all

But of all these friends and lovers
There is no one compares with you
And these memories lose their meaning
When I think of love as something new
Though I know I'll never lose affection
For people and things that went before
I know I'll often stop and think about them
In my life I love you more

Though I know I'll never lose affection
For people and things that went before
I know I'll often stop and think about them
In my life I love you more
In my life I love you more  

-- The Beatles, In My Life