When a photo says more than a thousand words:
This is what I’ve been living on the last 48 hours and as you can probably imagine I don’t feel like writing about bacon at the moment, which is supposed to have a gala display in the next – almost finished – post. Meanwhile I’m happy to take good advice for somebody who caught a stomach bug – besides grated apples, squished bananas, pretzel sticks and zwieback. *sigh*
For me, one of these days greatest food moments is to discover a fruit or vegetable I had no idea existed. I wasn’t lucky enough to spot some Pink Pearls, but on our recent trip to San Francisco, the below fruits were sold in front of the Ferry Building. They do have a cute name… you know what I’m talking about?
EDIT: Ahem, I think I belong to the minority of the people who haven’t come across Jujubes before, a lot of you obviously have! Anyone out there who has seen this “tastes-like-an-apple-date” in Germany?
Just when I thought the autumn sunshine couldn’t get any brighter and I happily decided to not yet dig out my heavy Winter clothes and my so beloved collection of colorful woolen hats, the piles of work on my desk are …well, piling up, what else. And so are my emails. Before I cut to the chase, let me assure you how much I love to receive emails, all kinds of emails. I do. Pictures from a newborn baby-girl (thank you, Sven), an update on a recent move (traveling again, Courtney?) or especially tempting recipes which will be moved to my to try-folder immediately (XOX, Claudia). But then, there are other mails. And I’m not talking about a regular business email or the you’ve-won-the-lottery (and worse) type spam.
First off, let me say that I’m sorry Chris you missed out on a great food experience, but we fully sympathize and understand why you chose not to be there. Chris, who are you anyway?
Even though our trip has undergone many, many revisions and the timing of when to be where had military grade accuracy, one date was rock solid. The French Laundry. As soon as we had decided to do it, we were confronted with the challenge of what the best reservation tactics would be. Californian friends and food bloggers told us to not set our expectations too high – it’s (still) pretty difficult to secure a table at America’s no.1 restaurant. Consulting Google brought different strategies to light, one of them, using Open Table, didn’t work for us. So I tried calling TFL directly, long, long distance. Got through within 10 minutes of speed-dialing, but was put on hold immediately – ahhh, darn, where’s my credit card? Five minutes went by – meanwhile I was holding tight onto my credit card – then 10 and 15. Had they forgotten about me? That’s when I heard a sudden click and somebody introduced herself as part of The French Laundry Reservation Service. Five minutes later a confirmation email had popped up in my Inbox – it was official, we were going to The French Laundry in September!
