Here is a collection of some of my favorite food moments, just to make you hungry!
I’ve been a bit of a failure at updating ALREADY. I’m sorry. My new job has taken over (not really) and exhausted me beyond belief (actually true). So here are some quick tidbits about my life now.
I have to climb out of a hole to get anywhere. Truly, our home is at the bottom of four different GIANT hills and I am constantly out-of-breath going anywhere: the bus stop, the gas station, the local bar, etc! When I get to the top, though, I can see far out to the Cascade mountains and it really just takes what little breath I have left away. Pictures can never capture it so I’m sorry you’ll just have to visit to see!
I have forgotten how to drink water. I have no desire to drink any water whatsover which is the WEIRDEST thing, as I could finish about three 32 oz bobbles a day back in Jersey.
I have gone on a run once and it was 1.5 miles downhill and then 1.6 miles back uphill. I actually gained 200 ft in elevation in less than a mile. Phew. I now feel like training for a marathon is possible. A really, really flat marathon.
I experienced my first Seattle rain, while waiting for the bus with close to fifty pounds of groceries hanging out on my shoulders.
I have supervised and assisted in the making of 1,000 organic local canned goods. Yes!
EVERY SINGLE BUS DRIVER HAS TOLD ME TO HAVE A REALLY NICE DAY. People, you are so friendly, it confuses me. Keep it up.
I have been to Pike’s place twice.
I have made three friends.
And now I must sleep. I leave for work extra early…6am!
Hi World. I’ve been a bit lacking on the adventurous side of my blog. For that I’m sorry. Give me dollars to go places and I will wow you on here with stories of them ;). But in the meantime, while you’re writing that check, check out Fran’s blog. Fran and I WWOOFed together in Italy, and she is one of my favorite people who just happens to be doing awesome adventurous things and eating lots of good food while doing them.
Like cycling from the UK to Romania following the Danube, and perhaps onwards. Follow her blog for tidbits from her travels, pictures of the great food she eats, and general awe of a young woman cycling solo 3000 km. Maybe a little bike ride commuting to work now and again won’t seem so hard, eh?
We arrived, by bus, in Seattle around noon. Unable to check into our hotel, we hit up Top Pot donuts, as recommended by my brother, Matt, who also happened to be in Seattle. This is where the donut binge begins. I just noticed begin and binge have the same exact letters. Coincidence? I think not. We enjoyed a Maple Bar and two lattes with rice milk. Yum. The coffee and donuts were fresh and so so so good after getting off that bus. You can stand in the back of Top Pot and watch them knead the dough. Awesome. Any time I go to a place like this I’m like, “I want to work here! I want to learn to make delicious yeast risen blob donuts yum!” Because I have a problem and that is being obsessed with food.
Michael has been to Seattle probably like ten times via the job so he took me on a tour of all the things he wanted me to see. The Pike Place market, the OG Starbucks, the gum wall, etc.
We met up with Matt and Sabrina for dinner at this amazing Italian place Sabrina picked out called the Pink Door. Yes, it’s door is actually pink – it’s only indicator of the restaurant as there is no signage. Whew! What an amazing dinner we had with some of my favorite company :). After dinner we wandered the city a bit, popping in and out of different bars for drinks, and ended our night at the Five Point Cafe for a little diner food. Yum, this place is great! And we got an awesome night view of the Needle!
Thursday we slept late. Like, later than I would ever sleep on an exploring vacation. Woops. No problem, we headed off to the EMP Museum to check out their new Nirvana exhibit. If you love music like we love music, you have got to go to this museum. Their exhibits are really cool, and there is an entire room where you can interact with different instruments. You can learn to play them, or go into a recording room and record a song. It’s AWESOME. And the Nirvana exhibit was pretty amazing.
We walked to the Space Needle, which is like right next to the museum, and debated paying good dollars to go up in it and decided against it. Thought about going to see the Chihuly exhibit but decided against that as well. We followed Matt’s recommendations and headed down to the pier to walk around and ride the giant ferris wheel instead. WORTH IT.
