Happy Mid-Autumn Festival!

Today is Chinese Mid-Autumn Festival (also known as "Moon Festival"), which we celebrate in my family. Traditionally, it's a celebration of the harvest during the full moon, but I associate it more with this story, as it's what my parents read to me as a small child:

"In the ancient past, there was a hero named [Hou] Yi who was excellent at shooting. His wife was Chang'e. One year, the ten suns rose in the sky together, causing great disaster to people. Yi shot down nine of the suns and left only one to provide light. An immortal admired Yi and sent him the elixir of immortality. Yi did not want to leave Chang'e and be immortal without her, so he let Chang'e keep the elixir. But Feng Meng, one of his apprentices, knew this secret. So, on the fifteenth of August in the lunar calendar, when Yi went hunting, Feng Meng broke into Yi's house and forced Chang'e to give the elixir to him. Chang'e refused to do so. Instead, she swallowed it and flew into the sky. Since she loved her husband very much and hoped to live nearby, she chose the moon for her residence. When Yi came back and learned what had happened, he felt so sad that he displayed the fruits and cakes Chang'e liked in the yard and gave sacrifices to his wife. People soon learned about these activities, and since they also were sympathetic to Chang'e they participated in these sacrifices with Yi." (quoted from the ever handy Wikipedia)

Mainly, it's a time for families to get together and have a big dinner, as well as share in the most important aspect of this festival: MOONCAKE. Often presented in beautiful and elegantly decorated boxes, mooncakes are traditionally made with a pastry outer and filled with a rich red bean or lotus seed paste and features a single, salted hard egg yolk in the middle (to represent the moon). For non-Chinese people, this may sound disgusting, but I can assure you that it is absolutely delicious and a dessert I really enjoy eating once a year. There are several varieties of mooncakes and I personally prefer the pure white lotus seed paste, minus the egg yolk. I also really like the red bean variety as well, but then again, I love red bean anything. Last year, my uncle was in London around this time of the year on business and gave me a gift of four mini mooncakes that he had brought all the way from Hong Kong, boxed in a fancy, gorgeous case.

Of course, it totally slipped my mind that today was Mid-Autumn Festival (even though my mom reminded me to look for mooncakes weeks ago) and my uncle wasn't here to save me, so I ended up running to Chinatown at lunch time to buy mooncakes. Thankfully, all the Chinese bakeries and grocery stores were prepared, so no one left empty-handed - not even last minute procrastinators like me.  The price of mooncakes can range from reasonable to outright expensive, depending on the quality of the ingredients. Being in London's Chinatown, I didn't hold my breath for top quality stuff.

Nevertheless, I'll eat mine (more like a quarter of mine, because they're so rich) tonight with a steaming cup of jasmine tea and enjoy the view of the full moon from my flat. Yum.

Happy Moon Festival!

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How I've Been Getting Up These Days: Lumie Body Clock

England has the darkest winters I've ever experienced. Dark and rainy. And cold.

We have dark and rainy and cold in Seattle too, but I feel London gets unreasonably dark in winter; in the depths of the period between December - January, the sky outside my office window is nearly pitch black before it hits 4:30 pm sometimes. I don't find this depressing, I find it devastating. Yes, I know this sounds like an exaggeration, but it makes me feel like there's no time left in the day, except to trudge home, in the dark, to the bus stop, only to wash, rinse, and repeat the next.

At least I get up at a reasonable hour for work, however. Unlucky John wakes, dresses, and is out the door by 6:30 a.m. (often earlier) and returns home around 7 p.m. (often later), which means he doesn't spend a lot of his waking hours in natural daylight (I'm not sure about his office window situation). One (bright) evening, he turned to me solemnly and said, "I think I get S.A.D." I was reading a gossip magazine and paid no attention to him. "Hmm?" I murmured. "We all get sad from time to time, honey, it's a natural part of living," I said, distracted by a new skirt from Zara. "No," he said urgently. "I mean, S.A.D. as in Seasonal Affective Disorder." I looked up. "Oh, that. Yeah. I get that too." To counteract the impending months of darkness, he informed me that he was going to invest in a Lumie Body Clock at the end of the summer. I laughed, I scoffed, I jeered - I don't buy into such gimmicks.

