Category Archives: Travel

Baking Food Travel

Gluten-Free Banana Chocolate Muffins

I don’t know about you, but I’m pining for summer. We had a lovely, temperate summer here in San Diego and have been suffering through a heat wave for the past couple of weeks. Suffering, I say! Because we San Diegans cannot stand temperature fluctuations greater than +/- 3 degrees.

How was summer for you? It was my first summer in my new life as an independent consultant, which meant that I got to do interesting work, but was still able to take the odd day off and spend a day at the beach with the girls. I’m loving this gig; it’s a privileged position to able to choose the work that I take on, and it helps me with setting boundaries — something I’ve never really been very good at doing.

Our big trip of the summer was up to Lake Tahoe, where we had a family reunion with three generations of family from my mom’s side. My mom had 9 kids in her family, so when we have whole-family get-togethers, we usually take up a whole restaurant. This was a scaled-back gathering of the family that’s living the in the United States.

A lively bunch, they are.

The kids got to do what kids do…you know, making weapons out of sticks…

…and so on…

The lake was nothing short of amazing. Amazing! Clear! Sparkly! Here I am having one of the happiest moments ever, on a paddle board in the middle of this incredible view (photo credit to my cousin Jack!):

Plenty of kayaking and boating to go around too.

And some of us did some tree climbing on a ropes course:

The best thing we did (thanks to the spectacular organization skills of my sister-in-law) was to hire a private chef — Arica from Yummy Fixins — who was soooooooo fantastic. Not only was her food spectacular, but she and her assistant cleaned the kitchen before and after! If you are in Tahoe, it would simply be wrong not to hire Arica.

See those flourless chocolate cake slices in the back? I would fight you for them! The BEST I have ever tasted.

My brother was in charge of martini-making and photo bombing:

My cousins and I used to spend summers together hanging out, torturing one another and generally engaging in what is most accurately described as nonsense, so it was great to have an opportunity to gather us from all the corner of the country to do this all over again, across three generations.

After the reunion, we made our way back down the California coast. If I am ever a cow, please make me a Big Sur cow. They have the most amazing views.

I’ll do a roundup of the coastline drive in another post, but that’s just a taster…isn’t it lovely?

Ah, thanks for allowing me to relive one of the highlights of summer. And now, back to real life. The kids are back in school, we’ve got multiple Google Calendar carpools going on, and a middle school kid in the mix.  Our mornings are rushed and the easiest meals are often cereal, so that’s the go-to for the kids.

I’ve been adding these gluten-free banana chocolate muffins into the repertoire lately. Now, we all know that I’ve got nothing against gluten, being that I bake my own bread. But these are so easy to make, don’t require a ton of ingredients, and they always, always come out moist. We’ve made a little video below, with the full recipe under the video. Hope you enjoy these — cheers!

 


GLUTEN-FREE BANANA CHOCOLATE MUFFINS

Ingredients

  • ¾ cup coconut flour
  • 6 eggs
  • 3 ripe bananas, mashed
  • ½ cup raw honey, at room temperature
  • ¼ cup melted coconut oil
  • 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
  • 1 teaspoon baking soda
  • 1 teaspoon chia seeds
  • ¼ teaspoon salt
  • 1/2 cup semi-sweet chocolate chips

Preparation

  1. Preheat the oven to 350F and line a standard muffin tin with 12 baking cups.
  2. In a large mixing bowl, combine the all ingredients except for chocolate chips. Use a spatula to mix well; then fold in the chocolate chips.
  3. Divide the batter among the 12 cups, then bake at 350F for 23-25 minutes, until the edges are golden the centers of the muffins feel firm to a light touch. Allow the muffins to cool for at least 20 minutes before serving.
  4. Store these in the fridge if not eating immediately.

Makes 12 muffins.

Fashion Shopping Travel

{San Diego} Emme J Boutique

 

Every once in a while you come across an ethical dilemma. Let’s say you find out, through the kindness of a friend (who is obviously a lot more generous than I am — thanks Alice!), about a super secret but awesome source of brand name clothing where everything is 80%+ off. You go there and confirm, it’s true, this place is for real. This could be your secret source of inspired and interesting apparel at prices that rival those of Target…but then you meet the owner of the store who says she would love some publicity because she isn’t allowed to advertise. Do you keep this information to your self, continuing to mine it for a suspiciously evolving wardrobe? Or do you share it, introducing competition for the the inventory but bringing benefit to the business owner?

