The Born to Shop Lady

Uh-Oh Google Alert

2011-05-20T12:11:00.000-07:00

We are off again fro China and India and as much as I hope to blog each day, the lssons learned in China are that Google and certian governments are not sympa, I understand I will have the same issues in india so excuse me if I cannot reach out to touch, or teach...this is a google based blog bin sur

mugged in paris

2011-02-01T08:03:00.001-08:00

last night, my dinner date never arrived at our rendezvous because he was mugged in the Paris subway; today Born to Shop co-author Sarah Lahey was robbed at the Concorde Station of the #1 metro. It was to be our perfect last day in Paris, but two muggings in less than 24 hours is terrifying and a warning to all.

Bon Dimanche from Paris

2011-01-30T02:31:00.000-08:00

We have spent a lovely few days in Barcelona and are now back in Paris, at the Hotel Pont Royal, which is the most perfect Left Bank hotel of your dreams-- small and fancy but not too fancy; some rooms with views of the Eiffel Tower. Ours has a view of the new Monoprix across the street which seems appropriate for a pair of shopping goddesses.

This morning I had planned to return to the flea market at Vanves to buy some dessert forks I didn't buy last Sunday, but the vagaries of the #95 bus and the seriousness of a $20 taxi ride seemed too much to handle. If you come to my house for dinner, be prepared to cope without proper dessert forks. Not that the ones I planned to buy were proper-- they were fish forks!

Tomorrow we are off to the factory outlets at La Vallee, the highlight of our shopping dreams. I wll also go to the supermarket out there and fill in at the Monoprix across the street...and at Le Grand Epicerie at Bon Marche, where I know I can get sirop for making Freanch marshmellows, lemon salt, etc. Bought Iberia ham for $20 for 100 grams at Barcelona iarport to find French ham from Bayonne (similar to Iberian) for $5. Meanwhile, we watch Cairo on CNN.

ritzing it up in barcelona

2011-01-28T03:31:00.000-08:00

We have come to Barcelona to work on Born to Shop Provence Plus-- Barcelona being a short hop from France and a good way to get to Provence, since you have to drive anyway. THe weahter is cool; women are out on the streets in their fur coats and high heels. It's not thaaaat cold.

We stayed one night at the new Mandarin Oriental, a gorgeous modern hotel right on the main shopping street Passeig de Gracia, all modeled in white with wavy bathroom tiles and window screens that go up and down with a remote control.

Now we have moved around the corner to the Hotel Palace which was built by Cesar Ritz in 1913 and recently remodeled in plush Regency style with willow green velvet in the lobby and a room of beige and flocked velvet wallpaper. The TV is the mirror over the fireplace and the balcony would make Evita proud. We open the balcony doors to use it as a fridge when shopping for ham and chorizo.

Our first night in town we walked a few blocks to El Corte Ingles, the biggest department store in town and went to their supermarket in the basement. We took a rolly suitcase so we could carry bottles of olive oil back to the hotel-- hopefully they will make it to Paris with us and then on to USA. I could not find my favorite brand (with the rooster on the front) but noted that the oil is sold by the varietal...in the California Central Coast I know my grape varietals, but only a few of the types of olives. I bought Picoul which i think has a full flavor and much body...or will after I have schlepped it around the world.

I had breakfast in the Winter Garden of the Palace Hotel today -- it is a true Edwardian Winter Garden and is the location of one of my dog Toffee's greatest pranks. I brought him here when he was but a puppy and noted how well behaved and quiet he was under the table, until I noted with distress that he had escpaed into the garden portion of the Winter Garden and was digging half way to China. That's what dachshunds do, I guess. It is very lonely without him here now.

On the first night at El Corte Ingles, I fell in love with some accessories from the Designual line which in times past I would have told you is a Custo wannabe. Now it's my favorite store and line here in BCN, as it is written in many store names. They have a store at the airport, so I almost can't wait to leave.

Bienvenue a Paris

2011-01-24T07:24:00.000-08:00

Arrived in Paris on almost empty Open Skies flight from Newark; hotel room not ready so off to the flea market at Vanves; felt giddy with greed...or was that jetlag? Didn't buy any of the many things I wanted; did spring for a small painting that I can n0w schlep on rest of my travels. Will take it to the next 60% off framing sale at Michael's. The vendor told me the painting was an antique since it is signed and dated 1966. I wonder what that makes me?

There was a small cultural brouhaha when I took a photo at a stunning display turned out by one of the vendors-- he toldme it was usual to ask permission to take a photo before shooting. I apologized profusely and groveled as the Ignorant American I knew myself to be. He thanked me for speaking French and showing him some respect. Travel teaches us all so much...

Eventually we got to check into our room at a brand new Paris hotel and member of Small Luxury Hotels of the World, Le Pavillon des Lettres (www.paviliondeslettres.com), the remake of a tiny hotel around the corner from my last apartment in Paris, so I know my way around and know all the sneaky short cuts to Monoprix. There are 26 rooms in this hotel that are said to be named for the letters of the alphabet although ours is named Urfe, which is not a letter that i know in any alphabet or in any pronounciation I can recognize. The room is postage stamp sized but incredibly chic-- the twin bed is short and narrow (which I am not) but the duvet is heavenly. The location in the 8e is truly sublime-- I know, I lived here once.

All the sales in the stores are down the street or around the corner. In fact,
Monoprix is deep in sales, so there was nothing to drool over. I did swoon for a long black gab jacket/ overcoat thingy from the new collection, meaning not on sale. I may go back and lay down my 89 euros, but again, that's no bargain and I am waiting for the last days of my trip here when I will head out to La Vallee, the outlet mall near Disneyland Paris.

I will do my grocery shopping later in the trip: probably at the Auchan hypermarket next door to the outlet mall...so far I just picked up some makeup remover, a few eyebrow pencils and a Coke. A single bottle of Coke from the corner grocery cost 2 euros or $2.80...possibly more, depending on the rate of exchange. Indeed, everything seems expensive, so I can't wait to get into some serious soldes to start saving money.

I come to Paris each January for my regular medical checkups. The vampire on the corner took my blood and about 100 euros cash; will find out how healthy I am in a few days. Most interesting part of the visit to the lab was the little shelf in the bathroom where you are told to leave your urine specimen...no walking through the lobby with a warm plastic cup in hand or a feeling of chagrin. I will be saving $$$ when I get my Rx at the pharmacy. Drug prices are regulated in France and cost a small fraction of the US prices. Take that one to Congress. Of course, no one wants to go back to America to brag about a bargain on thyroid medicine, so I hope to do better in the next few days. Tomorrow my goal is to take on Lafayette Maison the housewares branch of Galeries Lafayette.

On to Paris

2011-01-22T07:25:00.000-08:00

We chose to stay at this luxury Times Square address (new Intercontinental hotel) in order to be close to Port Authority and Holland Tunnel for getting to Newark today for the fast escape to Paris. The sun is shinning into my window here-- but it is bitterly cold in NYC and I am looking forward to leaving town and being home in Paris. It's unlikely we will roll our extra suitcases over to Port Authority to take a bus like a normal person would/should do-- we will probably splurge for a taxi or call the 777 people for the black sedan and an airport rate.

Before we leave this afternoon, I plan to make a run to a favorite fabric store Mood, on west 37th Street between 8th and 7th Avenues which should be an easy walk even if my toes freeze to the curb-- i learned about this store on a TV show and first shopped it about three years ago; there is floor after floor of yard goods of all qualities and prices-- it's a big hang out for design students and garmentos.

Yesterday we went wild with glee as we enjoyed Eataly,200 Fifth Avenue at 24th Street, the Mario Batali department store of italian food prods and cafes. I wanted to buy the trufled butter but had no way to keep it from going off so settled for black truffles in pesto sauces in a can and a few jars of gianduia crema. If i wasn't head to Europe to do my grocery shopping, I would have gone wild.

Now that I have few groceries tucked away the biggie is if I go back to Duane Reade pharmacy to buy more of that French Lierac foundation that I adore that I cannot find in France anymore...at $40 a pop I hate to load up and spend down. That's New York for you -- way too many possibilities for shopping.

I feel way too old and too poor to live here again, but the thought that people do and can shop in places like Eataly reminds me that this is indeed the greatest city in the world.

Manhattan Project

2011-01-20T14:29:00.000-08:00

We're waiting for a snow storm here in NYC, this seems to be the usual drill here this winter and I am not too worried about getting out on Saturday evening when Sarah Lahey and I depart for Paris. Meanwhile, we're snuggled into a very nice room in the new InterContinental Hotel Times Square-- wouldn't mind being snowed in here at all. The hotel is in a great location, although frankly I remember when nice girls didn't visit neighborhoods like this-- now there's a Shake Shack below and a Westin hotel across the street and most importantly a giant Duane Reade on the corner at 42nd Street. We're in the heart of the Theatre District, with Phantom playing right across the street.

Now, about that Duane Reade, it used to be a pharmacy-- which it still is-- but the chain has taken over a lot of empty real estate and expanded not only their stores but the categories of goods they sell. Many stores have fresh foods and baked goods; some will soon sell beer on tap (!) I only cared about the makeup department-- of course. Since I am headed to Paris, I am trying to go light on the debit cards now...but after a trip to Sephora and then Saks, I did my spending at Duane Reade where I discovered, among other things, a line of tini cocktail makeup (you gotta have a gimmick)...this is tini as in martini, not tini as in tiny or small. I paid $16.50 for a lipgloss (Cuba Libre-- everything has a cocktail name); this is a lot of money in my makeup budget, but it seemed like a Chanel product I know from duty free shopping, so maybe I saved $$$. this DR is open 24/7; has an MD on premises and offers three floors of shopping ops. I even found a favorite makeup base from France (Lierac) that is no longer sold in France, although I used to pay 25 europs for it and today paid $40...which is more than 25 euros. Although it saves on airfare and a time machine.

I've noticed that all the streets in this area now call themselves Times Square addresses, as if trying to cash in on the glamour. A new burger place on west 40th street says it's Times Square whereas this hotel, created from a parking lot, on west 44th is also called Times Square. Although we are very loyal to the Intercontinental brand, we picked this hotel partly because of it's location near the Port Authority. We leave for Paris from Newark Airport, which is easy to get to when you are based this far west-- or if you take a bus from the PA.

Now we're off to dinner at Bistro DB Moderne, one of Daniel Boulud's restaurants which is handily on the same street as our hotel. In between the hotel and the restaurant is the new bowling alley, BowlMor, 222 W 44th Street. We'll take a look at it as we go by but frankly, since I am still recovering from my spine injury, I don't think a game of bowls is in the cards. But this location is sublime.

In fact, there are more theatres and restaurants on west 44th street than I think any other location in Manhattan. Tomorrow night we'll dine at Osteria Al Doge, also on west 44th, a favorite Italian restaurant from the days when I lived in the tri-state area. Of course, that will be a double headed for my hips with Italian food since we're planning on lunch at Eat-ly; I will write about that tomorrow...and the bowling alley, of course.

Best of London Shopping

2010-11-29T08:51:00.000-08:00

Last night, as I drifted to sleep, I kept muttering "I can't wait for Charlie's Angels" which is a family slogan in my household that hails back to the 1970's when my late husband's daughter was a little girl. Now it's come to mean 'I'm excited about anything' and so I could barely sleep for knowing that today we were off to Bicester Village, the outlet mall near Oxford... as well as the adjoining Tesco.

We had a car and driver (Prius is fabulous from the back seat) and passed sheep in snow and frosty fields. The Tesco was not a great store and I was very upset to discover they were totally sold-out of Original Source TeaTree & Mint. I had planned to buy a dozen bottles for the hols and take advantage of the car service to not have to schelp. Ah yes. At least I was outta Tesco quickly and into the village style outlet mall with its big name designer shops and upmarket shoppers in search of discounts on designer goods.

Sarah scored a pair of Tod's for less than their regular USA price...and I bought well at Kenneth Turner, where I have been a sucker for their original scent-- all cinnamon and orange peel. Turner used to have a florist shop on South AUdley Street, near The Dorchester and is still famous for his candles and room scents. Diffusers are still a big deal here in U.K. and our hotel smells so good with our reed diffuser (in the loo) that I went all out with my 22 pounds to bring joy to my home in Paso Robles.

We came back into London via Kensington High Street and realized that a lot of our favorite stores were there, as well as a branch of TKMaxx the U.K. version of T.J. Maxx. Since we had never been to a British version of this off-price store, we felt compelled to shell out 10 pounds in taxi fare (tubes on strike-- traffic horrible) to get back there from our hotel. Afterall, we are working shoppers and the public wants to know.

Indeed, Kensington High Street was better than Oxford Street and far less crowded. This is the location of the Beauty Boots, a one-off Boots branch that is devoted to all sorts of beauty brands and even has a cosmetic dental clinic on premises. They carry Chanel and YSL makeup as well as more commercial brands. I loaded up on their cucumber moistering cream for 1.49 (about $2USD) which is very similar to the brand Say Yes to Cucumbers, which costs $14 USD for a small tube. Sarah and I have both tested the new bargain cukes and adore it. I also bouth some of the famous No. 7 Preserve & Protect, which sounds like something the police force has promised to do-- but it's a wrinkle cream. I bought the new intensive night cream but not the serum that goes underneath-- I was saving for my retirement and couldnt bear to part with yet another twenty pounds.

There's a wonderful branch of Marks & Spencer (with food hall in basement) and a TopShop in this neighborhood, as well as a large UniGlo (as good as Tokyo!)and several other multiples-- American stores as well as British-- and then there's Whole Foods and, across the street, TKMaxx which is so different from the US cousin that you could write your masters' dissertation about the two different versions of the same store. Most of the brands are European; many are names uncommon to the U.S. Prices were not give-away, but were in the fun category-- many stocking stuffers in the under 5 pounds price range.

Since I'd fallen for reed diffusers at Kenneth Turner, I bought more for 10 pounds per-- much less and not from a fancy, statusy brand.There were many big brand items and a number o fno-name items throughout the store, although I did not have the strength to shop every inch of the three floors of goodies.

It was a wonderful day of shopping-in-London, Christmas and Channukah shopping and has put us in a very good mood. Soon we will tackle the traffic and taxi fares to head to Langan's for bangers and mash. And then we will bid a fond farewell to the Queen and fly over the pond and home to our doxy boys.

For England and for Wills!

2010-11-28T10:35:00.000-08:00

Last night saw much earnest debate between Sarah and I-- the perfect Sunday morning venue in London? Columbia Street Flower Market? Camdentown? Shepher'd Bush? Hmmm, not the right Sunday for the big flea market at Chiswick (first Sunday of each month; Margaret Thatcher not included)...a museum? Is Harrod's open on Sunday's (yes; recent change in policy); what time does Peter Jones open on Sunday (11AM)...what do we most need for Born to Shop pages versus the outrageous cost of taxis?

All became moot when we slept til 11AM and missed breakfast then had to get crackin' to check out of one hotel and into the next. We made it to Peter Jones on Sloane Square, noting that the Jo Malone and Patridge's (gourmet grocery) were both gone. Partridge's turned up around the corner in the Duke of York Square.

We went to Peter Jones for the bed linen (doesn't everyone) and found much adore about Cath Kidston bed linen...more Kidston prints in street markets of Hong Kong but still a feast for the eyes. Kings' Road seemed mostly unchanged altho Korres, te Greek bath line, seems to be gone as does Dollargrand, for cheapie handbags. An antiques mews is gone-- now a branch of Anthropologie and Lush has been renovated. They have a totally new line. When I asked after Red Rooster, I was told there was a special web site for retro products. Talk about making me feel old.

We'd had lunch at Wagamama before we starte down Sloane Street and were wowed by the number of young couples with their two perfect children. Each looked like Kate & Wills.

Once we had exhausted ourselves and I was reduced to limping, we checked into The Levin Hotel, next door to Harrod's on Basil Road. Our taxi driver thought we said "Eleven" which has been a common problem when bragging about this hotel. It's a townhouse hotel with only ten rooms; it's stunningly gorgeous. As the General Manager showed us around our suite he explained that there is no mini-bar, just a Champagne bar.

If we'd only bought all the Sunday newspapers we could snuggle down with the bubbly and the papers.

Landed

2010-11-27T08:05:00.000-08:00

We have been in fair london town for about 24 hours...most of that time we have been cursing the shoppers who have formed enormous mobs in streets and stores and gloating over our good luck in getting here so easily. Sarah had two upgrade coupons with \united, where she has 1K status, and because we flew on Thanksgiving Day when the plane was not as mobbed as Oxford Street, we both got business class seats with flat sleepers. It was life changing! For the first time since my accident, I have arrived somewhere within miserable pain and suffering or oragami blues.

Checked into The Athenaeum Hotel at Picadilly and Green Park while Sarah headed for Primark on Oxford Street. I got into a taxi and headed to Whitehall to inspect the new Corinthia Hotel, going up along the Thames next to Embankment and one block from Trafalgar-- it's going to be stunning. More on that one soon-- it opens in April, if you happen to be coming here for the Royal Wedding. I felt asleep looking at the moon over Green Park out my window and listening to American Telly on Channel 5 here, which specializes in American dramas and movies.

This is one of my favorite London hotels not only for location and chic ease but because of their famous sticky toffee pudding which I got for breakfast...along with poached eggs, bangers, mushrooms, tomatoes, bacon, etc. Then we flew off to Portobello Road Market. It's easier to take taxis since five lines of the tube are down now and the traffic is horrendous. Even Portobello was too crowded for intrepid shoppers so we headed to Boots and Tesco Metro, the grocery store, Pizza Express and then Liberty of London.If there is a recession in this country, you wouldnt know it by the throngs of shoppers.

Today and tomorrow the streets in major shopping districts are closed to vehicular traffic so you can join the mobs. Prices are so high here and crowds so nerve-racking that I long for a good old fashioned American Black Friday and would kill to shop at 4AM without jetlag. Of course, we have to pray Sarah has more upgrades in her bank for a seamless trip back to SFO on United...otherwise it's Executive Economy and aching bones for days. Oh well.

Carrying On

2010-11-24T14:04:00.000-08:00

As the Born to Schlep Lady, I am turning over a new leaf and trying a radical approach to tomorrow's trip to London: carry-on luggage. Since I can barely walk and need a wheelchair to get to the plane, carrying anything is a crazy idea, but for a four night stay it seems a sin to waste time waiting for luggage to arrive.

This past spring I sprang for some lightweight Lipault luggage in Paris and hope to get another piece to the set when I am back in Paris in January. For now, I am terrified that my carry-on is not the legal size and I will be forced to check it and thus screw up the plan for easy sailing. If you don't know the Lipault brand have a look at their web site-- it's soft-sided nylon; I bought chocolate brown but it comes in a variety of fashion colors.

Here's what I have packed: two pairs Eileen Fisher black stretch pants (washable), 5 pairs clean knickers, one cashmere sweater (borrowed from Sarah), one Eileen Fisher dress, on silk scarf, makeup and toiletries and my Aerosoles desert boots in black suede. Oh yes, there's tights and socks and a black t-shirt or two and a nightgown...also some Born to Shop books and a few gift items for business meetings. As well as two empty nylon duffles as we don't have to play this silly game on the return.

My shopping list: Original Source, Cadbury Flake bars, whatever few must-haves I find at Boots and Tesco and a box of Thornton's Original Toffee. Since I can't take my dog Toffee.

Meanwhile, happiest of hols to all.

Watch It

2010-11-13T01:45:00.000-08:00

I have driven myself, and all who know me, insane with my desire for two mis-matched purple beaded metallic watches from the Fa Yuen Street Market over the last six months. I did not buy them on two other forays because the vendor would not negotiate on price and was rude, rude, rude.

Today I gave in and bought the watches, blinded by my delight and greed-- two watches for $50. The vendor pulled them off my wrist with a nasty tug (I had planned to wear them) and shoved them into cello wrap.