But ladies and gentlemen ... I think it works. At least, it's been waking me naturally and is much more pleasant than the alarm setting on John's or my iPhone or Blackberry. And it really does mimic natural light, with slots in the back resembling "rays" of sunlight. The biggest difference however, is how I'm feeling even when I wake an hour later after John's long departed. I feel less groggy and tired and am in a generally brighter mood than usual.

Above all, I'm loving how it's helping me fall asleep. I often suffer from angst-ridden dreams and mid-sleep anxiety attacks, especially in the newish-settings of our apartment. I'm also a gadget addict who surrounds herself (the opposite of what you SHOULD do) with an iPad and iPhone, checking tweets and Instagram snaps up until I turn off the light. The Lumie's "sunset" setting allows the natural light to gradually fade over a period of desired time (I'm estimating ours takes around 15-20 minutes) until you're gently enveloped into darkness. I never noticed how much of a shock it is to my body to immediately switch off the light by my bedside. This way, I feel much more relaxed and my breathing slows as well, as if I'm relaxing in savasana (the final relaxation pose in yoga classes).

It has yet to grow dark at 4 p.m., so perhaps I'll be eating my words in a few weeks' time, but I'm really hoping that the Lumie will be able to improve my mood this winter.

(p.s. this isn't an advertisement - but I should probably be compensated. Ha. Ha. Ha.)

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Our Luxurious Mini-Break To Tuddenham Mill, Suffolk

The last bank holiday in August always sneaks up on me - as in, I forget that it exists. By the time I do realize we have a free Monday off, I'm in a total indecisive panic about how I'll spend this precious time: shall I sleep in and spend the rest of the day luxuriating in bed, reading magazine after magazine? Or go on a shopping expedition with a girlfriend who isn't out of town? Or go out of town? Or stay in town but visit a London landmark I've never been to? Or watch back-to-back DVDs if the weather's bad? 

The problem with going out of town is that places fill up really quickly. But John and I thought we deserved a treat (as if we haven't had enough already this year) for just the two of us and he found this amazing place, Tuddenham Mill, online. It's a restored mill in the Suffolk countryside, just outside of Newmarket, which has been transformed into a Mr. & Mrs. Smith boutique hotel with minimal rooms and lots of peace and quiet - just what we needed after this very hectic (but fun!) summer.

It's slightly annoying to get to - the train ride to Newmarket isn't far (an hour and a half or so?) but once there, you have to take a cab to the Mill itself, which proved to be the most expensive cab ride I've taken in my LIFE. £40 roundtrip, and I wasn't smiling. 

Having gotten over that though, we settled in for lunch by the pond when we arrived, as it was a gorgeous, sunny day. I ordered a delicious roast beef and horseradish sandwich on homemade bread, plus a glass of prosecco, just for kicks. We had triple-cooked fries and enjoyed the sounds of ducks quacking and a swan getting semi-aggro about its territory on the side.

When we were shown to our room, Mill Room West, I was smitten: fresh orange juice sat waiting for us in the fridge and a delicate decanter of sloe gin was perched enticingly on the bedside table. The floors were all white wooden floorboards and the high-beamed ceilings gave an airy, loft-like feeling to the room. I, of course, fell immediately in love with the Missoni bathrobes hanging by the oversized tub and couldn't wait to sink into the incredibly feather-soft bed.

Dinner that evening was nothing short of amazing: the restaurant is a real delight for foodies as the head chef, Paul Foster, is well known for his "cutting edge culinary skills", as described on the Tuddenham Mill website, and his past experience at Raymond Blanc's Le Manoir and Restaurant Sat Bains in Nottingham.

I started with the organic salmon at 40°C, served with gooseberries, elderflower, and crispy rice and moved on to a mouthwatering main of Cumbrian beef, oxtail with cabbage and turnip pickled in horseradish. Dessert tasted like fresh snowfall in a pine forest (yes, truly): English raspberries, white chocolate, celery sorbet, and pistachio. I spent most of the evening amazed at the taste sensations hitting my palate and felt so lucky to dine there.

After dinner, we checked out a couple of DVDs from the hotel's extensive library and chilled out in our room for the rest of the night before waking around 8 a.m. for a refreshing (read: long, hard slog for me, running circles around me for John) run through the Suffolk countryside followed by a hearty cooked breakfast. 