Michael then took me to get his favorites snacks in the city. This included: a vegetable piroshky from Piroshky Piroshky in Pike Place (really delicious fillings folded and baked inside a buttery-fluffy roll); a SALTED CARAMEL and coffee ice cream cone at Cupcake Royale; and macarons, which aren’t really his favorite but I found them and you all KNOW how I feel about macarons.
We met up with Sabrina for sushi at Umi Sake House. Can I just say, that this place has the best sushi I HAVE EVER EATEN. We ate at Morimoto in Philly recently, and while their sushi/sashimi was a force to be reckoned with, Umi’s rolls are just creative. Spicy and sweet with amazing flavors INCLUDING blood orange and cilantro. So so so good, and thank you Kelly for the recommendation. The Moonraker roll was phenomenal. Ok. Rave over.
Friday morning we ate breakfast at Serious Biscuit which serves, you guessed it, biscuit involved items. Frittata, fried chicken, fried catfish, PB and banana, egg and cheese. Again, amazing food. Another place I was like “Think of all the biscuitty goodness and crazy arugula combinations I could make working here!!”. Then we spent some time in Green Lake – a neighborhood MDK frequently stays in while in Seattle. It’s a cute area, filled with a lot of college kids from the U of W. There’s a lake with a nice path around it, so we walked off our breakfast, or at least tried. Then, because we are gluttons, we ate at Mighty-O donuts. Yes. More donuts. Mighty-O happens to make cake donuts, which, let’s face it, I totally love. I had the Raspberry Riot and MDK got the French Toast, and then we were given a free mini Coco loco donut. Really. As if we hadn’t consumed enough donutty goodness. Good thing we were about to get in the car to sit for five hours for the drive to Portland!
In classic me fashion, I’m updating about a trip three days before going on another one. My apologies. Awhile ago I took a short but lovely trip to the Pacific Northwest. It happened to be great timing – Michael was in Asia and could meet me there for a week, flights were cheap, and friends were plenty.
I had never been to the Northwest before, but I just had this inkling that it would be a place I would fall in love with. I like drizzly rain and gray days (the perfect running weather!). I love the mountains and craggly shores. I thoroughly enjoy Canadian accents, coffee is something I drink every day, and microbreweries are as common as Wawas. Plus, I’m pretty happy eating local sustainable food. What could be better?
The answer to that question is DONUTS. Donuts make it better. I’m a Dunkin’ Donuts once in awhile kinda gal, but I’m never too crazy over a donut. They are what they are: fat and sometimes stale circles of sugar!sugar!sugar!CRASH. Well in the Northwest they are fluffy yeast risen blobs of dough, glazed with things as simple as chocolate and as gimicky as lemon poppy seed. So while I post about each city we visited, I’ll have to also discuss the donuts we ate there. And we ate A LOT of donuts.
I arrived in Vancouver on a Sunny Sunday afternoon, and headed to our friends’ house in the East Hastings neighborhood. Matt, Charlie (the cat) and Landon live in the top floor of a house, across the street from warehouses where they shoot films and television series that belong on channels like the CW. We witnessed one such filming for a show, which I believe is called Arrow, while sitting on the stoop drinking the Canadian version of PBR. It was windy and cold but we had the perfect view of the downtown skyline. That was on Monday though.
On Sunday, Matt and I headed to the Commercial Drive neighborhood in east Vancouver and nommed at the Dime – a new pub/restaurant offering all food items for $4.95 (Canadian dollars, of course). For $4.95 I got an amazing veggie burger with all of the fixings, including avocado slices, and a side of fries. I know it sounds suspicious. And I expected the burger and fries to be miniscule, but it was absolutely quality. I couldn’t even finish it all! Add a few OK Springs 1516 Bavarian Lagers and I was an estatic tourist. Not to mention the Caesar I had, which is a Canadian version of a Bloody Mary. Why is it called a Caesar? No idea. It’s made with clamato (clam+tomato) juice instead of plain V8.
