Queenie's Treasury

Happy Sunday, readers! A you've probably guessed, my Saturday was a busy one (errands, hair, new glasses, a movie), and so our Treasury is a bit late this week. I've been having one of my summertime vacation home fantasies of late, and so this week's treasury is all about places I'd love to live. (Screw visiting; I'm putting down imaginary roots.)

First up, this gorgeous landscape architecture by Perry Guillot is pure seaside perfection. I can see myself pouring gimlets as I look out over this view, or running through the grasses down to the sandy beach to go clamming, my pants rolled up, bucket in hand. Sigh.

Next, this incredible house, designed by architect Tonkin Liu, sits atop an old building in South London. Can you imagine what it's like to live in a space flooded with light and views like this one? Or to have constant access to so much greenery in the middle of one of the largest, most bustling cities on earth? I sure can. And I like it.

Finally, the stunning Hotel Iturregi, set in Spain's Basque Country, courtesy of the blog So Haute. I want to stroll in that garden, take a dip in that pool, and then top off my day with a cocktail on that terrace. (I'd manage to squeeze some quality reading time in, too, no doubt.) Would it be wrong to start an online charity drive to sponsor the trip? Yes? Oh, well.

Queenie's Treasury

Happy Saturday, folks! It's a blustery day here in New York, and I've just returned from a chilly trip to Union Square for my weekly provisions (Including ramps, mais oui!). I've just begun a 10-day staycation (more on that later), and I can't wait to get to it. Before that, though, it's time for this week's edition of the Treasury!

First up, the coolest house tour I've seen in quite a while: impeccably styled, modern dollhouses, courtesy of the New York Times. If you can't afford a houseful of full-size mid-century furniture, why not go the miniature route?

Next, a nerdy delight for food and language lovers alike! Food52 has begun publishing food crosswords by puzzle-maker Michelle Humes. They're pretty fun, and far easier than the Times' Friday puzzle. Brush up on your culinary trivia and dive in!

Finally, another house tour (life-size, this time). This one is of the most adorable houseboat you've ever seen. Josie Curran and her husband share this boat in Hampton Court in southwest London. It's pretty amazing; I'd live there in a heartbeat, and not just because it's in one of my most favorite cities on earth.

Queenie's Treasury

Happy Saturday, my lovelies! It's a bright, crisp day here in New York, and I'm enjoying a weekend of theatre (I saw Present Laughter last night and am headed to Equivocation this afternoon!), cooking and design binging (Trip to Cooper-Hewitt? Check!). Before all that, though, it's time to take a look into the treasury.

First up this week, we have the (relatively new) foodblog Fresh New England. The three posts on El's front page all involve chocolate. And one involves whipped cream - and palmiers. Need I say more?

Next, some exciting news about Target's latest limited edition collaboration with a high-end design house: Liberty of London is coming to Tar-jay! My biggest memories of Liberty are of the dresses my mom would bring back for me from her annual piligrimage to London. When I was little, I thought they were each just another dress for church, but now I know better - those gorgeous, sprigged prints were works of art. Personally, I'm drooling over the teapot and the bike. And the dishes. And the pillows. And...anyhoo. The collection is due out on March 14th. In the meantime, I've settled for a hot-pink desktop background.

Finally, a super-cool flower arranging class: Bodega Flowers 101 from Sarah at Blossom & Branch. I am seriously considering signing up for one of the public classes, though this would also make an excellent wedding shower activity, no? (Via 100 Layer Cake.)

Queenie's Treasury

Happy Saturday. everyone, and welcome to the latest edition of the Treasury! It's a gorgeous, sunny day here in New York, and I'm heading out this afternoon to Chinatown for some spicy noodles and serious window shopping. But before I go...

As you all know, I am a big fan of re-usable shopping bags, right down to the mesh produce bags I use at the Greenmarket. So I was really excited to see the London shop Unpackaged featured on the humanitarian design blog, GOOD. Unpackaged sells everything loose - spices, produce, nuts, grains - and you bring your own packaging (or buy your own at the store). The store itself is just beautiful, and I can't help but be won over by the concept.

Over on Serious Eats, they're talking about claypot cooking. Rice, sausage, and a crispy crust? I need to try this, stat.

The New York Times has added a regular coffee feature (entitled Ristretto) to its T Magazine blog line-up. Authored by Oliver Strand, one of the paper's $25-and-under columnists and staff food writers, it's a great look at coffee in the city, and coffee preparation in general. Speaking of which, I think a cup of espresso would hit the spot right now.

Little Gordon swaggers and cusses his way into your heart.

Just watch. Trust me.

Splat!

This past weekend, Jay Rayner of the Guardian took Alain Ducasse's new restaurant, Ducasse at the Dorchester, out for a serious beating. I love a great negative restaurant review - must be something to do with the inexhaustible appeal of schadenfreude. But, come on, how can you not savor a review that contains the following quote?

"I genuinely don't have a problem with restaurants charging £75 for three courses. I just demand that it be memorable, in a losing-your-virginity way. Not memorable in an accident-with a threshing-machine way."

St. John is my new second home.

After tea at The Dorchester, I was dying for a nap, and I had a sneaking suspicion that my rather prim trousers and pearls would not be quite right for dinner at Fergus Henderson's now-legendary St. John Restaurant. So I trooped back to the hotel, laid down for a bit, and got myself all dressed for dinner (jeans, flats and blazer, for those who care).

I headed up to the Tube, emerging from the Farringdon stop a bit later. (I do love the London Underground, despite its inordinate (£2) price tag - it's clean and efficient, and they've got these fabulous signs that tell you when the next train is coming. Not uncommon in Europe, I know, but it's something that we've been testing here on the L train that MTA just can't seem to get working. But I digress.) I will be brutally honest - I got awfully lost on my way to the restaurant, partly due to a poorly-marked map, but mainly because it was dark and I couldn't see any familiar landmarks, so I couldn't orient myself. I felt better when someone stopped me on the street and asked where the nearest supermarket was - clearly, I was not the only one having issues.

I arrived at the restaurant (only five minutes late), a starkly-designed, stripped down space right near the Smithfield meat market. The space wasn't sleek so much as it was plain - white, scrubbed, with bits of steel and wood here and there. The bar was raucous and smoky (it was 9:00 on a Friday night, after all), something I thought boded well.

I had called earlier in the day to change my reservation from three people to one, and the hostess escorted me to a table close to the pass-through, set for one. I thought that was a nice, hospitable touch - none of that clearing away of other silver or glassware to remind me that I was on my own. Typically I'd find the pass-through distracting, but being alone, I was thrilled to be so close to the action. The table to my right (the tables are arranged in rows, and you're quite close to your neighbors) was engaged in a heated debate in what I think was Dutch, so they were pretty much out for eavesdropping possibilities.

The hostess brought over the hot-off-the-presses edition of the Green Guide to London, and I settled in for an evening of good food and drink. My waitress was lovely, offering me sparkling water by the glass and taking my order with good cheer. Sadly, my first choice main course (the lamb chop with aioli) was sold out. I decided to start with the classic choice - the bone marrow and parsley salad - and have the pot roast, which was quite a bit like corned beef. I also ordered veggies - half potatoes, half cabbage - and sat back to enjoy my glass of red.

The bone marrow salad was, as expected, quite tasty. Served with the best implement I've met so far, a lobster fork, for digging the marrow out of the piping hot bones. On the side, freshly toasted sourdough and a parsley, caper and shallot salad. I could have done with a bit more salad, to be honest - as I always can when bone marrow is concerned. This accompaniment was the best I've found in my relatively limited bone marrow eating career, second only to the compote served at Landmarc here in Manhattan.

My main was tasty and hearty, but, to tell the truth, nothing special. The potatoes and cabbage were excellent, but the beef was rather dull. I am still kicking myself for ordering it, frankly. Especially when the loud dude to my right got his lamb with aioli. It smelled excellent. So sad...sigh.

That said, the overall experience at St. John was excellent - a wonderful balance of casual hospitality and fine-dining quality service. I felt welcome, as if I was in someone's living room, but I also felt well-served. Dinner came to £42 with tip - a bit pricey, frankly, though it would have been well worth it had I ordered a bit better.

