Friends + Humble Grape Wine + Cheese = A Winning Combination

I love wine. Slight problem: I'm kind of allergic to it. Not in a "oh, you're such a lightweight!" kind of way, but in a oh-my-goodness-I've-had-one-sip-and-I'm-sloshed-and-turning-red-and-oh-look-I'm-completely-hungover-now kind of way. That way. 

So, I can't really drink on my own. Or finish a drink on my own. Like, ever. Luckily, my friends' arrivals last week meant that I had an excuse to break out the good stuff from Humble Grape - an indie, boutique wine merchant in London that's on a mission to make wine "socially inclusive and approachable by anyone". 

Which is funny, because coincidentally, my first landlord in London (whom I adored, and also lived with) was a sommelier at one of London's top restaurants. And boy, did he know a LOT about wine!

Due to my, erm, inconvenient wine allergy, his explanations were kind of lost on me, though he let me sample a lot of delicious (not to mention, insanely expensive!) wines and he also passionately believed that good wine should be accessible to all - and that, as long as you liked it, it was good.

John orders wine with confidence (and he always chooses the best ones!) but insists he doesn't really know what he's doing. I tend to go for what I know I like (practically any Rioja, Brunello di Montalcino, and on occasion, a Pinot Grigio), so I love trying new recommendations, like the bottles that Humble Grape selected for me:  Galfano Nero d'Avola, 2011, Sicily and a First Drop Mother's Milk Shiraz, 2012, Barossa Valley, Australia. With a carefully curated selection of wine imported from 44 vineyards across 7 countries (!!!), Humble Grape a pretty special little place - somewhere I'd turn to when I'm next in a dinner party oh-what-should-I-bring rut, rather than a desperate grab-and-go from my local Tesco. Not that I do that. Sort of.

Before we unscrewed the cork to the Galfano Nero d'Avola, however, my friends and I collected "supplies" from Borough Market i.e. meats, cheese, and olives (duh!).

 

Borough Market is one of my favorite places to explore in London: the sights, the smells, the sounds! I can never leave without at least sampling three different kinds of cheeses and walking away with jamon Iberico that cost more than my weekly lunch allowance - fact.

After some hilarious banter with stall holders (Deborah: "Oh wait, let me pay, you guys! I have SO MUCH CASH!" Cashier: "Great! That will be five million pounds, please.") we walked away with links of saucisson from Une Normande a Londres, a hunk of mortadella (my favorite!), and two delicious, garlicky pots of olives from Borough Olives, and two types of cheese. 

It was kind of an amazing spread (it also gave me an excuse to use our new Laguiole cheese knives, plus the gorgeous charcuterie board Kara gave us!).

We held a mini wine-tasting party at our flat, which was so much fun. We kind of just huddled around in the kitchen instead of heading to the dining room - I forgot how social nibbling and sipping wine in a kitchen can be!

The first wine we tried was a 2011 Galfano Nero d'Avola - a beautiful, fruity (think: cherries) red wine from Sicily, where John and I had visited last year. We fell in love with the cuisine and wine while we were there, and this particular Nero d'Avola (which is Sicily's most important grape variety, according to Humble Grape!) went really well with the saucisson and olives.

I'll admit: I was a little intimidated by the tongue-in-cheek name and comic-strip label of the second wine ... 2012 First Drop Mother's Milk Shiraz from Barossa Valley, Australia (apparently, the winemaker behind Mother's Milk, Matt, was about to join the army when he broke his wrist and decided to make wine instead. As you do.).

But ohmygoodness, it was SO GOOD.

Super full-bodied, smoky, and powerful (plus, it has a hilarious tasting note on Humble Grape: "a hint of wombat rolled in allspice"). Really easy to drink and it went like a dream with the cheese we bought. Most of us liked the Nero d'Avola, but we all loved the Mother's Milk Shiraz.

I had a few too many slurps of this delicious red and ... yup, ended up drunkenly stumbling to our local pizza hangout, where afterwards, we decided to walk home while balancing pizza boxes on our heads - just to see who would last the longest. No joke. 

Such a fun evening (though I can barely remember it). Just kidding. (Not really.)

Our delicious wines were generously provided by Humble Grape, whose mission and ethos I love! Check out their wines and wine-tasting events here. All opinions are my own.

Expat Talk: When Best Friends Come to Visit

I'm not even sure where to begin.

Yesterday, before my friends left, the sun was out: consistent and strong. This morning, they were gone: the rain started and just wouldn't stop. Last night, I returned home to an empty flat, though it'd just been filled with side-splitting laughter and crowded (though tidy!) with suitcases and new purchases the day before.

After my parents' first visit to London, I spent an hour scouring the flat after they left for evidence of their stay - a crumpled receipt, a forgotten toiletry, a misplaced charger, perhaps ... anything tangible enough to trigger the memory of their presence.

And that's what I did last night: I scoured the flat in the same way, wanting to preserve the memory of laughter, of joy, of friendship. Of course, there are always photos; a journal I kept of all our favorite (and funniest) moments; and memories of the time spent at the end of each day "airdropping" photos between iPhones. But the days passed like a blur, and all I have are the photos to remind me that it all really did happen - that my friends (including my first-year college roommate!) travelled from three corners of the US (San Diego, Houston, and Madison) for a reunion in London.

The Friday after they arrived, we had coffees and arepas at one of my favorite local haunts, Arepa & Co., on the canal in Haggerston, before heading to Buckingham Palace. Can I just tell you how refreshing it is to see London through a visitor's eyes? I can't remember the last time I walked down The Mall.

It didn't take long for us to find ourselves in fits of laughter and I, snapping a photo at just the right time, caught two of my friends bent over double in hysterics, with the other gesturing behind her in a who-are-these-people stare. It quickly became "The Photo" of our time together.

From there, we headed to Fortnum & Mason (my spiritual home!), where we indulged in some retail therapy (Kara bought a gorgeous Smythson journal) and I ogled handbags and bracelets that were much too far out of my price range.

(Aren't these Halcyon Days bracelets beautiful? I think I need to start my collection ...)

I fell in love with this beautiful biscuit tin/money box and ... when my back was turned ... (which seems to be a reoccuring trend!) it was purchased for me.

We finished with afternoon tea and a bottle of prosecco at The Criterion, as we re-hashed the funny moments of the hours before and reminisced about the last time we saw each other, which was at my wedding reception in Seattle two years ago.

Seeing these kinds of friends again - these "best" friends - is like saying, "So, anyway ..." Everything in-between those moments when we're not together is just a breath, a pause. And although I have wonderful, dear, close friends in London, I just miss those friends who know me. Like, really know me.

I miss having friends nearby who make me feel like nothing else in the world matters - like we have a secret that only we're in on.

Don't you?

#NoFilter: Amsterdam

Hi, my name is Jaime, and I'm an Instagram addict.

From classic standbys like Amaro or Valencia, to the newer filters, such as Crema or Ludwig, I can't help adding that vintage tinge to my photos before clicking "Share". A few months ago, I graduated to using apps like VSCOcam, which provide more subtle filters - you know, filters that look just a little bit more professional and less like you just pressed a few buttons on your phone. More recently, I've stopped using pre-set filters all together, opting for making slight, deliberate adjustments to the brightness, contrast, saturation, and temperature of a color - I think of it as lazy Photoshop/Lightroom for amateurs.

But my addiction to filters runs deep: I love it when my photos look just that much brighter and vibrant. Sure, the trees in Sri Lanka were lush enough without any help, but with a tiny little boost to the saturation, the verdant palm leaves just popped that much more against the blue sky. Uploading photos without any filters or touch-ups makes me feel insecure: naked and exposed. But how often have you scrolled through your Instagram feed, only to find images that had been filtered to within an inch of their lives? Too often (and I'm guilty of this myself!).

Every year, London City Airport runs the #NoFilter project: a campaign that encourages travellers to "get back to the root of photography, celebrating the fact that photos don't need to be Instagrammed to show how beautiful a city is." And as a bit of added fun, Duncan Rhodes, editor of Urban Travel Blog, will be judging all the posts and selecting a winner on May 16th.

This year's focus is on Amsterdam: the city of gorgeous, color-popping tulips in Spring, pretty, boutique- and gallery-lined streets, and - of course - those unmistakable canals and narrow boats.

When we visited Amsterdam last year, we had amazing weather: it was sunny and bright the whole time, which is key to taking good photographs without a filter! Unless you're taking night shots with a tripod and a brilliant camera, having good light is a must when taking photographs - whether it's an indoor shot of a product or an outdoor snap of the landscape. The sun does wonders to make colors come alive, and you can play with showing more sky if it's bright blue, or water if it looks particularly turquoise and clear.

The photos that I've featured in this post were all taken on ... my iPhone 5. I think that camera-phone photos are becoming more and more widely accepted these days; a while ago, I was asked to contribute a photograph to a magazine and I felt really nervous about it because I'd taken the photo on my iPhone, instead of using John's Canon DSLR, and the magazine was really particular about the resolution and size of the photograph. When I wrote to the editor of the magazine admitting to this, she quashed my worries instantly, saying, "I wouldn't be surprised if the majority of the images I received were taken on iPhones!"

Looking at these photos now, I'd be lying if I told you I'm 100% comfortable with them. And yet, at the same time, there's a realness to them that I haven't seen for a long time - both in my own photography and that of the photography I regularly see on Instagram and even magazines. In fact, I can't think of a photo I've seen recently that hadn't been retouched or had a filter applied.

It's difficult to remember that life isn't one perfect, Instagram-filtered square. When I look back to these #nofilter shots of Amsterdam, I remember that this is exactly what it looked like: the sky wasn't any bluer, the wisteria wasn't a brighter or deeper purple, and the trees were that same, lovely, mossy green. Looking at these photos, I remember how happy I felt - ice cream in hand - strolling along the canals and tying my jacket around my waist because it was too hot to wear one. I remember the sound of the canal boats politely maneuvering and navigating around each other; the smell of the fuel from the boats rising up from the water.

And, of course, Amsterdam is a photographer's dream! The perfect subjects are around every corner. I suppose another difficult aspect of not using a filter is ensuring that your photos feature a lot of bright colors. For example, the photo above with the bridge isn't one of my best - the grey concrete and brown water don't offer much interest, though the bikes do. In contrast, the first photo I've included is more interesting - not only because of the depth of perspective, but also because of the color from the trees and boats that line the canal. Poorly composed shots (like the one above) can hide behind filters. But take the time to consider the set-up of your photo, and you're less likely to need one. 

What I loved most about our trip to Amsterdam last Easter was the fact that everyone was out - in contrast to my first visit (when it was cold, wet, and dreary), doors were flung wide open, families were sitting in windows reading together, and people swung their legs along the edge of the canal, chatting away the afternoons. Cyclists whizzed by and friends picnic-ed in the parks. We had such a fantastic time, I didn't want to leave. Amsterdam is bite-sized compared to London; it's nice to experience a city's that on a smaller, more manageable scale, yet one that retains so much interest and culture.

So, next time you upload a photo to Instagram, think about whether or not you really need a filter ... often, they can detract rather than enhance! I know, I know ... easier said than done.

Do you find yourself overusing filters? What apps or programs do you use before editing your photos, if any?

This post was written in association with London City Airport. You can read more about the #NoFilter project here! Posts will be judged by Duncan Rhodes of Urban Travel Blog, and a winner will be announced during the week of May 18th.

The Best Thing Ever.

You guys.

I am so excited.

(!!!)

Tomorrow morning, I'll be getting on the tube, going to Heathrow, and picking up not one, not two, but three of my best friends from the airport for a (nearly!) week-long stay in London. I couldn't wait to open my eyes this morning, just so I could text them to say, "SEE YOU TOMORROW!"

It's been two years since we've seen each other; they're flying in from San Diego, Houston, and Madison.

It's kind of a big deal.

So, this means that I'll be taking a little break from blogging, and I'll probably be back the week after next. (And I'll probably need major cheering up.)

Until then, you can follow our adventures on Instagram (and there will be a lot of fun times planned! I even worked in nap times into each day of the itinerary, duh).

xo

Practicing Stillness with JING Tea

The other day, I had a terrifying thought: I wasn't sure I could blog anymore.

Because blogging isn't just about writing: it's about meeting people, shaking hands, sending tweets, posting comments, editing photos, composing emails, sourcing post ideas, reading other blogs, and, essentially, always being distracted.

It's busy. It's noisy. And I love it. But every once in a while, I think, "I haven't posted anything today." And instead of shrugging my shoulders and moving on, I feel a rising panic. I think to myself: "Will I be forgotten? Am I still relevant?"

My social calendar is perpetually full with meet-ups and events and blog post deadlines. I can't seem to eat out lately without thinking whether or not the dish that's just been placed in front of me needs to be photographed. Yesterday, I literally couldn't walk to my friend's daughter's first birthday without stopping to take photos of wisteria creeping over the doorway of a beautiful house or of a cherry blossom tree that had just begun to shed its petals like pink snow.

Somehow, along the way, I've managed to stop appreciating life for what it is; rather than how it would look as an Instagram post.

So, as soon as John kissed me goodbye as he headed out the door for a work trip this weekend, I gave myself a reality check. I turned off my phone, turned off my music, and sat down ... to make some tea.

Not your usual, boil-the-water-dump-a-tea-bag-into-a-mug-add-milk-to-taste kind of tea, but rather, JING tea.

There's almost a meditative quality that comes along with making a cup of JING tea in their trademark, glass Tea Infuser Mug; I love the ceremony of it. I understand why the company's trademark is, "The definitive tea experience." Because - quite simply - it is.

Watching the sparkling sands of the JING Tea Timer slip through the hourglass as my tea infuses and brews? An experience. Holding the timer up to my ear so I can listen to the barely-audible rush of the sand slip through? An experience.

A quieting, calming, grounding experience. In a world of noise and distraction, this is both a treat - and a wake-up call.

Now, I'm a green-tea sipper: always have been, always will be. I grew up in a household that only drank the best ti kun yin (also known as "Iron Buddha") and oolong tea.

When I inhale the scent of JING's Jasmine Silver Needle, it smells like home: a beautifully fragrant, scent that rises as the tea brews. A gorgeous tea to enjoy after lunch, dinner, or after a soul-cleansing yoga class.

The Organic Jade Sword green tea has quite a different scent: lighter, more subtle, and delicate. It's described by JING as being, "clean rounded, full and grassy, with palate refreshing finish." Picked from the Jinshan Tea Garden in the Zhejiang Province of China, smelling these tea leaves again instils a pang of familiarity; that moment I walk into a Chinese tea shop in Hong Kong or Vancouver B.C., with their rows and rows of tea tins, sealed shut for freshness and often requiring a screwdriver (or a firm hand) to lift the lid.

I've been in love with JING's glassware for quite some time now. Ever since John and I tried JING for the first time in a little cafe years ago, we wanted to buy a set of the Tea Tasting Cups (they're glass! They hold hot liquid! But they don't burn your hands! Mind blown!), but ended up buying a set for his brother's birthday instead.

Now that I own the Tea Infuser Mug, I'm thinking of getting one for my dad too, so that he can enjoy his loose-leaf tea in this beautiful glassware. Befitting for an architect who appreciates the beauty of good design, don't you think?

I think I'm going to make JING tea a part of my Sunday afternoon ritual - a reminder to stay calm, still, and grounded despite the busy week ahead. Sometimes, it's so nice to stop and (literally) smell the roses.

What about you? Do you have any rituals or ways to practice stillness in a world that seems to be perpetually rushing by?

My JING Tea Timer, Tea Infuser Mug, Organic Jade Sword Tea, and Jasmine Silver Needle Tea were all generously provided by JING Tea, a company whose tea (and glassware!) I love. You can purchase your own JING tea and glassware here.

So Nice, I Tried It Twice: Jar Kitchen, Covent Garden

I'm used to seeing restaurants like Jar Kitchen in Dalston and lesser-known-streets of North London - not a stone's throw away from my office in Covent Garden. No, Covent Garden is reserved for chains, popular pop-ups, and Michelin-starred celebrity haunts - not small, unassuming, new restaurants serving delicious, beautifully done, British cuisine at a reasonable price. When I think of the Covent Garden food scene, I think of conformity (yes, even those new restaurants that seem to be every Instagrammer's dream these days), but I think Jar Kitchen stands out from the crowd.

The funny thing is, I've watched this restaurant be built from the ground up; from when the original business was torn down (I can't remember what occupied it before, despite walking down Drury Lane nearly every day, it was that miss-able) to when they painted the interiors a dark grey and hammered in the wood countertops.

Being the skeptic I was, I walked past the new establishment without giving it a second glance, until my friend Erin suggested that we meet there for dinner.

It's a small restaurant: the upstairs section probably seats five or six tables at a push, and I think there might be seating downstairs as well. At the same time, it's cozy and intimate - a great place to catch up and chat about all the things you've missed since you've last seen each other.

Service is friendly but not overbearingly so ... and the big plus for me? There's a pre-theatre menu of 2 courses for £15 or 3 courses for £18. In Central London, and at restaurants of this caliber, that's almost unheard of, so we took advantage of this (since we were eating early!) and ordered two courses, plus a couple of sides as well (their triple-cooked fries are oh-my-goodness delicious: perfectly crunchy).

If you haven't guessed already, the big theme here is ... jars. Of every shape and size. The restaurant has manged to repurpose jars into cups, candle holders, lights, vases ... so if you have a jar phobia, maybe best to avoid.

But if you love good food, well then, step right up. Erin and I both ordered the Walter Rose pork belly, served atop a bed of peas, lentils, turnips, scratching and a hazelnut crumble. The pork belly was tender and succulent, and the peas and lentils were delicious. The pork scratchings and hazelnut crumble gave the dish a good crunch; a bit of excitement on an otherwise often overdone (no pun intended!) menu option.

Speaking of the menu, it's small, but excellently curated. It's a restaurant that clearly knows what it does well, and sticks to it - I admire that.

When it came to choosing our desserts, I immediately went for the chocolate ganache with banana ice cream (I think I just saw "banana ice cream" and my eyes turned to hearts, just like the emoji) and Erin let me try some of her warm cinnamon and sugar dusted donuts, which were divine.

A few days later, John and I were on our way to the Royal Opera House (see previous post!) and, upon trying to decide where to have a quick dinner, dropped into Jar Kitchen for the second (me) and first (John) time.

I'm so unoriginal, I went for the pork belly again (which was even better the second time around), but finished with the cinnamon donuts instead. John really enjoyed his first course of chicken liver parfait, fig and onion jam and toasted raisin bread, but saved most of his praise for his main of mixed grain salad with roasted heirloom carrots, JK yoghurt, molasses, orange and herbs (which I'll admit I dipped my fork into too).

As the seasons change, I look forward to seeing what Jar Kitchen comes up with next on their inventive, unique menu. And if you're in the neighborhood, I suggest you give it a try.

The Prettiest View From Above: The Royal Opera House

Confession: the Royal Opera House used to be my shortcut to the gym in Covent Garden. It was the shortest route between my office and my 6 pm yoga class ... and I loved seeing the anxious faces of opera- and ballet-goers lining up for returned tickets and the buzz before an evening's performance. It felt sacrilegious, sure, but I figured I wasn't doing any harm by walking through the revolving doors, straight through the lobby into another set of revolving doors.

Last time I was at the ROH, my friend Jodi had somehow magically wangled 4th row (FOURTH ROW - as in, you can see the dancers' expressions) tickets to Sleeping Beauty for my birthday. And the time before that, I enjoyed Verdi from a private box, as my friends had a spare ticket - which had been given to them as a wedding present.

This time, we were there to see the ballet La Fille Mal Gardée, which John had chosen, as Alison had given vouchers to him for his birthday earlier in the year. But before we took our seats, we had just enough time to sip a glass of champagne and enjoy the spectacular view from the observation deck above. Isn't it beautiful? Those windows - especially when sunlight's streaming in - are just stunning.

And the view outside is just as incredible:

I love how you can just about make out the upper half of the London Eye across the rooftops, and see the Union Jack flags flying proud and high (p.s. the restaurant you see there is Brasserie Blanc, which is a great little place to meet friends from out-of-town for dinner!).

By the time we left the performance (which was fantastic, by the way - a fun, light-hearted, and entertaining ballet with wonderful costume and set design, plus pretty, classical choreography), the streets had emptied and there was a slight chill in the air. But for that quick moment we had stepped outside to admire the scene below, I remembered what makes this city so unique and beautiful.

Have you been to the Royal Opera House for a performance, or for dinner or afternoon tea? What did you think? It's one of my favorite places in London. I'd love to go back for afternoon tea when my friends arrive next week.