You've Been Style Stalked

Is this you? Because I totes style stalked you last week. I stepped out behind you on High Holborn and couldn't resist snapping a photo of your very-well-put-together outfit.

It's not hard to experience outfit-envy in London - people tend to dress so much, dare I say, better and just, in general, smarter than where I'm from in the States. Case in point, the girl above. I'm not Yvan Rodic or Scott Schuman - I know she's wearing 50 shades of black, but, to me, they're all perfect shades of black: from her chic, patent loafers, to her ankle-skimming waxed skinnies (yes, I pay attention to that level of detail), to her salt-and-pepper tweed jacket and black leather handbag ... I was in love.

When I go back to Washington, my mom (I'm ashamed to admit) funds my massive shopping sprees, after which I spend about half an hour to forty-five minutes in my room, ripping out price tags and carefully storing each piece away in my suitcase for transportation back to London. She never gets to see me wear the clothes we so carefully pick out together, and that makes me sad (note: having an iPhone has changed this now, though - I try and take a picture of my work outfit, every day, so she can see the fruits of our collective labor).

So yeah. I style-stalk. No shame there.

The Taste of Memories: Chinese Bakeries

Approximately 2-3 times per year (sometimes more, sometimes less), my family makes the 3-hour drive up to Vancouver, B.C. to ... eat. Yes, if you haven't cottoned on already, food is a huge part of my life and was an even bigger part of my upbringing. We obsess about what we're going to eat, when, where, and, when in Vancouver, tend to make reservations for dinner at the lunch table. True story.

We may be frugal about other purchases in life, but not when it comes to food. My dad, for example, had no qualms about spending $154 on a geoduck dish (yes, one dish) at a recent dinner out in Richmond. And before we leave for the Washington State border, my mom makes sure to stop by the Chinese bakery in one of Richmond's many Chinese shopping malls to buy several bags (which must be ordered the day before) of raisin bread, which is just like the kind they make in Hong Kong.

While we were there this past Christmas, I snapped these pics to remind myself what sets Chinese bakeries apart from any other bakery in the "Western" world:

Chinese cakes are almost always topped with fresh fruit, and the sponge is lighter in texture and flavor in comparison to "Western" cakes, if you will. There's a photo of me at home on my first birthday, fork poised mid-air over a cake elaborately decorated with fresh strawberries and white frosting that my dad had purchased from a Chinese bakery in Seattle. Aside from looking absolutely delighted at so much fanfare and fuss, I note that my mother has dressed me to match the cake: in a frilly red and white dress.

Then there are the egg custard tarts (below, center), which were also a childhood favorite of mine:

They always remind me of my beloved grandpa (on my mother's side), who passed away a few years ago, because he used to order them for me whenever we went out for dim sum in San Francisco (where he and my grandma had a second home). I remember playing a rhyming game with him on our way in to town and making him laugh with a short limerick in Cantonese about taking the BART to eat "dan tart" (egg custard tart in Cantonese).

During this same trip to Vancouver, I squealed with joy when I discovered a Taiwanese candy shop selling Sugus, a soft, chewy candy reminiscent of Starbursts, which were ubiquitous to my childhood my trips to Hong Kong. My mom would keep them in her purse to reward me and my brother for our patience or good behavior during long car rides or visits with relatives that dragged on a bit longer than a child of five could usually bear.

So, I - like so many others - associate food (and in particular, cakes and sweets), with terrific childhood memories. These tastes and flavors help me transcend continents and time, to a place where all I knew and felt was happiness and love.

London Short Film Festival

If you live in London, I highly recommend subscribing to Londonist's email newsletter - it's the only email circular that I look forward to receiving every day. Full of ideas of what to do, where, on the cheap (often free), Londonist has saved me several times when I've woken up in a total panic on Saturday morning, realizing I have absolutely nothing on my agenda and will probably waste away my weekend by aimlessly roaming my local area, desperately searching for a play or concert I kind-of-don't-really-actually-want-to-go-to or worst yet: vegging out in front of the TV (that's what being sick is for).

Anyway, thanks to Londonist, I discovered that the London Short Film Festival is currently on (January 4th-13th) and I was certain that there'd be something knocking around in Dalston. Sure enough, I slept in just in time for New Shorts #3: Romance at the Rio, a series of seven films with, you guessed it, a romantic theme, being shown at Rio Cinema, one of my favorite places in Dalston (and a convenient 15-minute walk for me). Intrigued, I grabbed tickets and we headed up there after a lazy lunch at home.