We walked around the Commercial Drive neighborhood, picked up some sweet corn from a man selling it out of his van, and headed back to the house to meet up with Landon. Jet lagged I promptly went to bed at 9:30.
The next day I explored downtown Vancouver by taking the bus all the way down East Hastings to West Hastings. My favorite way to discover a city is to walk it with a map in my back pocket. I’ll go until I’m pretty lost and then find my way back. My goals that Monday were to eat some food truck snacks, check out the Granville Island Market, and walk through as many neighborhoods as possible.
When I got off at West Hastings and Burrard, I decided to hunt down the Fresh, Local, Wild Food truck. When asked what I wanted to order, I took a page from Michael’s book and asked the guy what his favorite was: Salmon Fish and Chips. His description of “There’s just something about it that I can’t get enough of…” sold me, so that’s what I ordered. So. Happy. I. Listened. I’m not a big fried food person, quite frankly it usually makes me sick, but the batter was lighter than expected and you could tell the oil was fresh AND at the right temperature. (The things you learn working on a pizza truck!)
I walked off my lunch by heading down Burrard street and crossed the bridge into Seaforth Peace Park. It was a beautiful walk – the mountains peeking (or peaking, heh heh heh) just outside of West Vancouver and over the English bay is a breathtaking sight. The mountains in the distance paired with the bobbing boats reminded me a bit of Oban, Scotland, where the picture at the top of my blog is from.
Anyway, I decided to go Granville Island to check out the market since I’m a market fiend and Grammy recommended it, and discovered there’s a bunch of little shops and eateries surrounding the market as well. I quickly lost track of time perusing the shops and gazing at heaps of fresh local fruit and veggies in the market.
I picked up Michael from the airport and we did the beer/CW/citysites thing for a bit before we headed to Landon’s place of work: Foundation. It’s a vegetarian “lounge” in the Mount Pleasant neighborhood that serves awesome veg fare and tasty brews in mason jars. They’re known for their nachos, which cost $18 and come out on a plate twice the size of my torso, with ALL of the works: sour cream, salsa, guac, jalapenos, and whatever the special is that night, if you request it. After looking into the reviews of Foundation, apparently people aren’t thrilled with the service. And maybe if we were rushing in to eat and then bust a move, the service would be considered slow. But I think it’s known as a lounge for a reason, and that reason is that it’s a casual place run by casual people who aren’t interested in rushing you out the door so they can get another table for another tip. The food was great and we were there for the long haul to catch up with old friends, so yea. But if you’re the type of person to freak out over not receiving your water within two minutes of entering a joint, you probably shouldn’t eat here.
Tuesday Michael and I headed to Lynn Canyon park to check out the suspension bridge and do a short hike. It’s about a fifteen minute drive North of the city and worth it if you’re a big nature person. It was cold, but beautiful up there, and I thoroughly enjoyed the crazy crystal clear water we came upon with a tiny little water fall. I SLICED MY FINGER OPEN on the suspension bridge railing and so we had to hunt for a band-aid. The forest rangers office gave me a plastic, which is what they’re called outside of American (which I clearly forgot), and we called it quits.
We headed back to the city for the afternoon, so I could show Michael the Granville Island bit. We walked around the city for awhile before deciding a nap was CRUCIAL if we were going to make it into the evening festivities. I ate poutine for dinner, which, ew. I think I need a second experience with poutine because while it was good, it made me feel awful. We went back to the Dime that night for some more catch-up with friends and exhaustedly made it an early night – our bus to Seattle left the airport at 8:30 am the next day. We said our goodbyes and passed out.
Wednesday morning had us up at 6am to catch our bus. It was a pretty great way to travel, and customs weren’t much of a hassle. Next up, SEATTLE!