In the taxi home to the InterConti Hotel, I took out my watches to bask in their glow. Just one problem. One of them does not work -- totally dead.

I now realize the vendor gave me the jerk off knowing full well that one watch was a dud. I know feel stupid, stupid, stupid because I am as bad and as dumb as every gweilo in history.

Moral of the story: this is China; pay attention!
PS: Update on story:
new watch battery from Sears: $8.99 and special trip to Sears; new crystals for the five that fell out the first day I wore the two watches: $4.99 on sale at Michael's plus a new tube of nail glue; aggravation from my obsession for these watches-- priceless.

Handbag Hunting in Hong Kong

2010-11-13T01:36:00.000-08:00

Began the day at in the Peninsula Hotel Basement Level to check out the new digs of Maylin, a trusted source for many years which has just moved to smaller quarters downstairs-- nice but pricey; no cigar.
Then out the back door of The Pen to jaywalk across Nathan Road and dart into Middle Road and head to Far East Mansions and upstairs to the Ashneil nirvana-- as crammed as always with colors and textures and news of what styles are in and out, ie some new Chanel bags no longer have double C hardware on them in the real world. There were assorted clutches, three handle bags, leopard printed Keiselstein-Cord wannabes and the usual flood of beaded evening bags. Anil recently won a lawsuit against Chloe, the firm that said his work was a little too close for comfort. Ashneil regulars, please note: Anil has lost tons of weight and looks great! You will barely recognize him.
Went onward to Kimberley Hotel lobby (up their escalator one flight) to Cosmos, a new resource for us as recommended by Louisa Chan.(Photo above.) They had many of the same bags we'd seen at Maylin, but for less $$$ and equal quality. We went bonkers for beaded and embroidered velvet velour bags; I bought my daughter-in-law a crytsalized lether (new term to me) bag with G's all over it now that she's a Gersh-girl, even if she hasn't changed her last name.
From there it was a taxi yto the Prince Edward entrance of Fa Yuen Street Market-- jam packed on a Saturday. This is the place to buy low-cost dingle dangles for your handbags and totes-- these very much the vogue in Tokyo and here.
Now to pack these treasures.

One Perfect Day in Hong Kong

2010-11-12T02:33:00.001-08:00

It has been a perfect day; alas, we spen very little of it actually in Hong Kong or even Kowloon.

Step No. 1= wake up in a Harbour View room in the InterConti Hong Kong, with dawn coming over the harbour and the highrises on Victoria Island;
Step No. 2= buffet breakfast in the Club Lounge, even if the croissants were over-baked;
Step 3= Walk from the hotel a few paces into the TST East train station for a direct train to Lo Wu, PRC;
Step 4= Sail through immigration and customs, out of HKG and into China, change money at depot money exchange at $1 USD for 6.8 yuan and then ride escaltor to shopping Nirvana in Lo Wu Commercial Centre;
Step 5= Eat peking duck at Laurel Restaurant on 5th floor.
#6= shop all of 5th floor, which to me has always been the best-- fabric market, Issey Miyake Pleats Please wannabe store, kite dealer in the hallway and plenty of Harajuku Lovers.
#7= Stop at Starbucks on the New Territories Side of the bridge before getting on train back to Kowloon. Once on train, admire sky, vegetation and Tolo Bay.
#8= return to InterConti in time for scones, clotted cream, strawberry jam for tea and a nap.
#9= Dinner at Nobu in the hotel followed by a foot massage on Nathan Road.
#10= Stare at lights from bed overlooking harbour, note all the lovers who promenade on the walkway, muse over the firepits with braziers glowing, then drift off with Mr. Chow, Chinese expression for dream time.

Loose Change

2010-11-10T20:10:00.002-08:00

With only hours left to our stay in Tokyo, I was anxious to spend down the extra change in my coin purse-- it's heavy, it's worth a fair amount and I don't see any reason to save it; Japan is not one of my regular runs.

I went to the fancy supermarket next door to the InterContinental ANA Tokyo hotel and bought two bags of thinly sliced garlic (262Y per bag-- one for me and one for my son & daughter-in-law) and a box of Mere Poulard cookies, my favorite French butter cookie. When I paid, from the coin purse, I did not feel relieved enough... so headed next door to Starbucks.

I bought Sarah a small Latte and me a small Mocha for another 700 yen, total. All in all, I spent about 1400 Y (just under $20) that was 'free' because I had the spare change. And they say you can't find anything affordable in Japan!

We had spent the morning at Tokyu Hands in Shibuya-- the flagship store and in my opinion much better than the newer store in Shinjuku at Takashimya Square. They are adding on yet another building, so there is reason to return. Before heading out, we did a search for Freshness Burger, our newest Japanese obsession, and found one 1/2 a block from Tokyu Hands-- how's that for karma? We rpinted out the map before we left the hotel.

For the uninitiated, Tokyu Hands is a type of department store that carries everything -- but specializes in crafts and DIY, and tsotchkes. Because the main store is created from several adjoined buildings, there are half floors, which makes the walk down so much fun. You can take the elevator to the top and then work your way around and down like in a funnel of fun shopping.

I did not buy the Hello Kitty pouch for MP3 player with built in speakers, but did buy up a lot of rabbit stickers for the new year (will be the Year of the Rabbit, duh). Left off the bath salts because I swear they cost less in Hong Kong...although I was wrong about the little camera I almost yesterday. I figured it would cost less on Amazon, but was wrong. Oh well. Much of the merchandise in Japan is imported and therefore outrageously expensive. I've had this theory that even Japanese products will be cheaper elsewhere, although I guessed wrong on the Sony Cypershot.

The taxi from Shibuya back to the hotel in Akasaka was over $25 -- more than lunch for three people. Taxi fares have been the biggest budget killer on this trip. The subway system is excellent, but takes so much energy that I don't like to use it for shopping trips. There's also a fair amount of dfficulty if you are changing lines as the subway lines are owned by different companies and your next ticket may or may not be compatble with the first.

We fly to Hong Kong tonight on Delta; have researched the luggage allowance online and discovered that we get three bags up to 70 pounds each. That way I can pack up all the ramen noodles I brought from the USA and havent touched. I am leaving behind the half bag of marshmellows that we needed for our group's Japanese Game Show simulation.

In fact most of the group has packed up and moed on, returning to the US today. A few will go on to Hong Kong with a day trip tomorrow to Shenzhen, PRC. Then we can talk about prices!

Kyoto Protocols

2010-11-10T20:10:00.001-08:00

coming soon

Back in Tokyo

2010-11-09T20:19:00.000-08:00

After three fabulous days (and nights) in Kyoto we are back in Tokyo and I have Internet access again -- off to Hong Kong tomorrow but more infos soon.

Tokyo Weekends

2010-11-05T22:36:00.000-07:00

Hard to believe we've been in Japan for well over a week -- and my Japanese is not getting any better. Today I had western food for the first time in the entire trip; unless an apple counts. Or a Coke...

The bad weather is over, it's hot (high 60's) and sunny and our group tour began Thursday night and has marched at a rapid pace leaving little time to do anything but collapse come afternoon or evening. Tonight we will all meet in the hotel Club Lounge with a picnic dinner from the food court at Mitsokoshi.

Last night I discovered the two massage chairs hidden in a corner of the Club Lounge and can't wait to return for a kneading. We are re-packing as tomorrow we will go to Kyoto at mid-day and then continue with out Born to Shop tour.

Most of our money has gone for taxis-- yesterday the fare from Ueno to our hotel in Akasaka was $45. We went to the newish Yodabashi store in Akihabara and went wild-- the store carries everything from electronics to makeup, with a huge kids' toy area. We stopped at Love, Merci (once my favorite adult entertainment store) but we were not impressed and left for Yodabashi, passing the girls outside on the curb in their maid outfits handing out brochures. I guess business is bad these days as everyone is cutting back.

We then whizzed one stop on the subway to Ueno for the street market and the 100 yen shop, which everyone loved. Mymotto has always been Ueno is Bueno. When Sarah and I checked it out a few days ago, we were not impressed-- but it was 10AM when we went. For yesterday's visit, at 3PM, things were bustling and it was ever so much fun. We ate chestnuts from a vendor in the street and gawked at the stalls selling Chanel makeup for USA prices-- could it be real?

Tomorrow we go to my favorite 100 yen store, Daiso in Harajuku. The Harajuku flea market has stopped operatingm but we'll be happy with the dollar store...where evrything now costs one dollar twenty.

Moving Day in Tokyo

2010-11-03T15:41:00.000-07:00

Dawn again in Tokyo -- i wish I could sleep so this must be jetlag still. Another fabulous breakfast from room service at The Pen-- sublime French toast. We stuffed ourselves and will soon get organized to make our way back to the IC ANA and real life. Soon i must decide if i will dance under the rainforest showerhead in the shower stall, or soak in the giant tub that has TV controls built alongside the wall and a natural stone chimney which is actually the water pipe, delivering water right into te tub with a neat slosh.

The towels here are the largest and deepest pile of any we have tested. In the historical novels I read to learn Japanese culture and history I am learning that the country is famous for small towels. Peninsula has turned the world upside down.

We had a small party last night in our room -- we were expecting ten, but they never showed, so we were four: me and Sarah as well as Simon Johnson and his wife Reiko. Simon is my mentor's son and has lived in Tokyo for 18 years; I was at his wedding reception in Paris some ten years ago -- hard to imagine. It is a wonderful thing when your girlfriends have grown children whom you can enjoy and befriend as well as stare at for genetic similarities.

We were to all eat under the tracks at the famed (and inexpesive) yakatori stalls that few tourists visit, but when the rest of the group didn't show, we went for a more elaborate yakatori eatery in the same area-- although this one required Reiko to translate and query whether we wanted mini-kebabs of chicken hearts, livers and/or gizzards. (No thank you.) We had hot sake, some rice dishes in fish broth-- one with chopped up sour plums and the other with extra seaweed.

I love the somewhat tatty side street along the tracks, the dozens of little cafes and outdoor stalls and the banners and signs and the energy of the streets of Tokyo. I also like that it's all in the shadow of The Peninsula Hotel, so that you can feel and enjoy these contrasts of the town.

We had already planned the after yakatori-dessert party in our room -- Sarah had gone to much trouble as hostess to get goodies from the Pen's bakery and get room service to provide wine glasses. I had bought two bottles of Plum Wine so we could have a Pepsi challenge and blind tasting. Indeed, one more glass and i would have been blind. Plum wine is one of my weaknesses. Choya is my brand.

Without extra guests, it became a family night == we got to dish the elections, the town's architecture and residential 'hoods in Tokyo and then used the Skype phone to call Simon's mother in Paris. We sent the younger generation home with fresh and perfect persimmons (from the hotel General Manager) nand several Peninsula pastries (from Sarah), allgoodies wrapped in their individual cello packs.

They left us wth the glow that part of the wonder of travel is when you know people in a foreign city and they boost you up and stand by with offers to help.

Now we will soon move to the InterConti ANA and be the people our friends know in a strange and wonderful town.

Sunny Day in Edo

2010-11-02T16:17:00.000-07:00

It was marvelous to fall asleep with eyes half open to the Tokyo skyline, looking much like NYC, to hear election prattle on CNN and to drift asleep in the best of Peninsula's beds with softest duvet. Woke early to order a true breakfast from room service.

Going to the toilet in the middle of the night was tricky, as I forgot that this Toto opens its' lid for you on approach...frightening in middle of night. Alas, it does not flush itself.

We are off to run more practice trials for our tour group -- to Ueno, Akiabara, etc. Tommorrow we'll do Harajuku preview befor heading back to the realities of Akasaka and the InterConti.

Being in The Pen teaches you the value of your big bucks-- there is no way to put a value on the luxury, the glamour of the other guests, the location, the ability of the staff to speak English and to synthesize your questions and respond helpfully. When we checked in, I hobbled on my cane. The bellboy took me to a seat in the check in area than took my place in line so I could sit. When our turn came, he brought me to the desk. Now that's training.

It was worth the price of admission just to stare at the other guests when we arrived-- a young man in early 0's, gai-in, with leather backpack and Don Johnson good looks, a casual elegance of money and style as if he was doing business here and would never go to the real world outside this hotel.

This Tokyo -- near Ginza and Chanel and the heart of the money land-- is so different from other parts of town and yet so exciting and important to see and experience. If you have only one life to live, or only a few nights in Tokyo, this is the place to be. But maybe come next week, when more of the leaves in the trees across the moat will be in fall colors.

It's only 8:30 AM and we have no place to go-- most stores open at 11AM, depatos at 10AM. If you get to Ueno too early, the stores and stalls will be closed. So we will watch Anderson Cooper and the USA election projections and save our strength for a new assault on a new day in Japan. Obiously we must search for a Moshi ice-cream stand-- Moshi is a brand with distribution in the U.S. that sells ice cream donuts (better than bagels for breakfast). They have over a dozen flavors (better than Starbucks)-- you let the frozen ice cream donut thaw for a few seconds, then bite into it. This alone is worth the price of airfare to Tokyo and a few nights in The Pen.

OMG

2010-11-02T00:58:00.000-07:00

The morning was spent researching Kyoto sights for possible inclusion in our tour (forget the Textile Center-- a major TT) and then we arrived at the station for the extra-fast train (nozumi) back to Tokyo. I cannot be the only person to note that Kyoto and Tokyo are the same letters in different orders and have similar kanji...nonetheless, we were not lost and easily got on the train and then into a taxi to The Peninsula Hotel.

I was concerned about actually getting to the hotel because we do not have a taxi card or an address in Japanese, but the taxi driver understood and knew The Pen. Amen.

A new-build, and open for only about two years, the Pen here is modern and more gorgeous than any art gallery. We just looked at each other and mouthed OMG...we seem to be in a different Tokyo than the one we left behind.

We have a junior suite overlooking the gardens of the Imperial Palace. We are just a few hundred yards from the famed railroad tracks so we had yakatori -- bento boxes on the train were duds-- and then checked out BIC Camera, the local version of Best Buy and then went in search of Frank Lloyd Wright who is, according to WIkipedia, in a museum and not much even in spirit in the famous Imperial Hotel.

The stroll along the tracks between The Pen and The Imperial is a visual and emotional treat. It's really Tokyo in all the contrasts you want to see-- gorgeous chic women and dives for chicken on a stick, banners flapping.

We stopped at 7-Eleven to buy Coke Zero for our room, but returned to find the General Manager had left a bottle of a 2004 Bordeaux in the room. That will take the edge off the travel weariness and go great with the spaghetti from room service. OMG indeed.

Japanese Hotel Dreams

2010-11-01T01:35:00.000-07:00

As we finish up one just about perfect day in Kyoto, yet dream of our return to Tokyo tomorrow to test out the newish Peninsula Hotel, we reflect on the good and odd things about the hotels we have already met:
InterConti ANA, Tokyo:
* first stop on the shuttle bus from Narita (like);
* fabulous heated toilets (ditto);
* excellent personel and buffet at Club Lounge (amen);
* smallish rooms;
* nasty check in at front desk on 2F;
* worst exchange rate in world;
* free wifi in Club Floor rooms;
* Starbucks nearby;
* marvelous gourmet supermarket a few doors away.
Okura Kyoto:
* excellent location amidst shopping;
* great shopping in basement 2 level subway station arcade;
* must pay for water in room as well as instant coffee or tea;
* wonderful exchange rate, all things considered;
* walking distance to Starbucks;
* difficult to manipulate TV for English language, moshi-moshi;
* free wifi in room (like)!
* breakfast not included-- no lounge floor or special amenities. Stunning breakfast buffet offered atop hotel with great view of Kyoto at $36 per person, USD. Secret bakery with great croissants in sub-basement 2.

On to The Pen, always our favorite mantra.

Sunny after Sunday

2010-10-31T23:42:00.001-07:00

The rain has stopped
the sun is out;
some autumn leaves,
not many.
the rate of exchange here is 77.

your turn

Money Rates

2010-10-31T16:03:00.000-07:00

We arrived in Tokyo on a Friday arround dinner time and barely made it to bed; no banks open then or Saturday. Soooo we were forced to change money in hotels automatic changer machine created to piss off Benjamin Franklin with huge insults (69.3) Yuck-- but we had no other choices.
Arrive hotel in Kyoto on Sunday, had to use their rate too, but yippee, they are sane people here and we got 77. That is a huge difference, as these things so.

Moral of the story, do not change money at 60 if you can get 75.

Even transaction fees on bank cards have to be better than the spread used at the InterConti!

Now we head off into the rain to wet our money on taxi fares. The average taxi price is $15 to a nearby location and $25 to something more elaborate--

Bullet Train to Kyoto

2010-10-31T01:58:00.000-07:00

Perhaps I am jaded after ten years of living in France, but the famous Shinkansen, bullet train of Japan, seems no different from the TGV. I must admit that the getting the tickets and onto the train business was shockingly easy.

Things can go wrong any where, of course. I am reminded of a wonderful story about Calvin Klein getting on a train in Germany for Monte Carlo and taking the one marked Monaco which is Munich, or something like that--

Anyway, the taxi took us from the InterConti ANA straight away to Tokyo Station which is under reconstruction and therefore less than charming. We went in via the East (Yaesu) Central Entrance, followed the sign in English for tickets, bought them on the spot from someone who spoke perfect English ($150 per person each way)and allowed ourselves 50 minutes to poke around the station and explore what they call First Avenue, the basement level shopping and easting district.

While there is much going on in and around Tokyo Station, it is too much for any one brain to contemplate--especially on a Sunday. Travellers swarmed around us, so we dove underground to the delightful arcade with shops and munchies, vending machines and wonderful smells of fresh cooked something or another. (Don't ask, don't tell.)

Since gift giving is part of the Japanese culture, there were many gift shops with the usual beautiful boxes of cookies and candies as well as much Hello Kitty merchandise. I found some very cute mice cookies (honest) that I will buy for the man who set the mousetraps at my home in Paso, but for now-- I didn't want the burden of extra weight. Still, it was all great fun, although schlepping even a single rolly was a pain. I had a Harajuku Lovers back-pack as carry-on and Sarah wished she too had a back-pack, I wished I'd had a mule train, but that's just me. The station was incredibly hot, so we also had to carry our coats. And shortly after arrival, I was carrying extra shopping bags.

We went to Gate 14 about 15 minutes before our train and sat the the Cafe du Gare which made us gleeful, then took the escalator up to the platform and saw that we were exactly at the spot to line up for Car 6. Everything was well-marked and easy as pie. In France, you have to know to use the train chart and must also know the alphabet in order to find where to stand. In Tokyo, it was forthright and easy.

The tickets were printed in English & Japanese therefore easy to read. We took our seats and pulled out our Kindles. Midway, I dared to try the toilet-- quite relieved to be relieved on discovering it was indeed western style, though not from Toto and not heated.

We passed through beautiful countryside and mountains and paddies and even saw the sea once past Yokohama. We got out at Kyoto Station and immediately fell into one of the retail stores in the station -- it was so cute and so crammed with attractive merchandise that we needed and gained a quick fix.

There was no line for a taxi, so we hoped into a cab and I told the driver our hotel in Japanese. He had no idea what I was saying, but understood Sarah's English just fine.

We drove through beautiful downtown Kyoto -- not a Starbucks in sight-- and ended up at the Okura Hotel, in prme location for shopping --although a little too far from the Gion district for walking...especially when it's pissing rain and you are half crippled. Then we saw the bride in her white kimono and peaked headress and knew it was an auspicious day indeed.

Dawn in Tokyo

2010-10-30T14:24:00.000-07:00

Typhoon blows
winter rain flows
warm toilet seat beckons
bladder quickens
wet is dry

your turn

Something Fishy

2010-10-29T14:27:00.000-07:00

I have suffered through my share of life's problems and insults, but today we were arrested by the Fish Police and it's hard to stop laughing. I am reminded of my son, then age five, asking the librarian, if fish fart. I should have asked the officer, just to test his language skills.

