Honey and
a food journal

Monday, 12 February 2018

A Day at Hunter Mountain

Living in New York isn't easy, but there are many benefits. One of them (for us ski-lovers): being able to escape for a day in the mountains. Last year, we didn't perfect the ski day trip, but this year, we think we've got it right.

Our tips:

1. Don't take the ski bus. It's a super early start and then you take a stupid route through Manhattan so it takes forever. By the time you get there the queues are terrible and you won't be skiing until late morning (last year we weren't skiing until after 11am having caught the bus at 6am). It will also take a painful amount of time to take home (over 4 hours, with a journey that went through Times Square). Instead, rent a car, or better yet, borrow a friend's (thanks G!).

2. Get up early. Yes, our Saturday morning alarm went at 5:15. But we made it from Brooklyn over the George Washington Bridge in 25 minutes. And we were on the slopes by 9am.

3. Bring your own lunch. Hunter Mountain isn't a culinary hotspot. And it isn't super cheap either.

4. Ski early to early. It only gets busier as the day goes on, and the snow gets worse too. Plus, after the 5am alarm, you'll be exhausted by 3pm.

5. Stop at Phoenicia Diner on your way home. It's 10 minutes out of your way and those pancakes are worth driving far more than 10 minutes for.

6. Order the pancakes at Phoenicia Diner. Plus whatever else you fancy. But don't forget the pancakes.

7. Get a good playlist ready for the drive home. It won't be as smooth as your journey out.

One more close-up of those pancakes. Just because.

Friday, 26 January 2018

27th Birthday Weekend

Since we moved abroad, I struggle with my birthday. In the darkest depths of January my mood is typically at a low, and this day is filled with work (always stressful on this day, always, no exceptions), cold, and a longing to be celebrating at home with the rest of my family. This year, B took it upon himself to boost my mood and spoil me, which I will be ever-grateful for.

The weekend before we ate everything bagels, went to members' early hours at MoMA to admire the amazing work of Louise Bourgeois, and soak up the sun of the empty Manhattan Streets (9am on a Saturday is the best time to go to Midtown). I ran a half-marathon in my fastest time on the most beautiful morning in Central Park, and Seb cheered my the whole way round. We feasted on pie at Four & Twenty Blackbirds, ate just-what-we-needed tacos at Oaxaca Taqueria, and melted our tongues and faces with the most amazing, but absolute spiciest dinner at Ugly Baby

The day itself was 24 hours of highs and lows. A wet and windy run was rewarded with a Green Kitchen Stories upside-down apple-pie-smoothie-granola creation which was bonkers and beautiful. The work day pushed me to my limits of patience, strength, and energy. But B turned the evening around with a bottle of Billecart-Salmon (after the day I'd had that bottle didn't last long), perfect ricotta and tomato pasta from Rachel Roddy's latest book, and, of course, the ever-famous Molly Yeh's funfetti cake (Yes, he baked for me. It's love.). So, this is 27. We're off to a rocky start, but it's going to move up from here with change, adventures, laughter, more running, and even more food.

This wasn't from this year! This is mum at my age and me at 5 months!

Sunday, 14 January 2018

December in London

We headed straight to London when we landed back home. A few festive, food-, family-, and friend-filled days were ours for the taking (with some work interspersed between meals). Our favorites included the prettiest curries and Indian snacks at Kricket, cacio e pepe at Padella (always), Emily Young's striking stone sculptures at St James' Piccadilly, post-flight fuel at Shawarma Bar, the Christmas windows at Ralph Lauren, a weekday lunch break at Oldroyd, an afternoon at my forever favorite Violet, breakfast at Pavilion Café, and a quick stop for doughnuts at Bread Ahead before the train home.

Slotting back into London life is almost scarily easy. Everything fits together seamlessly, we feel totally at home, connected to the people, and have even started to appreciate the monotonous weather. Back in NYC I miss London's grey warmth, the people who sound more like me, and my most loved places: this London love is never going away.

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