Welcome to Summer

The weather here has been amazing hasn't it? Though it is not a Belgian tradition, this story is still funny and I thought I'd share it in honor of the arrival (and hopeful endurance) of summer here in Brussels.

Be it in honor of the harvest or the ancient traditions of the Occitan language, there is always a reason to celebrate in the Dordogne. When you live in a fairy tale, why not?!

On June 24, La Fete de St Jean heralds the arrival of Summer and one of the sweetest traditions of the Perigord is the making of crosses out of wild flowers that are then placed above entry door or on the barn door (to protect the livestock it is said).
This photo was taken by my friend Roland Manouvrier who made his own cross out of wild flowers. He was a bit miffed at his fellow St Leon neighbors who had not taken such care as he had. "Many of them just made the crosses from their garden flowers" he complained.

I asked him if it really mattered what kind of flowers one used. Wasn't the sentiment the same? Maybe people don't have time these days to search for wildflowers, I offered.

"NO!" was his response. "You must frolic in the hills and appreciate the liberty and freedom of finding the wild flowers".

Ah, life in a fairy tale.

Happy Summer! May you all frolic in fields of wildflowers and find your liberty.

To read more about the Dordogne, and our upcoming book, go to www.dordognestories.blogspot.com

Taste Hungary

The best way to experience a country and its culture is to eat it. Well, that's my motto anyway and it hasn't steered me wrong yet. Just a short hop, non-stop flight from Brussels, Hungary and its vast variety of food and wine options are simmering for anyone looking for different and delicious way to vacation this year. And what better way is there to taste a country than with someone who has made a career of scouring the wine regions and food havens first hand? Author, food journalist, and all-around nice girl Carolyn Banfalvi (read about and buy her book here) has started a culinary tour company with her Hungarian husband that will tantalize and treat your taste buds to authentic Hungarian cuisine and wine, and other specialties. See the country the way she has (with a knife and fork) and make your next vacation a gourmet one. Book on their website at: www.tastehungary.com. Bon Appetit!

Macaroon Mania & Licking Windows

Taking in the window displays of various pastry shops in Paris is one sure way to gain a few kilos, and one sure way to fall in love with Paris' most delicious souvenir, a ubiquitous confection that has locals and visitors alike whipped into a meringue-like frenzy… the macaron.

NOTE: Americans should not confuse the French macarons---two delicate dome-shaped meringue cookies with a flavor-infused cream or ganache in between---with the American macaroon (double o) ---a dense glop of a cookie made with coconut or almond paste. If I didn’t know better, I could be comparing more than just cookies, but I digress.

Parisians are fou about macarons, and shops selling the almond-based, flavor-filled, cute-as-a-button delicacies are as much a part of the Parisian pastry scene as tarte tatin and croissants. From the individual boutiques of world-renowned pastry picassos to the classic Ladurée (who recently added a shop at Charles de Gaulle in case you were craving one last crunch), Paris' macaron meccas are a gourmet gallery walk for sugar seekers. No matter how small or large, the boutiques teem with people, all clamoring to take home the most edible of Paris souvenirs, with some folks waiting up to an hour! (Would you like NUTS with your cookies madame?)

One of my favorite French expressions is: Lécher les Vitrines, which means to window shop, but literally translates: to lick the windows. This expression takes on a whole new meaning while perusing the patisseries of Paris, especially when macarons are on display. I love admiring the little round macarons, wearing their proud colors and lined up like obedient school children. Or stacked into pyramids and Christmas trees that would make the most delicious table centerpieces or even wedding cakes. The windows are the macaron's theater, and I was only chased away once for licking the glass! Ladurée, the famed house of, and claimed inventor of, the modern day macaron, has gorgeous budoir-esque windows at each of the four Parisian locations, with a color palette of cookies that glimmer like jewels against the signature pale green boxes. Behind the main Ladurée shop on the Champs-Elysees is even a bar with a menu of macaron inspired drinks with similar colors and flavors. I had the violette-cassis cocktail, which was divine and topped with a purple macaron. My friend had the rose drink, which she didn’t like. Apparently it tasted too much like...a rose. Imagine? The cookie cocktails are, admittedly, an acquired taste and can be a little like boozy bubble bath but hey...that’s how the cookie crumbles. (Sorry, I just had to pun).

One of the reasons I love France is for its passion for food. How can you not love a country that refers to a religious holiday, Cadlemas or La Chandeleur on February 2, as Crêpe Day?! And the macaron obsessed French have not disappointed me yet when it comes to fêting their food. Yep, you guessed it. March 20, all over France, is Macaron Day. Vive La France!!