I'm so glad I booked, because the hipsters of Dalston and surrounding area turned up in abundance to this portion of the film festival, making it a completely full house. After a short welcome from Philip Ilson, the festival director, and shoutouts to some of the directors of the films who were in the audience, the show started.

You can learn more about each individual film here, but in short, I really enjoyed the afternoon. Highlights for me included Simon Warwick Green's Albatross: A Love Story, an eccentric look at very common anxieties we come across in life; Andrew Morris & Rob Silva's The Beyond, which quite cleverly accomplished that sought-after "twist in the story" within a very limited period of time (and succeeded in making me tear up, as well); plus Joseph Spray's The Eternal Not, a hilarious, but slightly sinister short based on Shakespeare's All's Well That Ends Well. All three films had terrific acting and witty, superb dialogue and direction. This wasn't, unfortunately, true of all the shorts that were shown, but that's part of the fun of seeing something on this shorter, bite-sized scale - you never know what to expect.

Aubaine, Mayfair

Last night, John and I thought we deserved an end-of-the-short-week treat (well, going back to work in January is supremely painful), so he booked us a table at Aubaine Mayfair, one of seven restaurants in this delightfully French franchise that has locations in other similarly well-kept areas such as Kensington, Hampstead and Wimbledon.

This particular location is situated a stone's throw away from Dover Street Market and Mahiki, making it somewhat desirable for those who are into celeb-spotting, though the restaurant was curiously quiet (read: empty) for a Friday night. Then again, it was only the 4th of January and the other regular patrons were probably still enjoying their Christmas cruises around St. Barts etc.

Because we booked online, we were offered the option of the set menu, which consisted of the choice of three soups as the starter and any main course from the ala carte menu - you simply pay the price of the main only. Inspired by this, John chose the mushroom and truffle oil veloute, while I had the Jerusalem artichoke soup. Both were very similar in appearance, but were nevertheless delicious, steamy bowls of nourishment - lifting us out of our post-holiday blues straightaway. And I must say, even though I participate in bread strikes as long as I can stand it, even I couldn't keep away from the ridiculously good, very authentically French bread.

For our mains, John had the lobster spaghetti and I went for moules frites, as the last time I had the dish was atop Mont Saint-Michel, which was several, several years ago. I was surprised that both dishes were almost American-portion sized and neither of us could finish ours. Two glasses of sauvignon blanc, two macarons (made in-house) and an espresso later, our total bill came to £70 - a reminder to me that set menus are appealing, just as long as you don't order any extras.

The service at Aubaine is really faultless, though I wonder if this would have been different had the restaurant been full. What I love most about it is its interior: full of pale greys and whites, offset with a splash of bright pink and glassware filled to the brim with pastel macarons and meringues. I was thinking it's the perfect place to have a girly lunch or coffee, had it not been for the floor to ceiling back-lit shelves replete with magnums of champagne, wine and other serious-looking bottles that would also make it a sophisticated date-night/business meeting choice.

The "Aisles" of Wonder: The Target Food Aisles

Today I had a business lunch with an Australian who told me, in no uncertain terms, that she found American food "repulsive". She said she had recently been traveling down South through Memphis and New Orleans and wanted yoghurt plus fresh fruit for breakfast, but was offered fried chicken instead.

(I don't know about you, but that sounds like a damn good breakfast.)

But you know, I get it. Sometimes you want to detox and having a fried chicken wing at 8:00 just isn't that appealing. Maybe you need a side of kale. Or something. However, to label American food - in general - as "repulsive"? Really? I SO BEG TO DIFFER.

See Exhibit A:

The Goldfish Cracker display at Target. BOOM. These little buddies are anything but repulsive. They're cute. Cute enough to take home. In fact, you could even have them for breakfast, sprinkled on top of yogurt, with a side of fresh fruit - if you wanted to. There are goldfish for all sorts of tastes and moods; sweet and savory. I picked up a pack of Vanilla Cupcake Goldfish, but am secretly intrigued by the Space Goldfish too.

Exhibit B:

Then there were the Cinnamon Toast Crunch MUFFINS. The Reese's Puffs MUFFINS. Imagine what "Bring 'n Bake" Fridays in the UK workplace would be like if these babies were available there. JUST IMAGINE. Yes, I know, I could make these from scratch too. BUT THEY'RE IN A BOX. That's all I'm saying.

Exhibit C:

I'm lucky I was by myself when I saw this because I actually let out a little yelp. OF JOY, THAT IS. Who knew macaroni and cheese came in so many varieties? And yes, I had macaroni and cheese for breakfast two days in a row. It was just what I craved. I brought two boxes back to London. John doesn't eat cheese, so I plan to eat this when he's away, accompanied by the not-so-dulcet tones of the Kardashians on the sole British television channel that delivers me my fix of trashy American reality TV shows (please don't tell my dad, who spent a fortune on my private college education).