Phew! I know this follow-up is a bit late, but let me tell you that I am the WORST. If you hadn’t already guessed that at least. I go on a trip and then I start right back into work and work and sleep and I pay very little attention to the internet world.
The Appalachian Trail. Yikes. Props to everyone and anyone who has done a segment or the whole thing through. I have decided to just give you a day-by-day type play since it’s the easiest way to explain our trip. Also please forgive any editing/POV/tense issues. I’ll resolve all of it, I just want to get it out there first!
Michael and I drove out to Boiling Springs, Pennsylvania to meet up with our driver, also named Michael. We met up at the trailhead parking lot there in Boiling Springs and caught a ride with him to the Caledonia trail-head thirty-some miles south-west. MDK and our driver bonded over folk music (Michael two is a folk musician and MDK worked for Folkway Records in DC) and then moved on to what kind of wildlife we would find on the trail, and if a ‘bear hang’ was truly necessary. We arrived at the trailhead around noon, said our goodbyes to our driver (who was prepared to come get us at the drop of a hat, if we experienced any trouble) and stepped onto the trail.
The air was cooler once we stepped inside the trees and as we appreciated the hush of our clodhopper boots hitting the soft pine needle trail, a bug flew into Michael’s eye. I could still hear the semi’s flying by on the highway and already we had a crisis. It will never cease to amaze me how weird people can be about their eyeballs. I know I feel this way because I wear contacts and have habitually touched my eyeballs and moved things around on them for over twelve years. But still, to break out in a sweat over the simple IDEA of touching just your EYELID. COME ON! I kept asking a panicked MDK to hold out his eyelid and blink. Couldn’t do it. He kept asking me to wipe the little bug out with my finger but would become so agitated at me approaching his eye I couldn’t get it before he started bugging out (pun intended). It finally ended up in the inner corner of his eye and after several attempts at swiping it away but only hitting his cheek, I finally was able to get it out. Poor guy. No, I do not mind touching my eyeballs. Yes, gnat’s squirming around your eyelid is discomforting.
By quarter to one, we were actually on our way following the white blazes, hoping to get in about ten miles before crashing for the night. The first mile seemed pretty mild and then we hit a super steady up-hill climb. Man-made gravel stairs two feet high led us up to a ridge we followed for a while. The sky became overcast and MDK, using his super-fancy awesome watch, predicted rain. Not long after that prediction, it began. We both pulled on rain gear and put the duck covers on our packs and kept on. After hitting a mile-marker we realized we were traveling about two and a half miles per hour which would put us at our first shelter by six. The rain falling quietly around us, chatter slowed and our heart rates picked up. We were getting tired so we were walking fast-paced, thinking the shelter would be just around the next bend. Or the next one. Or the next one? Please the next one! Our feet were exhausted, we were hungry, and out of water.
Finally we hit the shelter and found another group there as well. They showed us the water source and we hung up our things hoping they would find time to dry underneath the porch roof. Keith and his daughter were from PA and had hiked several parts of the trail before. Keith had, anyway. He asked us if we were considering a through-hike, which felt like a compliment but might have been more of a “your young, you could do it much easier than I” type thing. He became a life-saver when we realized our gas canister had a threaded neck, meaning the stove we brought for it wouldn’t pop on. (Let me also say that I had practiced at home with this borrowed stove several times to make sure I knew what was going on, but didn’t realize the subtle difference between the two gas canisters.) Quickly we realized we packed about five to eight pounds more than we needed to with a useless stove, gas canister, food we couldn’t cook, a sleeping mat we would use, etc. THAT PESTO CAME IN HANDY THOUGH!! We ate dinner (pasta & pesto & tuna) and then promptly climbed into the shelter and passed out.
Day Two. Part One.