My verdict? Tuddenham Mill is definitely worth a visit in good weather, but could do with hosting some activities. It has plenty of beautiful acreage to host outdoor (or indoor) yoga classes, for example, or even an small spa area with treatments. I loved the surroundings and the whole experience, but it left me wanting a bit more. Perhaps that will come in time - and the taxi fares will come down in price as well. But I won't hold my breath. In the meantime, folks should enjoy it for what it is: a star restaurant with comfortable rooms, perfect for a mini-retreat.

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The View From The Shard (Is Amazing)

When The Shard was completed last year, I felt completely indifferent about it. At 87-storeys high, it's the tallest building in the European Union, but anytime someone asked me how I felt about it, I'd shrug my shoulders and go, "meh".

But then we moved into the eaves of a converted schoolhouse and had a terrific view of the London skyline right outside our bedroom. And here, The Shard took centerstage - glinting like a knife in the clouds, especially when the sun hit it just right. I began to accept it as an integral part of the London skyline and loved seeing its sleek, pyramidal design every morning.

Then there was the time I found myself unwittingly standing beneath it, waiting for a bus at London Bridge. Craning my neck to get a better look, I almost toppled over backwards. I had to admit it: I was in love.

I don't buy the whole, "that's a touristy, overrated thing to do, I would never go up the [insert tall structure here] just for a view of [insert city here]. I don't care how touristy or overrated views from above are - I personally love them and think it's a great way to see a city. It makes me feel more connected, if anything, to the city as a whole. Seeing the cars and lights buzzing below me at night (as we did in Bangkok and Ho Chi Minh City) makes it all the more exciting. I still take visitors to the London Eye because I think it allows for a magnificent view of East and West London.

Tickets to The Shard's two observation decks (the experience is dubbed, "The View From The Shard") are not cheap: at £29.95 per adult, I'd be reticent to shell out the dough. So imagine my excitement when, upon opening my birthday card from Tom and Cristy last year, I'd discovered that they had purchased tickets for me and John.

This summer was so busy that we didn't have a chance to go up, but knowing that sunny weather is limited in London (and I was determined to visit The Shard on a clear day), I checked the forecast this past weekend and took a risk on the earliest available Sunday morning slot, as the iPhone had promised sun.

We arrived early and grabbed a coffee at the base of the building, before picking up our tickets and going through to the elevators with just two other small families. The elevators are completely enclosed (i.e. not glass, thank goodness - I think there'd be one too many panic attacks had they been transparent) and very fast. It took us no time at all to travel up to the 33rd floor, where we disembarked and changed to another elevator, which then took us the rest of the way up to level 69.

 

When the doors opened, it was bright and all I could see were clouds. But then we stepped out into - hands down - the most amazing view I have ever had of London. You don't realize how densely packed all the buildings are until you view it from above. And for once, I felt it wasn't The Shard that was glittering and beaming at me from afar, but London - looking absolutely beautiful and proud beneath me, with its train tracks snaking out of the city for miles and red buses crawling so slowly that I could close one eye and cover them with my thumb.

I was both enchanted and awestruck - especially when John joked that our shadow loomed over London like Mordor. St. Paul's Cathedral looked particularly beautiful from such a distance and height, while I had completely forgotten how the Thames snaked around, its curves almost hiding Southbank, with only the Eye clearly visible from above. I quickly picked out St. Giles, which is not far from my office, with its bright, orange and green exterior, but Islington was much harder to pin down. 

The first observation deck has real time telescopic stations, which shows you landmarks as you pan across the horizon, as well as an explanation of each site. You can also change the view to "sunset" or "night" to get a feeling of what it would look like at different times of the day.

 

As the daughter of an architect (who spent most of her childhood bored and embarrassed while her father spent exorbitant amounts of time examining a door frame or other minute detail in very ordinary places such as the mall or at social gatherings), I was naturally fascinated by the design of the place itself. It's interesting because Level 72 (which is the highest public observation point) is partly open (but with little to no wind, as the glass panels are high enough to block this) yet enclosed, so you don't get that vertigo feeling you might experience with other similar structures that give the illusion of being more exposed. I don't know, that was just my own experience; perhaps others will feel differently.

The glass, plus the wood-paneled floors lend themselves to a very calming atmosphere, which is only emphasized by the spa-like music that is piped in to surround you (I admit to thinking at the time that what I really wanted was an infinity pool/jacuzzi and a glass of champagne - it's okay to dream at such dizzying heights, I think).