While Ladurée is the most well-known and the cookies are certainly delicious, it often takes a Herculean effort (not a far off description of me given all the macarons I have been eating lately) to get into the shops since tour busses literally pull up in droves. The Champs-Elysees store is open on Sunday at 8:30 a.m., which is a manageable time to go if you happen to be awake and caffeinated by then. Luckily Paris is full of other outposts equally worthy of a taste. Pierre Hermé (pierreherme.com), Dalloyau (dalloyau.fr), Carette (carette-paris.com), and Sadaharu Aoki (sadaharuaoki.com) are amongst my favorite window-licking (and macaron eating) destinations.

I decided to take my macaron obsession to new levels (am I turning Parisian?). Through the lovely Paule Caillat at her home in the Marais, and with her delicious gourmet tour company, Promenades Gourmandes (promenadesgourmandes.com), I learned (attempted) to make the cookies myself. This is no easy task and requires a lot of time and a PhD. in pastry bag manipulation. But Paule's friend and master pastry chef Joel Morgeat was kind and patient, and possesses a bizarre, almost circus-freak-show like skill for handling boiling sugar with his fingertips. I don't recommend trying this at home, nor after a few glasses of vin rouge! I left Paule's house with a recipe in hand, a couple of burnt fingertips, a canon of cookie vocabulary to fool guests, and memories of a great afternoon in a laughter-filled kitchen.

But even if I could make them at home (not likely), I'll still go back to Paris for my macarons. They simply taste better when coming from one of my favorite places on earth, and after licking a few windows.

Cultural Differences Make Us Similar

I recently had the pleasure of dining with Anne Randerson, Ph.d. of Cross Cultural Horizons here in Brussels. Her company helps families and executives transition easily into new cultures, and she specializes in Europe and Asia where she has lived over the last 20 years. I was interviewing her for a piece about doing business in Brussels that will appear in Executive Travel Magazine this fall and though my questions were few, we spent a couple of entertaining hours chatting about stereo types and nuances in cultures (and perception) that can make or break relationships. As an American living abroad, I am all too familiar with preconceived stereotypes that may be, at times, accurate, but are most often false.

Like in the US, or in any country, there is a unique history that has formed current attitude toward work ethic, politics, human rights, etc. We can't (shouldn't) impress our own values and beliefs on others because our history and foundations are significantly different. Not wrong. Not superior. Just different. Just as we can't assume that Europeans will ever understand our American obsession with work, big cars, big macs and guns, Americans may never understand why Muslims prey five times a day, or why women cover their heads. In reality, we don't need to agree with it, or practice it, we just need to understand these mosaics of cultures exist, and respect them. Just as we ask, often demand, the same in return.

Eric at Berlitz Cultural Consulting told me, after I jokingly prodded him for being 15 minutes late for our meeting, and despite the fact I saw him sitting in his office and he saw me waiting, that this is referred to as the 'academic quarter'. At universities , professors leave the doors open 15 minutes after the official start time of class, then the doors are locked. This translates into business too and unless everyone is present, people will wait 15 minutes before commencing a meeting. So, tardiness is not personal, as was my perception when I first arrived. I still hate it, but at least I don't take it as a personal slam. I could have also chosen to arrive at 2:10 instead of 2 on the dot and that would have been ok. I just didn't know. Now I understand. I still hate it, and I'll still show up at deux heure pile, but I won't be miffed when I wait and thus, I won't curse the bloody bloke who had no regard for my time because that was not the case at all. See how the game works?!

Point being (I have one) says Anne, the world is full of people with different histories, different motivations and different raisons d'etre. For me, that's the beauty of living somewhere different. Where our histories and values meet makes for interesting coffee chatter and forges great friendships. I have learned to appreciate the values taught to me as a young American, but I have also learned to accept, appreciate and admire other value systems I have found while living here in Belgium.

"In the end, we are all similar," said Anne. "Take the politics and language away and we are humans looking to be fulfilled, be respected, and enjoy a quality life. Understanding the differences is the key."

I have to agree with her( though it might help that she speaks six languages). We may look different at times, or prey or eat or dress differently, but we are all similar in our desire to be individually respected, uphold our personal dignity, and be valued as a human being. No headscarf or gun law changes that individual desire.

It was one of the most enlightening lunches I have had recently and I encourage you all to look differently at other cultures through eyes of a human, rather than those of a certain nationality. Or, call Anne...her stories of life as a professional woman in Japan and as a cultural coach in Europe are humorous, and you'll leave feeling inspired and delighted to be a stranger in a strange land.

Overnight guests are welcome in a grounded jumbo jet

This article from Executive Travel magazine (look for my article about Brussels in the September 2009 issue) makes my plane phobic skin crawl. I have always said: I'll fly in one because I have to, but jump out of one--I think not; I'll likely never work in one (my gasps of fear and white knuckle grip on the arm rest would not be good for passengers); I'll spend the night in one on the red eye but book one for a romantic weekend?---- hell no!