Thoroughly stuffed from a day of food, I passed on dessert (the apple tart ordered next to me looked unreal, though). I did grab an after-dinner drink at the bar, though - as fun as it sounded from the dining room. Something about bars closing at 10 PM just makes everyone so ready to party.

Photos, photos everywhere...and not a word to read.

If you're interested in the zillions of photos I took in London, feel free to click here and check 'em out. A few more for your viewing pleasure...

London in the sunshine - really!

So, India was a fascinating place, and I promise to post more about it shortly. But first I thought I'd write a bit about the time I spent in London, crammed full as it was of food and drink.

We landed late on Thursday, after a seven-hour flight from Mumbai. (Did you know that they spray the cabin with anti-mosquito stuff when you take off from India? Serious stuff. Really brought the reason for the malaria pills - and the accompanying freaky dreams - home.)

By the time we navigated the Piccadilly line to the Green Park tube stop and hauled our suitcases out to the hotel, it was too late to get a bite anywhere civilized, so we hit the Burger King in Piccadilly Circus (I had a Whopper), where we dropped about ₤5 each (that's ten buckaroos, folks). And so began the fast and furious depletion of my funds.

The next morning, I rose early and ventured out across Green Park toward Buckingham Palace. I spent the morning walking eastward, ultimately spending an hour and a half on a guided tour of Westminster Abbey (which was wicked cool - I highly recommend it - you get to see things you can't see on your own). I then walked on to St. Paul's and across the Millennium bridge, ending at the Tate Modern, where I promptly queued up to slide down this:

After a stroll through the Tate (and a visit to its fabulous gift shop), I made my way toward Borough Market, stopping for a sandwich and a rest along the way. I grabbed a chicken and bacon sandwich at EAT, which is Prêt-A-Manger taken to a whole new level. Their philosophy is all about good, wholesome, delicious food at affordable prices. I was a bit sad at first that I gave into gnawing hunger before I reached the market, but it was worth it.

Next up, Borough Market. This was my first European outdoor market, and I found it all a bit overwhelming. My hunger sated, I mostly wandered here and there, admiring the displays of game, sweets (Turkish delight, an automatic reminder of The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe), and produce. The market sprawls under the London Bridge and the train overpasses, meandering through several glass-topped arches and between stone pillars. It bustles, even at 2:00 on a Friday afternoon.

I grabbed a pint of Guinness in a nearby pub, then headed back to the hotel to change for tea at The Dorchester. Upon my arrival in the lobby, I was so distracted by the plush decor that I didn't notice Johnny Depp walking right past me until a rather uncouth American (go us!) said, rather loudly, "Hey, that's Johnny Depp!" Thoroughly prepared, at that point, for a mediocre, celebrity-spot tea, I approached the host stand.

My travel companions had ditched me for tea and dinner, so I explained that I was on my own, and was escorted to a lovely couch about halfway to the back of the restaurant (The Promenade, ahem). Pink champagne in hand, I proceeded to gorge myself on scones with clotted cream and jam, and finger sandwiches, one of them containing the only egg salad I have ever enjoyed. Bravo! The staff were gracious and lovely, and though there were a fair number of obnoxious tourist types about (jeans and trainers in abundance), civility mostly won the day.

I walked back to the hotel full to the brim and wondering how I would ever make it to my 9:00 PM reservation at Fergus Henderson's famed St. John restaurant in Clerkenwell.

Oh, don't worry - I managed.

Stay tuned.

Report from London

This just in - London is more expensive than New York! I know, I know...you already knew that, I'm sure. But the last time I was in London (gulp - 12 years ago), the pound was only worth about $1.25, and I was only 15, so my mommy paid for most of it (Thanks, Mom!).

This time - ouchers!

More on my culinary adventures shortly (including reports on dinner at St. John, tea at The Dorchester, and a spin through Borough Market), but here's one of my many self-shots (I spent most of the weekend exploring on my own, a blissful change from 6 days in India with a group of twelve).