We got up at 4AM (thanks to jetlag) and pulled on jeans and down jackets, brought umbrellas (is this a typhoon???) and took a taxi to the market-- although I have been here before, nothing looked familar. There was a long line of people anxious to get tix for the tuna auction, but I knew those were limited...and all I wnated was breakfast.

We wandered around, took some fishy pix and were arrested for fish explotation and being in a forbidden fish zone. I am serious.

We said the only thing we knew how to say in our defense: sushi? We found a working man's diner and grabbed chopped sticks off the wall (Sarah to Suzy: "is that a urinal over there?") and ordered a bowl of rice with something or another -- pretty boring until Sarah discovered the giant pot of pickled ginger...then it was fab. Our idea was to stave off starvation with rich, which would hopefully cut down on how much we spent on sushi once we found the sushi.

Still searching for sushi and totally lost in translation, we evetually found the right alley and marched past the lines of tourists waiting for their turn at some place or another-- who relaly knew? We found an empty and very charming dump and had amazingly fresh and yum sushi. Total price for the two of us, with a total of nine pieces of food, was about $55. No tipping. Amen.

I had used the cash changing machine in the hotel at 4AM although the rate of exchange was posted at 69.7 (ouch) so before dawn, I had spent $100 on a taxi and breakfast. But god, it was fun.

Hiroshima Mon Amour

2010-10-29T05:06:00.000-07:00

Sooooo, here we are in Tokyo and ready for bed since we didn't sleep on the plane and sheesh, this is exhausting. But since I filled my little notebook with four pagesof notes just while driving on the Friendly Bus from Narita, I figured I might as well share. Sarah is already showered and snuggled down...

Our plane (UA 853)was a half hour late leaving SFO due to a mechanical problem, so we arrived on time a half hour late (huh?) and the lovely geisha with the wheelchair was right there waiting for me. This is, without doubt, the only way to travel long-haul and if I did not have spinal injury, I would invent one or be smart enough to call ahead on a trip and order the service, which gets you and those accompanying you through the lines and check-points in a breeze. And you don't even tip in Japan!

We did not go through the regular enter here line because of the wheelchair, but were delighted with our no-line entry and the cute machine that took a photo of the face and gobbled up your fingerprints all at the same time. There was a video showing how to do it, in case your Japanese isn't fluent. It's a little NEC computer that has a Mt. Fuji screen saver and says things like 'look here' and 'thank you' in animation formats. This is even better than the fancy toilets we have come to expect.

We got to the Friendly bus counter and were told there was a bus to our hotel, the ANA InterConti in Akasaka, in five minutes, so we rolled outta there in a hurry and didn't get to check out the arrivals area of Narita that much. I paid for both our tix with a credit card-- 3,000 yen each, or about $36 to $50 depending on who is giving you the exchange rate. Jean Chatsky says Capital One doesn't charge a transaction fee on international charges, so I wanted to test it out-- I seem to remember that they have changed policy and now charge the same 3% upcharge that everyone else adds to your bill. Stay tuned.

At the bus counter, everything is as up to date as in Kansas City-- in English and digitally arranged and color coded. You get the times of the next two buses and the departure slot on the pavement written in a little circle. Ours was #11, right outside the door. The luggage was on-loaded and we got baggage claims then clamored onboard. Seamless and easy; so far, so good.

A local gentleman in a Friendly jumpsuit paraded down the aisle with a big yellow sign in Japanese and English telling us to fasten our seat belts and off we went, past the airport Hilton and past the First Wood Hotel, which made me wonder if it was one of those Love Hotels you read about in guidebooks. Despite the fact that the Japanese drive on the 'wrong' side of the road, everything was so normal and simple that there was a reassuring air of possibility.

Yes, there are bathrooms on the bus.

If you think this is a horribly foreign place where you cannot adapt, consider these facts:
* you read left to right, like Hebrew;
* you drive on the left side of the road, like London;
* you speak the translitered ts sound in Japanese, like in Russian;
* you can spot the exit signs because the kanji are the same as in Chinese;
* you can tell you are near Akasaka when you spot the Tokyo Tower, a copy of the Eiffel Tower, just like in Paris.

See? It's all very simple if you travel enough.

Disney is to your left as you drive into town; you can't miss it. The traffic didn't build up until we hit our exit, marked toward Ginza, passed the rear of the hotel, saw a view to what looked like the George Washington Bridge and endured a mass of sphaghetti like overlfies of highway and white cars (mostly Toyotas). The ANA InterConti is the first stop; most people got off the bus. I was quietly singing one of the songs from Pacific Overtures -- 'Welcome to Kanagawa'. Although we were not really in Kanagawa; It's still the only welcome to Japan song I know.

At the InterConti ANA, you take the interior escalator up to the 2F to the lobby; you have to bring your own luggage or ask someone to help you-- there were no trolleys or dollies. Yet a non-porter person (a Friendly guy!) was cheerful and willing to help. Check in went smoothoy, although if you think the French are rude, get a load of this team. And don't even look at the hotel's posted rate of exchange at 70 to 1...we will find a bank first thing in the morning and hope for better news. Since the bank rate is beter than 80 to one, this seems criminal.

Our room is on a lounge floor and is lovely, but small --as are most hotel rooms in Tokyo-- the bathroom at least has a heated toilet with self-flush trick, amen. The Club Lounge is stunning and we hope to make dinner out of their snacks in the near future, but we were 15 minutes too late tonight. We tried to find a cute neighborhoody place for a bite, but walked into something so local that no one spoke English and I forgot the Japanese word for water.

In fact, I could only think of it in Swahili, which is not too helpful here. We found Starbucks (across the street) and the subway (next door) as well as Seven-11 and Family Mart(you cannot buy a family there) ...but were unable to buy a SIM card for my unlocked phone. Another task for tomorrow.

We have two deliscious looking double beds in the room and soft down pillows and duvet as well as a buckwheat pillow. There's tons of hot water in the shower and the toilet is always a pleasure.

The best news of the evening was the word that the General Manager of the hotel is a Scotsman. We plan to kidnap him tomorrow and have our way with him. At the very least, perhaps he can make Tokyo seem less foreign. And to think, I've been here many times before and do not intimidate easily. You are surprised I speak your language? Tomorrow will be better, Sarah is mumbling. Right.

Bangkok Bangles

2010-08-28T01:47:00.000-07:00

Hi Suze,

Imitation may be the most sincere form of flattery, but I doubt that our friend, jewelry designer Matt Laurenza, is pleased. "Inspirations" of his beautiful bracelets are available in markets and malls all over Bangkok.

To be fair, these copies can't begin to compete with the real thing. Upon close examination, most are cheaply made and the stones don't have the bling of the sapphires and precious stones used by Matt.

Take a look at the photos... Bracelet number one, with gold plating, was displayed in the window of a fancy jewelry shop in an upscale mall. It was very expensive (close to $900) and as far as I know, Matt doesn't use gold. I found the second one in a discount clothing store. It was offered to me at a "special discount of 50%", which brought the cash price down to about $58.

I also found very cheap imitations on the 5th floor of the Platinum Fashion Mall (next to Panthip Plaza) for 450 Thai baht, or about $12. When I tried to photograph these beauties, I was asked to put my camera away!

MCL Design jewelry is available at Lane Crawford in Hong Kong, and at Neiman Marcus and Bergdorf Goodman in the US.

with hugs,
Sarah

Bug Balms in Bangkok

2010-08-25T04:20:00.001-07:00

Hey Suze,

I hope your flight from Honkers to San Francisco was, uh, a "breeze" and that you're now safely home in Paso with Tof and Junior. Please give the boys big hugs and tell them that I miss them!

After saying "fly safe" to you at HKG, I boarded a quick AirAsia flight to Bangkok and arrived at the Peninsula Hotel mid-afternoon. My dinner date with Chef Philip and Kunchalee was set for 7:30 at the Pen's riverside Thiptara, so I had time for a quick trip to Watsons (the Hong Kong chain of chemists). I was on a mission - to find mosquito repellent.

Do you remember the outdoor dinner we had in Chiang Mai a couple of years ago? The one where we feasted on Thai curry while the mosquitos munched on our legs? Hoping to avoid a similar situation without being obvious, I bought two anti-bite products. I knew the black rubber bracelet would look chic with my Matt Laurenza bracelet, and the green skin patches would be hidden by my dress.

Little did I know how potent these products were... When I got into the elevator on the 32nd floor to go down to dinner, the other occupants gave me dirty looks and started sneezing! By the time I arrived at the table, I was tipsy from the smell and my arm was starting to itch, so I ripped the bracelet off and placed it discreetly on the ground.

As it turned out, there was no need for precaution. There are (scent free!) anti-mosquito devices hidden in the folliage around the restaurant. Our Thai dinner was fabulous and bug-free.

More soon,
XXSarah

Stanley Revisited

2010-08-21T21:49:00.000-07:00

Old China Hands will remember when the fishing village of Stanley was fun to shop and actually had bargains. It's so touristy now that Haagen Dazs ice cream cones cost $5 USD for one scoop and the international tongues we overheard went from French to German to Hebrew in a matter of seconds.

Things are cleaner and brighter and wider and more costly than ever before; weekend crowds are hard to bear. IT was interesting to see how many families were out and what fun teenagers seemed to be having. They were not born to shop and will have to be taught.

Our favorite store there is still Sun-Moon, a jobber where we always buy Tommy Bahama overruns-- a men's silk sirt costs $15. The taxi there was another $15 each way and the ice cream was $5 each so the shirt really cost $50, just about what it would cost at a real Tommy Bahama store.

Wan Chai

2010-08-21T21:48:00.000-07:00

Tragedy in the Lanes

2010-08-21T21:40:00.000-07:00

We returned to Hong Kong after a delay in Manila but an easy-breezy flight on Philippine Air in a big 747. Manil really is the perfect weekend getaway from Hong Kong, although our stay was weekday...giving us a final weekend in Honkers.

The Conrad Hotel was waiting, a luxury reminder of why we love this brand and how good it is to have a view of the harbour from this side of Hong Kong and still be perched on top of a shopping mall (Pacific Place).

The glories of shopping Central beckoned our notebooks, so we set off for Shanghai Tang and Blanc de Chine on Pedder Street (both still great) and then headed to The Lanes to checkout Sam Wo, a handbag broker (so to speak). Alas, Sam has moved from his basement shop up to the 6th floor (room 601) of the building above and frankly, he should have waste his, or our, time. It was pathetic. Old fans of this store may consider a good weep.

Further down the Lane used to be a shop called Ribbon Company that sold junky Chinese souvenirs at everyday low prices. They have either changed their name or been bought out by Elegant Tang, but the stores are in the same locations and much the same.

The Lanes are much changed over the past years (as is all of HKG) and have little charm left.

Lunch in the Time of Peninsula

2010-08-21T21:37:00.000-07:00

For our final lunch in Manila, we decided to return to Spices retaurant at the Peninsula Hotel in Makati City where pan-Asian food is served and where we had our first meal in Manila and were knocked out by the glamour and the flavors.

We still haven't learned too much about the local dishes, but we are very happy with Thai and Viet Nam dishes that we already know and love and which are available on many cartes in assorted restaurants around town-- Spices in jsut one of the best...plus it is built in the round with a koi pond surrounding the glassed-in pagoda eatery and a view outwards to the plush landscape.

RIIR and the New Creativity

2010-08-19T00:08:00.000-07:00

Perhaps the most amazing thing about shopping in Manila is the out-there creativity...in all price ranges. Accessories are especially works of art, but the growing fashion business here is using local materials and going every which way, especially in the fiber arts.

One of my favorite new discoveries is a brand called RIIR, meaning r to r or rags to riches. This lind of accessories is made by street people and sold for their benefit. I loaded up on several different sizes of zip pouches made from potholder worms for $5-10 each. I bought in solid colors, but there were some multi-color combos, just like the potholders we made when we were ten years old.

I then bought some hemp pouches in the market at the Mall at Green Hills, for about $2 each-- these in plaids that would co-ordiante with the potholder weaves to make charming gift sets.

Memo to Mrs. Marcos

2010-08-19T00:03:00.000-07:00

Dear Imelda

Perhaps you do not remember me, it was about thirty years ago that we met and you knew me as Suzy Kalter when you tried to bribe me. Well, perhaps bribe is too strong a word. It was 1980 when you offered me a first class ticket to come to Manila to judge a fashion show. I know, I know, it wasn't me, it was the fact that I worked at People Magazine and you thought you could buy a little extra favor or status for your usband's regime and your fashion shows. Alas, I was not tempted then and it took me this long to realize I needed to come shopping in Manila.

In doing so, I have new empathy for you and am so sorry at the way the world has treated you and sneered at your shoe collection. Having been here for three days and been to countless stores and malls, I understand that Philippines has amazing accessories and that you were probably just doing your patriotic duty to buy from everyone.

Surely I have never seen so many shoes and bags. In fact, there's a Shoe Mall. There are cheapie brands; there are3 expensive brands. There are handbags that are so important you want to salute. This is a ocuntry made for accessories and history has misunderstood you, old friend.

I do wonder how many handbags you had in those famous closets; frankly, I find the handbags totally irresitable. One store in Greenbelt 5, Celestina, has the most incredible croc, shagreen and antique bags, clutches and purses that you could weep from their spector. Or pray. Yeah, that's your mottot, eat, pray, shop...I get it!

Dinner in the Bag

2010-08-18T23:55:00.000-07:00

Having moved to the InterConti Hotle in Philippines, we are now in a more commercial district of Makati City, the high end enclave of Manila. Down the carpark from our hotel sits an arcade of local fast food eateries. When we passed by yesterday, enroute to Rustan's the Saks Fifth Avenue of Manila, we looked into the windows and got greedy with desire. For dinner last night, Sarah headed out to the Noodle Shop North Park for take-out. You can also dial 73737 for delivery.

When Sarah returned to the room, she was carrying a flat box so I thought she had decided on pizza instead of noodles. Nope! The noodles are sold dry and laid out flat in a logo-encrusted pizza box. You crumble them up, or pour over, the sauce and then add an assortment of spices to taste. Here in our swanky hotel, we did not have the dishes for serving, so Sarah drumbled and dunked.

I spent the meal digging my chopsticks into a tub of garlic rice, my new favorite dish here in Manila. The garlic rice at The Pen was the best ever, but this was OK. Dinner cost about $18 and consisted of noodles and sauce, rice, a tub of spare ribs and a tub of sesame garlic fried chicken parts.

There were many items on the menu that we did not recognize; Tagalog not being one of my ten languages. Alas, we have no idea what Bola Bola Siopao is or even ried Savory Taho Squares.

Although I do take Ambien to sleep when I am on the road, I clearly remember getting up in the middle of the night to finish the rice.

Hallelujah! Glorietta!

2010-08-18T18:11:00.000-07:00

We've had to give up our beloved Peninsula Hotel int he name of our work but tumbled into the just as beloved InterContinental, also in Makati City. Across the street, we have all five of the Glorietta Malls, including a Krsipy Kreme, Auntie Anne's, Marks & Spencer, Debenhams, several local department stores, and the local version of Borders, called National Book City ...and so much more.

The gem of the area is the department store Rustan's, which I would liken to Saks Fifth Avenue, Neiman-Marcus or maybe Barney's. Especially important is the 4th floor with its home style as well as its corner nook for local fashions, most of them made from the national fibers and many looking as if they were created by the Issey Miyake line Pleats, Please.

Greenbelt in Shopping

2010-08-18T18:10:00.000-07:00

We have explored Makati City's Greenbelt series of shopping malls and find ourselves blown away. Very often women tell me they have earned a black belt in shopping; none has ever mentioned a green belt.

The Green Belt of Makati City is an artificial park laid through the center and surrounded by small fancy malls, each with a number. Greenbelt 5 is the most chic, but Greenbelt 4 houses Hermes and plenty of big name designers, so it is right up there in the fancy-smancy department. The attitude seems to start as you get into the higher numbers, Greenbelt 1 is actually the beginning of the complex and consists of the five-part Glorietta Mall. This is decidedly real-people with a branch of Marks & Spencer and Krispy Kreme.

The InterContinental Hotel-- the first hotel built in Makati City -- is located across the street from the Glorietta buildings as well as the famous Rustan department store and its separate Fresh! Supermarket. There's also a National Book Store in the area, various fast food joints (as mentioned in another blog entry), the SM department store (Attention Walmart Shoppers) and a bevy of the exact same stores you will find in Greenbelt 5. The difference, besides a few miles, is that Greenbelt 5 is extremely fancy. Even the M&S there seems like a different store from the branch at Glorietta.

Greenbelt 5 is closer to The Peninsula end of the Makati City area and also close to the Shangri-La, another luxury 5-star hotel. Most of the hotels have free shuttle buses that make the circuit. Shoppers note: shuttles usually begin at 10:30 AM and run every two hours. Stores do not open until 11AM in most cases.

The Green Belt itself is a meandering park with its own chapel and various art works. Cafes edge the park and sidle up to the malls; there's not only Starbucks for coffee drinkers, but several local coffee brews.

Greenbelt 5 hosts an entire floor (2F) of local designers; jsut go from store to store to see the most amazing fashion and accessories at everyday low prices. Sarah and I each bought handbags for under $100 a piece-- very chic handbags. Mine is glazed golden linen with embroidered beads and Sarah's is navy rattan with navy leather trim.

If you feel you cannot walk between the various malls, you can take a taxi from any of the luxury hotels here, it costs about $1 to be dropped at the Greenbelt of your choice. You just have to make sure you know how to get there. Our last taxi driver said he knew where the Greenbelt was, but not where the various numbers began or ended. Sheesh!

Manila Vanilla

2010-08-16T21:04:00.000-07:00

I went to Douglas MacArthur High School in San Antonio, Texas...this is perhaps the only explanation I have for making a trip to Manila. I am not returned; I am a first-timer, so read my lips: OMG.

Arrived late last night and fell into our beds at The Pen, what a crazy travel day from Shenzhen to Hong Kong and then to Manila. Woke up with the notion of heading to one of the fancy districts for shopping but suddenly got the inspiration to go to the Green Hills Mall, about 30 minutes from the swank of Makati Ctiy (where The Pen and all other luxury hotels are located) and past much urban sprawl, beyond the second largest mall in Asia (that's for tomorrow) and right into a most amazing shopping destination.

After a quick tour of the shoe portion of the mall (after all, this is Manila) we headed into the main hall which is half junky fakes' dealers and half jewelry mart with an emphasis on South Sea Pearls. Sarah went mad with yearning for pearls, while I turned my attention to jewel encrusted headbands for $5 each...I hope I didn't overpay!

There was more Harajuku Lovers merchandise, just as in Shenzhen, but some of it in different patterns. I couldn't live without one more addition to my collection but endured serious and rugged bargaining to get the price from $15 to $10.

Most of the fakes looked, uh, fake, but the jewelery was sensational. Behind these alleys of shopping strips, there was a local handicrafts market, a department of Our Lady religious souvenirs (this appears to be a very religious country) and then an electronics and appliances showroom, for washer-dryer, fridge, large screen TV, etc. Surely there were people selling DVDs, but I never heard them singing.

But then, it's only lunch time.

On the Go with Van Gogh

2010-08-14T01:55:00.000-07:00

Although I kept saying we were off to Darfur, what I really meant was Dafen, the village of artists that is so famous that television series have been filmed to document the phenom and I have been dreaming of my own version of the Mona Lisa with my face painted into it. Hey, don't laugh, you can be in the Last Supper, you can have your dog in a Warhol pose, or perhaps even Lichenstein with cartoon bubble speak.

Dafen (say Dah-fen) is a suburb of Shenzhen, not a quaint little Chinese fishing village filled with thatched huts or anything else dreamy that you are imagining. You get there on highways; you pass a few greenbelts, but mostly there is urban sprawl -- the New China. Now here's the really cute part: our driver mistakenly took us to the wrong part and so we ended up with some insider wholesale places before he came running after us, waving arms and barking in Chinese, tugging at our arms to retreat to his waiting taxi. We thought perhaps he had run into a 'cousin' with a great deal for us, but in fact, he took us to what was, we immediately realized, the village we were seeking.