Sigh. I must really love you guys.

Emme J sells excess merchandise from the distribution centers of such major brands as Joe’s Jeans, Athleta, Free People, Anthropologie, Wilt and Urban Outfitters. Joni, the founder, came upon this business in a most tragic way: years ago, while she was working for Seven Jeans, her family was killed by a drunk driver in a highway accident. Joni, understandably, couldn’t stand to commute on the highway on a daily basis anymore. Her boss suggested that, as she was a veteran of the garment industry, she may be able to work out a way for her to set up a retail operation close to home — essentially leveraging her years of trunk show experience, while alleviating brands of their excess inventory. Though brands were initially concerned about cannibalization, she’s been able to prove that their brands and sales remain intact, while she’s able to provide for them a valuable service.

And what a valuable service it is! Especially for me (er, us). Joni gets 11,000 pieces of inventory a month (with a shipment of 5,000 bags from Nordstrom on the way!).

When you walk in, you’re greeted with racks and racks labeled $15, $25, $30 and $40. Joni also told me that most items would probably fit me well, since I was pretty much the size of the fit models they use for the brands she carries — at which point I loved her immediately, since no one has every accused me of being a fit model.

It was here that I discovered the joys of Wilt clothing, delightfully clever and slouchy awesomewear with uneven hems and clean lines.

Emme J also offers event services, such as birthday parties, girl’s night out, fashion shows and fundraisers. Tell ’em Sandi sent you!

Emme J
6840 Embarcadero Ln (directly across from the Carlsbad Coaster station)
Carlsbad, California
(619) 208-7639

Open Tuesdays / Thursdays 9 AM – 6 PM and on select Saturdays

Food Gardening Travel

O’Henry Peaches from Frog Hollow Farm

I am going to publish a scientific paper about how time goes more quickly in the summer and when you’re shopping on eBay.

If you follow me on Facebook you know that I just got back a couple of weeks ago from another trip to England. I spent the first week in London for work, but weekends with the rest of the  family in the country. If you’re a garden lover and a runner like me, the English countryside in the summer is pretty much as good as it gets. Except, if you’re like me, you have to stop every few feet to snap photos of the gardens.

I know, it’s really bad.

I just.can’t.stop.

Can’t.

I even checked out the Queen’s gardens this time around. They weren’t too shabby either.

Aside from English gardens, summer is also really great for peaches. I can turn just about any fruit into a dessert, but sometimes, you’re best off leaving it the way it was made.

Such is the way with organic O’Henry peaches from Frog Hollow Farm. Frog Hollow is in Brentwood, California, and produces the most breathtaking fruit, lovingly packed and shipped.

I got to try this fruit because, as luck would have it, my colleague The Fruit Maven generously brought a box into the office. This is generous because, had I received this box, I would have eaten it by myself in front of the shipping container within three minutes of receipt.

My pictures, sadly, do not do these peaches justice, since they were taken with my iPhone under the romantic glow of fluorescent lights. Even so, note the beautiful read marbling on the peach slice, cut from the peach that was soft enough to be cut by a plastic knife found in the break room. The texture was soft but had the perfect amount of body, and the taste was sweet and, well, peachy…possibly the peachiest peach I’ve ever eaten. Sweet and peachy — all you could ever want in a peach.

Frog Hollow Farms ships too — you can order a box of peaches from this link. And while you’re eating your peach, I’ll tell you about the rest of my trip.

The second week was spent in the countryside.

My mother-in-law got the kids raincoats and wellies, so it promptly stopped raining.

Which meant that they could go on a ropes course.

I got to catch up with my neighbor Helen, who moved back to the UK two weeks earlier:

My sister-in-law took me shopping, where I fell in love with a dress that looked really sad on me:

Nevermind, though, because we hit Cath Kidston next where I got a tiered cake platter and a set of flowery napkins that my husband doesn’t like (but I love!).

We had a dinner celebration for my brother-in-law’s 40th:

and then headed over to spend a few days with our friends Simon and Laura.

And some time miming I guess.

The kids had a great time with their daughter, swimming:

hanging out:

and visiting her school:

Now I’m back at home, waiting for my flowers to be plentiful enough to place by my bedside table. Til then, this memory will have to do.