I now understood the phrase “A fitful night’s sleep”. Sleep was……possible at best. No time to dwell though, we were prepared for an eighteen mile day and needed to accomplish it before night fall. Our goal was to hit Pine Grove Furnace by noon to put us at two and a half to three miles per hour. The first few hours were like frolicking through a wood! The trail was still covered with those forgiving pine needles and the sun was shining. We passed through the ‘half-way point’ marking 1,092 miles down and 1,092 miles to go for through hikers. We saw a snake: Michael stepped right over it not knowing. Toward the end of our morning hike, we hit a jungle-like section where you couldn’t even see the trail you were walking on, it was so covered in wild vines. I started hearing children laughing and dogs barking which fooled me into thinking we would be close to our halfway point, which promised ice cream. Unfortunately, (or fortunately depending which way you were going) Pine Grove Furnace is a campground that offers several hiking trails, which meant the dogs and other voices did not indicate ice cream, but families on a day hike to Sunset Rocks. In another hour plus we finally reached Pine Grove Furnace and the general store. Full of bikers on a Sunny Saturday day ride. We ate a grilled cheese, drank a coke (the only time I ever want a soda is when I’m super fatigued and it’s only a coke that will bring me back!), ate two whopping cones of ice cream, and let a tear slip down our cheeks when we put the packs back on.
A brief but necessary interlude: Things you resent your pack for-
- Digging into your hips where the hip strap is, so that in front and back you have bruises
- Feeling impossible to put on after taking it off for longer than it takes to simply adjust straps
- How exact the ties must be for least pain possible. Shoulder straps, hip straps, top pack straps – all must be redone each and every time the pack comes off. As if getting it back on weren’t hard enough!
- Climbing steep rocks while balancing the weight on your back. Scary.
- How sweaty the clothing between you and the pack gets and never seems to dry completely. How itchy that can make everything.
Day Two. Part Two.
Our path out of Pine Grove Furnace led us up a steady incline for about three miles. Am I exaggerating? Was it more like two? It could have been, but that incline seemed never-ending at the time. Unless I’m on a bike, I always prefer a higher grade: steep but short is my motto! We had to hike eight to ten miles to the next shelter, and the first few were giving me some problems for sure. The path also became increasingly more hazardous. There were small rocks embedded in the path, which meant a lot of our energy was spent looking down at where you were stepping so you wouldn’t eat it. This only became worse the further we trudged. Every time we passed a sign for the next shelter, it seemed to leave out the one we were currently headed for, so we had no clue as to how many miles we had left. We could only guess based on our mph from earlier in the day, and that wasn’t spot on because it was much slower going with all of the rocks.
Once again, we ran out of water. We hit a spring thirty minutes later, thank goodness. MDK made a lovely little trek to the bottom of a hill (“Please please please do not make me go down that hill I do not think I will come back up!”) to refill our camelbaks and water bottles. On we went. It started to get dark. I started to get hysterical. We finally hit a sign that indicated there was something 0.4 miles off the trail. It was not clear if it was a shelter. Lucky for us, it was!
We met Larry, a knowledgeable man from Moorestown who was on a seven-day solo hike. The world is such a small place, we knew many of the same people. Furthermore, MDK and I had spent the day asking questions about the AT we knew neither of us had the answer to and buono fortuna brought us Larry. He presided on the Conservation Board for many years in the nineties, I think. Could have been the eighties. Either way. He was able to provide a plethora of information, including the tidbit that the Pennsy section of the AT is notoriously the hardest. For many reasons, (people can’t handle they are only half-way, it’s not as scenic with views of beautiful peaks and valleys,etc) but the one I found most important was that it is the rockiest. “It is where hiking boots go to die,” said Larry. Apparently, most through-hikers that end up quitting, do so in Pennsylvania. Another helpful tidbit, was his camping stove. A whitebox stove, which is a bit of a cult classic among hikers, might be the coolest thing I’ve ever seen. I cannot even describe it, except to say that I am buying one and saying ‘farewell’ to any grand ideas of fancy snap together stoves or jetboils. I am probably forgetting all of the other awesome things that Larry taught us (there were many) but we were so exhausted we pitched the tent, ate Clif bars dipped in peanut-butter, and passed out.