Dafen art village is behind a Checkpoint Charlie kind of barrier, but its arm is a hand holding a paint brush. The village is very Greenwich Village 1970's and cute, with Chinese high rises towering behind. There are coffee houses and bistrots and little lanes, all chockablock with stalls and shops selling orginal art, resin sculptures, calligraphy, antiquities as if from Xi'an, painted koi in ponds on oil and more Van Gogh that even a madman would imagine. The only thing missing is Elvis on velvet.

This Band of USB

2010-08-14T01:53:00.000-07:00

We have been to the electronics malls in Shenzhen before, so we were looking forward to another visit with much anticipation. My son Aaron needed a Christmas gift, and maybe a birthday gift as well, and I always like to see what's ticking, even if I can't figure out how it works...or what to press.

Low Down on Lo Wu

2010-08-14T01:47:00.000-07:00

To many foreign visitors to Hong Kong, Shezhen means Lowu Commercial Center, a mall of elaborate stalls selling fake everything. While Sarah and I have learned there is a lot more to Shenzhen than the Lowu border crossing and this tacky mall, we still have to pay our respects.

We now cross into China at Lok Ma Chau, a gorgeous new border crossing and taxi to our hotel. We began this journey at the Ritz-Carlton in Futian Fiancial District. After unloading in our gorgeous suite, we fled luxury for the down and dirty. We've learned to make many visits to Lowu rather than try to tackle it in one day, so we headed out for Visit Number One, with our Parisian bought fabrics in hand to find our regular tailor and see what was new in the world of copyright infringement.

Tomorrow we will head back, but our number one taught us this much:
* Cath Kidston is the new Louis Vuitton;
* Harajuku Lovers is hotter than chili powder;
* Chanel resin watches are hidden in the ceiling and cost $20 each. Who cares if they keep time?

Mini-me

2010-08-14T01:41:00.000-07:00

OK, so we're upgraded to a suite in the Peninsula Hotel in Kowloon, and there,on the desk, is this little card that says that people who book suites get three free hours in the hotel's new Mini Cooper Stretch to go shopping. Did someone say shopping?

The Pen, of course, is famous for their Rolls Royce fleet, painted a deep hunter green that is now known as Peninsula Green. The custom minis are the same green,fitted inside and out with custom details and Rolls cognac leather interiors and a stretched frame to fit you and your shopping and a friend or two.

Along with the car, comes the use of an iPhone which is already programmed to the driver, the hotel and the hotel concierge. You jsut push or slide the button bar and voila, someone is there to help you. Our driver, Philip, waited for us and even walked us up hills and around Central and Hollywood Road as we did the town and the tunnels up proud. We asked him to drive us to Paris, but alas...

The minis were unveiled in Honkers this year and will soon launch in the US as well as other Asian cities. While the luxury group will open a hotel in Paris in 2012, the driver still couldnt figure out how to get us there from here. Oh well.

Sarah hits the Streets of Honkers

2010-08-11T17:02:00.000-07:00

Born to Shop Editorial Director Sarah Lahey got to Hong Kong several days ahead of me, having not injured her L4-5 vertabrae in the process. She tested new hotels, went to some outlets and had a wild time in the name of a serious research trip, leaving me this note on the pillow when I arrived, three days later:

Welcome Home to Honkers, Suze

What a trip so far! As you know, one of my travel tricks when flying home from Bangkok (always on that 6am United flight through Tokyo) is to book my final night at the BKK Novotel Hotel. It's five minutes from the terminal and has a frequent shuttle right to United's check-in counter. It's also a fab 4star hotel, with secret ties to the Peninsula Group.

Since you weren't meeting me for a couple days, I decided to give the Novotel Citygate hotel in HKG a try, this one five minutes from the international arrivals gate at HKG. Not only was it covenient to Hong Kong's airport, but the Citygate outlet mall, (Hong Kong's only outlet center) begins just off the Novotel lobby. My flight arrived in the evening, so I hobbled off the plane, onto the hotel shuttle bus and was in my bed, dreaming of the next days' outlet adventures within an hour of touchdown.

After a great sleep and even better buffet breakfast, I headed straight to the shops. It was late Sunday morning and the mall was in full swing. Little did I know that this outlet center is a weekend destination for Hong Kong's young trendy fashionistas and families. It was mobbed! I began to weave through the shoppers, and decided that while there were bargains to be found, Sunday wasn't the day to do it.

Most of the clothing was small; US sizes 0, 2 and 4 were the norm, but I did find larger sizes in the two Max Mara outlets. The Aerosoles shoe store had current styles for about the same price as in the US.

The problem was that all the shops were crowded and jetlag was making me grouchy, so I had no patience for waiting around for a fitting room, or standing in a queue of 10 or so people to pay. Exhausted, I headed to the lower level to Taste, the big upmarket and of-the-moment-chic supermarket. This was where I bought my Sunday dinner - sliced roast duck, French cheese, fruit and a baguette - all for about US$13.

I went back to the hotel, packed up my bag and picnic and transfered to the Novotel Nathan Road in glorious downtown Mong Kok, on the Kowloon side of Hong Kong. It's a boutique hotel, much smaller than the large stay-and-fly hotels, and the location is perfect for shopping Kowloon. It's a five minute walk to the Jade Market, five minutes to the Temple Street Market, and five minutes to the Jordan MTR.

Now that I was in the Heart of Hong, I had the brilliant idea to leave town. That's right, I decided to hop on the MTR to return to the Citygate outlets on Monday morning. I felt I hadn't given it a fair shot on my first visit, as the crowds and jetlag made me crazy. I'm so glad I did. Weekdays are the way to do this mall.

My second visit to the mall was fun, successful and easy;it was a 25 minute ride from the Jordan station on the MTR to Citygate station which is located right in the middle of the outlet center.

The Citygate complex –more than 90 shops in all-- is the first and only outlet mall in Hong Kong, where most shops offer discounts of 30 – 70%. The mix includes international big names such as Burberry, Escada, DVF, Kate Spade and Bally. There's Mango and Pedder Warehouse, a local firm that sells mostly catch me if you can shoes and bags. I found great prices on last years' bags at Lancel.

If you like American style malls, this one won't disappoint. Having just traveled to Europe to visit the stunning Chic Shopping Outlet villages in Barcelona, Brussels and Paris, it was difficult and unfair to compare the two styles of shopping.. I was disappointed that I didn't find more clothing in larger sizes (for big gals, like me)at Citygate, but afterall, this is an Asian market. All said, however, I'd go back to Citygate. Combined with a convenient first or last night at the airport Novotel, it's a good bet.

Head to the E-spa and meet me for tea in the lobby of The Pen,
love, Sarah

First Class Flyer

2010-08-11T16:49:00.000-07:00

So here we are in our suite of the glorious Peninsula Hotel in Kowloon, watching the sun dance like diamonds across the Harbour and desperately trying to figure out how to pack for todays adventure into the PRC-- four nights in Shenzhen followed by four more nights in Manila.

I'm not at all certain how I got here. Something about taking the bus to SFO, asking for an upgrade to business class, being laughed at and settling into my extended economy seat 22K with the good luck of an empty seat next to me. I attempted to inflate my brand new First Class Sleeper device, but failed miserably -- perhaps Vicodin takes your breathe away. Found a giant hunk of football player sized guy in the row ahead of me, dreamed of an episode of House wherein the germs are passed by him blowing on my gasket and asked him for a blow job, so to speak.

I told him not to go all the way, but he did anyway and the giant life raft of a contraption could not fit into the seat along with a perosn, or even a mouse. I let out some air (hey that' wasn't me!) and tried again-- still too bulky. After take off and a few magazine and clicks of the Kindle, i wedged the First Class Sleeper into the space between my body and the window (I always book a window seat for long haul) and slept blissfully for ten hours. The gizzie worked as a shelf for my head and kept me level and comfy. It was worth the $29 after all; bought on amazon.com with free delivery to my home (not the airport).

Was meet at the gate in Honkers by my wheelchair attendant as well as a golf cart from the Peninsula Hotel. They didn't even know I was wounded, they do this for all their guests! Went through a separate, private line at immigration, a red coat got my bags and I was rolled into my waiting Rolls. Pas mal, as we say at home. Now that's first class.

The Shadow of Your Souris

2010-07-16T10:45:00.000-07:00

There's no doubt in my mind: I saw the mouse exit the box on Day Two of my move into this house in Paso Robles, California. Considering that the furniture and boxes had been warehoused in Marseille, Anvers, Oakland and San Jose, there is no way of really knowing if this was an American mouse or an EU mouse.

I thought I saw him make a dash for the open door that allows the air conditioning and the dogs to escape. And the mice. In subsequent days, I thought I saw a shadow, but he was a quick one and I decided I was nuts.

Until last night. He seems to live in my bedroom now and likes to dart behind the desk, the bookcase and out into the hall. Back and forth. He's brown; he's sorta cute. He seems a little disoriented. Maybe it's cultural.

The dogs have not seemed to care. Toffee looked up at the movement once, slowly jumped off the bed, yawned and trotted over to his dog bed near the desk where the mouse lives. Junior Mint farted with boredom.

I have no picture to post. I cannot name the mouse Ratatouille, because that would be Rat for short. Besides, I was born in the Year of the Rat (like Shakespeare).

I am somewhat concerned about Bubonic Plague. I know that mice carry fleas and fleas are the vector for Plague. At first I thought maybe that was the same as free Botox, but then I realized I had Botulism mixed up with Bubonic. Now I need to find a bulging can of contaminated food, feed it to the mouse who can transmit it to the fleas who can...

A Moveable Feast

2010-07-07T16:29:00.000-07:00

My international shippers, who have mostly been terrific through this ordeal, and my friends at BonjourParis.com, have asked for the whole story on the move from France to California, so here it is -- with info that may help others through such a move!

I sold my house in Provence last December to some friends who happened to see that I noted on my web site (www.suzygershman.com) that I was going to put the house up for sale. It never went up for sale. They bought it. The euro-dollar exchange was $1.47.

But this is not a story about fluctuating currencies, the bank that lost my money for six weeks while the euro fell further (final transaction $1.32), or even about doing business with friends. We all know about that one, anyway.

This story is about what happens when you decide to ship some things from France – be it a few pieces of furniture or a household worth of goods.

My side of this story has a catch to it that may not apply to the average shopper or shipper: most of my goods were shipped into France ten years ago from my home in Westport, Ct. They are classified as “Returned American Goods”. The few pieces of French furniture that I would send, or had previously sent, were antiques over 100 years old – this is also an important consideration per U.S. duties and taxes.

Three years ago, I sent some of my things from Paris to San Antonio, having interviewed many shippers in Paris. I chose the firm with the handsome ad in FUSAC, the UK headquarters and the American spokesman. What a relief it was to negotiate in English.

Although they packed my goods; most of the dishes arrived in smithereens. The groupage was delayed three times and in the end, it took six months to see my shards again. I would certainly never use them again. I still wince when I think of my destroyed dishes.

The next move, two years ago, I used Schmidt & Kahlert, a French firm recommended by my friend Sally. I got estimates from five other movers for the shipping of five cubic meters (mostly furniture). I had devis from all the big names, such as Grospiron (who had done my local moves within Paris and is an excellent firm) and anyone else I found in FUSAC or online. S&K came in with the lowest estimate. The shipment was sent and received; the hand-painted buttery yellow armoire dated 1836 on the back came through without a scratch and was rebuilt without a word or a gripe. The experience was thrilling.

After agreeing to the sale of the house before Christmas last year, my first notion was to bring only my family pieces – a few valuable antiques. The purchasers made it clear they didn’t want my other furniture and didn’t even seem to appreciate it when I agreed to leave some of the beds. They were anxious to paint the walls white and play house, so I was left with the 30 year old Le Crueset. I began the shipping dance with a new group of carriers, including Schmidt & Kahlert.
I soon learned:

• Whether you bring 5m3 or 15m3, the price is more or less the same – it’s the one time charges that are a bitch;
• It cost less (significantly less) to send the furniture from France to California than to Texas (go figure);
• S&K was again the least expensive and my contact there spoke and wrote fluent English.

Although some moving companies charge more for high season, S&K would not add on an upcharge since I was a repeat customer. So I signed the bon du commande and booked my move; booked it three months in advance as I had to have a very specific day of the week due to Market Day in my village in Provence.

The contract read that I would pack and unpack the non-fragile items (books; bed linen) and they would pack (and unpack) everything else. This would become a crucial issue later on.
*******

When I have serious French-American cultural questions in Provence, I have always turned to my resident guru Walter Wells, who has lived in France for about 30 years.

Over coffee at the Universal Café on my town square, Walter and I discussed the intricacies of the French end of an international move. I explained that I had a wine cellar filled with bottles that could not be sent to America (requires a special license to import alcohol) as well as many bottles of high quality brand name booze, most of them un-opened. Estimated value of this stash was about 500 euros.

Walter and I agreed that if I gave the movers the wine and booze as their tip, I did not need to add a cash tip—they would happily resell it and make some profit. So that was the plan…until my crew showed up, turned out to be Germans who spoke flawless English and were delighted with the liquid, but also required a 50 euro cash tip.

It was an easy enough moving day for me – I had done all my packing ahead of time, scrounging up free boxes from my local Point P hardware store and the city dump. The Guys – two young men in their mid-twenties—arrived on schedule and cheerfully and carefully packed my precious breakables.

They loaded the truck with the finesse of an MIT engineer. While I sweated the facts, they kept assuring me that it was all going to fit and that I was within my size limit. I began to have horrible fantasies that I had exceeded my ‘survey’ and would have a buffet or two left behind on the docks.

During the survey, the visiting agent told me I had between 15 and 18 cubic meters; the final devis said I was being charged for 20, so I could make one last “free” trip to Isle sur Sorgue. In the end, it cost more or less the same thing to bring a little, or bring a lot. I brought a lot.

The S&K people were 100% efficient and consistent. I received an email telling me the day my goods were loaded onto the ship. I received another email telling me when my ship sailed and when it would arrive in Oakland.

Even the immediate part after arrival in Oakland was fairly smooth and professional. I was selected for a random Homeland Security X-ray for which I had to pay $67. I was very grateful that the US government saw fit to protect itself from my 20 year old bed linens and 150 year old spinning wheel.

The same freight forwarding agents that handled one of my previous shipments was again in charge and was informative and helpful. After the X-ray, the world came apart.

Despite the fact that I am a three hour drive from the port of Oakland, I was put into a holding period for delivery and told this was the busiest time of year; to be patient. I was told I’d have my goods within another two weeks or so. God created the world in seven days, a transatlantic crossing is six days and trucking fewer than 200 miles would take two weeks.

I had scheduled houseguests without understanding that this was going to be an extended piece of torture. I was living in an almost empty house, again, without understanding the extended times involved. My ship came to port on June 17. For some silly reason, I thought I’d have delivery a week later. Silly moi.

*****

International shipping is a miracle. That anyone gets anything is totally amazing. My furniture left my house in Provence and went to Marseille. From there it went to the port of Anvers and traveled through The Panama Canal to Oakland. From Oakland it went through US Customs and Homeland Security and then went to a warehouse in San Jose. It came to my house over three months after it left my house in France. God only knows how many people handled the shipment.

With much pressure and a fair amount of begging, the relocation firm in San Jose made a date for delivery. Indeed, the freight forwarder in San Diego turned me over to a relocation firm in San Jose. So many cooks, so little broth.

Two tall, good-looking guys arrived with a giant truck and began to unload while I checked off the numbers on each piece. Items without numbers (there were about a dozen of these) went into a special part of my garage to be inventoried when the truck was empty.

I baked home -made chocolate chip cookies for these guys; I fed them cold soft drinks, gave them a bottle of local wine with a lesson on area specialties and added in a $100 cash tip. In exchange, one of them gave me a lot of attitude…and left me high and dry and up Shit Creek without a mattress.

Let me make a tangential aside at this point. My beds were two matching Sealy Posturpedic mattresses which were made up in my Provencale guest room as a king-size bed, using American sheets.

French beds, for those who don’t have a clue, are not the same size as US beds and therefore take different sheets. My beds came from America and were of a quality superior to any French bed. A set of twins is made up of four pieces: two boxsprings and two mattresses.

When we went through the entire inventory, I knew immediately that I was missing a mattress and had three out of four parts to a bed. The remaining mattress was not only useless, but in a replacement situation, I would need to find an identical twin for king-making purposes or buy two new mattresses.

Meanwhile, back at the tract house, I had been told by the freight forwarders that the relocation firm’s movers would unpack all fragile items and put them on a flat surface, but not put them away in shelves. I was told to check china bins for damage and report damage or loss immediately on the paperwork.

Instead, the movers never brought all of the boxes into the house. They left tall towers of boxes of fragile goods stacked in the garage, at a height impossible to reach by any mere mortal. Of the things I did unpack, there were a few broken dishes, including my most valuable piece of ceramic – a Bjorn Winblad tulipiere that had belonged to my mother and was her most prized possession.

When the Handsome Hunks decided they were finished, they presented me with a sheaf of paperwork, including a waiver saying that they had unpacked the dishes.
“Why should I sign this?”
“Because this is America and we never do everything we say we will because we’re on a schedule.”

So I signed. Spare me from attitude like that.

I was immediately sorry that I signed and didn’t make them perform their contractual duties, the smart alecky SOBs. I was also tired and resentful and pissed off.

When I tried to register the missing and broken pieces of furniture, as instructed by the freight forwarder, I was told that I could only do so with the shipping numbers. These numbers were located on the wrapping paper which has been removed and destroyed.

The final straw was the tirade on why these guys would not even attempt to rebuild my French furniture (“The day doesn’t have enough hours, lady.”) So they left and I cried.
*****

Bill and Tom are in my bedroom as I write, they are wearing helmets with lights, like coal miners. Their ponytails are secure, to keep hair away from their eyes as they peer into the depths of my walnut armoire and build it, and then re-build it when they discover the sides are upside down.

These are the Pros from Dover, sent by my international shipping agents S&K, in what is called a Third Party Procedure. Most of my French farm furniture is a few hundred years old and impossible to assemble unless you are French, or have put together several hundred of these babies, as have Bill and Tom, who have been antiques experts for over 30 years. Vive la difference.

Moving Made Easy is yet another firm contracted in this international move – S&K has been able to send these guys over here, putting the number of sub-contractors at five. They drove 60 minutes from Santa Maria, California to get here to rescue me – that was the closest town that had the experts guaranteed to be able to remontez this sucker. God bless S&K..and do they know where my missing mattress is?

Having antique furniture brought to America can be a problem because older pieces, especially rustic and farm pieces, use a series of pegs and dowels, but no metal hooks or hinges. These items are easily demontez in France, where boys probably stand at the knee of pere/ papa or learn these tasks by osmosis. Rebuilding them, however, takes more than the vision of understanding where the parts line up. Seeing how it works and getting the monster built are two different tasks.

Each time I have an elaborate piece of furniture deconstructed, I jokingly ask the moving team if they will be coming to America with me to re-build the furniture. This usually gets a good laugh and some willing volunteers. This move, the German team scoffed at my suggestion, saying ‘Aw shucks, you don’t need us, the moving company will send someone who knows exactly how to do this. They will take good care of you.”
Ha.

It took careful research through my contract and old emails to remind S&K the services that I paid for. Once reminded, they were fabulous and contracted their agents in New Jersey who run a network of handymen and antiques dealers. Bill and Tom specialize in the German shrunk, an armoire similar to the French style, which can be totally knocked down for travel and is the basis of the IKEA concept. Because there are a number of military bases in this area, they have a business doing shrunks and all sorts of restorations, even china. Hmmmm, is it time to show them the Winblad?