 

Travel

{Travel} Palm Desert and Anza-Borrego State Park, California

A native of the east coast, my impression of the desert has always been as follows:

  • You are always crawling through it on your knees.
  • Saying “agua”.
  • Then you see an oasis. But you collapse before you get there.

Since I’ve lived in California, though, the desert has become a restorative place for me. Nowhere is the sky bigger, the vista larger, the hues more serene. The desert has a majestic quiet about it, coupled with a resolute sense of determination. The desert lives on through the harshest conditions, and surprises us with its resilience.

I’ve been in the desert a couple of times in the past few months. In February, my parents, my brother’s family and mine spent a week in the Palm Desert area.

While we were there, my parents celebrated their 45th anniversary.

I posted this cute picture of them on Facebook and got a bunch of comments from relatives in Taiwan. Embarrassingly illiterate, I had to rely on Google Translate:

灑恩愛,很有版面,值得讚許,願您們在世的日子牽手共度嘉年華。

Sprinkle loving, very layout laudable, you would like to spend their days on the earth in hand carnival.

你們在溫暖中享受鴛鴦划水,我們在冰箱中成為蚯蚓了

You enjoy duck paddling in the warm, we became the earthworms in the refrigerator

I’m a little worried about what I wrote in response, but Google Translate would never lead me astray, right?

We did spend a good amount of time floating around in a pool:

…but we also found time to enjoy the vistas at the top of Mt Jacinto, via the aerial tramway:

The girls had a great time playing with their baby cousin:

It was a fantastic, relaxing vacation and I left restored.

Until a week later.

Back in the full swing of life and work and acquisitions and activities, I was tired again. It was time for a weekend getaway, this time a camping trip to the Anza-Borrego State Park.

This was our first time camping in the desert, and we were excited. Not the least of which because we had finally invested in a tent that actually fit 4 people — not the 4 person tent we had before which entailed my husband sleeping diagonally across the legs of the children.

This was the view from our campsite:

I love those two palms. At night, they look like a frizzy-haired couple watching the moon together.

This was the first time that the kids were able to do some pretty serious hikes. I’d say there were only 3 wpm (whines per minute) as opposed to the 45 or so that we’re used to. And they made it to the top! Of what I don’t know, but it was definitely the top of the trail.

 

One of my favorite new plants we encountered is called the ocotillo:

I just love its vibrant red flowers and its weeping yet sturdy form.

We also did a 3-mile hike to an oasis — this involved a bit of climbing, and it did get pretty hot along the way, so maybe it wasn’t so far off from the desert I had in mind originally. But eventually, we did get to the oasis. Sound advice for the desert: bring lots of water. You’ll need it before you get to the oasis.

On the hike back, we ran into a rattlesnake. I was too chicken to get close enough to take a picture, but then we ran into this guy later on:

We also came upon a group of people with binoculars who had spotted some big horn sheep in the distance. I’d like to think that I saw them too — I just couldn’t tell which part of the brown they were.

But what I did see was the utter vastness of the desert. The open expanse of big sky and mountain ranges as far as the eye can see…I love this feeling of being diminished, of feeling that I’m but a small part of something so much bigger. For an anxious person like me, it takes the pressure off. It’s a nice reminder that the world doesn’t revolve around me.

“Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?”
— Mary Oliver

Travel

How Boston Restored My Sanity

 

Last month, which shall heretofore be known as The Month in Which I Lacked the Mental Fortitude to Post, I shrieked “I QUIT!!!” to my car, which accepted my resignation with stoic silence. My husband was on business in Boston, my calendar looked like a rainbow had puked, I was sick, my kids were over-scheduled and I was supposed to take them to Boston that weekend for a family wedding (did I mention that we’d be flying on Halloween when they’d be all jacked up on candy?). I was feeling a little resentful about my dishpan hands and the lack of having a house filled with cooks and servants a la Downton Abbey, and that’s how I went into the month of Thanksgiving.

There’s nothing like a getaway and a wedding to fix a grinchy attitude.

I used to live in Boston, long ago. I found my apartment on a quick weekend trip, in the paper (back when people read those): $900 a month for a 2-bedroom, Harbor view, close to the T. Went to check it out, and sure enough, it was right on the Harbor and a steal with a parking spot too, and just a 10 minute walk to the JFK / UMass stop on the Red Line. The rental agent told me it was a diverse community, which I took to mean that it included doctors and dentists.

