Pink velvet cake anyone?  Exactly a week ago, I issued myself a sugar challenge –  no processed sugar, no soy lattes, and a limit on my alcohol consumption.  I was going strong for a few days, and then, I broke the alcohol rule.  I had three alcoholic drinks on Friday night, and believe me, I got a little creative with that math.  Sharing a bottle of wine with a couple of friends counts as one drink, right?  That is what I thought.  However, I will admit that since that fateful night, my sugar detox has taken a little bit of a tailspin.  I haven’t completely fallen off the bandwagon, but I have slipped up and cheated more than a couple of times.

However, what I want to talk about today is my cravings.  I have honestly been so amazed how powerful my cravings for sugar have been.  The other day I was at my new favorite restaurant, Le Pain Quotidien, and I wanted a soy mocha really, really, really badly.  I was engaged in a full-on assault with my self-control, and even when I got coffee, I relented and put one cube of sugar in it.  I knew that cutting out sugar wouldn’t be easy, but I thought once I made it through the first fews day, I would be good to go; I had no idea it would be so difficult.  I have started to resent my daily green tea at Starbucks, and I have given up drinking black coffee and shamelessly add one cube of sugar to every cup.

However, every time I get a craving, I try to take a step back and ask myself why.  Why do I need chocolate at the end of a meal?  What about a soy latte makes me so damn happy?  What emotions am I feeling when I crave these foods?  Do I want to these certain food because it is a habit, or do I have an emotional attachment to these “treats?”  I don’t really have to ask myself why I need a cube of sugar in my coffee; coffee without sugar or milk is just unpleasant, but aside from that, I don’t really have the answers. Yet, while sugar and I are on a temporary hiatus, I am trying to scrutinize and understand my tumultuous relationship with sugar a little better.

As I said last week, I don’t mean for this to be a period of deprivation or punishment.  It has been really interesting to observe how my attempt to cut out sugar has effected me.  I shouldn’t feel like giving up soy mocha for two weeks is the end for the world, and  I want to be able to enjoy sugar without feeling like I need my fix on a daily basis.  On a move positive note, I think I am finally over the initial hump.  I ate at Le Pain Quotidien again tonight, and I didn’t think I was going to die without my soy latte.  Small steps folks, small steps.

However, I did go to Camden Town on Friday.  It is a funky little neighborhood in London that reminded me a little too much of Seattle. Here are some of my favorite pictures.  Please note it looks like a dog is driving a car in the first picture. Awesome, yes?

Happy Tuesday Friends!

Yes, I totally put my feet in a tub of water and let fish eat the dead skin off my feet.  It was weird, creepy, and a little gross, and I totally freaked out.  Can you tell?

In retrospect, I have no idea what I was thinking.  But, at the same time I know exactly what I was thinking.  I have spent a lot of my life avoiding things that were outside my comfort zone, and this tendency has held me back from a lot in my life. So, when someone offered to pay to have me stick my feet in a vat of possibly unclean water and let fish flock to and suck on my feet, I really had no reason to say no.  It  may not seem like much, but for me, these things are really symbolic – having fish eat my feet for dinner is something I never would have done in my past life.  So, this weekend, if you have choice between staying in your comfort zone and branching out, do it right – expand your horizons.  It might go badly.  I am not about to tell you I enjoyed what felt like bugs crawling all over my feet for six minutes, but it sure as hell made my day more memorable.  I wish I could say this more eloquently, but life is made up experiences, short and long, good and bad, and if we aren’t open to new things, new ideas, and new opportunities, life can get a little boring, and I think we can all benefit from a little more fun in our lives.  Cheers to the weekend and life.

All the recent articles about whether sugar should be regulated has got me thinking about my relationship with sugar.  I love sugar.  My enormous sweet tooth has plagued me for long as I remember.  I remember sneaking icing from the refrigerator as a child, devouring a well-deserved snickers bar on family ski trips, and hoarding those warm, gooey chocolate chip cookies in high school.  However, one of the turning points in my weight loss journey revolved around reducing my sugar consumption.  When I was in undergrad, my boyfriend at-the-time and I enjoyed a lot of activities that revolved around food.  There was chocolate cake from Boston Market, and cheesecake from the Cheesecake Factory amongst other things, so when he suggested we implement a one-dessert-per-week rule, I was skeptical, but it was something we could do together while living 2,000 miles apart, so I agreed.