There were three items that were demontee in France, so basically I was entitled to have them rebuilt in the US. The baby crib, I did not need and will wait for a grandchild before I bring out of the garage. But I wanted the berceau, a wrought iron cradle from the 1930’s. The bassinette did not have its screws attached, unusual as it is the custom with movers to carefully attach all parts and findings. Bill and Tom had to scramble thru my stuff and their truck, trying to find an acorn nut bolt that would do the trick.
No such luck, so they called HQ and actually got authorization to do the job right. They headed off to hardware store in search of the metric acorn and then returned to build the bassinette. They have spent three hours with me and shake hands goodbye like proper Frenchmen.
Lafayette, I am built.
When I am finally alone, I can drape the nets and tissues indiennes on the bassinette and fill the shelves with sweaters and towels.
Now I can sit back and try to figure out what I will be reimbursed for the missing mattress, the also-gone antique bamboo end table and all the broken dishes. At least I’m not dealing with British Petroleum…and I have pictures.

Moving Experience

2010-06-28T19:09:00.000-07:00

My furniture has arrived from France and I, for one, am very happy to see it. Except for the part I can't see, like the missing antique bamboo table (valuable) and the missing mattress that is part of my guest room set-- two boxsprings, but only one mattress. Mon dieu!

For the Consumer Gotcha report on what can go wrong (and right) on an international move, I will soon post the saga.

Dog Days of Summer

2010-06-28T19:04:00.000-07:00

Toffee, my five year old, loves ice cubes. Junior, my senior doxie, does not. So it is for Toffee that I tell you now about one of the most outrageous products I have found for this summer-- doggy popsicles!

Wormy Shoes

2010-06-28T19:01:00.000-07:00

Scene / seen at my local WalMart: it's the wormy shoes for cleaning, in green or in hot pink -- i wonder if the pink ones are left over from Breast Cancer Awareness Month? It's the Slipper Genie!

I'll Bring Dessert

2010-06-24T14:28:00.001-07:00

Some day, I vow, I will write a cookbook called 'I'll Bring Dessert' since that seems to be my specialty in the world of revolving dinner parties and hostess contributions. Until then, I will have to keep up my repetoire by coming up with interesting desserts to take along.

Tomorrow night I am going to a picnic in the park to listen to an outdoor concert and enjoy our dinner before bugs arrive. I'm bringing dessert, natch.

My first thought was to create something yummy from the chocolate angel food cake I found at the Safeway. I had never eaten -- or even seen-- a chocolate angel food cake, so I thought this could be the basis for something with fresh fruit and cream or custard or something gooey.

This morning, I watched Martha Stewart whip up a fresh caramel sauce and knew that would be my choice -- chocolate cake with custard and caramel sauce. I decided I better taste the cake before I moved forward with the individualized plastic containers I would need to prepare. Yuck! A very chemically chocolate taste. Not a serious yuck, but not a yum either.

I decided the ingredients in caramel sauce were too precious to risk them on an iffy project and began to look elsewhere for inspiration. That's when I realized that Sarah had brought enormous bags of fresh cherries from the farm stands in Gilroy and I still had enough for a calfoutis. That was the good news. The bad news was the realization that a clafoutis, as delish as it can be and as perfect a summer dish as ever existed, is not the right kind of thing to eat on a picnic, especially a picnic on the grass. Clafoutis is usually of pudding consistency and I felt that I wanted something in attractive, individual serving sizes.

That's when I remembered my stash of Shopping Detective finds.

I had recently purchased a few different packs of something called a Cupcake Creations TM mold -- described as 'elegant bakery quality baking cups' on the colorful package.

They are made in Sweden, which means you have a genuine Swedish dish on your hands!

The basic concept is that these wraps or cooking containers are a cross between the kind of paper we are used to baking with and the new resin molds, strong enough to stand on their own in the oven and in servings so that you do not need a muffin tin or separate pastry pan.

Part of the appeal is the wide range of shapes, sizes and colors available.

I bought some blue and white cupcake molds and some fluted white and gold tubs that would be right for a lemon square or a small eclair. You place the liners on a cookie sheet and bake. They do not affect the taste of your foods and they are made of natural paper, so you aren't cooking with odd chemicals.

You can toss the container after eating the pastry inside. Then you have to buy more. Both of my packs had 32 units in each; www.createcupcakes.com.

I have decided to make my clafoutis recipe with an extra dash of flour to make it a little more cake-y and to bake up a few dozen in these beautiful papers. They will be the perfect picnic accessory and a good excuse to go wild with the butter and brown sugar.

It's Not About the Hole: Bagel News

2010-06-24T13:05:00.000-07:00

Every person who has ever thought about the word DIET knows that a bagel and a smear are not particularly non-fattening, especially if the smear is more like a few tablespoons of Philly cream cheese.

Over the years, I've seen several smart souls cut out the middle, bready, part of their bagels in order to cut out some of the bulk and cut down on the calories. I have other friends who insist on reduced calorie cream cheese, for an extra edge.

Imagine my surprise when last week's trip to the supermarket revealed a new product called Bagel Thins by none other than Thomas', the same people we rely on for English muffins. And therein lies the rub-- although a line extension can be a brilliant idea, Thomas's is not the firm you'd expect to make a yummy bagel, let alone a yummy 110 calorie bagel.

Indeed, the extra skinny bagel comes in two parts, one of which is even thinner than the other. They taste somewhat like cardboard and aren't made that much better with a healthy (or non-healthy as the case may be) dollop of cream cheese.

There are assorted flavors available; I tested the 'everything' bagel; six in a bag, $4.49. There are coupons online for discounts.

Card Me

2010-06-24T10:54:00.001-07:00

I discovered this product in the heart of the California Wine Country...it combines the ingenuity of a doorknob hanger (such as DO NOT DISTURB) with a gift card for a wine bottle and therefore fits over the neck of the bottle.

Bottlenecks, a registered trade name, come with or without pre-printed messages. The one I bought says ' congratulations!' on the front and opens to the slogan 'may this bottle of wine add to your celebration'. You can choose from a variety of pre-printed messages or buy a blank tag to write your own.

www.bottleneckwinecards.com

If you have the time, energy and skills, you can probably make your own version of such a tag. This would work on the small scale for a few bottles, but in the long run, you'll go insane for the intricate cutting and clipping and will be happy to buy these cards by the dozen.

Skewed

2010-06-24T10:36:00.000-07:00

Not to date myself too terribly, but I remember when skewed was a verb only used in advertising and media trades referring to content and its age target for viewers. A skewer, had only to do with barbeque.

About two years ago, I discovered and wrote about some flavored wooden barbeque skewers that I found in stores and online. (Seasoned Skewers; www.mysecretpantry.com)

This summer, I have found the FireWire -- which costs a whopping $12.99 but is made of stainless steel and should last forever. ..or until you attempt to barbeque krypton. The product (www.firewiregrilling.com) is brilliant because it takes simple technology to the 'why-didn't-I'think-of-that?' position-- the wire is that...a long wire, much like a circular knitting needle, the kind used for sweaters.

Each end of this wire has a four inch stainless steel pointed poker skewer. Bascially, you thread your cubed foods onto the knitting needle and wrap it in circles on top of the grill -- you maximize the space and the heat from the grill and you clean the item, thus saving the world from disposables. This looks like what David Yurman would have designed if he was into barbequeing.

You can, of course, marinate foods before you grill 'em. You string the wire, then soak in marinade, then transfer to the grill. Dishwasher safe. Stainless steel doe snot react with marinade or raw foods. The packages set includes two skewers.

Shopping Detective Runs Wild

2010-06-24T10:13:00.000-07:00

I'm not sure if it's because my leg injury has me in bed and looking for work on the computer, or because I am researching crazy Japanese inventions for our Born to Shop Asia trip -- whatever the reason, I've suddenly realized that I have been stock-piling a small arsenal of great (read: weird) products, many of which are perfect for summer.

I will do each as a separate listing so I can input the fotos-- even though the format of this blog will reverse this explanatory paragraph to the end of the parade.

If you don't know I'm 'laid-up' due to a boo-boo, I will explain what happened and lead into how I could have prevented the problem with a new product. I am healing a broken metatarsal, pinched nerve and strained muscle all upset when i took a tumble on hardwood floors. I was wearing felt slippers, moved from carpet to floor and went kabam.

The most interesting thing about the fall is that one of my two doggies ran into the bed and hid under the covers; the other sat down alongside me and sat guard while I was down. So much for dog sociology. None of this would have happened if I had been wearing Slipper Genie, microfiber cleaning slippers.

I found a pair of these slippers in my local grocery store in the cleaning supplies department. (Could I make this up?) They cost $5.99, are labeled in three languages (English, French & Spanish) and come in one size, a range for women's size 6-9. I wont even go into the chauvinism of the fact that the product is specifically marked for women's feet.

The idea of the product is simple, while you're running around the house, you might as well be cleaning the floors with these hot green, wormy, microfiber treads on the soles of the slippers. It's silly...but brilliant. Oh yes, in the small print on the back it says 'exercise care'... maybe I couldnt have prevented my fall after all.

sales@evriholder.com; 800/975-0335

2010-06-11T17:29:00.000-07:00

Born to Shop Editorial Director Sarah Lahey took off for Israel and sent back this report:

Suze - I can't believe you tumbled and broke a toe! If you were here in Israel with me, a dip in the Dead Sea could make it all better. At least that's what I was told by the folks in charge at Mineral Beach.

They also claimed a mud and sea treatment could take ten years off my middle-aged face. Ha!

"Sign me up" I quipped, " I'll cancel my Botox appointment."

With a reputation for working medical miracles, the Dead Sea really isn't a sea at all; it's a big lake loaded with lotsa minerals including potassium, calcium, iron and salt; the salt content alone is more than 30%. It's rumored that the sea was a favorite of Cleopatra, who supposedly claimed it as her own personal health spa. I figured that if it worked for Cleo, who was I to refuse to soak my asp?

After paying 20 shekels, about US$5, to rent a locker (half of that was refunded when I returned the key) I made my way into the crowded changing room. The conversations I heard as I stripped and changed came from ladies who were seeking relief from psoriasis, arthritis, high blood pressure, respiratory and other chronic ailments.

Most of these gals were very, very old, and the communal locker room was very very small; it made Loehmann's look like a five-star spa. One lady warned me not to drink the sea water, as my blood and potassium levels would go berserk and I could go into shock and die within a few minutes. No problem, ma'am.

It was a quick walk down the path to the water. I threw my towel on a chair and slowly waded into the sea. The bottom was rough with sharp shells and rocks, so I immediately lifted my feet, stretched out, laid back and uh, floated. It was a strange feeling, sort of like being on an air mattress, only there was no mattress, just me and the sea!

Half the fun was checking out my fellow floaters. Some brought props for "Kodak moments'' while others appeared to be snoozing. One couple was stretched out on the water, hand in hand, smoking cigarettes; one man was snoring, I think. Unless he was one of the respiratory ailment surfer sufferers... It was quite a scene, and a sedate one. Splashing in the Dead Sea is considered bad behavior.

I'd been warned to stay in the water only 20 minutes, but after about five, I was ready to move on to the next ritual. It was time for mud.

I stood up, reached down, grabbed a handful of the rich black stuff, and slathered it on my arms, legs, face... basically any place not covered by my swimsuit.

Once out of the water, I baked in the sun until crusty, giving the black goo plenty of time to work its magic. As I sat there, I remembered soaking in a mud bath in Calistoga (California) and hating every minute of being buried in mud. This was much more fun! And much less expensive!

About fifteen minutes later, it was time to rinse. The mud dissolved easily in the salt water, but I hurried back to the dreaded locker room to secure a spot in line for a proper shower.

Was this goop and grunge worth the effort? Absolutely! I don't think it erased ten years from my face, but my skin felt great for several days afterward.

Hoping to maintain my healthy glow, I made a quick stop at the Ahava factory store, just across the road from Mineral Beach. Ahava is an Israeli cosmetics company that manufactures skin-care products made from the Dead Sea's mud and mineral-based compounds. It's an internationally known brand, well distributed in the U.S. and online, but a little less $$$ in Israel, especially at the factory store.

I loaded up on skin creams, bath salts and hair products, most of which were on sale. Hopefully, Suze, these gifts will ease your toe woes. Otherwise, you'll have to come here in person, Suze in the ooze.

Oh Dad Poor Dad Mom's Gone and the Dryer's Dead

2010-06-11T13:35:00.000-07:00

My new rental house did not come with a washer and dryer.

Since it does have a fridge, I decided this lack could be overcome and that I would be able to find an inexpensive pair with relative ease. I am a Shopping Goddess, right?

The most recent Craigslist Murder made me leery of trying that source, so I decided to price new equipment first, so I could make a smart decision. My girlfriend Jancey , who has lived in Paso for five years and whispers in my ear whenever I have need, sent me to Idler’s Outlet Store (9330 Camino Real, Atascadero, 805/466-6020).

Invariably, a small store is only as good as the help …and I got a dud. Let’s call him Steve. We’ll call all the salesmen I worked with Steve to be non-discriminatory; or Stephanie.

I explained to Steve at Idler’s Outlet Store what I wanted – low-cost pair; dinged or scratched was OK. He took me to a damaged goods side of the store and showed off a variety on non-matching pieces – each part of the set costing around $400 without tax, delivery or installation.

On my own browse, I found a brand new and matching set, branded Estate and made by Whirlpool, for $339 an item. Steve said he didn’t know I wanted an un-damaged set.

Next stop: Big Kmart (3980 El Camino Real, Atascadero; 805/466-7700) a whole new world! The Steve there could not have been more friendly, more helpful, more willing to help me and welcome me to town. He had the same new set for $339, delivery and installation would be an extra flat fee of $65, meaning that if I also wanted that freezer unit over yonder, there was no additional delivery charge. (The freezer looked mighty fine.)

Steve #2 gave me his phone; explained to me that if any one item cost $399 or more I could earn free delivery and suggested I call him as needed.

I called the next morning, because I was so pleased with this Steve and his attitude (and the freezer) that I decided a new set of machinery was a great idea. Steve was out and the store manager would not take a telephone order.

Rather than jump in the car and drive to Atascadero, I decided on more local research right here in Paso Robles, my new hometown. Three different sets of strangers told me to try Dutch Maytag (1501 Riverside, 805/239-4552; www.maytag.com). Their ad in Paso Robles Magazine had the same set I had been considering, but at lower prices. I called to order them on the phone, chatted with a very nice lady who explained that she needed to call me back. When she did not do so, I called her because she was so friendly. She explained that she had tried to call me but must have taken down my number wrong; she was ready with the total price including tax, delivery and installation and it was not pretty in my sight—almost $800. There was a $45 delivery fee on each of the two pieces, washer and dryer. We did not discuss freezers.

At Sears Hometown Store (944 Spring Street; 805/239-1255;ds3118@searshc.com), the Stephanie there was helpful, explaining that while her prices were the same as everyone else’s, if I could wait a week and get a Sears Card, I could buy the pair for $699 plus $65 for delivery and installation.

For a little comparison shopping, I looked at eBay and Craigslist. And that’s where I found it. If I did not get murdered along the way, Craigslist was functioning the very way it was created -- to form a community. The washer and dryer for sale were already second hand and the seller wanted what he paid for them, even though he had owned them for a year and a half (what has its full value after a year and a half?) BUT he was willing to deliver and install and throw in some of the hoses.

The plot got murky when we discovered that his dryer had a three prong plug and my house has a four prong outlet. An Internet search revealed that the code was changed ten years ago but that a re-wiring job was legal and parts could be found at any major home or appliance store. Lowe’s said yup, c’mon on down…and so I paid the $300 cash and waved adieu to the stranger with the beard and his Toyota pickup truck.

My son had come to visit with his laundry, so we needed the washer and dryer. Otherwise I might have waited until the end of June when I understand people in Paso put out old furniture, washers and dryers on their curb for disposal or neighborly sharing. Meanwhile, Aaron was motivated and capable and literally took apart the 'new' dryer and rebuilt it with the proper electrical outlets. It was Frankenstein's Monster and we couldn't have been prouder.

The dryer was used about six times in the last three weeks. Now it's dead. Aaron has tried to bring it back from the dead but says he thinks it's the motor. I must now decide if I will call a repairman or simply buy a brand new machine, as I probably should have in the very beginning.

Of course, it's only two weeks now until the Paso Robles Disposal Day, so maybe I can trawl around looking for someone else's castoff. On the other hand, if its true that you get what you pay for, the Craigslist seller got the deal and I got what we all know can happen to us in these situations.

Next time, I buy new.

Auction Fever

2010-06-05T18:23:00.000-07:00

Due to circumstances beyond my control (crippling fall, lotsa pain) I did not get to the rodeo or the beach or even the grocery store today. Nonetheless, a friend drove me to Santa Margarita, which is not a pizza (as I had assumed) but a funky little California town south of Paso Robles.

We went to the viewing at the Santa Margarita Auction Barn; tomorrow is the auction. The barn is just that-- a barn, with several additions that are accessed through a small ramp or step (this great fun with a cane). The collection seemed to come from two specific estates: one with cowboys and Indians (the American Native kind) and one with more Victoriana than Queen Victoria and all nine of her children ever accumulated in her sixty year reign.

A few pieces could have passed for Burgundian, but there was nothing in fruitwood, which most of my French furniture is created from. The majority of the pieces were so old-fashioned I could only remember back to the late sixties when I thought a roll-top desk was a classic. Aside from the stuffed full sized black bear outside, there were sofas in pony skin, curio cabinets galore and my personal favorite, a Gentleman's Shaving Stand. I actually left an absentee ballot on this item, even though a Gentleman does not come included.

The stand has four bow legs that funnel into a central column, then reaches up to a height of four foot something where there is a square cabinet with shelves for shaving items, as well as a hidden drawer for jewelry. The stand continues upward another six- ten inches to balance a round mirror. The stand is walnut and would be the most perfect accessory for my guest room, which at this time only features an air mattress and two magazines.

There is no published catalogue or estimate at the SMAB, so a salesman made the rounds with me and mentioned some possible prices for a few of the items I was interested in. He said the Gentleman's Stand would go for $250-400. I low-balled it with a bid of $150 and left my chit. Tomorrow they will call me...or not.

Tokyo Mon Amour

2010-06-01T13:48:00.001-07:00

We've just put together the basics of our next Born to Shop Asia trip, so wrap up in your favorite kimono and c'mon down. As usual, the trip is co-ordinated by InterContinental Hotels...although there is no InterConti in Kyoto, so you'll just have to trust me that you will not be sleeping in the shrines in Kyoto and that Sarah and I have found a totally suitable Japanese, luxury, 5-star hotel.

Like all Born to Shop tours, this one includes breakfast in the club lounge and a Shop & Show lecture (with the usual giveaways) daily. The first night of the tour is November 4, so you will have to leave the US either November 2 or 3 depending on flight times and date line crossings. You may also want to go in a little early, just to get over jetlag.

DATES IN A NUTSHELL:
November 4-11 (7 nights) Japan, 2010
November 11-14 (3 nights) Hong Kong, 2010

Having jetlag wont be a problem since we'll all get up at dawn on our first day to go to the famous fish market and auctions and then have sushi for breakfast in the stalls alongside the market. During the first three days in Tokyo we will roll pearls til your wrists grow weak, have a kimono wrapping lesson, go to the paper and wrapping district, visit a temple sale, shop at the shrines and still take in Harajuku and Ginza.

Meals will be casual-- whether at the Muji Cafe or at a yakatori stand under the main railroad tracks. And speaking of trains, how else would we get to Kyoto but on the famed bullet train?

Roundtrip tickets are included in the tour price; we spend three nights in Kyoto before returning to Tokyo for our final night at the InterConti Akasaka. You will be able to leave the bulk of your luggage in Tokyo and travel more lightly to Kyoto. Our farewell shopping spree will be at the Akasaka Shrine.