Here is the blurb from Executive Travel Magazine. Tell me what YOU think.


The cockpit is a bridal suite. Oh I can hear the wisecracks from here....
Should cabin pressure fail, an oxygen mask...ok, ok, ok


It aint the Ritz, but it is clever.

Have a good flight

A Young Broad Abroad Gives Good Advice

I have the good fortune to have a young, smart, American girl staying in my house. While I love her adventurous spirit and her kindness, it's her smarts that really have me hooked. Her blog "love thy passport" is chronicling her journey as a recent graduate in search of life, love, adventure, and eventually a job. She ended up here in Brussels, on my guest bed and recently posted the following. I find it quite sage for a 22 year old proving that we are never too young, or too old, to gain a new perspective. She writes:

In addition to the renewed invigoration of an entrepreneurial spirit and true personal passions I would like to comment on one benefit financial turmoil has afforded me: perspective. At first glance recent graduates appear at a disadvantage to our predecessors who left college with a plethora of job options. During the Clinton years entry level salaries were quite high. Newbies learned to love the green and ran with it.

Warm and fuzzies associated from the purchases of fancy cars, nice homes, and bling tend to wear off once reality hits. The realities, to name a few, came in the form of high gas prices, mortgage meltdown, and DIVORCE....of course she left your ass, you were always working!

We measly recent graduates, who have to taste a bit of what it is like to work hard, be poor, and get creative in order to achieve our goals, should count ourselves lucky. My alternative route brought me to Brussels where I am picking up some French and teaching English to children. If I had rushed straight into the career world I probably would have missed out on this experience. Golden opportunity time: the world is giving us the perfect excuse to stay young, enjoy youth, and slow down. I am going to take it. Put on your favorite soul record and do what feels right.

I feel blessed that I was not handed a shiny job straight out of college. Now I can properly plan for the future with some real world perspective. Not to mention the fine tuning of my mad karaoke skills. Here's to the good life!

Of course, I am sure she'd love to have a job. The stress of that must way heavily on her. But I admire the spirit and the glass half full perspective with which she views her life. We old broads abroad can learn a lot from a fresh pair of glasses. I may just try out my own 'mad karaoke skills'. Or maybe not!

It's Not Just Disneyland

Belgium ranks 10th on the list of happiest places (to live) on Earth. See where your country ranks. Click Here.

Restaurant Magazine's World's Top 50 Restaurants

"Life's Short, Eat Well" is what I always say. And my husband's mantra goes, "There's no excuse to drink bad wine." You can see we are a match made in dining heaven. I am always curious how the powers that be could choose only 50 in the world, but here we go. You'll see that some Belgian Restaurants (Hof Van Cleve and De Karmeliet) made the top 50, holding their own against the Spanish power houses of molecular gastronomy and the rising stars in Asia's restaurant scene. Bon Appetit! See The List

Expatica Interview

CLICK HERE

Food & Wine's "World's Best Food Cities" 2009

Why is Brussels missing from this list?

Bloomin' Brussels

Whoever says Brussels is a grey city has never visited in springtime! From window boxes to parks, the capitol is in full bloom with a bouquet of color sure to change the mood of any naysayer. Under the canopy of trees along Avenue Tervuren, the lima bean colored leaves born over the last few weeks cast a green tint to the air and sidewalk, giving the sensation of swimming beneath a sea. This time of year also heralds the opening of gardens, some public, some private, all spectacular. The Royal Greenhouses of Laeken (serres) open their doors for only three weeks a year, in April and May, and visiting is like falling down Alice's rabbit hole into wonderland. Geranium leaves the size of my open hand, fuscia plants suspended like little dancing fairies and flowers in all the colors of lifesaver candies. If there was one sight to see in Brussels, the Royal Greenhouses, built by King Leopold and on the property of the Royal Palace, would be it. Some of the trees and plants date back 100 years and the surrounding acres make you forget you're in a thriving city. South of Brussels in the forest not far from Waterloo, the bluebells have arrived. There is nothing like strolling along the majestic purple carpet that glows beneath the newly greened trees and lashes of filtered light. My friend recently went with me to see the tulip gardens at the Castle of Grand Bigard, just outside of Brussels. She started to skip when she saw them. "How can you not be happy around all these flowers?" she asked. It's true, so I skipped too. Rows and beds and mounds and hollows of tulips in every size were omnipresent and ablaze with color. We bent and laid ourselves in the wet grass to smell them, and may have even tip-toed through a few, just because. Some were scented, but it was the hyacinth's sweet perfume that convinced me that spring had really arrived. On days like today, in bright and colorful Brussels, there is nowhere else on the planet I'd rather be, or skip.

More Photos of Istanbul

Brussels to Istanbul in less than 3 hours.