Weekend in Madrid: A Photo Journal

Happy Monday. How was your weekend? We jumped on a flight to Madrid after work on Friday (and almost missed it - Friday afternoon traffic was so bad in central London!) and had the most amazing weekend there - even though the weather wasn't so amazing, which is unusual for the city.

We stayed at the beautiful AC Palacio Del Retiro hotel, which is situated directly across from the stunning Retiro Park. When we arrived, it was about 10:45 p.m. but we were starving! So we asked the hotel restaurant if the kitchen was still open, and I ordered a glass of Rioja, plus some jamon Iberico to get us started.

My parents couldn't get enough of the delicious Iberico ham when they visited Spain a couple of years ago. And because we hadn't technically had dinner yet (we were saving our appetites!), I also ordered the best Spanish tortilla (similar to an egg and potato omelette, if you haven't had one before) ever, plus some very flavorful hake served with grilled Mediterranean vegetables. We stumbled to our beautiful room a little drunk from the wine and cerveza and with our bellies full.

The next morning, I was so excited, I woke up early and sat with the guidebook in the hotel restaurant, eating churros for breakfast. We'd been told to visit the Mercado de San Miguel by several Madrid enthusiasts: it's a gourmet food market located in the city center with lots of fresh seafood, fruits and vegetables, regional beers and wine, plus lots and lots of jamon, of course!

Although it's only about a quarter of the size of London's Borough Market (another foodie's paradise), it still had rows and rows of delicious food to offer, and we already started choosing what we'd like to have for lunch! Since we were too full to buy anything there and then, we went off to visit the Palacio Real de Madrid (Royal Palace of Madrid) before returning to the mercado in the afternoon to take away a mini jamon baguette, vegetable paella, and some olive skewers (shown above) to enjoy back at the hotel.

By then, it had started to rain pretty hard, which was a shame because I can imagine how beautiful Madrid would be in the sun! We thought that it'd be a good idea to spend some time indoors, so we headed to the Palacio Real de Madrid, which is the official residence of the Spanish Royal Family (though it's now only used for official state functions). 

You weren't allowed to take pictures inside, but I can assure you that every room was an opulent display of power and wealth - truly spectacular. My favorite rooms were probably the King's "changing room", which had 3D (yes, 3D!) gilded wall-paper in intricate garden-inspired designs and the "porcelain" room, which John remarked was like "being in a teapot". It totally was! Though it was busy and tour groups were rushing past, I think I stood with my mouth open in the corner, staring up at the ceilings, for minutes on end. It's definitely worth a visit if you're ever in Madrid (especially if it's raining!).

After returning to the hotel for a brief nap (okay, actually, it was a luxurious, 2-hour nap!), we wanted to go to the Museo Nacional del Prado, Spain's most famous art museum. I read on the website that entry is free between 6-8 pm, so we ran outside with our umbrellas and got some food in Plaza Santa Ana before heading to the Prado. In our haste, however, we headed to the wrong museum! We accidentally went into El Museo de arte Thyssen-Bornemisza instead (they're very close to each other). After some confused chat with the information desk, we realized where we were, laughed, and headed back into the rain ... and then we saw the line for the Prado. I wish I'd taken a picture of it, but I was too busy dodging puddles while John ran ahead and tried to secure us a place in line. It was SO LONG. So long! I'd never seen a line that long, except for maybe the Crown Jewels exhibition at The Tower of London, where I waited for 30 minutes.

Luckily, the line moved quickly and we got in around 6:30 (yes, for free!), so we had a good hour and a half to enjoy at the museum, which I loved, by the way. The permanent collection is huge, of course, and they have some of the most famous paintings in the world by Goya, Hieronymus Bosch, Rubens, Titian, and more.

Afterward, we headed back to Plaza Santa Ana for more tapas at Lateral, a funky and modern restaurant that served up the most delicious fruit mojitos, sherry at the famous old-fashioned sherry bar, La Venencia, and some more tapas and dessert at another restaurant that I've unfortunately forgotten the name of now. Needless to say, I felt sick from overeating that night. But it was worth it!