If you want to continue shopping after seven nights in Japan, you can add on a three night Hong Kong package at, of course, the Hong Kong InterContinental Hotel (formerly The Regent Hotel).

The tour does not include airfare to Asia, or travel between Japan and Hong Kong, but includes seven nights deluxe hotel with lounge amenities, breakfast, internet, Shop & Show lecture and r/t bullet train to Kyoto. Airport transfers are not included.

The per person price for the Japan portion of the trip is $2800 (USD). For single occupancy, the price is $4300 USD. The three night add-on to HKG, with harbour view room and lounge amenities, is $1500 per person or $2500 single occupancy.

The tour group is limited to 12 guests. A deposit of $250 is required by September of this year (2010)...if you want to use your credit card, you may pay by Pay Pal. Contact Sarah at srlahey@gmail.com. The balance of the payment will be due on October 1,2010.

Sayanora for now, my cherry blossoms.

I Am a Fat Cat

2010-06-01T13:22:00.001-07:00

I always wanted to write a book named Fat Cat. I got the idea about a million years ago when Larry Gelbart told me that sometimes he felt like a fat cat sitting in the sun. Alas, Larry has now gone to the great catnip in the sky but over the weekend, I was able to visit Fat Cat Farm in Paso Robles, California.

Fat Cat Farm is part of what, for lack of a better word, I must call a total destination. You head west on Highway 46 west (from Highway 101 and Paso Robles) and look for the big red mail box on the right hand side of the road, right near the new and totally swank vineyard Niner Wine Estates.

By all means, go to Niner (try the sangiovese rosata), but turn left at the red mailbox and park at a jungle of garden and farm houses that represents the newly opened wineries and gardens and nurseries that have replaced the old Sycamore Gardens, which burned down a few years ago.

Anyone who plants hollyhocks and dill next to each other has to be an interesting person, so it's a pleasure to wander behind the tasting rooms to the rows of nursery tables laid out with herbs and flowers. It feels neverlandish here (not in the Micahel Jackson sense) with an ethereal piece of Provence, Tuscany and the California countryside. There are four or five different kinds of lavendar, as well as gift items and garden tools. Classes and a petting zoo for kids are going to begin by fall. Next year you will be able to buy myriad tomato plants in spring (tomato planting season is just about over here). And yes, numeorus cats roam the property so you can sit and pet...or just purr.

THe vineyard tasting room is Lone Madrone,2485 Highway 46 West (805-238-0845; www.lonemadrone.com) which is the private label owned by the winemaker who aslo blends for Tablas Creek, one of the most highly rated wines in the area, if you look at point systems. The tasting room (open daily, 10:30AM- 5PM)is a cozy bungalow that sells crafts, foodstuffs, apple cider and wine, fine rhone reds are the specialty.

To round out the experience, there's a small tasting room devoted to Kenneth Volk's wines. Volk is one of the pioneer vinters of the area with a property in Santa Maris, south of Paso Robles. Just don't drink and drive.

Apple of My Eye

2010-05-24T14:05:00.000-07:00

The house I have rented has a wall of roses up against the back fence. They are gorgeous, but not dense, with perhaps a meter or more between each bush. This space cried out to me and sang 'tomatoes'.

You say tomato; I say tomatoe...right...

Although I brought radish seeds from France, I did not bring tomato. So i went on the hunt for the red tomato. Or the red baron. Or something.

I knew I wanted heirloom varieties and I knew I wnated a selection that would offer pretty colors in the salad-- beyond that, I was clueless.

My friend Jancey took me Nature's Touch in Templeton, about ten miles south of Paso Robles, exclaiming that this was the place for locally grown and certified organic fruits and veg. Located on the main drag (good old Main Street --#225 South Main Street, to be exact; www.ntnah.com) this modern nursery sells plucked veggies and greens indoors ,but devotes the front yard to tables laden with seedlings and sapplings. There must have been three dozen different kinds of tomato plants.
In the end, I chose mostly according to name. This is also how I pick a race horse, although some of the names sound like a drug deal gone sixties:
* Ozark Pink
* Annas Noire
* Beauty Queen
* Yellow Mortgage Litter
* Cherokee Chocolate
* Big Rainbow
* Cosmonaut Volkov
I once did an article about Frida's Finest, and Frida Kaplan -- an exotics broker who brought kiwi and other unusual fruits and veggies into the US-- many years ago when I worked for People Magazine. Through this interview I learned that the term 'chocolate' in fruit is merely a dark brownish, purple color -- so I knew the chocolate tomato I chose was not for Willy Wonka.
I have seen Beauty Queen sold at other nurseries, so it must be popular-- or bought by a lot of vain women who relate to the nomenclature. Other than that, the only other tomato name I know is 'Bifsteak', which I did not buy. I do wonder if the Cosmonaut Tomato is shaped like a rocket ship or if the Ozark Pink is really pink...but we'll jsut have to wait 75 days to find out.
Indeed, the gestation period on most of these plants is 75-85 days, which means that come August, when I usually go to Asia for three weeks, I will have to hire someone to serve as Tomato Monitor to tend my garden-- making this a very expensive bushel of tomatoes.

Strawberries & Chocolate

2010-05-19T13:42:00.001-07:00

It's not that I have moved to Stepford, but my girlfriends here have shared their strawberry dipping recipe and technique with me.

Here in the Salad Bowl of California, it is strawberry season and there is much talk of Big John, known for his, uh, berries (and their size) at the Templeton market on Saturdays and the Paso Robles farmeer's market on Tuesdays (3-6pm).

With freshly grown and harvested strawberries in hand, I was sent to the supermarket to buy a tub of Dolci Frutta-- a chocolate dipping sauce in microwave container, about $3 (SACO Foods, Middleton, WI; 800/373-7226; www.dolcifrutta.com). One woman did whisper there was a trick to it all but the others just laughed and said it was so easy it was almost a joke.

Ha ha on me. I'm the one who has been using a bain marie and imported chocolate and going to the moon in my efforts to make chocolate dipped strawberries. The ones I tested were perfection, so I was out to follow in my new friends' micro-steps.

THe 4-part directions are printed outside the container. I followed them, although after 1.5 minutes I was almost there and considered quitting. BUT the directions said two minutes, checking every 30 seconds. At the next interval, I had brown cow patties. Uh-oh. Was this the tricky part?

Seems that I was to turn the microwave down to medium and I over-zapped. Still, the sauce was great; Big John's berries were great and I have 0% cholesterol but 9 grams of fat to add to my intake list.

Do not refrigerate.

The Hairy Details

2010-05-18T16:44:00.000-07:00

Now I'm very certain that all consumers out there want to know what happened with the TV set and if we all lived happily ever after.

So there's yes and there's maybe.

Although I was told that the set would be delivered last Friday and re-delivered on the Monday afterwards, I arrived at the house on Saturday to find the TV set, in its giant box, propped up in my otherwise empty house. This means someone's been sleeping in my bed. It possibly also means that UPS just dropped off the set and left it standing there. Blue moon, you left me standing alone on the porch.

Anyway, today was installation day. So my son Aaron and I had to un-pack the set and assemble it before the cable guy would touch it. And that's when we discovered that one end of the box was bashed in, one end of the foam was shattered and yup, the corner of the otherwise perfect frame to my TV is missing some bits of plastic or is that resin? We found the bits and tomorrow I will find some glue. Plastics, Benjamin.

I am certain I could call amazon.com or J&R or UPS or someone out there and return the set for an undamaged one...but how long would that take? And being the imperfect sort anyway, I am at peace with a less than perfect TV.

But so much for this kind of shopping. I will never buy a major appliance online again. But then, I've jsut bought a washer and dryer combo off of Craigslist, so if you never hear from me again...you know what happened.

Amazon is A Jungle Out There

2010-05-12T10:04:00.000-07:00

Who cares if I was BORN TO SHOP or not...when it comes to getting some basics delivered here before I move to Paso or sent straight to my new house in Paso Robles, I have learned a lot about ordering from Amazon.

I won't whine, but here's what you need to do so it doesn't happen to you: When you get a message like 'buy this in the next 4 hours for delivery on such and such a date' they are sorta kidding. When you go for it, they ask for your zip code and then inform that delivery is not available then in that particular zip code. Since this is all done digitally, you have to hunt around for a half hour to find a phone number to speak to a real person. Whatever a real person is.

I reached a very nice gentlemen in, uh, Mumbai maybe.

Does someone have to sign for it when it comes?
I don't know.
If no one is home, will they leave it or come back later?
I don't know.

We are talking about a very large TV set here, it's not like you can leave it in the mail box.

Seems that Amazon is just the middleman and takes a cut of the action, but provides no information to shoppers or customer service whatsoever. Their promises may be charming, but unrealistic.

I've just had to pay an extra $96.99 in expeditated delivery fees to get within a delivery range that even works for me. But here's the good news -- my TV set is coming from J&R in NYC, a firm I not only trust, but one with excellent customer services skills.

They wrote me back immediately on email to help me through the delivery info, but they gave me Amazon's direct phone number, which is virtually impossible to get online, even from Amazon. Voila: 800-201-7575.

They stated my shipping date was 14 May and the expediated mail was second day delivery, so I would get the package on the 17th-- this worth the extra $100 to me.

Uh oh, THEN they wrote back (we are BFF by now) and the TV set has been shipped -- so now I'm back in the duck soup, trying to straighten this out. And it's all because
a) a large TV set wont fit into anyone's car, so I can't pick it up;
b) Amazon told me I could have delivery on a certain date but fibbed on that, but I arranged cable installation based on their faulty promise;
and c) I couldnt live without TV for any longer than three or four days, especially now that we approach the final episodes of most serial television.

Soooooo I called J&R (800/426-6027) and spoke to Frederico who explained that indeed, the TV will be delivered on Friday to Paso Robles by UPS. If no one is there to sign for the TV, UPS will make a second stab at delivery on Monday!

At last, information we can all use.

Three Outlets & A Baby

2010-05-07T11:47:00.000-07:00

Actually this story is about more than three outlets. And there is no baby. But baby, can you have fun if you follow in my footsteps...or simply sign up online to get the info for the next EO Warehouse Sale in San Rafael, California.

Sarah Lahey (Editorial Director of Born to Shop) and I made a renegade run to Paso Robles in order to see the house I rented online with just a quick glimpse at four photos. (It's adorable!) While the drive is just shy of four hours; we took a few more hours and did it our way-- with some outlets on the going and the coming home.

First stop was the Gilroy Factory Outlets -- there are seemingly millions of these, spread over a series of city blocks and addressed with letters of the alphabet so you know where you are. This is one of the four Premium Outlets malls in the California Wine Country...and I think, it's their best.

We had time only for one section -- so we went to Saks Off Fifth, J.Crew, Hugo Boss and whatever was in that portion of the strip. At Saks, we were asked to provide our email addresses in order to recieve a onetime 30% discount on one item. Most merchandise was already marked down 40-65% off the lowest ticketed price. I got carried away and bought a cobalt blue, tiered ruffled Calvin Klein, knit and spandex frock that I didn't try on (big mistake) and a few other items for my new life in hot-weather Paso Robles. I had a mental vision of myself being invited to numerous vineyard events and floating around like a hot-blue cloud. Ha.

Most of my hot-weather clothes are in storage...so I am re-booting the wardrobe.

I popped into Hugo Boss to look for a sports jacket for my son (42L), but they began at $449, which was not my idea of a bargain.

On our return to the Bay Area the next day, we stopped in Gilroy again -- this time for the garlic stores. We tried Garlic World, a giant storefront that was most impressive. We bought orange/honey almosts and garlic/ jalapeno pistachios (which when we began to eat we discovered were stale!).

Eventually, we left Highway 280 near San Jose and went onto 880 (we were going north, but this works in either direction) and took the Marina Blvd. exit to get to Marina Square, an oddball outlet and off-price strip.

Here's the Eileen Fisher outlet, where they were selling Spring 2009 at marked down prices and were preparing for one of their 'blowout sample sales'...these feature clothes in a size S, which is of no interest to Sarah or me. I spent a fortune on my summer stock and then moved across the parking lot to Marshall's. This was one of the best Marshall's I have ever visited-- possibly because it's almost Mother's Day or possibly because being near other outlets puts the pressure on them.

I only bought two sleeveless tops, but I was drooling over all the Carole Little merchandise, especially some really cute 60's style, retro cardigans with big bold bright floral prints -- a little bit Lilly in style and perfect for summer air conditioning. I did Carole Little's People Magazine story about 30 years ago and she is still going strong -- now with exclusive designs for Marshall's.

We finished up the day at the EO Warehouse Sale in San Rafael, a mile or two up the highway (or down the highway, it's all perspective) from Sarah's home. Held twice a year in the shipping bay of the EO Warehouse, this sale is mostly to those who get the flyer or the notification (sign up on their web site). EO makes natural bath and body products in a distinctive coblat blue plastic container. I bought bags of bath salts ($2 or $7 depending on size) as well as half a dozen pimp bottles of liquid soap ($3 each) in cinnamon spice, which I must imagine is being discontinued. I would have loaded up on holiday gifts, but I just couldnt get that organized.

Shopping at CDG

2010-05-07T11:45:00.000-07:00

All of Gaul may be divided into three parts, but the shopping at CDG's newish Terminal E has a lot more parts to it. And a lot more fun than any threesome.

Terminal E may be ten years old -- I lose track of these things, but since I moved to Paris ten years ago and remember it opening..and closing after a portion of the ceiling fell in...then I think of it as 'new'. CDG is not one of my favorite airports and I have horrible memories of actually crying when lost in one of its pods, but nonetheless, my flight out of Paris was fun once I got past the luggage requirements and code-share mix-ups and into the shopping zone.

Aside from being a light and pleasant-to-be-in space, Terminal E has the usual suspects you would expect in any airport shop, along with duty free stores...but there are also several unique shopping ops: a gourmet grocery store and a French style department store devoted to gifts and small items, many of them for home and table top.

I was amazed to find a Jean Vier boutique within the boutique. Jean Vier is a Basque linen company that makes a stylish twist on the traditional striped fabrics from the region. Usually just in natural linen with red or green stripes, Jean Vier's linens have a rainbow worth of brights. There are no bargains, but the look is stunning and not easily duplicated in the U.S. -- or Paris, for that matter.

Weighing In

2010-04-30T07:47:00.000-07:00

So there I was, at the Delta Airlines counter in the nicest of CDG's international terminals, E, and trying desperately to get back to the US. Because I had excess baggage, I had called ahead to get the skinny.

The I got to the counter with my four tiny suitcases and was told that I should pay 655 euros in excess. Whaaaat???

I tried to remain clam and spoke the magic word 'supervisor' through gritted teeth.

I explained to the suprviser that I had numerous small pieces because I had been responsible for housing two Volcano Refuges and the car did not have space for large pice of luggage. I explained that I had called ahead. I explained (and whinned) in English and in French.

In the end, it turned out that when I was ticketed, there were different luggage rules in place and that the airline was forced to honor those; that I was right. The supervisor was less than friendly but was efficient. The man behind the counter who had given me the very high quote, was rude and steaming fury (and volcanic ash).

The moral of the story:
* Don't believe what 'they' tell you, especially if you've investigated and had a conflicting report. There are a lot of bullies out there and airlines are out for every dime they can get from you. Possibly, there's a pirze to the counter agent who rings up the highest fee extras;
* Ask for a supervisor;
* Whenever possible, try to pay in USD rather than euros. Had i known I would have this problem, I could have bought the $50 vouchers in the US and saved some money...and aggravation.
* Fight back. Not only did I call for the supervisotr, and my fiddler's three, but i demanded a tape measure when Mr. Charm tried to tell me that my carry-on bag was too large and needed to be checked as yet another piece of luggage (for big bucks). I won.

Airline fees for checked baggage and for carry-on, or the rules regarding carry-on, are in a flux. It seems that the counter agents' job is to scare you into paying as much as possible. If they win the battle, they win...but for heaven's sake, give them a fight.

Fabric Markets in Paris

2010-04-27T07:14:00.000-07:00

In this city of haute couture, you can find designer fabrics by the meter in many posh stores in well-healed districts about town. But if you want a bargain, or just something edgy, you should go to the fabric markets.

The main fabric market, which occupies a hill right below Sacre Coeur, is called the MarcheSt. Pierre and it consists of many buildings on several streets and side streets. However, the really interesting fabric market is in the part of town called Little Africa, just north of Marche St. Pierre (walking distance).

For some really 'we're not in Kansas anymore' moments, take the metro to Chateau-Rouge, on the #4 line, just one stop past Barbes -- which can be used for the Marche St. Pierre (I happen to use Anvers, but it depends on what metro line you are using.)

People are very shy about being photographed or stared at, so don't oogle the women in their national dress, but do get a look at those made in Holland, Dutch wax prints that are famous from Senegal to Kenya. Exit the metro and turn right on the main street, following the rue Poulet (yes, chicken street) to several shops. Most are open by 10:30AM; several open at 9:30AM.

As per tradition, fabric is sold in five metre lengths. Never cut shorter, even if you beg. Costs are fixed for the length not multipled by five. The least expensive cottons are 15 euros (about $20 for five meters/yards) while the ones shot with gold wax can be $100 for the five meters.

The stores in this area have diverse names such as Little Haiti (who let them in?), African Queen, Beaute Afrique, Waxworks, etc. There are also myriad specialty groceries promising exoitque groceries; many beauty parlors and stores selling only wigs and hair extensions and a few street vendors selling knock-off DVDs and designer handbags.

While I wouldn't go here in the dead of night, it is perfectly safe in the day and is quite near the chic residential areas of Montmartre. Although I paid mostly cash, stores did take plastic.

If you are more traditional or want a wider range of possibilities, you want the district on the south side of the hill that leads up to Sacre Coeur. Exit the metro as described above (Anvers or Barbes) and head up the hill. My route is always exit Anvers and take the rue du Steinkerque, which has many jobbers and fabric stores. When the street dead-ends at the merry-go-round, turn right and shop more, ending up in a giant five story budiling called Dreyfus (not related to Jerome) and marked Marche St. Pierre.

Between the carrousel and the Dreyfus building, there are more stores and places offering 'coupons' (remnants) on one side of the street and there is the garrishly painted Halle Saint Pierre on the other-- this houses a museum, clean bathrooms and a great place for a guiche and salad lunch for about 10 euros per person. While not everything is dirt cheap and you do have to figure in the cost of changing money and the dollar/euro ratio, i bought three meters of linen for 23 euros in a remnant store and paid 10 euros for some home decor fabrics. Tassels for cushions were ten euro-cents each.

This is not the kind of adventure for a non-shopping person and there is some stamina required. Also note that on Monday, several of the stores (the most famous is named Reine) do not open until 2pm.

The Melange Makes The Day

2010-04-24T10:53:00.000-07:00

I don't know if I would define this as one perfect day in Paris, but the mixture of styles does represent my personality and friends and the springtime in the air here.

Started off at the Flea Market at the Porte de Vanves where I was very restained, bought three thrilling items and only spent ten euros. OK, one of them is a fishing basket for a friend and I will have to hand carry it on the plane, but she's a good friend ...and how successful can a trip be if you aren't lugging home some silly purchase?

Had lunch at The Ritz; my first time back in about ten years -- after I got turned away for not being a guest there when I went in for a hot chocolate on a wintry Saturday. Then took a taxi straight up the Champs Elysees to Monoprix, where I did the grocery shopping and bought a few new products to test, such as Nivea's new tinted foundation (seems to only come in one color -- sable (sand) -- but hey, that's my color) and Eugene brand hair color and uh oh, those nasty roots are out again and the Sally's color combo and 20% developer got shipped to Paso Robles.

Now I am about to meet my kids for a glamourous Parisian dinner on the Champs...they have asked to go to McDo!