We did it. We hiked eighteen miles in one day. But Sunday was a brand new day with another ten for us to get done to get back to Boiling Springs. Luckily, Larry started us off with some Via coffee made fresh from his WHITEBOX STOVE. What a guy, that Larry. So thankful to him! He also showed us a map of what we would be hiking that day and pointed out elevations, mileage, and springs so we were well-prepared. Our camelbaks full of water and our stomachs filled with coffee we started off. We were to climb and descend five ridges. They were STEEP! By the third we had to navigate some giant boulders, which the path cut directly through. Why put the path through the rocks when there is a perfectly good pine needle-ish path ten yards to the right? To prevent erosion. The more people who walk off of the trail, the more likely water is to follow the slight grooves you made which makes soil erosion inevitable. I can’t say much more about our day except that we went up up up and down down down.
On what we thought was the last peak, we ran into a few others who told us we had ‘just one more’ and Boiling Springs might be another hour or so. We ascended and descended the last peak, and followed the path into a….cornfield? I do not know why, but I never thought the AT would cut through cornfields. Or any farm fields. I mean, it has to if it goes through the state of Pennsy but it just never occurred to me. This is where it got tricky. Yes, we were now dealing with bucolic fields, but WHERE DO THEY PUT THE WHITE BLAZES? We ended up lost. In a situation, that were we not so exhausted, we might have avoided. I was almost in tears. My feet HURT, my legs were tired, there was no sight of anything resembling the small town of Boiling Springs, and WHY DID WE WALK SO FAR WITHOUT LOOKING FOR A BLAZE? I climbed five peaks that day and a farm field got me? We turned around, despite my cries of “Michael just go find the car and come pick me up!” and eventually found the path, parallel to the one we had been walking. It was literally on the other side of the field that we were on. And suddenly, bam, we were in the parking lot looking at my car.
In desperate want of coffee, we stopped at an awful truck stop off of I-276. You know the kind, Burger King, Starbucks, Roy Rogers, weird state paraphernalia you think no one could possibly want, and total weirdos. Well, this time, we were those weirdos. We smelled, we were dirty, and totally crazy-eyed. People in the line at Starbucks (I know, we were desperate) stepped away from us. Women in the bathroom watched in disgust as I washed my face and took a paper-towel bath. Michael and I cackled our way back to the car.
Back at the ranch we ordered obscene amounts of Indian takeout, watched TV and promptly ended our adventure, asleep at 8pm.
This trip was made possible by: Michael Two, Ruth, Andrew, Laurie, Alan, Cynthia, and Don. Thanks for all of the equipment lends, recommendations, and encouragement! MDK, thanks for being such a trooper. That last half-hour was a mean kindergarten teacher but you helped me get over it! Can’t wait for next time.
I know, it’s terrible, I’ve been gone for far too long! I feel like posting here will just be a sham of my former self, but life is constantly changing and I have too much to do because of it! I won’t make excuses, I’ll just let you know that instead of emailing friends that I HAVE TO EMAIL, I am providing an update post!
I have had quite the summer – working, crepe-ing, cooking, running, traveling. Do I wish I had done more? Yes. Do I think I could have with my schedule as is? No. You make time for what you can. This is why, this weekend, which happens to be my last weekend off from crepe-ing for the next month or so, Michael and I are heading off for our first experience with The Appalachian Trail.
For years we’ve discussed it. It’s been announced in passing conversations. I have heard many others repeat the phrase: “I would love to do The Appalachian Trail.” The Appalachian Trail. Capitalized and bold. That’s the way it comes off of others’ lips. And have you noticed, it is always “do” and not “hike”. We’re going to DO The Appalachian Trail. Well we are.