Within a week, I had lost more than ten pounds.  I didn’t attempt to change my eating habits in any other way other than giving up my daily dessert habit.  However, I also noticed more subtle, but equally exciting results.  The skin on my body instantaneously tightened, and I felt noticeably less sluggish.  Thus, limiting my dessert consumption became a huge wake-up call to me that sugar was bad, and it had a negative affect on my body. I continued to follow the one-dessert-a-week rule, and gradually, my dessert became smaller and smaller.  It became easier to pass-up sweets.  I cheated occasionally, but for the most part, dessert became something that I associated with special occasions.  It became effortless, and when I was confident that I could indulge in sugar without going back to my old habits, I gradually let sugar back into my life.

I have learned to maintain a healthy balance of desserts, but for me, sugar consumption will always be a slippery slope.  Currently, I am studying abroad in Europe, and I have been eating way too much chocolate.  My eating situations and habits have been far from normal lately, and I have probably been devouring at least a chocolate bar a day.  Granted, I have learned to modify my overall food intake to keep from gaining excessive amounts of weight, but regardless, there is no excuse for me to be eating so much sugar.  It isn’t healthy, and it isn’t necessary; thus, I am going on a sugar detox for two weeks, and these are my self-imposed rules.

1. No Processed Sugar.  If it doesn’t go come in the form of a fruit or vegetable, I am not going to eat it.  There might be a few minor exceptions most notably the minimal amount of sugar in non-diary milk and my adore calcium supplements.
2. No Soy Lattes.  I drink a lot of soy lattes, and this might prove to be infinitely more difficult than giving up my chocolate habit.  Aside from the fact that I truly love a good soy mocha, I have no control over what kind of soy milk coffee shops use, and I have an inkling that some of these soy milks have a lot of added sugar.  So, the soy latte habit has to stop.
3. Limit Alcohol Consumption.  Okay, I totally hate the two drink rule because – honestly – who wants to go out on a Friday night and limit themselves to two drinks? Not me.  Sorry Mom.   However, for two weeks, I plan on curtaining my drinking for the sake of my sanity and my health.  Also, alcohol is a huge trigger for my unhealthy eating habits, and I figure if I stay sober enough, I can maintain a baseline of self control to bypass the dark chocolate that will be sitting in my dresser drawer.

In retrospect, I should have realized there was an impending problem when I started carrying dark chocolate around in my purse to get my fix.  I already had my first challenge this morning when I didn’t get porridge at Starbucks because I knew I couldn’t sweeten it with dark chocolate.  I opted for a fresh squeezed apple, beetroot, and celery juice, which was also packed with sugar, albeit natural sugar.  Needless to say, it should be an interesting two weeks, and I’m looking forward to seeing how I feel when I decrease my sugar consumption.  I am definitely not doing this to punish myself or lose weight.  I just have been eating too much sugar lately, and for me, the best way to break my habit  is to quit cold turkey.  My sister, who is studying in Germany, is going to join me.  Anyone else in?

One day down.  Thirteen days to go.

Throwback 2007.

Now.

This weekend, I may have been visiting the same places I did five years ago, but I was seeing the city from a completely different perspective.  These days I am certainly a more experienced traveler.  Although, sometimes, I long for flurry of emotion, anticipation, and trepidation that I used to associate with traveling, now, I have much more energy to appreciate the characteristics of the culture and just embrace the subtle charm of the unknown.  Instead of being in absolute awe of the regal architecture of Paris, being intimidated and slightly bemused by the language barrier, and concerned about getting from point A to point B, I am much more capable of embracing the differences and difficulties of being in a foreign city and enjoying the diversity.  Don’t get me wrong, traveling foreign places is still exciting for me.  If you haven’t noticed, I kind of love to travel, but lately, it has taken on a completely new dimension for me.   I have reached this place where my traveling anxiety is minimal, and I can focus on just enjoying the journey and drinking copious amounts of coffee.