Easter Bunny Freak Out

2010-04-22T11:58:00.000-07:00

Somehow or another all the furniture got on the truck, all the neighbors shed some tears with me and we got on the road to Paris and, hopefully, our eventual return to California. Since this portion of my trip was arranged before I knew there would be three of us or that volcanoes would make us all so nuts, i booked into Dijon -- about halfway between Provence and Paris for tonight.

Yes, it could have been done in one go, but why push it when you can overnight in Dijon?

I have been coming here once a year for about ten years; i always stay at La Cloche Hotel, which is now Sofitel La Cloche. It's always been the grande dame hotel of town and is walking distance to everything, including Grey-Poupon which is now run by Maille although there really were a Monsieur Grey and his business partner Monsieur Poupon.

The hotel was shockingly nice when i explained that there were three of us now -- we got a junior suite with a sofabed and a view overlooking the park and the main shopping street. Do they know how to treat a Shopping Goddess or what?

Years ago the hotel was sorta shabby chic and rustic, now the outside is still a Haussmanien palace but the inside is very moderne and re-done Sofitel, complete with a big stash of L'Occitane bathroom amenities. Ceilings are high, there's French doors that open right onto the town.

All the local shopping you could want is right down the street-- starting with Maille and its enormous collection of flavored mustards, oils, olive spreads and even dish towels and totes. For those who are curious, Maille products are sold elsewhere in town, but the prices in the mother store are the best, as is the selection.

Aside from the seemingly three dozen different flavors and combos of mustards, there were three freshly made, in-house mustards from the pump (pompe) -- you buy a ceramic jar and they fill it for you, you can come back for a re-fill. The three fresh that day flavors were chablis (strong), white wine (so strong it made my nose run) and chocolate. This is not a joke! Nor is it a dessert. The idea for chocolate mustard came from the shop's suggestion box; it is an Easter special, limited edition creation and is tangy and amazingly good.

Despite the weight of the ceramic jars, i just had to buy a few as gifts.

Then I had to make my way one block over to the rue Musette, which is a pedestrian only tourist alley with two of my favorite TT's in the world, both sell flavored mustards and other gourmet food items. We had whittled down the baggage to account for the fact that there are three of us in the car, but now we need a new suitcase just for the mustard.

On the Rhone Again

2010-04-22T01:29:00.000-07:00

Tons of stuff to report from volcanic adventures ;;; my kids are refuges of the storm and now with me enroute to Dijon...to packing of house, final trip to the neighborhood potter atelier; moving on, saying goodbye to neighbors and now the drive to Dijon. Tune in soon to learn all about Col. Mustard. With pix, bien sur. Im en retard with reporting because its been insane here. Stay tuned and forgive delays. Film at 11.

Suzy the Lyon Hearted

2010-04-18T00:40:00.000-07:00

It is only one hour and a few minutes by train between Lyon and Geneva, so before and after my kids (my son Aaron and his wife Jenny) arrived, I checked into the Sofitel Bellecour for some eating and shopping and, uh, Born to Shop research. Ah Lyon, the second largest city in France, the heart of good eating and the gateway to Provence.

I come here often, but as well as I know it, I manage to make new discoveries. This trip was no different. Listen my children and you shall hear, of the yummy French dining by Suzy dear. And that cute little shop with fabrics that could have been designed by Lisa Corti.

From Geneva In Double Time

2010-04-18T00:36:00.000-07:00

OK, I'm not the one stranded in Geneva and moving into an airport hotel and wondering when the volcanic ash will lift. That's my kids. I'm the one who planned and executed a fabulous weekend at the gorgeous InterContinental Geneva and took my son shopping for a watch for his 30th birthday.

more on all of it soon.

In Case of Natural Disaster

2010-04-16T23:28:00.000-07:00

So here we are in beautiful almost - downtown, outrageously expensive Geneva on plan. It's just that, uh, not much else is on plan. We are in the midst of aninternaitonal weather disaster.

Thankfully I did not know the news about the volcanic/nuclear cloud of dust, so I blithely drove here as planned. My biggest fear as we loaded the car was that the road over the Alps would be scary.

Ha.

After our gorgeous Alpine picnic, when my kids took time at the play ground, we got back in the car with my son driving the perfectly lovely Alpine highway, I went into a sudden and very nasty allergic reaction. Odd, I thought, but not unusual. Still, what could have triggered such a sudden and harsh reaction? I clutched my Epi pen as I swallowed Benadryl.

After checking into our gorgeous suite at the InterContinental Geneva, and settling back to unpack, set-up computer and study map of town, I received a phone call from Sarah Lahey, Editorial Director of Born to Shop, announcing that because of the disaster she had to cancel her trip to Istanbul and Paris.

Huh?

We knew nothing. Even BBC was not reporting much. As she explained it all, I suddenly realized why I was wheezing.

The hotel concierge confirmed that the Geneva Airport was still open. The phone number listed for united Airlines in the phone book was for freight. There were no reports online that gave any serious information.

In short order we went through some immediate actions that I pass on now, as there were/ are some tricks to be remembered if/when this happens to you.

* Don't waste your time trying to call the airline.
* Don't waste the concierge's time thinking he can do better than you.
* Go directly to the airport with a pleasant frame of mind and courtesy written all over you. Stand in line and make friends. We watched a romance bloom. The TV news says not to go to the airport -- we found the opposite worked for us. Maybe because the Geneva airport is small, but it wasn't a long line and we were helped efficiently.
* Know your carrier's affiliations. For United Airlines, we had to go to the Lufthansa desk. If we hadn't been told that, we could have been hysterical looking for a non-existant United desk.
* Have some creative ideas in mind for solving the problem, but don't go crazy.
* Don't start trying to out-smart the computer. I was hoping to re-book my kis through Frankfurt to LA, through CDG because there are more options for US connections, etc. In the end, a smaller airport with only one flight has fewer passengers to worry about.
* Remember Peter Greenberg, the Travel Detective from CBS News and his facebook and twitter pages. I sent him a note and he explained about the tail numbers on planes, so that I can determine if the plane has departed the U.S. so that we can know if we will even have a craft when the time comes.

The kids were given boarding passes for Tuesday, which is a miracle. I suggested we all shake hands withe agent as would be polite in the European manners department. The agent doesn't want to shake hands with anyone. Too many germs (or was that Germans?) We all nodded like doodle dolls with heads on springs.

We were lucky in that we had driven and had a car and were not at the mercy of taxi fees. We were alsolucky that we had chosen a hotel very close to the airport. We were also lucky that we had a computer, could go online and find another hotel for the added on delays, as this hotel is over the top in design and luxury ...and price.

We will check out as planned on Sunday and the kids will move to a Ramada (Ramada Park Geneva, $170 a night) near the airport with a free shuttle to the airort and a free bus pass for getting into town -- we booked it on kayak.com and then went over there in person to make friends and check it out. It seems well chosen...and it's on the #10 tram line which leads to the airport, to town and to a nearby mall with fabulous grocery store, Migros. In a disaster and a city as expensive as Geneva, we all need to know where there's a good grocery store.

For ocmparison, the InterConti -- which is the most chic hotel in Geneva--starts at $450 a night for the least expensive room. It is gorgeous here, and we are in a suite with a Lake Leman view, but it's not possible to stay any longer than planned. This was a working trip, meant to last two nights, not four. But Tony Chi is a design genius and if you want some place really chic to be stranded -- this is the hotel for you. The breakfast buffet is amazing and we're anticipating the famed Sunday Brunch.

Yes, it's a three day delay and the financial losses involved for my kids -- who will miss work without pay --are staggering. The price of a small pizza in Geneva is $25. It will not be a honeymoon in Paradise. But, as the old saying goes -- when rape is inevitable, lie back and enjoy it.

Now we're off to work, I will be writing a Postcard to Peter (petergreenberg.com) all about Geneva, the amazing things the hotel did when they discovered it was my birthday (from my passport), all about the Tony chi designs and our meal at Woods, her eint he hotel -- foie gras stuffed ravioli.

Blogged Down

2010-04-15T03:23:00.000-07:00

I promise to catch up, write more interesting reports, attach video from the new little flip camera, and add a picture to this page ...ASAP. Instead, i will tell a little story to explain why I haven't done any of the above yet.

My house closed on Monday, April 12. The bank here is closed on Mondays.
On Tuesday, although the bank was open, their computers were down.
On Wednesday, when they saw the heap of euros now in my account, they called me to come in with legal documents 'justifying' the sum to ascertain that I am not a drug lord.
Today, Thursday, they said they couldnt wire that sum from France without a written and faxed confirmation from my US bank and a character reference from that bank.

And you ask if I will miss France, if I am sad to leave, if my heart is breaking...

Outlets On the Route

2010-04-07T09:30:00.000-07:00

I have been to the outlet mall village of Marques Avenue many times. Perhaps a dozen. But I have always arrived from the north, while driving from Paris or Lyon and heading down the A7 toward my home in the northern Vaucluse.

So here's the deal. The exit number when you are driving south is #13, but when you are driving north, the highway said to exit at #15...so I did. To tell you I was lost and almost in Grenoble is not an exageration. I was following signs for ROMANS, and suddenly there were none. I decided to backtrack, took an off-ramp and then hit a round about, but then fell upon the N49 highway, pointing toward Romans and the shoe-making capital of France. Phew; I eventually got there.

I would have to look at a map or a crystal ball to understand exactly where Romans in located, although on all my trips I have arrived via one route and left on another. So today, I got there in reverse. Either way, it's a bit of a schlep once you leave the highway, so be patient. It's very much worth it.

With prices as high as they are in France (who cares if the dollar is stronger, things are still crazy expensive), it was a treat to finally find my way across the river Isere and into town. Although I was at Marques Avenue just a year ago, there were many new stores and even a new layout to enjoy. Construction was banging on about me, with more stores coming.

I'd tell you which ones if I knew ...or if anyone there would talk. The place seems to be very hush-hush, like 'don't mention the war'. I was threatened by a security guard when I took a photo of the logo sign (above) and no vendors would let me take pictures (or notes)inside their stores. Maybe this is a CIA front. I guess you'll have to come to France in person to see the new colors at Le Creuset. (Turquoise.)

Marques Avenue is not the best outlet mall in France (the one at Marne Le Vallee outside of Paris is the best here), but it's come a long way in a few years and is seemingly getting more yummy each year. I parked in front of the Lindt outlet. Yes, I am going to Switzerland next week -- but why wait when there's an outlet in front of you?

All of the Easter products were obviously on sale, but when I chose a giant sized box og Lindor bonbons, 25% was deducted at the cash register. Now if I can get 25% deducted from my hips, we'll be in business.

It's some sort of promotion time at the outlet mall, so most stores had sales with 30-50% off their everyday low prices. I was so dumbfounded by prices at bedlinen maker Anne Solene, that I begged to be excused for asking dumb questions (I played the 'estranger' card) but was the marked price 50% off or was it again another 50% off?!!

And so my pre-birthday party began at Anne Solene-- I got to deduct another 50%, making duvet covers cost from 25-40 euros, which is damn good in France. I even bought a set of duvet cover plus two pillow cases (another 16 euros, svp) for Sarah for her birthday in June. Everybody celebrates today!

I could maybe do better on these items price-wise in the U.S., but not style cum price-- not any where. And the linens are made in Lille, not China. (I've been to the factory.)

There are numerous home style shops at Marques Avenue; most were too expensive for me even with an outlet price tag on their goods. There are several children's boutiques; no interest for me. I avoided the clothing stores, although for editorial purposes only went into Venti Stock, the Ventilo outlet and Nitya, my favorite French brand, which is sort of a floating, Indian, ethnic look great for people who eat too much chocolate.

There's also Spanish outlets, such as Mango and then the sports brands and several cookwares store -- besides the polite but firm people at Le Creuset.

The bathrooms are clean; there are two sandwich shops; the parking is free. Despite grey skies and scattered showers, it was a beautiful day in France.

Easter Monday Specials

2010-04-05T03:03:00.000-07:00

Today is Easter Monday, which is a big holiday in France. They don't seem to do Good Friday, but there's no school today and things are pretty dead. I can't wait for tomorrow which is market day in my village as well as my manicure day and, ouch, my meeting regarding my taxes due on the selling of my house. But tomorrow is another day.

Yesterday, Easter Sunday, was cold and wet so I spent most of the day upstairs in my house at the computer. I don't like to heat the upstairs and the downstairs at the same time (I am, after all, French) so I decided to stay in the cocoon and write with brief trips to the kitchen.

By this morning, I was so desperate to get outdoors that I drove to Ste. Cecile des Vignes, about 20km away which has been advertising a brocante, or flea market special event for Easter Weekend. In real life, I go to this town every Saturday for market and have been to their flea markets many times...but I needed to get out and knew I would enjoy the ride across the vines, past Rasteau and to Ste. Cecile. It's a cold and windy day, but the sun is bright and the sky is clear. You can see the lime atop Mt. Ventoux and even snow on the far off Alps.

The flea market was a piddling little affair, with few vendors and fewer shoppers. Worse yet, msot of these vendors were on the circuit, so I had already seen them (and their wares) in Vaison and in Beaumes de Venise. The same old white high-chair for sixty euros is still bouncing around the hills. I priced a vase (60E) which was nuts and a bistro table, also 60E-- which I probably could have bought for 50E but then it's one more thing to ship. At a certain point, even a shopping goddess has to say 'Basta! enough!'

April Fish & Dream Cottages

2010-04-01T10:40:00.000-07:00

Today is April 1rst (i think) which may be April Fools to most, but its Poisson d'Avril here...although today has not been very fishy. In medieval time, a red paper fish was attached to someone's clock at tush level and everyone else could snicker...as only you could snicker in medieval times. The prank became the basis for the April Fools joke, but here most people just eat chocolate fish.

Not me. I spent the day looking at shops for Born to Shop and then touring my friend Dominique's house, which she has really spruced up since the last time I saw it and which I have now convinced her should be offered up for rent a few weeks each season (dosprano@gmail.com).

She lives in Le Cannet, an official city of its own located above Cannes,above the traffic of Cannes and closer to the A8 autoroute for getting around the towns and villages. It is a sorta teeny house that is everyone's dream. A giant terrace, a large open, modern kitchen, big living salon and smallish bedroom -- who wants more?

Her home is on one level, below is her separate office and then there's a large studio apartment, where her son lives. She bought a truly ramshackle little house and has spent many years making it into a gem. If you've ever dreamed of a little cottage in Cannes, this is the one. Andnow she will rent it out to a lucky few.

The house is bright white (just painted) with olive green shutters and tons of flowering plants along the gates, driveway and terrace. There's a dozen lemons on her lemon tree. Her cat sits in the sun. The house is filled with light and then brightened even more with yellow walls and white furniture. I will load in my fotos as soon as I can get the Internet to co-operate.

The house has a huge terrace, so we sat outside in the perfect Cote d'Azur sunshine and ate poulet roti and potatoes. Well, I ate the potatoes and she had endive. She's staying on her diet; I am eating everything in sight.

It was one of thosemagic moments when you don't even have to talk -- you just enjoy a friend of almost 20 years' time, the sun, the mustard and the fact that life can be very good. Especially in Cannes.

Cannes Do Glam

2010-03-31T08:00:00.000-07:00

I have arrived in Cannes to work on Born to Shop Provence Plus (which includes Provence, the French Riviera, Barcelona, Geneva and maybe Morocco) and get an advance peek at what's new and what's been happening since I was here last year, during the Festival International du Film ...called FIF here.

So far, the two knock-outs have both been hotels -- one of which I just visited by way of the lobby. (Keep reading, I'll tell you everything.)

The other, Hotel Palais Stephanie, is where I am staying -- the newest luxury hotel in Cannes (50 La Croisette; www.palaisstephanie.com) and one of the biggest renovation stories in France after sixty million dollars was poured into a older and very eighties OTT hotel (the Noga Hilton) and made into this new, luxury palace with a 5-star rating and a special homage to the stars of past Film Festivals. It's the only modern, glam, hot and trendy palace in town; promising to set the Hollywood crowd on their tiaras in mid-May.

Located directly on La Croisette, overlooking the sea, the Palais Stephanie's rooms are uphosltered in cognac Italian leather with zillions of sleek options and technological details. Regular rooms have coppery mosaic tiles and tubs ...while my room, a suite (hey, it's out of season -- I got upgraded) has a Philippe Starck tub set into an alcove overlooking the sea... and more sparkly copper shimmery tiles.

Each bathroom has a separate glass wall Italian shower (read-- no door!) as well as a dual flush toilet, to save water. The hotel has also chosen to give up bidets in order to save water, so only the important and very grand suites have them (my suite is sans-bidet).

I am left to wash my underwear in the sink. Oh yes, I wash my underwear with the most chic bathroom amenities I have ever seen-- provided by the Swiss jewelry/ watch company Chopard, which is obviously going after the Bulgari bathroom business.I have never before seen Chopard hotel amenities, so I am one of the happy few who can bathe with azure blue glycerin soap.

The lobby has a giant atrium, filled with a golden Palme d'Or leaf branch, a larger than life version of the award given away here at FIF. There's also a restaurant with terrace, La Scena, that serves a mixture of Italian, French and Japanese food -- again, overlooking the sea...and all the street action. Does anyone need more than a view to the sea, a blue sky and a pizza?

You can get a full lunch or dinner at a fixed price of 25 euros, which is very low for Cannes and for all of France. I went for the 3-course lunch (30 euros) and had a crab-avocado salad, grilled fish over truffled risotto and a grand marnier souffle. Ohlala! Then I walked around town before falling into my bed.

Behind all beds, and in most public spaces, there are vintage black & white photos of stars at previous Film Festivals. I am in residence with Gina Lollabridgida. Brigette Bardot is just down the hall from me.

Yet there's more to oogle in Cannes.

Around the corner from this hotel, there's the new 3-14 Hotel, 5 rue Francois Einesy. It's set back one block from the sea, but is a must-do stare at me hotel because of the drama of the tiny lobby. It is small and very unusual, so this is not your basic Hollywood glam spot; www.3-14hotel.com. I couldn't stop giggling as I stared at the lobby.

The hotel has purple carpet out front (who needs red, even in Cannes?) and inside has two contemporary art sculptures, one of a life sized turquoise cow with a gnome on top; the other, a turquoise Venetian glass fountain with glass birds and a gnome on top. You will be looking for Amelie toutes des suites. The rest of the lobby is upholstered in turquoise plush. You will never see the likes of this kind of kitsch in your life.

From the brochure, the rooms look quite normal. No Brigette Bardot anywhere. So please stop by the lobby before you return to the surreal world of the rest of Cannes.

Any Fleas Today, Lady?

2010-03-29T10:18:00.000-07:00

It's hard to find a shopper, or much of any traveller to France, who doesn't like flea markets.

But here I am to say, whooooaaaaa -- there's better bargains to be had in France. I have become spoiled by vide greniers and Emmahus. To me, many flea markets, especially The Big Flea in Paris, are too touristy and too expensive.

It's Springtime now in the South of France, and so the season begins. There are, of course, indoor events during winter...and many Paris flea markets continue their cycle throughout the year. But here, in the South, the vide greniers have just begun. Ww have mimosa. We have forsythia. We have lift-off.

Vide grenier (empty attic) is a tag sale. But individual tag sales are not allowed in France. Instead, the village has a one-day one-off event, usually just once a year, and every person in the village can buy a space for 10 euros (or less) and get rid of 'junk'. One man's junk is my treasure, you know.

Actually, most of my homes have resembled flea markets when I was finished 'decorating' them ...and my fondness for the U.S. chain of stores Anthropologie is based on their ability to re-create my own home within their stores. Beyond my urge to own everything I see, there are deeper social implications.

At the three vide grenier I went to this weekend, I noticed an inordinate number of plastic water bottle/statues from Lourdes. I suddenly realized that the vide grenier is the last step in the cycle of life. Get sick. Go to Lourdes. Die anyway. Family dumps stuff at vide grenier. And the world turns.

The best things to buy are baby items, as they are never worn out. I am not buying much of anything now, because I am about to move house and leave France, but I look nonetheless. Hey, you never know.