At least a small portion, anyway. When Michael purchased his serious backpack during our last minute stopover in London in May, his one request was that we do part of the AT this summer, like we had been promising. I said, “Of course, we’ll definitely do that!” Little did we know, our weekends were already booked up through September.
This weekend I had plans to do many other things. A pig roast. A quick visit to Michigan to see my dearest Nadia who is off to Morocco (what is with that country and it stealing of all of my favorites, anyway?) in September. A visit to DC.
Well, none of that is happening now. Now we will DO the AT. Plus, it’s probably easier for me to see Nadia in Morocco anyway.
Today I am packing all of my stuff. I say ‘all’ like it’s a lot of things, but really, I’m taking practically nothing. And still I think others’ will have packed lighter. I’ve done a bit of reading and some organizing and I think the hardest part of this entire weekend, will be my inability to eat simple yet gourmet type food. I’m a foodie, it is kind of what I live for.
I know it sounds crazy, but even when Michael and I spent a few days camping in the Adirondack mountains, we cooked gourmet over our fire. Fresh local veggies served over cottage potatoes with Blueberry Saranac beers.
Obviously we won’t have beers, but I at least thought I should bring some veggies for our first day, if not the whole trip. Nay. All of the food lists I’ve read for this trip say to pack highly nutritious food with a large amount of calories per ounce. Essentially, 125-150 calories per ounce. So all vegetables are pretty much out of the picture. They are extra weight and will not meet our caloric needs.
I finally realized that my dreams of a repeat of the campfire risotto in PR in February were looking pretty slim. There won’t be any Medallas, or cheese, or 5 bean stew. It’s going to be oats for breakfast; tuna and crackers for lunch; pasta for dinner. Clif bars for snacks. Looking at my list made me a bit sad, and in a moment of rebellion, I texted Cynthia to pick me up some pesto in a jar. Does said jar of pesto weigh half a pound and is that half a pound we’ll have to carry? Yes. But will half of that jar be empty after one evening’s meal? Yes. Sometimes you just have to look at the glass and appreciate that it’s half-empty.
In addition, I chopped up a bunch of dried apricots and made us a little dried fruit/nut medley to go into the oats. TAKE THAT THRU HIKERS! They may be professional backpackers, but I am a professional eater, and at the end of the day, I’m OK with that distinction.
So wish us luck, I’ll post some pictures of the trip and the noms when we get back!
HELLO INTERNET WORLD!
It’s been a minute. Our trip to Morocco simply FLEW BY and I had a post all set up to discuss our time there, but now, two weeks later, it seems irrelevant. It’s anything but irrelevant as I finally had the chance to make sure Morocco was treating my number one right, and I can report, she’s doing great. A little bit tanner than when I last saw her, but hey, she lives in the desert!
I will post about Morocco. I promise. It’s coming shortly. Also, I have so many pictures, that if you want to see them all you’ll have to email me for the link to our picasa page (email@example.com). I tried to email as many of you as I could, but for many I just don’t have the address. So either email me or send a comment with your email address.
But for now, I wanted to check-in and give a shout out to Jammin’ Crepes my new place of employment two days a week. At the moment, we are a stand/tent/fort that offers sweet and savory crepes featuring local fresh ingredients. Come check us out, we are the most delicious and unique crepes I’ve ever had, and I’m not saying that because I get paid to. I also once worked at a chain restaurant and I never recommended people go there. Anyway, the point is, these are worth the trip & the line.
Hope everyone out there enjoyed what a beautiful day it was today!
In a small town outside of Marrakech, spending time with several PCVs and an amazing Moroccan host family. Had our first traditional meal with the host family – dijaj or chicken with freshly baked bread and a rice salad. It was really lovely. Too exhausted to explain more, eventually will though!
Exhausting. And full of Moroccans that speak English which you think would be great but trust me when I say it’s not. Anyway, we just had some awesome food: crepes and fruit juice. We might try to find the old palace, we might not. It all depends on our energy :). Here’s us at a bab or door/gate to the city: