Thursday, June 30, 2011
That is a sandwich!
Quick post amidst the pre-moving stress (forget China... did I mention we are moving to a new apartment this Saturday? That we'll only be in three weeks? Yeah, long story.): we made a quick outing to the glorious, glorious Eden Center in Falls Church last night. Nhu Lan's banh mi made my heart go pitter-patter. Add to that some bubble tea and an order of grilled pork to have for lunch today, and it was like being in heaven, or Saigon.
Sunday, June 26, 2011
A meander through the last two weeks
My my, where have we been...
Last weekend it was back to New York for my dear FSO friend Trishita's colorful and lively Bengali-American wedding. She looked absolutely stunning, and was actually carried into the room on a palanquin, which was crazy awesome. When reading accounts of 18th-century Dhaka in Linda Colley's fantastic book, The Ordeal of Elizabeth March, I was pretty sure I needed to find one, along with some bearers to carry me, but I never got around to it. So mad props to Trishita on figuring that one out.
The night before, we stayed in our old neighborhood of Murray Hill, wandering into a neighborhood Moroccan restaurant we were once fond of. It still had that authentically Moroccan, European-meets-Orientalist-fantasy atmosphere, and when we got there at 11:30pm, it was the only place on the block still bustling. Just the right time for a half-bottle of Moet & Chandon, a baguette aux tomates, and aches of nostalgia that threatened to really hurt.
The next night, we'd made an odyssey on two sets of commuter rail from Long Island (where the wedding was held) to New Jersey, where we hung out with my parents drinking both German and Brooklynese beer. The next day was Fathers Day, an appropriate time to go see my dear grandfather and take in a meal at my father's favorite restaurant, the ever-overwhelming Forno's of Spain in Newark (conveniently within sight of Newark Penn Station and our Amtrak train back to DC).
The week before did contain one slightly life-changing experience, which was seeing Elvis Costello in concert. I love his music but didn't get my hopes up for the concert--however, it, in a word, rocked. Definitely see him on this tour if you are at all a fan. Despite the slightly questionable decision to sing "Pump It Up" at ballad speed, it was a fabulous performance and definitely played to the fans.
What else? This week I've sort of been out of commission with a cold, but we did have a tasty Chinese dinner with some soon-departing friends at Mark's Duckhouse, as well as sneaking in a date night at Cashion's Eat Place in Adams Morgan, which we both enjoyed.
Now I have officially been putting off cleaning out my closet since I woke up at 9:30am this morning. I think it's time to clean ALL the things.
Last weekend it was back to New York for my dear FSO friend Trishita's colorful and lively Bengali-American wedding. She looked absolutely stunning, and was actually carried into the room on a palanquin, which was crazy awesome. When reading accounts of 18th-century Dhaka in Linda Colley's fantastic book, The Ordeal of Elizabeth March, I was pretty sure I needed to find one, along with some bearers to carry me, but I never got around to it. So mad props to Trishita on figuring that one out.
The night before, we stayed in our old neighborhood of Murray Hill, wandering into a neighborhood Moroccan restaurant we were once fond of. It still had that authentically Moroccan, European-meets-Orientalist-fantasy atmosphere, and when we got there at 11:30pm, it was the only place on the block still bustling. Just the right time for a half-bottle of Moet & Chandon, a baguette aux tomates, and aches of nostalgia that threatened to really hurt.
The next night, we'd made an odyssey on two sets of commuter rail from Long Island (where the wedding was held) to New Jersey, where we hung out with my parents drinking both German and Brooklynese beer. The next day was Fathers Day, an appropriate time to go see my dear grandfather and take in a meal at my father's favorite restaurant, the ever-overwhelming Forno's of Spain in Newark (conveniently within sight of Newark Penn Station and our Amtrak train back to DC).
The week before did contain one slightly life-changing experience, which was seeing Elvis Costello in concert. I love his music but didn't get my hopes up for the concert--however, it, in a word, rocked. Definitely see him on this tour if you are at all a fan. Despite the slightly questionable decision to sing "Pump It Up" at ballad speed, it was a fabulous performance and definitely played to the fans.
What else? This week I've sort of been out of commission with a cold, but we did have a tasty Chinese dinner with some soon-departing friends at Mark's Duckhouse, as well as sneaking in a date night at Cashion's Eat Place in Adams Morgan, which we both enjoyed.
Now I have officially been putting off cleaning out my closet since I woke up at 9:30am this morning. I think it's time to clean ALL the things.
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
New York, New York (and Greece)
Weekend in NYC.
One play. The Normal Heart was moving, challenging--it practically sputtered with rage--tremendously well-acted, insanely depressing. Definitely a good return to Broadway for me, considering much of the schlock out there now (though I still really want to see Book of Mormon).
One dinner with friends. Lovely friends. Plus, we always enjoy Kefi. I will never stop having a soft spot for Greek food. By the way, I randomly just found this photo from our honeymoon in Greece, and I love it, so here it is:
Two brunches. One a surprise for a friend's half-birthday (we appropriately ate half a cake), another a chance to catch up with a delightful friend. In fact, let's call it 2.5 brunches, because I also sat with Carolyn while she had brunch and I got bellini-ed up.
There is rarely time to relax these days when we're in New York, and while sometimes I miss leisurely bagel breakfasts and long walks, it definitely is wonderful to see old friends.
One play. The Normal Heart was moving, challenging--it practically sputtered with rage--tremendously well-acted, insanely depressing. Definitely a good return to Broadway for me, considering much of the schlock out there now (though I still really want to see Book of Mormon).
One dinner with friends. Lovely friends. Plus, we always enjoy Kefi. I will never stop having a soft spot for Greek food. By the way, I randomly just found this photo from our honeymoon in Greece, and I love it, so here it is:
Two brunches. One a surprise for a friend's half-birthday (we appropriately ate half a cake), another a chance to catch up with a delightful friend. In fact, let's call it 2.5 brunches, because I also sat with Carolyn while she had brunch and I got bellini-ed up.
There is rarely time to relax these days when we're in New York, and while sometimes I miss leisurely bagel breakfasts and long walks, it definitely is wonderful to see old friends.
Monday, June 6, 2011
Some culture, some food
Recently, I noticed a plaque noting a historic site had been erected in my decidedly unhistoric-looking neighborhood. It's more concrete canyon than charming cobblestone, so I was curious what exactly qualified as history.
So... apparently they pretty much, like, invented the internet one block from my apartment. No joke. So it makes it all the more ironic that the internet in our building is sometimes slower than what we had in Bangladesh. I feel like we are shaming the glorious history of Rosslyn.
Okay, and now that I look at the Wikipedia article on Arpanet, there is no link to Arlington mentioned, so now I am wondering if this is a fictional historic plaque, as in, hey, we thought it might be nice to give the neighborhood some character.
In other news--last night we made our first trip our to Wolf Trap, a national park dedicated to the performing arts, to see Gilbert and Sullivan's HMS Pinafore. It's a pretty place and we enjoyed ourselves, perhaps James more than me, as he is the Gilbert and Sullivan fan.
And lastly, forgot to mention a couple things on Boston, and of course, they are about food. Given the descriptions of dining hall chicken, this clearly wasn't a food-focused trip, but have to give a shout-out to Felipe's, the still-astoundingly-good burrito place, and The Independent, a fantastic gastropub in Somerville that Alex introduced me to--the trout was all kinds of fabulous.
So... apparently they pretty much, like, invented the internet one block from my apartment. No joke. So it makes it all the more ironic that the internet in our building is sometimes slower than what we had in Bangladesh. I feel like we are shaming the glorious history of Rosslyn.
Okay, and now that I look at the Wikipedia article on Arpanet, there is no link to Arlington mentioned, so now I am wondering if this is a fictional historic plaque, as in, hey, we thought it might be nice to give the neighborhood some character.
In other news--last night we made our first trip our to Wolf Trap, a national park dedicated to the performing arts, to see Gilbert and Sullivan's HMS Pinafore. It's a pretty place and we enjoyed ourselves, perhaps James more than me, as he is the Gilbert and Sullivan fan.