Two moments really stood out for me this weekend.  In a small, French cafe, with a view of the Louvre, my traveling companions and I found ourselves in the company of an old French man and his Columbian wife.  There was an obvious language barrier, but the message the couple left us with was clear.  The old man wasn’t shy about the fact that he and his partner had been in love for thirty years, and as he left, he reiterated: “don’t forget, thirty years of love.” His wife then proceeded to make a wave motion with her hand – up and down, up and down.  It was just one of those moments in life that was really touching; one of those moments that you take to heart, and it makes you believe in Prince Charming, fairytales endings, and the idea that maybe life as an adult doesn’t have to be all that bad.  It seemed incredibly fitting for my life at the moment.

Moment two was on Sunday morning while my friend Mal was searching for a souvenir.  When investigating the goods in an open-aired shop along a main street, the song Danza Kuduro started playing over the store’s loudspeaker.  You should  know that Danza Kuduro is one of my favorite songs in the entire universe, and when I hear it, I have dance.  I don’t really have control over it; my body just starts to move.  And in this souvenir shop, I started to shake my shoulders a little bit, the shop owner caught my eyes, cranked up the music, and started dancing with me in the store.  My two traveling companions joined in, and for a second, we were all completely in the moment and thrilled to be sharing a fun, silly, and carefree moment.  People walking by were laughing and pointing, and I was just happy to be sharing my love for dancing and Danza Kuduro (please click and dance).  This moment by far made me day.

On that note, I thought I would post a few of my favorite pictures from the weekend.

Love Padlocks!

Notre Dame.

Avoiding the brutal cold from the glorious, warmth of the Louvre.

Were you worried there wouldn’t be some pictures of food?

Arc d’ Triomphe.

Best. Chocolate. Cake. Ever.

Incredible and edible.

The obligatory – Tour Eifflel.

Au revoir.

So yesterday, after visiting the food court at Harrods, Mal and I decided that we wanted to eat somewhere where we could sit down for dinner.  We wondered around in the vicinity of Harrods, and we stumbled across an Indian food place.  At this point, we were in dire need of some dinner and warmth; however, in the time I have known Mal she has always turned up her nose at Indian food.  I love Indian food, so I told Mal that if she was going to try Indian food, London was a good place to do it.  However, I left the decision completely up to her although I was secretly crossing my fingers.  And when she reluctantly agreed to the Indian food, I was surprised, impressed, and thrilled!

After pursuing the menu, Mallory made her selection.  She opted for the vegetarian (Yay! No chicken!) Tawa Mushroom Masala.

The verdict: she liked it!  Ding! Ding! Ding!  Thankfully, Mallory no longer has to miss out on the amazingness of Indian food, and I am so glad that I could help.

By the time we finished enjoying dinner and left the restaurant, it was snowing.

I was enthralled with the snow and trying to get some pictures of the snow at night, but I think Mallory preferred the Indian food.

Here is to hoping the weather is better in Paris!  See you from the other side of the weekend! 

Are there any other Royal family fanatics out there?  Yes, I totally woke up at 3:00 AM to watch the Royal Wedding in the Pacific timezone. Didn’t you? I have always have this odd fascination with the Royals.  As a young child, I read multiple books on Princess Diana, and I was pretty much obsessed with Kate Middleton and her wedding to Price William.  And luckily, my time here in England coincides with the Queen’s Diamond Jubilee, which is the celebration of her 60th Anniversary as Queen.

Monday was the beginning of the Queen’s Diamond Jubilee, and  the celebration commenced with a 41 Gun Salute in Hyde Park.  Although, I think that technically it should be called a 41 Cannon Salute. It was quite fabulous, as a celebration for a Queen should be.  The most surprising thing was that I felt incredibly underdressed.  Although it was near freezing, outdoors, and messy from the melting snow, men were wearing top hats and beautiful scarves.  Women looked incredibly put together in their Winter coats.  Honestly, I had no idea that it was possible to look so fancy in outerwear, but I was incredibly wrong.  Although I didn’t feel excluded, I did feel a little out of place in my jeans, short casual peacoat, and obviously uncombed ponytail.  My saving grace was the feather on my headband.  But, thankfully, no one cared about how I was underdressed, they cared about the event.