But anyway. I highly, highly recommend a visit to The Shard - whether it's for dinner or drinks at Oblix (which has just opened but doesn't seem terribly inviting) or The View experience. I have no doubt that ticket deals will soon appear in magazines like TimeOut or other websites, so if you're put off by the price, then stay tuned.

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Has Technology Helped Sustain Your LDR (Long Distance Relationship(s))?

When I woke up this morning, this video was making its rounds on the web via NPR about our "cultural addiction" to phones. Naturally, I watched it in bed with one eye open (because I wasn't even fully awake yet) with the covers halfway around my head (this is why I don't qualify for laser eye surgery - because I'm probably actively making my astigmatism worse).

But seriously. I think I'm addicted to my phone. John and I definitely do half the things the couple in that video do - and it's scary. I need to stop taking so many pictures of my life and posting them to Instagram or Facebook (though I often take them so that I can use them on this blog!).

However, I am so grateful that I own an iPhone (or just a smartphone in general). Why? Because it makes it so much easier to keep in touch with my family, who are c. 5,000 miles away and 8 hours behind. Emails and photos can be sent quickly. Real-time FaceTime conversations happen frequently.

When I get home from work, I drop my keys into our silver dish by the door, take my shoes off, fling my purse into the nearest corner, and proceed to FaceTime my mom. The call pings to my dad's iPad, which is also linked to his iPhone, so he sometimes picks up first. That's fun, because he's usually at work and then we proceed to have a short, amusing, semi-hilarious conversation about how his day is going and what I'm doing at the moment. Then I tell him not to pick up the next time I call so that my mom will pick up at home instead. When I called a few months ago, they were having landscaping done on their driveway, so my mom was able to flip the camera to show me the work that was going on in real time, as well as the different options for the outfit she wanted to wear to my wedding reception.

Because of this, I feel so much closer to them - even though they're so far away. If I prop my iPad up on the dinner table when my mom's having breakfast, it's almost as if she's sitting across from me. Sure, it's no replacement for the real thing, but we can easily chat away 2 or 3 hours at a time. Once, when John was away and I was feeling particularly homesick, I just left FaceTime on with my mom (and probably used up all our bandwidth) from the time I got home to the time I went to bed. It was comforting and we weren't even necessarily talking. Just being able to call out to her and have random conversations made everything better.

The year John and I started dating was when Skype just started to become popular. We set it up in our respective locations (me: South Hadley, Massachusetts, John: Oxford, United Kingdom) in our dorm rooms and spent hours watching movies "together", playing games "together", and even falling asleep "together". Yup, we'd leave it on while the other drifted to sleep and the connection would break in the middle of the night every time, but it was still the comfort of knowing and seeing the other person there that made all the difference. I honestly think that, hand on heart, our relationship wouldn't have survived without Skype. Or maybe it would have. But it would have been much more difficult.

What do you think? How do you use your phone or tablet or computer to keep in touch with loved ones who are far away?

p.s. snail mail is good too. I do a lot of that.

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Quotation of the Day

A few weeks ago at work, I picked up the phone to possibly the rudest woman I've ever spoken to. From the moment I said "hello" and asked how I could help, she was condescending, berating, and overly aggressive - even though I eventually managed to find out that what she wanted was a favor from me.

Though I managed to stay calm and polite throughout our 5-minute conversation (as my brother said, I had to use my "customer service voice", which was reserved for difficult customers when we both worked in retail), I hung up with my hands shaking and my face red with anger. In yoga, we practice "letting go", but for some reason, I couldn't let this one go and I found myself telling John about it that night on our way to the pub for dinner. He was sympathetic and agreed that her behavior was completely out of line. I think she was also aggravated in part by my American accent and "young" sounding voice on the other end of the line.

As we walked into The Lord Clyde on Essex Road, I sat down at the table and looked up to see this sign (above). So very apt. I laughed, and was finally able to "let go".

Isn't it true though? Work hard and be nice to people. So simple, but a pretty good motto to live by. Plus, it's so much harder to be mean than to be nice! For me, being nice doesn't take a lot of effort. The nasty woman on the phone must live a miserable existence if she's trying that hard to be mean, 24/7. 

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Tylney Hall

 

On our way back from the wedding festivities in Oxford, John had booked us all in for a night at the gorgeous Tylney Hall Hotel in Hampshire, which was somewhat on the way back to London. After negotiating some single-track country roads, we arrived to the edge of the Hall's 66-acres of parkland (yes, you read that right), where adorable rabbits nibbled away at the grass, without a care in the world about the car creeping up behind them. 

As you can see from the photo above, the rooms are nothing short of luxurious (and filled with my favorite Molton Brown products, might I add. Ahem). My parents and brother were set up in a suite overlooking the Italian garden, which is magnificent in its own right. It was then that I realized that John and I are pretty spoiled by the number of visits we've made to hotels similar to Tylney Hall; my family had never experienced anything like it (mostly because everything in the US is so modern and we don't quite have the same sprawling, English countryside!) but for us, we plan mini-breaks every couple of months or so in similar surroundings. I think a lot of people can be put off by the price tag, but to be honest, most of these hotels have really reasonable weekend or low-season rates, and if not, there are plenty of websites like hotels.com or booking.com that have terrific last minute deals, which is how I usually book my short trips.

After an amazing dinner in the formal dining room and drinks in the wood-paneled drawing room, we all had a good night's sleep in the most deliciously comfortable beds ever. If I could choose between two beds to sleep in for the rest of my life, it would have to be the one at Tylney Hall or Tuddenham Mill (which I'll blog about later). Heavenly.

The next morning, we had terrific weather, so we borrowed bikes from the concierge and explored the woodlands around the hotel, which also featured an abandoned World War II bunker - a bit creepy but cool to walk through for the WWII enthusiast in me (those of you who know me will know that I'm a huge fan of Spitfires and fascinated by the Battle of Britain).

The hotel also organized activities like archery and clay pigeon shooting (at an additional price), so I decided to book a session of clay pigeon shooting for John and Justin, because I knew they'd love it.

This is Justin in action with Brian, the instructor, who was so funny and kind - he was dressed like the quintessential country gentleman, complete with a tie that was decorated with a hunter motif and of course, a tweed cap! My mom and I were the cheerleaders, while my dad did some quick freehand sketches (his favorite activity while on vacation). The sun shone brilliantly for the first 20 minutes or so but then it poured; we all took shelter under the trees until it dried up and cheered every time the boys got a shot (Justin did especially well and beat John in the end!).

It was such a memorable mini-stay, though I wish we could have had just another day there to relax and soak up the atmosphere. I love taking my family to new places when they're visiting from the US and Tylney Hall is one that I'll never forget.

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Oh, and in the middle of all that? THIS happened.

Yup, you guessed correctly - WE MOVED AGAIN. I mean, seriously. It's beginning to feel like deja vu. I have the Friendly Movers (*love* them) and London Cleaning Team on speed dial by now. We're such loyal customers, we qualified for discounts with both companies. Sigh.

Tom's best man's speech at our Oxford wedding reception incorporated a joke about us being the most evicted couple in London - and he wasn't kidding! Every time we find a place we like, the landlord decides to sell it at the end of our lease.

The timing for our permanent house search just wasn't quite right this summer, so we decided to rent for another year or so. Luckily, we found a really sweet little place just down the road, which actually makes both of our commutes easier. Pro? We even have a tiny garden all to ourselves, where John took it upon himself to complete some DIY projects after I spotted a set of six abandoned dining rooms chairs chilling on the side of the road. Score. Con: OUR SOFA (as in, the £800 sofa we bought from Habitat just last year with made-to-order fabric and components) WILL NOT FIT THROUGH THE LIVING ROOM DOOR. It's sitting like a sad upside down elephant at the bottom of the hall until we figure out what to do with it.

I think it's a metaphor for life. Sometimes, you just can't fit that elephant of a sofa through the door because hallway's too narrow and then you have to climb over it in order to get to the bathroom but are in denial about possibly having to give it up (or live like this for the rest of the year). It's definitely a metaphor for something, right?

In any case, I'm a pro at putting together boxes now. And spending too much money on storage containers from Muji.

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The Oxford Reception: Food, Favors, and Decor

Over the course of preparing for the Oxford reception, I fretted: a LOT. I'm so glad we didn't have a "normal" or "traditional" wedding, because goodness knows what I'd be like then. This was simply intended to be a party, a get-together of sorts. But of course, I stressed out about everything - and now wish I hadn't, because everything turned out so well!

