Where have I been, what have I been doing?
I guess the better question is: where haven't I been, what haven't I been doing?
I haven't seen my flat in ages, I don't sleep anymore, I'm wearing out my stilettos going from place to place, trying to cover every inch of London, and have somehow made loads of new mates - right as I'm about to leave of course.
You think you know what you want, and then everything changes but it's too late to do anything about it. My visa is expiring. My ticket is booked. I'm going back to America.
In many ways, I think I've just realized how lucky I've been this whole year. Meeting new and interesting people everyday from all over the world, wandering around the Tate, the British Museum, and the Satchi Gallery, shopping in Selfrides, living in a country where eating scones and clotted cream everday is completely acceptable, leaving work Friday and heading to the airport to spend the weekend roaming around the cobblestoned streets of (fill in the blank), swooning.
It's all coming to an end....
Back to weekends of shopping in SoHo and visiting the MoMA. Which is, I admit, still an amazing way to spend the weekend....but if I had to choose between yachting in Monaco or shopping at Club Monaco.. .well I think we all know the answer to that.
This past summer was undoubtably the best summer of my life. Exploring somewhere different every weekend, going to the Olympics, and a reunion with my entire family. And actually when I think of the year as a whole - this really has been the best year of my life, despite the somewhat rocky start. And when I continue to think of it - this month may be the best month of my year so far, the grand finale to a wonderful year in London.
The weather has been gorgeous, I've made new friends and developed a sudden closeness with the existing ones, I know my way around here without any hesitation or difficulty, and I've done something wonderful, everyday.
Studying the 100 objects that tell the history of the world at the British Museum, champange-ing my way through London's FNO, going to the Olympic stadium to watch the Paralympics, spending a consecutive 48 hours with a group of strangers that instantly became friends, crossing the bridges of Venice with my sister, picnicking in Hyde Park, wandering through giant chess sets the Satchi Gallery, Mexican-food outtings with my best guy friend here who pronounces burrito "bore-E-toe," learning to salsa dance with a group of Israelites while crashing a private party in Zurich, afterwork drinks on warm nights at Gordon's Wine Bar with friends, hearing a band called "The Daisy Cutters" cover American punk music, having swiss fondue on top of mountain, coming home at 3am to find 100+ Brits in my flat for my flatmate's birthday celebration, sipping an unfairly good tasting latte with an unfairly good looking British Army officer at a secret coffee shop, admiring the amazing Mr. Brainwash exhibition and leaving with swag, getting to watch the premier of Season 3 of Downtown Abbey 4 months before it debuts in America.... Yeah, I'd say it's been a great month.
And tonight I had one of the truly best and most memorable meals of my life at a little place called Duck&Waffle.
On the 40th floor of Heron Tower, with unparalleled views of the city of London, I ate like I was in New York. I met my friend for cocktails and plate shares, and among the many things we sipped and snacked on, the star of the evening was of course - the signature dish.
I guess the better question is: where haven't I been, what haven't I been doing?
In the past 3 week's time I've gone from New York, Ohio, to Venice, to Rome, back home to London, spent the weekend in Britain for the first time in nearly two months, then to Zurich and Lucerne, and in 3 short days I am heading to Monaco.
Reality is setting in that my time here is running out, and I don't like it. I really don't want to go back to America.
Did you see this coming? Back in February I was seriously considering quitting my job just to get back to America, and now I'm seriously considering eloping with a Brit just to stay in England. It goes to show just how fickle emotions can be.
You think you know what you want, and then everything changes but it's too late to do anything about it. My visa is expiring. My ticket is booked. I'm going back to America.
In many ways, I think I've just realized how lucky I've been this whole year. Meeting new and interesting people everyday from all over the world, wandering around the Tate, the British Museum, and the Satchi Gallery, shopping in Selfrides, living in a country where eating scones and clotted cream everday is completely acceptable, leaving work Friday and heading to the airport to spend the weekend roaming around the cobblestoned streets of (fill in the blank), swooning.
It's all coming to an end....
Back to weekends of shopping in SoHo and visiting the MoMA. Which is, I admit, still an amazing way to spend the weekend....but if I had to choose between yachting in Monaco or shopping at Club Monaco.. .well I think we all know the answer to that.
This past summer was undoubtably the best summer of my life. Exploring somewhere different every weekend, going to the Olympics, and a reunion with my entire family. And actually when I think of the year as a whole - this really has been the best year of my life, despite the somewhat rocky start. And when I continue to think of it - this month may be the best month of my year so far, the grand finale to a wonderful year in London.
The weather has been gorgeous, I've made new friends and developed a sudden closeness with the existing ones, I know my way around here without any hesitation or difficulty, and I've done something wonderful, everyday.
Studying the 100 objects that tell the history of the world at the British Museum, champange-ing my way through London's FNO, going to the Olympic stadium to watch the Paralympics, spending a consecutive 48 hours with a group of strangers that instantly became friends, crossing the bridges of Venice with my sister, picnicking in Hyde Park, wandering through giant chess sets the Satchi Gallery, Mexican-food outtings with my best guy friend here who pronounces burrito "bore-E-toe," learning to salsa dance with a group of Israelites while crashing a private party in Zurich, afterwork drinks on warm nights at Gordon's Wine Bar with friends, hearing a band called "The Daisy Cutters" cover American punk music, having swiss fondue on top of mountain, coming home at 3am to find 100+ Brits in my flat for my flatmate's birthday celebration, sipping an unfairly good tasting latte with an unfairly good looking British Army officer at a secret coffee shop, admiring the amazing Mr. Brainwash exhibition and leaving with swag, getting to watch the premier of Season 3 of Downtown Abbey 4 months before it debuts in America.... Yeah, I'd say it's been a great month.
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| Olympic Park |
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| Chess Set designed by Yayoi Kusama |
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| Hyde Park on a late summer's day |
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| lovely latte |
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| Swiss Fondue |
And tonight I had one of the truly best and most memorable meals of my life at a little place called Duck&Waffle.
On the 40th floor of Heron Tower, with unparalleled views of the city of London, I ate like I was in New York. I met my friend for cocktails and plate shares, and among the many things we sipped and snacked on, the star of the evening was of course - the signature dish.
duck & waffle / crispy leg confit / fried duck egg / mustard maple syrup
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| Duck&Waffle |
Both the views and the food at D&W are nothing less than out of sight. It was the mustard maple syrup that really got me hooked!
We weren't surprised to learn the restaurant in owned by the same people who own Sushi Samba, which also just opened in the Heron Tower one floor down.
Pre-dinner, we sat in the awesome bar taking in the view and sipping "canned" Mint Juleps topped with whipped cream.
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| Mint Juleps "canned" at Duck & Waffle |
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| The bar at Duck&Waffle |
By the time we were seated and mid-waffle gorging, we had befriended the manager of the place. He could tell we weren't from London and wanted to see what we thought of everything. When he found out we were from New York, and that I was a big fan of the El Topo roll, he brought over the manager of Sushi Samba to meet us too and insisted we come back for dinner there. He also suggested some dessert. Done and done.
A few moments later, out came the torrejas - which Mario Batali describes as spiked Spanish French toast for grown-ups, and I'd say that's pretty accurate. I would probably never order this on my own, so thank goodness matters were taken out of my hands.
This little skillet was so delicious, I was trying to lick it clean. Maple, carmel apples, carmel ice cream, fresh toasted brioche, sauce that could only be made of crack it was so addictive.
So waffles for dinner, french toast of dessert - what do these people have on the breakfast menu?
I guess there is only one way to find out.... and I've still got a couple weeks left to do it.
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