When I encounter the food aisle at Target, I swoon. I want to lie down on the linoleum tiles and make snow angels on the shop floor. I want to press my face up to the glass refrigerator doors and shower myself with Annie's Mac 'N Cheese pasta shapes. In short, I am happy - surrounded by so much frozen food, junk food, processed food, and choice. I am anything but repulsed.

I hope my Australian colleague does not catch sight of Denny's Hobbit-themed menu, which is the subject of my post below. She might throw up.

Denny's Unveils Its Hobbit-themed Menu

I know, I just announced this as if Prada had announced a new diffusion line.

But anyway.

If you've been following Angloyankophile since The Beginning, you'll also know that I always make a stop at Denny's when I'm back in the States. At this point, I feel that it's very important to point out to my British readers that Denny's is a chain of diners that is about a step up from McDonald's. There isn't really anything special about it (truckers, watery coffee, bad perms - get the idea?) except for the fact that I'm slightly obsessed with their French Toast Slam: two pieces of cinnamon French Toast, two eggs (cooked over-easy, for me), two slices of bacon, and two breakfast sausage links. My stomach's grumbling now just thinking about it.

On Christmas Eve, I made my brother have breakfast with me at Denny's and was greeted with this menu:

And this:

HA! Having just seen The Hobbit earlier that week, I found this to be delightfully cheesy, embarrassing, and fun all at the same time (for the record, Justin ordered the Shire Sausage Skillet, which was ah-mazing. I don't want to actively encourage anyone to go to Denny's, but ...). I love how this happened in the States but would never, ever, in a million years, happen in the UK. I mean ... Gandalf's Gobble Melt? I die.

The best part was overhearing this exchange at the table behind us:

Waitress: "What can I get for you today?"

Man (after much thought and deliberation): "Well, I guess I'll do the Hobbit thing. I'll have the Shire Sausage Skillet."

The next best part was the fact that Justin received The Hobbit trading cards, since he ordered off of the Hobbit menu. Score.

The "Hobbit thing", indeed.

New Year's Resolutions

What are your New Year's resolutions? Here are mine:

1. Make my bed every day - yep, that's right. I never make my bed. Considering the fact that it consists of a comforter and four pillows, I'm not sure why it's so difficult to do every morning as soon as I wake up. Hold on ... I've got to go do it ... (Note: I mentioned this resolution to John and he looked up from his iPad mini long enough to say, "Wasn't that your resolution last year?" How encouraging.)

2. Read more (good) books - while I was back in the US for two weeks over Christmas, I finished reading three books, including two that I loved (Sherman Alexie's newest, Blasphemy, and Maria Semple's Where'd You Go, Bernadette?, which I highly, highly recommend but isn't available in the UK yet) and one that I didn't really (Kim Sunee's Trail of Crumbs). Curling up on the couch for an hour or two with absolutely no distractions except for the beautiful pink sky (above), I relished in the delight and joy reading good books affords.

3. Be open to making new friends - when I first moved to the UK, and even in the years that followed, I went on several friend-dates and met a lot of new people. Sometimes we clicked, sometimes we didn't, but it was a terrific feeling to expand my friendship circle and establish myself in a new city. These days, I'm very fortunate to have a core group of close friends here in London (and Edinburgh!) but find myself reluctant to meet new people, which is a terrible attitude to have. Friends are so important, and I definitely hope to form new friendships in 2013.

4. Let go - anyone who knows me knows that I over-worry, over-prepare, and just over-freakout in general. I'd love to take the same, calm, forgiving approach I have on the yoga mat, apply it to daily life, and not get into such a big huff over the little (or even big) things.

And finally ...

5. Blog more - when I first started Angloyankophile, I tried to post every single day. In 2010, I blogged 249 times, but this dropped to 68 in 2011 and 54 in 2012. It wasn't for the lack of interesting things happening in my life (for example, I didn't even blog about my amazing experience at the Olympics! Or Thailand!), but rather that I just became ... a little lazy. Looking back, blogging every day  with a full time job, active social life and after-work activities (ahem, yoga and orchestra rehearsals) might not have been a feasible goal, but I did write and share a lot - and got a lot back in return. I love reading the nice (and sometimes, even the not-so-nice) comments I receive and finding readers with similar, shared experiences. When I don't write as often, my life feels jumbled and out-of-sync. So I'm going to try harder. Thank you so much for reading!

Here's to a new year.