First, the King’s Troop Royal Horse Artillery horses cantered out pulling cannons.  At this point, I desperately wished I had gotten to Hype Park earlier to stake out a good spot for photography, but alas, I didn’t, and I struggled to get decent photos by sticking my dslr above my head, hoping for the best, and clicking away.  If you are interested in professional pictures of the event, I suggest checking out this article at the Daily Mail.  Once the cannons were operational, those babies fired, and it was pretty spectacular. Thank goodness I was aware that this was going on because those cannons were loud.  If I had been anywhere in the near vicinity and heard the canons firing, I probably would have had a panic attack.

Check out the smoke.

And, then, the horses came and hauled the cannons away, and the gun salute was over before I knew it.

Don’t these pictures look like I stepped backed into time?  The 41 Gun Salute was wonderful.  As an American, it seems surreal that such traditions still exist, but it makes my time here feel a little more unique and cultural and reminds me that London is indeed a foreign country.  However, in retrospect, if I had know about the dress code, I would have pulled myself together and tried to stumble upon a attractive, wealthy, British young man.  Unfortunately, I was unprepared, and obviously, I need to  get my priorities in order.  Yet, fortunately, there is another gun salute on April 21st.  You live, you learn.

Yesterday, some of my classmates and I are met up in the Eastern end of London to explore Brick Lane.  Brick Lane is a street in London that is known for the large number of Indian food restaurants alongside some killer thrift stores and eclectic marketplaces.  But, obviously, the main reason for our trek to Brick Lane was for the Indian food. Hands down, Indian food is one my favorite cuisines, if not my absolute favorite.  In high school, my friend and I would eat at a hole in the wall called Khan’s, where I proceeded to eat saag until I thought my taste buds were going to burn off.  And when I went vegetarian, my love for Indian food deepened because of the plethora of vegetarian, and usually vegan, options. Vegetarian food options make me happy.  Indian food makes me happy.  Brick Lane was destined to be a good thing. And, true to the my expectations, there were a ton of Indian restaurants lining each side of Brick Lane.  Happiness.

After  walking around in the snow for a few hours checking out the sights, I was more than ready to devour my fair share of  spiced vegetables.  To add to the experience, individuals from each restaurant were outside their restaurants avidly attempting to usher our group into their restaurant.  It was a little overwhelming because there was virtually no way of distinguishing one restaurant from another.  If you ever go, I would highly suggest looking up a restaurant beforehand.  However, the group finally settled on the Brick Lane Brassiere, where we were offered a free round of drinks. What can I say?  I have never seen law students turn down free alcohol.

Unfortunately, after Friday night, beer was not a great decision.  I took approximately two sips before passing it on to someone with a stronger stomach.

For an appetizer, I got the Mulligatawany Soup.  Yeah, I have no idea how to pronounce that either. It was a simple lentil soup, but the flavor was clean, and the warmth was absolutely divine after trekking around in the snow for a few hours.

And for the main course, I got the vegetable Rogon.  I am still not entirely sure what this was, but the description read: medium spiced garnished with fresh tomatoes.  My goal was to order something that wasn’t too spicy, but something spicy enough to warm me up.  Although delicious, I have to say this isn’t quite as spicy as I had hoped for.

Both were dishes that I had never tried before, and both were really good.  Plus, I was happy to add some variety to my Indian food repertoire.  I usually almost always order something with spinach.  It was far from the best Indian food I have ever had, but in my opinion, Brick Lane was more about the experience than the food.  Obviously, I would have preferred if I had been blown away by the food, but it was a decent meal, and I was just happy to be inside out of the snow.  We spent the rest of the afternoon meandering down Brick Lane, enjoying the scenery, and shop hopping in an attempt to keep warm.

Overall, I really enjoyed Brick Lane.  I checked an item off my London Bucket List, and I am happily planning on going back to devote a little more time to the market.  They even had vegan, gluten-free cupcakes there!  Total win.

Lately, I have just been savoring everything about my experience here:  from the subpar weather to the companionship of my classmates to the alone time I spend in my really small dorm room.  I finally feel like I have started to move away from the negativity of the last four months of my life, move forward, and be grateful for my life in the present moment, and it feels like a good match – kind of like Brick Lane and I.