One of the things I was most worried about was the food. Although Catz has hosted numerous notable guests of honor and conferences over the years, I wasn't skeptical of the college kitchen's meal-preparing prowess. Sure, I had some enjoyable meals when I lived there, but would that work for a wedding? Thankfully, I was very much surprised. The food was AMAZING.

Here was our menu:

Starter

Salmon gravadlax with courgette muffin and creme fraiche

Buffalo mozzarella and Pesto Pastry with Tomato and Artichoke Salad (v)

Fish Course

Grilled sole fillet with Maryland crab cakes and lobster sauce

Wild Mushroom Soup (v)

Palate refresher

Lemon and Thyme Sorbet

Main Course

Beef wellington with madeira sauce

Roast Squash with Lemon-Hazelnut Risotto stuffing, Leek and Parmesan Sauce (v)

Dessert

Warm Chocolate Pudding with Praline parfait

I honestly wish I had taken more bites of my dessert! The warm chocolate pudding was divine, but it was served right before I was about to give my speech and I was so nervous that my stomach was in knots. (In case you're interested, the placecards were made from a template sold by Etsy shop owner Swell and Grand - her designs are so sophisticated and chic! I printed these on paper sold by Paperchase)

For the favors, I wanted something of a high quality, but didn't want to spend too much. The nice lady at the Charbonnel et Walker (my favorite chocolatier in the world!) headquarters kindly let slip that they were offering a 10% discount in the month of May and that I could order it then and have it delivered nearer the time of my reception. I opted for a single pink champagne truffle cased in a mini-ballotin.

At our Seattle reception, I was so busy and exhilarated that I forgot to pick up any of the beautiful Godiva favors for myself or for John (luckily, my mom saved us some!). This time, I remembered to take a favor back to my room to enjoy while I opened our lovely cards. Unfortunately, John lost out. Oops. My bad.

Finally, decorations topped my list of worries. Catz is the most modern of all Oxford colleges. Architecture fans would find it interesting and unique - haters have gone so far as to describe it as "ugly". The Junior Common Room (also known as the "JCR") was where we were planning to hold the wine reception prior to dinner, as well as the dancing afterwards. 

To make the room look "softer", I purchased 60 pom poms in varying sizes from eBay and matching streamers, and set my informal bridal party to work on the day of the reception. It took several hours and a lot of patience, but we managed to unfluff and hang all of the pom poms and streamers in the rooms, creating a lovely effect.

I highly recommend going this route if you have a lot of space to fill!

So even though we didn't have a traditional wedding, we still had a few lovely touches to see us through the evening - and now I'm a pro at unfurling pom poms.

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Sorry For The Silence ... I've Been A Little Busy

 

So, this was my view exactly one month ago: I was sitting at high table at St. Catherine's College Hall at the University of Oxford, simply trying to soak up my second wedding reception and take it all in. This was the exact place (not on high table, mind you!) where John and I met as students - nearly 9 years ago now. We followed our Seattle reception with a dinner and dancing at Catz (as it's affectionately known to students) and invited our UK-based friends and family. 

The conference managers at Catz made our special day perfect; from delivering a bottle of champagne to our room (we stayed in the halls of residence AKA staircases!) to re-creating my favorite flower arrangement (roses with peonies and hydrangeas) for the tables. The four-course banquet meal was insanely delicious and way too big in portion, but I don't think anyone was complaining!

I had been so worried that the cavernous Arne Jacobsen-designed Hall would be too hollow and impersonal for the dinner, but with all the lights dimmed and the tables set out just so, it worked perfectly well. Most of all, it was so nice to return to the place where John and I met: we were so different back then!

I was fortunate enough to have my parents and brother over as well, and I'll gradually start posting some of the amazing adventures we went on while they were here. 

I've never been "into" weddings, but I have to say that the past year has been the happiest year of my life. Just celebrating with my friends and family has been a total blast, and so surreal. I've had to pinch myself several times to be sure I wasn't dreaming.

Thank you so much to everyone who has wished us well over the last year, and everyone who joined us in Seattle and Oxford. Being an Angloyankophile isn't easy, but one of the best things about it is that I have fantastic friends all over the world. 

Love to you all.

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