The next morning, we woke up and the weather was still terrible. We couldn't decide whether to go to the Sunday flea market or Madrid's most famous bullring, The Plaza de Toros de Las Ventas. In the end, we settled on the latter, which I was really excited to see.

We took the self-guided audio tour (which was surprisingly good!) and learned all about the history of the building itself, as well as the bullfighting traditions and ceremonies. There would be a bullfight that evening, so locals were already lining up to buy their tickets.

I've never been in a bullring before, but even though the stands were completely empty, that moment we walked into the stadium was exhilarating. I have mixed feelings about the sport itself (since the bulls are killed) but I certainly found the artistic elements of the bullfighter's responsibilities and the ceremony surrounding the activity to be fascinating.

I'd been holding out hope for being able to do a spot of shopping in Madrid (naturally), but most of the shops were closed on a Sunday. Since I had a early flight that day, I really wanted to explore Retiro Park as well, so we did!

Just after this photo was taken (above), the sun peeked through the sky and we had 15-minutes or so of warmth! It was incredible. It showed a hint of what the park would look like in the sun, which was glorious.

It's definitely one of the most beautiful parks I've ever been to, and one that I'll remember forever. "It's the perfect place for a proposal!" I said to John, as we strolled down the tree-lined paths of the Paseo de las Estatuas (Statue Walk) and through the picturesque gardens. "It's a little too late for that," he replied drily. But anyway. It's the perfect place for a proposal.

Near the center of the park is the Palacio de Velazquez, which is now an art gallery with some beautiful exhibitions of Spanish artists. I took a particular shine to this swing and window installation below.

The high ceilings, white walls and floors, and generous amounts of natural light make the space really majestic to walk through. There was a quiet hush in that magnificent main room as well, which felt special. Ooh! That reminds me: one thing I loved about the Prado was that when it got a little too "noisy" with chatter in a room, the museum guards would shush people! Amazing!

Our last stop before I had to run and get my taxi to the airport back at the hotel was the Crystal Palace, allegedly inspired by the Crystal Palace in London.

So beautiful.

Thank you, Madrid, for showing me a wonderful time! Spanish hospitality is always awesome. Muchas gracias.

UK Mother's Day: Why I Love My Mother-in-Law

Since it's Mother's Day in the UK this Sunday, I thought I'd share with you some wonderful stories about my mother-in-law, Alison.

I've heard so many horror stories of overbearing, disapproving, high-maintenance, and downright dreadful mother-in-laws, so I know that I'm incredibly lucky to have Alison as my mine, because she is the sheer opposite of all these things: she is wonderful.

And if you ever met her, you'd think so too.

Aside from swapping handwritten letters, cards, texts, and emails carefully typed out on respective iPads (Alison is so much better at this than I am - she has more patience!), I'm grateful to have such a close relationship with Alison.

During a weekend visit to our flat last year, I begged her to stay for longer on Sunday and managed to convince her to take a (particularly challenging!) Vinyasa flow yoga class with me before having lunch and a quick browse at Primark prior to catching her train back to Leicester. I jumped up and down with excitement when she agreed, and John looked at us like we were crazy.

So to celebrate this UK Mother's Day, I'd like to share with you some of the nicest, loveliest things that Alison has done for me in the past nine years that I've known her:

She's thoughtful and considerate. The first time I ever visited Alison's house, I noticed all the thoughtful little things she did for me, even though we'd only met once before. For instance, she couldn't remember if I was vegetarian or not, so she made a vegetarian lasagne just in case - along with a huge pork roast. She didn't make any assumptions about our sleeping arrangements, so she made up the bed in the spare room for me, along with John's bed in his old bedroom.

She's taken care of me after my operations. Twice. There's nothing worse than being away from your family when you're sick. So when I was first advised that I needed an operation in the UK, I was scared and felt really anxious. Because John was away for work and couldn't come to the hospital with me, Alison took a train down and stayed with me right up to the minute I was wheeled into the operating room. Afterwards, she came into my room and wordlessly sat down in the corner with a book while I recovered from the anesthesia. I don't know how many hours had passed, but she was just there: present. Comforting. She then took care of me at our flat for a week - making sure I took my pain medication at the right times and doing all the shopping, cooking, and cleaning while I rested. Two years later, she did it all again, without any complaint.