In her hey day, my grandmother was an excellent cook.  I have many recollections of her kitchen creations; she used to make these “Monster Cookies,” which were some version of macadamia nut cookies sandwiched together with icing. Her apple pie was absolutely remarkable, and everyone, even on my Dad’s side of the family, knows that no one can quite make an apple pie like Tibby.  Her pies making skills are essentially a legend.  I never appreciated Tibby’s cooking expertise when I was younger, I like to think that my love and natural inclination for cooking is something that is partly due to her influence.  And although everyone calls my grandmother Tibby, her real name is Bernice, and her friends call her Bea, so yesterday, when I had tea at Bea’s of Bloomsbury, I couldn’t help but think about my grandmother’s knack for cooking, baking, and recipe creating, and how much I would have loved to have her company for tea.

Bea’s of Bloomsbury is bakery located in Central London.  Although Bea’s is relatively new to the London scene, established in 2008, they have a cookbook and seem to be  well-renouned amongst the London bakery scene.  All of my classes here in London are abnormally small (five people!), so as a class, we decided to venture out on a frigid London afternoon to have tea together after class, and I was thrilled Bea’s was our destination.

Originally, I had planned on opting for the traditional tea service – black tea with a scone, clotted cream, and jam. However, after seeing the pastry case, I decided I should keep an open mind when selecting my sweet of choice. Please notice the size of the meringue cookies; they were enormous.

I finally choose for the carrot cake loaf and vanilla black tea.  I have never been a huge fan of carrot cake in the past, but lately, it has seemed to be my cake of choice.  In my opinion, a vegetable baked into a cake is an unbeatable combination.  It was a muy bueno decision.

But, the best part of the afternoon was the camaraderie.  The carrot cake and tea were wonderful, but the company of my classmates and my professor cast some warmth on the miserably chilly London day.  Studying abroad is always an enlightening experience, and it is comforting to enjoy the companionship of people who are going through the same experience of you.

If you are ever in London, I would happily recommend making a stop at Bea’s to brighten up a cloudy London afternoon. The atmosphere is charming, the food is phenomenal, and the place is just  pretty darn cute.  Although if I went back next time, I think I would opt for the more traditional black tea with a “proper” scone.   But, since I couldn’t have a slice of my grandmother’s famous apple pie, carrot cake at Bea’s of Bloomsbury was a great runner-up.

But, on to more exciting things, I ate Sri Lankan food for the first time last night!  Yes, Sri Lankan food.  Never heard of it?  Honestly, I had no idea that Sri Lankan food even existed before this week until a friend tried to describe to me the wonder of Koththu.  I was intrigued, and I am generally up to try any sort of vegetarian food, so plans were made and subsequently executed.  The restaurant of choice was The Sekara, advertised as the only full Sri Lankan restaurant in the vicinity of London.

For an appetizer, my dining companion and I split the Channa Puri: spicy chick peas served on a flaky deep-fried puri bread.  It was warm, rich, and savory, and it was the perfect amount of food to get my appetite ready for the main course.

For the main dish, there was Koththu – the dish that was the entire reason for the Sri Lankan venture.  Koththu is roti (like a whole wheat Nan) that is shredded and cooked with an assortment of vegetables and eggs.  This stuff isn’t even on Wikipedia ya’ll, so pay attention.  Edited to Add:  Apparently, I was only kidding – more can be found out about Koththu under Kutto on Wikipedia.  When I first heard about this, I imagined something similar to bread pudding, but my expectations were a little off.

This dish was unlike anything I had ever eaten before.  The best thing about this dish was the texture; the flavor was deep and spicy but perfectly complimented by the subtle buttery roti that seamlessly emerged as the main facet of the dish.  Aside from being distinctive, the Koththu was just really freaking good.  The roti made this dish hearty without being too heavy, and the culmination of the juicy roti, the cooked vegetables, and spice was perfection.  A large part of my fascination with this dish was due to the novelty of  baking shredded bread into a vegetable dish, but I would absolutely venture out on a cold, dreary, near-freezing evening  to devour this Sri Lankan speciality again.

Sometimes, I forget that I am living in this extraordinary, international city.  I feel comfortable here in London.  I am a city girl and always have been.  I feel at home here amongst the hustle and bustle.  But, then I have these moments when I am enjoying completely new-to-me, unique things like Koththu, and it reminds me that stepping outside of my comfort zones and trying unfamiliar things can be quite rewarding.  And although those moments of newness can be a little intimidating, I am really trying appreciate those moments because they remind me of how lucky I am to have these opportunities and how grateful I am to have these experiences.

Buenos noches!