And lastly, forgot to mention a couple things on Boston, and of course, they are about food. Given the descriptions of dining hall chicken, this clearly wasn't a food-focused trip, but have to give a shout-out to Felipe's, the still-astoundingly-good burrito place, and The Independent, a fantastic gastropub in Somerville that Alex introduced me to--the trout was all kinds of fabulous.
Sunday, June 5, 2011
Traveling, doing
A loooooong break was taken, I see. I'm sorry. I had a less traumatic--indeed, positively fun--visit to Boston--or more specifically, Cambrige--last weekend, which kept me busy.
In fact, I went to my college reunion, and it was amazing. No one looked any different, and it felt like I had run into all these people at the dining hall last week (and we did re-enter the dining hall to eat the famed broccoli and cheese chicken, a Sunday brunch staple also affectionately called "Hangover Chicken." It looks like it is made of chemicals).
I loved college. Adored it. Lurved it. But I don't talk about where I went to school too often because it has a certain baggage. We all spent freshman year answering questions of where we go to school with a vague "In Boston," hoping to avoid further probing (just FYI, not answering a question is usually a bad way to avoid further probing). And I certainly don't bring it up now (though our FSNs in Dhaka often could not be stopped--they liked getting a reaction out of the schoolchildren I'd go talk to about the U.S. political system).
Feeling like the scion of a rich family who cannot escape the burden of the family name and the expectations that go with it, I was embarrassed by Harvard; it was inconvenient. But keeping this analogy going a bit, it sure was nice to go back to the family mansion and bask in its comforts. Even if the comforts included a twin extra-long bed in a cinder-block cell of Mather House (just kidding, I LOVE Mather House!), a communal bathroom, and dining hall hash browns. (Yeah, I think we all collectively decided that for the ten-year, it's time to splurge for a hotel room.)
We had a ridiculously great time, and the school kept up their end of the bargain with open bars at every event, from brunch to field day to multiple prom-like tented-dance-floor parties. Sadly, James couldn't make it (especially sad since we met in college and we both belong to the same class) due to his brother's college graduation (though, you know, that's important too :)).
But I got back to FSI and realized, oh good gracious, where has the time gone? It feels like departure is imminent--in 2.5 weeks that I know will FLY BY, it will be one month away. (I have a count-down the count-down.) How crazy is THAT???
In fact, I went to my college reunion, and it was amazing. No one looked any different, and it felt like I had run into all these people at the dining hall last week (and we did re-enter the dining hall to eat the famed broccoli and cheese chicken, a Sunday brunch staple also affectionately called "Hangover Chicken." It looks like it is made of chemicals).
I loved college. Adored it. Lurved it. But I don't talk about where I went to school too often because it has a certain baggage. We all spent freshman year answering questions of where we go to school with a vague "In Boston," hoping to avoid further probing (just FYI, not answering a question is usually a bad way to avoid further probing). And I certainly don't bring it up now (though our FSNs in Dhaka often could not be stopped--they liked getting a reaction out of the schoolchildren I'd go talk to about the U.S. political system).
Feeling like the scion of a rich family who cannot escape the burden of the family name and the expectations that go with it, I was embarrassed by Harvard; it was inconvenient. But keeping this analogy going a bit, it sure was nice to go back to the family mansion and bask in its comforts. Even if the comforts included a twin extra-long bed in a cinder-block cell of Mather House (just kidding, I LOVE Mather House!), a communal bathroom, and dining hall hash browns. (Yeah, I think we all collectively decided that for the ten-year, it's time to splurge for a hotel room.)
We had a ridiculously great time, and the school kept up their end of the bargain with open bars at every event, from brunch to field day to multiple prom-like tented-dance-floor parties. Sadly, James couldn't make it (especially sad since we met in college and we both belong to the same class) due to his brother's college graduation (though, you know, that's important too :)).
But I got back to FSI and realized, oh good gracious, where has the time gone? It feels like departure is imminent--in 2.5 weeks that I know will FLY BY, it will be one month away. (I have a count-down the count-down.) How crazy is THAT???
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