My first night there I was wondering why there were fireworks. I also thought it was weird that every morning I’d hear on the radio that someone was murdered in my neighborhood.

Yup. My apartment was in the projects.

It was fine, actually. I was a consultant at the time and mostly out of town, and when I was in town I would just walk as if I knew kung-fu and everyone pretty much left me alone. Except for the story of the Chinese girl (me) and the hubcaps…but that’s for another time.

One of my early Boston clients was near Faneuil Hall, so I’d grab dinner there frequently. I dragged my family there and we got lobster rolls. Good start to the weekend. I have simple needs.

Next, we hopped on a double-decker tour bus with open-air windows, at which point it started to pour with rain and howl with wind. There are no pictures of that since we were soaked to the point that we feared we might drown. This made me thankful for California.

The weather cleared up later in the day and we hopped over to Cambridge to visit a small liberal arts college near MIT (sorry, that’s a friendly jab at my cousin). We saw fall colors!

I look forward to our family weddings because our family, though huge (my mom has eight siblings), doesn’t seem to have the stamina to plan a family reunion so we rely on life events to bring the cousins together. Here are some of our kids. We only make girls:

The wedding was lovely and there were a few hours between the ceremony and the reception, so we walked around downtown and ran into Terry and Cornelia in the midst of their photo shoot.

The reception was at the Boston Marriott Long Wharf hotel, which happens to be where I lived for about 6 months on my very first consulting project. I used to get a cranberry-orange muffin at the bottom of the escalator from the Dunkin Donuts cart every morning, which is the only time I’ve been recognized as a “regular” in my life (and even then, only as the cranberry-orange muffin girl). It’s been completely redone and Dunkin Donuts has been replaced by Starbucks, so though I had anticipated flashbacks it looked like a completely different hotel.

The food was fantastic and everyone was happy. That’s what I like about weddings — they’re so happy! I’d forgotten by this time that I had no servants at home.

Now, you see that girl in the red dress on the right hand side?

It’s Jennifer Che from Tiny Urban Kitchen!!! How do I write this in a way that makes me appear not to be a stalker — she’s kind of a big deal. Look at all the award badges she has on her site. Then look at all none of them on mine. People actually invite her to eat their food and blog about it. I have to pay people to let me eat their food, and probably to get them to eat my food too.

My favorite thing about Jen’s blog are the authentic Asian recipes she has on there — specifically, the Chinese / Taiwanese dishes that I grew up with but never bothered learning how to make. After we got home the kids and I were inspired to try making her hand-pulled noodles, which I’ll dedicate a post to later. Suffice it to say that she makes it look easy while we made it look like larvae.

I was really excited to meet Jen, who was super nice and incredibly skinny for someone who seems to eat all the time. I discovered that she sings and plays a bunch of instruments too in addition to being able to pull perfect noodles out of a mound of dough.

Of all the cities I’ve lived in, Boston was never my favorite — probably because with my consulting lifestyle, I wasn’t around much. But it is one of the places where I’ve gotten some of my best stories (see “projects” reference above) and where I did a lot of growing up. And this time — thanks, Boston, for getting me back on track.

Cooking Food Travel

Whole Trout en Papillote

It’s finally the end of the week and I’m feeling like the fish above. He’s all, “Girl, my terrariums are all dessicated and don’t even talk to me about my hair, so I’m just going to lie down in a bed of butter and lemons now.” Am I projecting?

I got back from another business trip to London a couple of weeks ago. Every morning I ran in the mist like a gorilla, which is my favorite weather and method to run in.

Across the bridge:

along the River Thames:

past Big Ben:

and on the first day, accidentally across a finish line amidst a cheering crowd in #theonlyraceilleverwin. Not to worry, the glory didn’t last long because the very next day some piece of cobblestone tripped me into some major Crouching Tiger-style flying and rolling on the ground resulting in this (and yes, as a friend so generously pointed out, I managed to land on the tops of my knees. And don’t judge my skin.):

It wasn’t like I was very noticeable wearing hot pink running shoes, a purple running skirt and a fuschia jacket or anything. I always said that exercise was dangerous.

Later, I did manage to make it to a pop-up restaurant in SoHo called The Full English, and felt much better after stuffing myself with bacon, eggs, tomatoes and beans. Check it out if you’re in London.

So that was London. Now on to fish.

Trout is one of my favorite fish, and what  I love about fish (aside from the brain health benefits that I so desperately need) is the speed with which you can prepare it. I’m not terribly experienced with cooking whole fish, so I used this Whole Trout en Papilotte recipe from the Food Network. Place some chopped onion on a piece of parchment paper, lay the fish on top and cut slits into it. Season it inside and out with salt and pepper.

Stuff the fish with herbs, coat the top with shallot butter (see instructions below) and cover it with a layer of lemons.

I wrapped it in the parchment, grilled it for 20 minutes, and it was done! Moist, tender, and makes you smarter!

WHOLE TROUT EN PAPILLOTE (from Food Network)

Ingredients

  • 2 whole trout, dressed
  • Salt and pepper
  • 1/2 cup sliced sweet yellow onion
  • 2 handfuls fresh herbs (thyme, parsley and rosemary)
  • 3 tablespoons lemon-shallot butter, recipe follows
  • 1 lemon, sliced
  • 2 tablespoons dry white wine
  • 1 tablespoon extra-virgin olive oil
  • Parchment paper

Preparation

Preheat oven to 400 degrees (I used a grill — either will work!). Cut 2 sheets of parchment paper large enough to completely cover the fish when folded. Wash and dry the trout. Using a knife, score the fish on 1 side by cutting slits into the flesh just until you feel the bone. Season the trout generously, inside and out with salt and pepper. Spread 1/4 cup of the onions on each sheet of parchment. Place fish on top, scored side up. Stuff the inside of the fish with herbs. (It’s ok if they stick out a bit). Top each fish with 1 1/2 tablespoons of the shallot butter. Cover with the lemon slices. Drizzle 1 tablespoon white wine and 1/2 tablespoon olive oil over each fish. Fold the parchment over the fish. Starting at 1 end, fold the paper on itself, making sure to completely seal it. At the end, fold it underneath itself. Repeat. Place fish on large baking sheet and cook for about 12 to 15 minutes. To serve, place trout en papillote on a platter. Cut the parchment at the table to ensure that all the aromas stay inside the package.

Lemon Shallot Butter

Ingredients

  • 1 stick unsalted butter, softened
  • 1 lemon, zest finely minced
  • 1 small shallot, finely minced
  • Salt and pepper

Preparation

In a food processor, combine all ingredients until mixed. Place whipped butter mixture onto a sheet of plastic wrap and roll into a log. Freeze until ready to use. Butter will keep in the freezer for at least a month.

Cooking Food Travel

The Last of Summer Tomato Salad

Et tu, summer?

After my last post about being still, I have to confess that I have been anything but. I woke up one day found myself in London:

I was there for business, but I did manage to fit in dinner with some friends, a few runs in Green Park, a peek at the Prime Meridian in Greenwich:

a meal and a chocolatey porter at the Mean Time brewery:

and a glorious hour at Fortnum & Mason, where I had an internal debate on whether my life would be incomplete without a $700 tea pot:

You know, because I have so many tea parties.

But then I realized that this decision was headed for the same outcome as a purchase I made 10 years ago of pleather pants, so I made a quick jaunt over to Carnaby Street where I bought overpriced scented erasers as souvenirs for the kids.

It was a hectic but productive trip, and as soon as I got home I promptly fell ill. And then got on a plane again soon thereafter.

All this rushing around argues for a bit of simplicity.

One of my favorite things about summer is tomatoes. Heirloom tomatoes, to be exact. Colorful, flavorful, deliciously simple. We still have time for that.

I made this salad as part of an dinner we had with friends outdoors on a warm summer night. Because when you are a friend just arriving from Germany, with another on her way to Europe and a third who is Canadian, it would only be logical to stop in for a meal prepared by a Chinese American married to a Brit.

It’s a simple one really — just some slicing and a vinaigrette. But perfectly colorful, tasty, and quick enough to allow you time to enjoy some pause amidst the busyness of everyday life.

HEIRLOOM TOMATO SALAD

Ingredients

  • 1/4 cup balsamic vinegar
  • 1 tsp salt
  • Freshly ground black pepper
  • 1/4 cup extra virgin olive oil
  • 5-6 varied, fresh heirloom tomatoes
  • 3-4 leaves of basil

Preparation

Slice the tomatoes into slices 1/4 inch thick. Place them in a single layer on a serving dish, and sprinkle with a pinch of salt.

Mix the balsamic vinegar and salt together, until the salt dissolves. Add in olive oil and stir until combined. Grind in some fresh black pepper to taste. Pour over the tomatoes.

Julienne 3-4 leaves of basil and sprinkle over the salad.

Serves 4-6.

 

 

Popular Travel

Postcard from Paradise

I’ve been looking forward to this for a long time.

I’m on the Hawaiian island of Kauai, surrounded by lush greenery, birdsong, and the gentle breeze of the trade winds. It’s a quieter version of home, really, and arguably I live in a sort of paradise already. But what I was really looking forward to on this trip was being in the moment. Being still.

Most of my life has been spent in a mad dash to get on to the next thing. It was always a moving target, that next thing. And I wasn’t really sure why I was chasing it in the end. I suppose that it got me to a place where I can have nice vacations, but that wasn’t really why I did it. Maybe habit. But most of the time, I wasn’t really living. I mostly stressed and exhausted.

Two years ago, I decided I needed to change that.

It’s hard for me to slow down and be present, but this is the perfect place to practice. When dawn comes with the chatter of birds and the sound of rustling leaves, you listen. And somehow when you take the time to listen, time becomes, like the universe, an ever-expanding entity, and suddenly, hurry makes no sense.

Day begins with the early stirrings of the sun through the slats of the shutters.

The birds sound busy — like they’re rattling off the tasks for the day and urging their little ones along (or maybe I’m just projecting). There’s a lovely variation in their chatter…unlike the roosters. The roosters strut around saying the same thing over and over again (“Making NOI-ses! Making NOI-ses!”), with one leading the chant and the others echoing as if they’re kids at a YMCA summer camp. They’re kind of like the Ryan Lochtes of the island.

We feast on fresh laid eggs brought to us by the owners of the house we rent, and overlook the garden.

 

 

A hungry cardinal visits us regularly hoping for scraps.

We take a magical path down to the beach.

Some people get so excited they jump right in with their clothes on.

There are so many beautiful beaches with turquoise waters. They imbibe us and bring us to the present.

I begin to notice the tree roots.

The clouds.

The scale of things.

And the stillness. Be still and know that I am God.

We head back to the house and enjoy a refreshing shower outdoors, surrounded by plumeria and ginger, coral and moss.

Back out to see the sunset.

The rhythmic lapping of the waves a reminder of the eternal cycle at work, that tomorrow will be here at its own pace, moving along in slow ripples of time, slow enough for me to notice.

Travel

{Travel} Grand Canyon / Maswik Lodge

Grand Canyon

You know how some things are so awesome that they almost become cliche — like bacon, ninjas or Chuck Norris? The Grand Canyon is one of those things.

So it was only recently that I thought perhaps I should check it out. Kind of like how five years after the iPhone came out I finally got one and thought, huh, maybe this Apple thing is here to stay (except that maybe it isn’t).

My kids get a week-long break in February, but I don’t, so we planned a half-week road trip from SoCal to the Canyon. We decided to stop in Vegas on the way there and back to break up the drive.

We saw a lot of this on the drive:

Open road

Lots of wide open spaces that make you really feel just how big America really is, and how small you really are. And truckers. I thought a lot about truckers on our trip, about how lonely it must be, and how poor the food choices are. At one point I fantasized about starting a non-profit to improve the eating options of truckers, and then I started to get emotional from all the conversations I had with the imaginary truckers who engaged with the non-profit and were so happy to see arugula salads and juice bars. I never said that I was stable.

As we progressed through the mighty Mojave desert the landscape was painted with beautiful luminous coral brushstrokes:

Mojave desert evening

and finally, sunset:

Mojave sunset

We did a quick jaunt to the Vegas strip, which included stuffing our faces at the Bellagio buffet that was amazing but totally not worth the kids eating just mac and cheese, and headed back to rest up for the drive the next day. Not without passing a billboard for Crazy Horse 3, to which my 9-year-old responded, “Let me guess. It has nothing to do with horses.”

Vegas

The next day we picked up and drove to the Hoover Dam, which is only about 30 minutes outside of Vegas. There, you can be in Nevada, and then Arizona, and then Nevada, and so on within minutes, which is kind of fun since they’re in different time zones. I won’t dwell too much here on the dam except to say that it is very big and and an engineering feat indeed.

Hoover Dam

We also stopped in Arizona to get gas here, because how could you not:

Uranus Gas

Now, the Canyon. We arrived at the South Rim around 4 PM and hurriedly drove around looking for the Maswik Lodge, where we were staying and which is just at the edge of the canyon. You can see the outside of the lodge here:

Maswik Lodge outside

We walked the quarter mile up to the rim where there were mule deer at every turn:

Mule deer

Path to rim

and were greeted with this:

Grand Canyon panoramic

Grand Canyon view

There’s really nothing that prepares you for the vastness and the grandeur of the view. It was a quiet evening, and we were nearly alone along the rim as the sun was beginning to set. The majesty of the canyon literally takes your breath away. We couldn’t help but be silent as we took the view in.

It looks like a painting. It changes constantly. It’s different at every turn. It brings you a certain peace. At least, it brings me peace. Grand landscapes and sweeping swaths of sky give me the perspective that I am but a tiny piece of this world. That my stressors, no matter how big they seem when I look inward, are infinitesimal when I look outward. That’s why I love big skies. They help me decompress.

After a quick walk around, we headed back to the lodge.

Walking back

Now, a bit about the Maswik Lodge:

  • It’s inside the National Park and you can make reservations here. We went in the off-season so rates were very reasonable and easy to get; you will likely have to reserve early if you’re going anywhere from April through October.
  • There are two choices of room types: the North rooms have been renovated and have nicer bedding and furniture; the South rooms where we stayed are perfectly reasonable and clean, though basic. I didn’t see any of the renovated rooms but will post photos of our room here. The room is very small — not much more than what you see in the pictures.
  • I wasn’t sure what to expect from a park service lodge, but shampoo, conditioner and lotion was provided, as was an ionic hairdryer — nice touch, I thought.
  • We went in February so it was cold and snowy outside, but the rooms were very warm. VERY warm. We turned off the heat and were still pretty hot, and the air was drier than we were used to. But we live in SoCal so are inherently weaker than other people.
  • I’ll be making a separate post about the food at the lodge, which was very reasonable as well and exceeded my expectations for what I’d be getting at a park.
  • I’ve heard good things about Bright Angel as well, but it wasn’t available when I checked. Bright Angel is right on the rim.

Ok, now for the pictures. I forgot to take them before we settled into (read: made a sty of) the room, so please forgive the mess but you’ll get an idea of the space.

The beds (and knitting children):

Beds

The bathroom was small but clean and the water pressure was excellent:

Bathroom

There isn’t a closet but there is an area for hanging clothes, and a sink and mirror just outside the bathroom:

Mirror and sink

There’s also a little desk right next to the entrance that you can make look like this:

Desk

And here’s the outside of the lodge again:

Lodge outside

The next morning we headed out to explore the South Rim of the Canyon again — the North Rim is inaccessible in the winter due to snow. Unless you have traction equipment, you can’t walk down into the canyon either in February because it’s icy, so we walked along the easy, paved trail that has convenient lookout points throughout. There’s also a free shuttle bus service that runs along the rim and to the various lodges in the area.

There are a few lookout points that the bus doesn’t reach, so we drove out to those; as I said, the canyon looks different throughout the day and from different vantage points:

Canyon again

After a couple of hours we packed ourselves back into the car and drove away, peace and beauty at our backs.

Hair Travel

{Tokyo} Insolite Salon

This is a travel post about hair. If you don’t care about hair, I’d suggest drooling over pictures of Jiro’s sushi or cooking up a simple frittata. Back to food soon enough, but I just had to share a little more about my visit to Japan!

This is a picture of me in a crowded Tokyo toy store surrounded by Furbys a day before getting my hair done, standing next to someone who is clearly not Japanese.

As the owner of a head of Asian hair, one of the things I looked most forward to on my trip to Japan was getting my hair done. Tokyo is full of beautiful people with amazing hair and incredible wardrobes, so I’ve spent the first couple of days here forgetting that most Asians have naturally black hair and starting to think I need to add false eyelashes with feathers on them to my daily routine. I also now think it barbaric to have to sit on unheated toilet seats that don’t include noisemakers, air fresheners or adjustable bidet jets.

The last time I got my hair cut with a new stylist at a trendy beachside salon back home, I asked the stylist what she would do if there was anything she could do to my hair. She said, “The Rachel. Your hair is perfect for that.” which, 1) I know to be untrue, 2) the Rachel should not be suggested in 2012 and 3) should have sent me running immediately. But I was feeling adventurous and said, “Not the Rachel, but do what you think would look best.” What I know now is that if you’re Asian and you say that, you will get a local news anchor haircut, not like Connie Chung circa 1985.

I went home, cut some choppy layers into my hair and have been cutting my own hair ever since.

Sandra made me an appointment with Hiroshi Noda, or “Noda-san” at Insolite Salon in Hiroo. I decided to try color, since I had just cut my own hair two days before and figured that since I don’t speak Japanese, it would be easier not to have to try to mime “texturize” and “more volume here.” I’m not sure why I thought acting out color would be easier though.

Sandra, or San-do-ra, on the left, made my reservations for Insolite and Jiro’s sushi place. I am standing like a superhero.

The Salon is beautiful and everyone who works there has amazing hair. I felt an unfamiliar feeling…of hope.

The upfront communication was the hardest. A color swatch book came out, and without a clear outcome in mind, and through the English-speaking shampoo girl, I asked for a recommendation. I basically wanted to do something non-committal, since I knew I’d be poor at maintenance, like highlights that would grow out ok if neglected. After a game of charades we narrowed agreed to mix a couple of colors. Then:

“Cut-o?”

Sandra and I shook our heads. “Color.”

Some Japanese and then, with a mimed snipping motion, “Cut-0?”

Exaggerated head shaking: “Color.”

Noda-san pulled out pieces of my hair. He asked about the last time I had a cut – a year ago? Clearly my hair indicated that I had spent the past year in a cave.

I giggled maniacally and confessed that I had just cut my hair two days ago. I think they were laughing at my hair.

I agreed to a cut.

The appropriately unflattering “before” picture. Noda-san is on the left, laughing at me. Noda-san’s hair is cool in real life but looks shocked in this picture.

I was given an arm rest that goes around your torso and across your lap, which I can only describe as a luxurious version of a Boppy pillow, and which was wonderful. I may start to bring one with me for any situation that requires me to be in a chair…because why should my arms be allowed to fall ever.

Noda-san wore a holster, which held more scissors than a preschool classroom. He fluffed my hair out and pointed to the longer straggly ends and said, “Jellyfish.” I was impressed with the vocabulary he possessed for mockery. He was quick, precise and, I was glad to see, employed a different technique from my own. His scissors were so sharp that I rarely saw him bring the blades together – the hair just fell on contact with a blade.

I wanted to say, “Can you rough it up a little? I want the layers to be a little more edgy” but instead I nodded and said “Domo arigato.” It was fine. People are always giving me conservative, age-appropriate haircuts (I blame my round face), and I’m always trying to get them to rough it up a little more. But I really liked the way he volumized the top of my hair, and his technique was very good. Plus, knowing an addict when he saw one, he gave me tips for the next time I cut my own hair.

Next, a crew put little plastic shower caps on my ears. I laughed because I’m immature. I asked Sandra if she had gotten those too and she said no, since she had highlights and I was getting allover color. Which is when I learned that that’s what we had agreed to. Which was fine; it’s only hair.

I was brought to a rinsing station and experienced the longest and most wonderful hair washing experience of my life. My face was tented with an aromatherapeutic gauze of my choice, followed by an amazing shampoo experience and a loooooong scalp massage. I was then brought back to my chair and given a second head and shoulder massage. Which is when I decided that I really needed to move to Japan.

Noda-san came back and dried and styled my hair. The color is great – it’s subtle enough to grow out without too much trauma, but visible enough that it warmed up my complexion a bit.

“After” – me and Noda-san. I know, you can’t tell from the picture that much happened but I got two massages and aromatherapy out of it!

In writing this post I discovered that Noda-san has a blog! Which features a bunch of models and shows and conspicuously (and wisely) excludes me and my shower-cap-covered ears from it.

So if you’re in Tokyo and looking for a pampering hair experience, I’d recommend Insolite. If you’re looking for the exact haircut you want, I’d recommend going to Insolite and speaking Japanese.

Insolite Salon

Green Core 1F 5-16-13 Hiroo Minami Azabu, Minato-ku, Tokyo 
TEL 03-3280-1062 FAX 03-3280-6040