She's seen me through some of my most difficult times - and stuck by me. One of my worst moments ever - both physically and emotionally - was when I had a terrible chest infection while I was studying for my Master's degree at the University of York. It had just been a hard year in general: I was broke, John was working in Paris, I hated my course, I had no friends, and I missed my family. As a result, I lost a lot of weight and wasn't eating very well. Alison came up to visit me one evening and we went to a lecture together. I was so sick, I had to leave the lecture mid-way to have a coughing fit - only to realize I had stepped into a stairwell with no exit! When she walked me back to my dorm later and I got into bed, she tucked me in, placed two folded £20 notes on my desk, and quietly slipped out. I didn't find the notes until the next day and my eyes pricked with tears, as I was so touched by her gesture.

She said she'd always be my friend, no matter what. One of the most powerful things that Alison has ever said to me was during that same visit to York. We were chatting over a cup of tea and I mentioned how difficult it was with John in Paris, and the fact that we hadn't been able to see each other very often. And I'll never forget this: she looked me in the eye and said, "No matter what happens with you and John, I'll always be your friend." I still get choked up thinking about it. That meant so much to me.

She asked Sir David Attenborough to send us a handwritten note for our wedding, and he did (!!!). At UK weddings, it's traditional to read aloud cards from guests who couldn't make it to the reception. During our Seattle wedding reception, this duty fell to Alison, who was the only representative of John's family attending. After reading out some lovely sentiments from John's extended family members, she handed me a crisp, cream envelope to open and read aloud to our guests. I stood, open-mouthed, as I realized that the letter was from Sir David Attenborough himself, sending us his best wishes! (There's a funny back story to this: years ago, when we were students at Oxford, I wrote David Attenborough a piece of fan mail, asking him to write us back. And he did! He wrote us the nicest, kindest letter ever. AND THEN JOHN LOST IT. We still have the envelope.)

She treats me no differently to the way she treats her own children. I think that Alison has always been acutely aware of how much I miss my family and how difficult it is for me to be away from my own mother, with whom I have a very close relationship. As a result, she has never treated me any differently than the way she treats John or Tom. And what I've appreciated the most is that she checks in on me periodically, to see how I'm doing - you know, as a person, as an individual, rather than simply as part of a couple.

I'm not sure I could ever be as nice, as kind, as generous, as thoughtful to my future son-in-law or daughter-in-law as Alison has been to me. But I know that I am just so grateful to know her, to have her in my life, and most of all, to call her my friend.

Dear Alison, I honor you, on this Mother's Day. Thank you for being a wonderful mother-in-law to me.

And thank you for being a wonderful friend.

(Re)Launch Party at Generator London

Last Friday, I was invited to attend the (re)launch party at Generator London, a hostel that's just a stone's throw away from Russell Square, off Tavistock Place. I know - it doesn't look like one, does it?

Designed originally as a police section house, the hostel was transformed in 2013 by Anwar Mekhayech from DesignAgency and ORBIT Architects and completely restyled to house a chic, modern space. Quite frankly, if you didn't know it was a hostel, you'd think it was a boutique hotel.

Even as I approach my early thirties, I have no shame in staying at hostels. Case in point: last summer, I spent the night before our wedding reception holed up at the Oxford YHA youth hostel because I was indignant about the hotel prices in Oxford City Centre (I put my parents up at The Old Parsonage, don't worry). We rented towels (ever-so-slight ick factor there, but I suppose it's no different than using towels at a hotel) and I had to shower in my flip-flops! I was jolted awake at 3:00 a.m. by the sweet, sweet sounds of a drunken domestic argument in the early hours of the morning near the kebab truck after late-night revelers spilled out of the nearby club - all a very far cry from the swish, slick, and very cool new re-design of Generator London.

When we arrived around 7:30, the party wasn't in full swing yet, but drinks were already flowing and the music was amazing. We hung out a the bar, used the obligatory free photo booth, and peeked into the different rooms, which apparently will be host to events, art collaborations, and shows throughout the hostel's opening.

It was clear that everyone there was excited to explore the newly redesigned space, and there are plenty of separate but unique spaces to just hang out in, which is perfect if you're traveling with a group of friends. Equally, there are some terrific little spots to just do your own thing in if you're traveling solo as well. The eating area (pictured above) is especially good, as the design lends itself to many cozy "pockets" so you don't feel like you're just sitting in a huge, impersonal cafeteria. Food that night was provided by F.A.T., who whipped up some spectacular fusion tacos and though I was exhausted from work, I just wanted to stay and enjoy myself!

 

And although I didn't get to see a room up-close-and-personal, they look pretty damn cool judging from the photos on the Generator website. Of course, in true hostel style, they offer dorm rooms with bunk beds (beds from £12 per person) and private rooms as well (from £24.50 per person). But the bright accents, wood floors, and clean, white beds make the days of bed-bug infested hostel stays and scratchy, of-dubious-provenance blankets (I refused to pull mine up under my chin at the YHA) seem another world away. 

Though Airbnb is slowly taking over the world (more of my friends have opted for an Airbnb stay versus a hotel room when traveling recently, for example), it's clear that this redesign of Generator London signifies a new transformation for hostels - but will others follow its lead? 

Forget staying as a budget backpacker or starving student - I'd be equally happy to hang out here on a Friday night if I was just passing by.

Photos all courtesy of Generator London. For more information on how to book a stay, visit their website here.

My Happy Place: Blenheim Palace

This weekend, we spent a luxurious overnight trip away to Woodstock, near Oxford, as part of my birthday present from Alison last year. I'll use any any excuse to take the Oxford Tube to Oxford because I think it's fun and it also brings back memories of taking it back and forth to London when I was studying abroad at Oxford. After sleeping in and having a really nice cooked breakfast at home, we hopped on at Victoria coach station on Saturday morning and arrived in Woodstock (after changing over to a local bus at Gloucester Green) by mid-afternoon.

I love Woodstock because it's the quintessential, small English town: you can walk the length of it in about 10 minutes and there are a number of pubs and tea rooms scattered throughout, plus a little post office on the main street. Of course, it's terribly touristy because it's also home to one of my favorite places in the world, Blenheim Palace.

As the residence to the dukes of Marlborough, Blenheim Palace is also known for its link to Sir Winston Churchill, as it was his birthplace and ancestral home. My dad is a huge anglophile (in case you wondered where I got it from!) and history buff, so during one of his first visits to the UK, I arranged for us to stay at a very sweet B&B called The Blenheim, which is just situated a few feet away from one of the palace gates! Coincidentally, the room we stayed in was called "Churchill", much to my dad's delight, and it's common for other hotels and pubs in the area to have busts of Churchill and other Churchill-related memorabilia decorating the rooms.

Although the palace itself is stunning (as you can see from the above photo - even against the backdrop of a cloudy day), it's the park and gardens that I'm most fond of. I've visited many country estates throughout England, Wales, and Scotland - but something about Blenheim is just so very special.

Spread over 2,000 acres, the landscaped park and gardens are open to the public (for an entrance fee) to enjoy - that means that you can walk on the grass, get up close to pheasants, swans, and other wildlife (like lamb and deer!), or bring a picnic to enjoy in the summer, overlooking the beautiful lakes.

I also love Blenheim Palace for nostalgic reasons: nine years ago, on my last day as a student at Oxford, John took me there because I'd never been. It was a beautiful, hot summer's day (which is rare in England!) and I remember thinking that it was the most amazing place I'd ever seen. We brought strawberries to eat in the park and spent a while getting lost in Marlborough's Maze, which is a garden maze (for kids, really) surrounded by beautifully landscaped gardens and flowers.

I remember being so happy but so sad that day, because I had no idea if I'd ever return to England - or if I'd even see John again. And yet, nine years later, here we are.

And for a totally silly reason, I love the mineral water that's sourced and bottled right on the Blenheim estate. I can't describe it, but it almost has a thick quality to it (in a good way) and the sparkling water just tastes so much better than any other sparkling water that I've ever tried. I insist on buying a bottle every time I'm there (took two home with me this weekend) and I'll never forget the time I gave a bottle to my dad, while he was sketching the palace. After excitedly explaining to him that it was the nicest water he'd ever try, I watched as he took the bottle from me, proceeded to down it in one go, then wordlessly handed the empty bottle to me and continued sketching. Oh, dads.

Anyway, if you ever get the chance, I'd highly recommend a visit to Blenheim Palace - especially on a sunny day. It's just so beautiful and such a joy to simply be there. It's one of my happy places.

Good Pub Grub: The De Beauvoir Arms

As I was enjoying my bavette steak topped with salsa verde and served with a side of dressed rocket salad and potatoes Lyonnaise on Friday, I took a sip of my wine and thought to myself, "How did pub food get so damn good?" When I first came to the UK 8 or 9 years ago, going to the pub meant ordering traditional, British comfort foods like chicken pies and bangers and mash - certainly none of the modern, almost experimental dishes that we get in our local pubs in London today. And while I know that the concept of "gastropubs" has been technically in existence since the early '90s, I swear that the food I've been eating at pubs on a Friday night is just getting better and better, every day.

We're lucky to live near a triangle of pubs on the Islington/Hackney border that surpass even the "gastro" mark and continually whip up mouthwatering dishes with original recipes that rival eating out at some of the nicest restaurants in our surrounding area. For example, the fish served at The Talbot (which impressed even my hard-to-impress parents) is bought fresh from Billingsgate Fish Market that day. John's Angus rib-eye steak on Friday was melt-in-the-mouth tender. The quality of ingredients used in these pubs is of the highest standard and the chefs cooking in the kitchens of these pubs - in my eyes - work with the same level of intensity as those who bark orders behind the doors of some of London's most popular or sought-after restaurants.

I never thought too much about it until my parents came to visit us last summer and we took them to two pubs for dinner on two separate occasions. They both ordered the fish option at The Talbot and something similar at The Hunter S., I think. And on both occasions, they were surprised by the quality of the food and how delicious it was. "Do all pubs serve this kind of food?" I remember my mom asking, as she tried a bite of my quinoa, pomegranate, and feta salad. Well, not all of them do, I remember thinking. But we're very lucky that the ones near us do.

Our local, The De Beauvoir Arms is no exception: walk in on any day of the night and you'll get a varied menu with a pretty wide range of options, inspired by Mediterranean flavors. Aside from the excellent rare bavette steak I had on Friday, another winter warmer that I loved recently was their roasted field mushrooms stuffed with thyme and lemon breadcrumbs on a canellini bean stew. Served piping hot, this was one of the most amazing plates of hearty goodness I've ever had the pleasure of enjoying on a cold not-quite-spring evening. They also do a mean slow roasted pork sandwich too.

Although I love to eat out (not that you couldn't tell ... ahem!), there's something so nice about not having to make an effort on a Friday night or Saturday afternoon: those moments when you're just feeling tired and worn out and want a proper, good meal, but don't want to dress up or go anywhere far. As an American, I never really "got" pub culture, if you know what I mean. But now I do, I think. There's something so simple and lovely about strolling to your local pub that's never more than a 10-minute walk away, plonking yourself down in a seat by the fireplace, ordering a drink at the bar, and having delicious food served to you in a relaxed, non-pretentious, effortless environment. There's also something incredibly nice about paying for your food and drink at the beginning of your meal. It means that you can stay for as long or as little as you'd like without feeling anxious or rushed.

Viva la pub grub.

Street Food Sunday @ The Sunday (Up)Market on Brick Lane

I'm a little embarrassed: my Instagram feed has been filled with food as of late, and it's no secret that I've been eating out a lot ... but spending less time at the gym. But I have good reason to, I swear! There's so much good food happening in London at the moment - you'd be stupid not to spend your weekends as a food tourist in this city.

Today was no exception as we headed to one of my favorite markets in London, the Sunday (Up)Market on Brick Lane - just a short distance from Spitalfields Market. Filled with handmade crafts, clothing, and food, this is the place to go if you want to spend your Sunday just chilling out and soaking up the atmosphere on Brick Lane. When I woke up late this morning, I had a craving for street food served up in foil containers, with a fork stabbed into it - and I knew that the Sunday (Up)Market would have just what I was looking for.

Having tried a sample of the Malaysian pancakes (being prepared in the photo above), John became quickly obsessed and ordered a "traditional" pancake, which consists of peanuts, creamed corn (yes, you read that correctly), and lashings of melted butter. The combination may sound bizarre, but together, the flavors were truly extraordinary and made for a very filling, but delicious dessert.

I went for the apple and cinnamon option, but quickly regretted it after sampling the black glutinous rice and coconut filling, which was even tastier. So greedy.

On Friday, I had a random craving for okonomiyaki, a Japanese savory pancake that contains a variety of different ingredients topped with a special, sweet soy sauce, mayonnaise, and seaweed seasoning - true comfort food. The word okonomi means "what you like" or "what you want", so every pancake can be made differently, according to your wishes. I last enjoyed a delicious okonomiyaki at a Japanese cafe in Hanoi, where they made it with dried shrimp and pork.

Today, I walked past a Japanese food stall preparing fresh okonomiyaki on the grill and couldn't help but do a double-take and pull out my wallet.

This variety contained shredded cabbage, sweet corn, and cheese. While it wasn't quite as wonderful as the one I had in Vietnam, it was still very tasty - especially when served hot on a paper plate. We sat on the curb with all the other (Up)Market shoppers and tried not to get our feet run over as bewildered drivers tried to navigate the congested road surrounding The Old Truman Brewery.

All in all, a delicious, food-filled, fun-filled weekend. Happy days.

Saturday Brunch @ The Good Egg Pop-Up

John and I had the most egg-cellent brunch at The Good Egg pop-up on Saturday, hosted by Cortado. A little bored by our usual brunch options, I signed up to Grub Club on Friday, which alerts you to all the pop-ups happening in your local area. I only needed to see the words, "breakfast burrito", before clicking on the "purchase" button, which, along with reserving my place at the pop-up, also pre-paid for our breakfasts (at £8 each).

It was a gorgeous, sunny day, and knowing that John was still jet-lagged from his week of bi-coastal travel in the US, I intentionally picked a location that was less than a 7-minute walk away from our flat. When we arrived to the restaurant, we were greeted by the super friendly staff and shown to our table. Though our seating was booked for 11 a.m., I avoided eating anything for breakfast so I could save space for their incredible-sounding menu - and I'm so glad I did.

John ordered the "Shakshuka": Cotswold Legbar eggs (with the sunniest, most bright orange yolk you could imagine!) baked in a smoky, spiced tomato and pepper sauce, topped with lemon yoghurt and toasted za'atar sourdough with British rare-breed Merguez sausages. If that sounds complicated, you only need to look at the dish pictured above, which screams perfection. The smoky stew was an absolute delight to dip the toasted sourdough bread into - I even stole John's plate at the end to mop up the remaining sauce!

For me, I chose the "Eggs Rothko", which consisted of challah bread (my favorite) with a hole cut for a runny egg, topped with a slice of honey-mustard ham and their secret recipe cheese sauce, all served with a side salad of dressed rocket and slow roasted tomatoes. It was rich, indulgent, but a total taste sensation.

After sampling each other's dishes and marvelling at how good they tasted, we asked for the bill and were presented with this adorable check, complete with two Haribo eggs, naturally:

At the moment The Good Egg has taken up residencies at Cortado in N1 and The Hangover Club in Hackney Wick. You can book via The Grub Club, or rock up on the day - booking ahead is recommended though.