I admit to being mesmerized by the small selection of naked plastic doll-babies available at one family stand. Two of the three dolls had penises. I know it's been a long time since I've seen a doll, but I didn't know that anatomically correct dolls were so easy to come by that they are selling for a few euros each in the outskirts of Roaix.

More importantly, I made yet another discovery (aside from the Big Picture and the Small Penis) -- vide greniers are enormously less expensive than flea markets... but Emmahus is less again by as much as half the price.

Emmahus is the French equivalent of Goodwill. It was begun by Pere Pierre, who took in homeless men, housed them, fed them and put them to work either repairing or selling donations. The donation sorters are now so sophisitcated that they use eBay and the Internet to price each item.

Still, feve sized santons (for the galette du roi at Epiphany) at a vide grenier cost one euros for five. And no Baby Jesus. At Emmahus, they were ten for one euro. (Still no Jesus.) A wooden high-chair, maybe from the early sixties, was 20 euros at Emmahus, 40 euros at one vide grenier and 60 euros at another. Go figure.

The Emmahus that I have been using for many years is near Orange, about 20 minutes from my house. There are branches all over France, even in Paris. I've checked out a few in Paris, but they were not good, and I've never seen another rural branch-store.

"My Emmahus" is a small village. It takes a village to make a bargain. It has one bulding filled with books (in English and in French), casettes (10 for one euro), disques (vinyl) and graphic novels. There's another building for electronic equipement; another for kids' items, another for womenswear, two for furniture (large, gorgeous amoire, 1000 euros) and my favorite of all, Vintage and Bibleot --which are two different rooms in the same trailer.

'Vintage' is all old linens, vintage clothes, hats, fur coats, buttons and trim. 'Bibleot' is dishes and object d'art, including a complete African Section.

My best buy this past weekend came from the outdoor tables, where the true junk is piled higher and deeper (everything, including kitchen sink) -- here I found something unique for my mid-sized collection of nains (gnomes) -- a plastic gnome who requires batteries so he can sing. Now that's an important work of art.

Seasons & Epochs

2010-03-26T03:19:00.000-07:00

My mother died in the season of the forsythia. She died on March 8, of course I remember the date. And I know that forsythia has a different bloom period in different climates. In Texas, it blooms in early March.

I date many times in my life by the season rather than the physical date. I remember my shock as a child when my grandmother told me that she did not know her birthday. She was born on the first crescent moon after Passover. When she was sent to the U.S. as a six year old, they made her birthday March 31. Yet now, I remember her birthday by Pesach -- next week, not a specific date.

My gradnfather died ont he first light of Channukah. I do not know that date.

I mention the time of the forsythia because when I arrived here in Provence, I wanted to fill my window boxes with bright pink and orange geraniums as I do each year. But there are few geraniums available now; it is not quite the season. Instead, there's forsythia...and various root stock.

Needless, to say, I bought a forsythia plant and put it in the window, in a carved yellow, very deep ceramic tub from China. I usually have a blue wheelbarrow in the front window for my plants, but it is too large for a lone plant.

I placed the little tree into the jar and forgot about it, except to reflect on my mother each time I pass my front door. She is dead 29 years this March.

Today I watered the plant and noted with amazement that it is growing -- it has root coils and new green buds and shoots coming out of the dirt. I do not have a green thumb, so I am shocked that anything would grow.

But it is the growing season in France. At market, there are tables piled with root stock, so you can start your own vineyard from a few little plants. It is illegal to bring these into the U.S. or I would add to the 150 vineyards in Paso Robles with my own Suzienne.

A Poulet in Every Pot

2010-03-25T05:47:00.000-07:00

A few years ago, while on a visit to Paris, I complained to a French girlfriend that the poulet roti at the bio-marche in the 6e (Sundays only) cost an otrageous 20 euros ,,,for a singlechicken. I further remarked that I was paying between 12-15E at grocery stores and 9E at the secret gas station store at the Shell in the 7e.

She explained that things are now so expensive in France that her family can no longer afford to buy a poulet roti; that they make their own.

It had never crossed my mind to make my own roast chicken. They cost $6 or $7 in the US and are usually great straight from the supermarket, especially when still warm.

She gave me the recipe she likes and I began to experiment, first in the US and now back home in France, where the Auchan in Lyon (Dardilly to be exact) had ready cooked chickens for 7,90, about $12.

My friend's chicken is stuffed with tilleul leaves, which I can only find in France since nearby Nyons is the tilleul capital of France. I had brought some paks back to the US and filled the first chicken with wet leaves and a lemon cut in half; quite tasty.

Now back in France, I am testing a vareity of types of chicken as well as cooking methods. You can buy two normal chickies, smallish, on promo for 7E the pair. A bird with a pedigree will cost 8-10 E per.

Chicken No. 1 was stuffed with a double package of smoked lardon, a pat of real French better (alors) and glazed with olive oil (fruitee) and lemon juice. Cooked for one hour at 200C -- the leg joints were pink inside, merde. The bacon bits were sensational mixed with the chicken in its juice.

Today was Chicken No 2. Cooked inside a clay pot with potatoes for one hour and then without the lid for another half hour until golden. Stuffed this sucker with the rest of the laurier leaves I found in my cupboard (I soaked them first) and a fistful of garlic gloves. Topped the bird with a specialty salt flavored with wild mushrooms.

This made a very good lunch and will probably be finished off as dinner. There is only one problem.

It's good thing I am alone here at the Internet Cafe ... and will be home alone tonight.

One Perfect Market Day

2010-03-23T08:57:00.000-07:00

I found myself too tense to sleep last night. I reviewed the possible problems and realized, no, I wasn't upset about anything except maybe giving up my house and my almost-adopted dog. I was excited because when I work up today (Tuesday) it would be Market Day in Vaison.

Market in VAison, especially in season, is a glorious thing. Today it was semi-glorious -- not in full throe since it is still March. But with perfect spring weather and streets crammed with locals and vendors, I made a few seasonal discoveries.
* The first French strawberries of the season have come to market. Spanish strawberries always become vailable more quickly and the French are quick to disdain them. These strawberries did not look too appetizing -- a weak red color with very white tops. I'd give it a month.
* Asperges is also jsut coming into season. The height of this season is actually in April, but there were several varieties available today -- msot were expensive since this is the first of the year. The French tradiiton is to make a wish each time you eat a fruit or vegetable for the first time in the new season. So I found some of the skinny asperges for 4 euros a boite and will make my wish tonight. Fatter asparagus and white asparagus were about $10 a bunch. Thankfully I don't like those versions.
* My regular 'chickan man' charges 7,50 for a poulet roti. This is a few cents less than at Aucahn. It does not pay to cook a chicken at home.
* Pirate and bootleg CD's are as popular as ever, but there is gaining momentum in 'disques' -- vinyl, which can't be faked in that format. Beatles album for 10 euros.
* Geraniums are not yet abundant. There are a few, but mostly it's still primroses and pansies.
* Dishtowels with embroidered symbols of Provence (lavender, cigalle, etc.) cost 15 euros for six. Down the road a bit, they are five towels for 15 euros. Did I spot a bargain right out of the box? Naw. The second guy had much better quality. Sometimes you do get what you pay for. Nevertheless, I am not going back to the vendor who announced 'Singer d'occasion'. I've done that and been there.

A Coupe Above

2010-03-23T08:34:00.000-07:00

Like any woman who has ever had a crippling affair of the heart, I have just been to the hairdresser as a way of coping with my loss. After giving up Caramel, I have been blue -- so now I am red...or auburn. And looking like a middle aged Audrey Tatou.

Meanwhile, if you prefered the old shaggy/curly moi, be sure to tune in to HGTV on Thursday at 9pm EST and 8pm Central to watch a new show called Selling New York. The show debuted last week and garnered two different articles in the New York Times.

While you watch the property porn, you can discover how I came to be in Vaison now, awaiting the sale of my house here. My dear friend and broker extraordinaire Michele Peck toldme I should move to New York and give Manhattan a whirl. I flew there last fall to look at apartments -- and was trailed by Michele's camera crew. It seems it was her week to be the star of this new real estate saga, and so we gamely wore the same clothes for several days in a row and pretended we didn't even know there was a crew on our tails. We saw three apartments -- all are worthy of more than a New York minute or million -- but I fell so crazy in love with one of them that one the spot, and yes, on camera, I decided to sell the house in Provence.

So there you have it.

The Village Idiot

2010-03-22T08:51:00.000-07:00

So here I am at the Universe Cafe on a damp and gray Monday which has speeded up slightly now that it is late afternoon. Because this village is open on Sunday mornings, it's very dead here Monday mornings.

Dead was, in fact, the question of the day. I had to ask the vet to assure and then re-assure me that dogs are not euthanized in France. I brought BonBon home for home-care; changed her name to Caramel (Cara for short -- 'dear' in Spanish) and cared for her non-stop. The vet taught me how to give her the injections, so I practiced with the pain medicine first and then the antibiotics. Hey, I know what's important.

With three useless legs, she was a patehtic case. I put her in the baby crib in my room; snuggled her into two blankets I bought at Emmahus, found some dog toys and then did laundry again and again as she did dog business in her bed or through the spoke of the crib. Poor thing, it was heartbreaking. And rather amazing.

So was my emotional breakdown.

I suddenly felt like Juno but without the courage; a 16 year old who turns up pregnant and wants to keep the baby but knows she can't care for her.

With sobs, I gave Caramel to the vet today so they can transfer her to Isle sur Sorgue SPA. I did not save her life for them to kill her, but I have been told they won't do that. Of course I wanted to bring her back to America and care for her forever, but I know that's not the right thing for either of us.

I was told that she's young and cute and will be adopted as soon as she recovers. She needs a really nice family and farm ... and French ticks.

I have two lap dogs (aged 5 and 10) and a new life that is evolving. She's a young and crazy gal, born to run. Once her legs work. Her problems have overwhelmed me, so I have rendered back to Cesar what was Cesar's. Did you know that Cesar is a French dogfood?

Since I left the vet's,I have spent much of the day in a trance. Not France. Trance. I pray she gets a nice family. I feel her finla licks on my face. The sick-doggy smell of the house makes me yearn for her.

When I ventured outside a few minutes ago, I bumped into an acquantince of mine -- a guy who lives in a small studio down the street from me. I think he has Downs. I have been friends with him for years; we are four kiss friends, although I do not know his name. Have not known his name for the ten years I know him.

Nonetheless, when I told him I had sold the house and was cleaning and packing, he told me to please call him if I needed him to lend a hand.

I have been so taken with the kindness of my village people -- who either know me simply as Suzy or La Dame Americaine--that I feel like the village idiot for having sold this house. Alors.

2010-03-19T10:03:00.000-07:00

They say you have to live with a man before you really know him. You have to live with a language before you relaly speak it. So today's verbs are:
* renverser
*ecraser
*percuter
They are all rather common 'er' verbs. I just never knew them because I didn't need to.
renverse: fell down, collapse where you were standing
percute: hit from the front and knocked over
ecrase: smashed flat
I have learned these words because at 11am today I left my house in Vaison for the market in Carpentras, it being a Friday and all that. It was late for market, what with the 50 minute drive, but I figured traffic owuld have thinned out and I would find parking. I was craving orange-lavender confiture that you can only buy at that market.
As I approached the town wall, I remembered a truc that my old boyfriend Jacques had taught me, a way to get around the one way system in town and cut back and behind. Then I got to a rond point and took the wrong spoke. I knew this rather early on, but there was no place to turn until I found a tiny street, just wide enough for a U-turn.
There in the ditch, alongside this back town road, with travaux in progress, I saw a shaggy dog. So this is a shaggy dog story.
To cut to the chase, as we say:
* I could not leave her to die;
* Although she had no collar, most French dogs have chips, as required by law -- at the least, they have a tatou. I thought her family could be easily found;
* she was a she
* she was the right size to fit into my late dog Sam's kennel, which happens to be in Paris in my friend Dinny's cave. Not that I was thinking of taking her to America or anything.
I named her Bonbon in honor of the berlingot which is made in Carpentras and the fact that it was a good day for both of us that I could save her life. It would have been my faather's 92nd birthday today. I drove her back to Vaison to my trusted vet. I cooed to her in English and French.
The vet then informed me of the laws regarding such things. The vet was not allowed to do anything. I was not allowed to pay for the ver to do do anything. The dog was the responsibility of the mayor of Carpentras. I must wait ten days to hear if she is claimed. That should be around Easter and we will see if she is risen or not. She cannot stand up, so the rising part will be difficult.
She has one broken leg, no internal injuries (they allowed Xray) and open wounds on two other legs. She should be fine.
Part of me hopes she has a fmaily that has registered her missing and will be happy to find her alive. The other part of me wonders how much Air France charges for a one-way dog ticket to San Franciso and what Toffee and Junior Mint will think of a little Bonbon.

Beaune to Shop

2010-03-17T11:16:00.000-07:00

I wept when I first saw the vines.
Now then, it's possible I wept because I'd flown for ten hours to get from SFO to CDG, retrieved a rental car from Terminal 2 after arriving at Terminal E, managed the peripherique and then sped breezily along the A6 at 140kph until I got off at Beaune Centre, in the heart of Burgundy. Maybe anyone would have wept...from sheer exhaustion.
But the vines have always touched my soul. The day has been hazy but spring-like. The fields are yellowy green and the vines are still dormant. Once you've taken the ticket to enter the A6, the drive south is a breeze. Here and there the soil was tilled a warm red brown; not deep and dark like in California. Off to my left over a crest I'd see a castle or a chateau or a medieval village, little changed to date.
I did not make a hotel reservation before arriving, not knowing exactly where I would want to spend the night. Alas, this is a country of traditions and so I stuck with mine -- when driving south, overnight at the Hotel de la Poste in Beaune. When driving north, overnight at the Hotel de le Cloche in Dijon. I could have booked this hotel in advance for 130euros but I thought that was over-priced and sheesh, on a Wednesday night in the middle of March, I could just waltz in and pay 100 euros.
Ha. One room left. 160 euros please. Merde.
I was too tired (and too weepy) to go elsewhere. Besides, I had already done an online search on prices at the other two hotels I like in Beaune (Cypre and Cep -- these are two different places) and both were higher than the de la Poste.
So my room is very sweet -- small but intime with gorgeous furniture and a deep bath tub. There is an ecologically proper soap dispenser on the wall of the tub/douche. This may be green and may in fact save the earth, but there are few amenities in the bathroom and none to 'steal'. It's also very hard to squeeze and wash at the same time.
I took a fast shower as soon as I arrived. After all that travel I was feeling more French than is ever proper. There was no shower cap in the bathroom but when I stepped under the hand-held I remembered:
A) it's hand held, you can avoid getting your hair wet rather simply ... and
B) even when attached to its post, the pommeau du douche is still way too low to ever get my hair wet. French people are much shorter than I am.
Town is as charming as ever, although there are a lot of empty storefronts; Recession has obviously come to even the cute towns of France. Real estate prices don't seem to be too affected. Cute little cottages, far cuter than my house in Provence, begin around 300,000 euros -- almsot twice the price of my house. I guess this is the zip code to own in.
Certainly it's the place to drink. The wine shops do not seem to be hurting from Recession and the town center is crawling with tourists (mostly British) buying up burgundies. Me? I'm just brushing up on my French. I have to have mis-translated when I saw the sign for a vineyard that appeared to be named Patricide (see above).This wine from Solvang, California -- OK, that's clever. But here? I must be very tired.

Flashdance From Air France

2010-03-17T10:04:00.000-07:00

There is no photo with this post because even I, sometimes called brazen, know that it is rude to take pictures of your fellow flighties, especially when they are sleeping.
Nonetheless, I thought it important to tell you about the man sitting across the aisle from me, in, uh, 30C, to be exact. We never spoke. I know he is French because I heard his accent when he spoke to the flight attendant and no Anglo has an accent that good, not even Alec Lobrano.
Besides, this isn't about who he is or what he had to say. It's about the look; his look -- which I think is the look for tomorrow or maybe today, if I am totally behind the times. Men's fashion doesn't interest me that much; but street fashion fascinates me. Voila!
He was in his mid-30's I'd say, blonde-ish with cropped short hair buzz cut, like the cute guy on NCIS LA. Now here's the important, part: his outfit.
* Good quality pink cotton dress shirt with French cuffs. Cuffs not encumbered with cuff links and therefore dangling, loosely, from sleeves.
* Sleeves were part of the zip front, gray pull, with an unfortunate Tommy Hilfiger logo on it. I'll allow that as I congratulate Mr. Hilfiger on his sale. Gray zippy thing is not zipped all the way up, thus revealing some of pink shirt at neck. But not much because...
* White linen gauze scarf double knotted at neck, sort of Lawrence of Arabia gone to Gap.
The rest was as anticipated, jeans and orange and beige stripe Kappa trainers.
God, I love France.

The View From Here

2010-03-15T09:51:00.000-07:00

I'm sure its not odd to you, or to be considered much of a personal confession, if I admit that in fits of boredom or depression, I go to the drug store for an emotional pick me up, and a new lipstick or something.

I used to go to the Long's Drugs near Sarah's house; this branch in Mill Valley. Then it got taken over by CVS and while I still go there, I miss my old Long's Drugs and don't take as much joy in a plain old CVS. Even if they do carry Lierac skin cream from France. Usually, I leave unimpressed.

Until yesterday. I went to a different CVS while waiting for Papa Murphy's to whip together our pizzas. At the far end of the CVS in Greenbrae, there was an open door marked 360 Degrees. OK, I thought -- I'll bite. After all, pizza was in the air.

As it turns out, this is a new company co-ordianted with CVS to represent the inner Sephora in all of us. There are currently 16 storefronts dotted around the US with more coming. The brands are chosen for their name status and their quirks ... and/or cult status.

There's a small fragrance bar with unusual scents. I spritzed Fleur du Rocaille, one of my old favorites (this is the perfume from The Scent of a Woman), but I could neither find the price nor the stock. Since I'm going to be in a duty free tomorrow, I decided to move on.

There was a small amount of hair care and much makeup and skin care. Brands included Paula Dorf and Mario Badescu. I touched and sampled everything; refused the offer for a free makeover or an official appointment for a facial with their expert and instead wandered back to the mass market brands in the other part of CVS. There I decided to test the Mabelline gel-format eyeliner and a new lipstick. They're in the middle of a buy one, get the second for half price promotion. Who could ask for anything more?

Film at 11.

A Toast

2010-03-08T08:45:00.001-08:00

Well guys, I am filled with excuses for not writing-- they are lame. Like I have been trying to get Born to Shop California Wine Country finished so I can get on a plane and fly to France and close up my house which has been sold. Then my computer died. Then the dog pee'd on my homework. You get the drift. Lazy. Not organized. But I'm baaaaack and will be doing regular reporting from France after March 18, 2010.

But first, that toast I promised. Jill Parsons Stern, who was the first editor of the Born to Shop series back when it was created (1984) and sold to Bantam Books has been taken (so to speak) -- Sarah and I have won her over to the red side (we all drink red, not white) and Jill will be editing the next four Born to Shop books. Born to Shop California Wine Country should be available on amazon.com by mid June.

Jill came to Tiburon to go over the pages and help us get organized; we felt that she needed at least a day in the vines to really 'see' the book. (Think Avatar; I see you.) That made us compose one perfect day in the vines.

We didn't want to do too much schlepping around, so we drove up Route 121, looked at The BlueTree at Cornerstone Galleries, then turned onto Highway 12 until we got to Domaine Carneros, the Taittinger owned chateau on a hill that now presides over a park filled with cherry blossoms. At 11am there weren't too many people and we could enjoy the view and the bubbly. By noon it was jammed and we ran out of there screaming, "we're not with the tourists."

I drank a coupe of Le Reve, the premium pour and it was indeed dreamy-- and far superior to what the other girls tested. Jill had an OK-enough pink sparkling but Sarah's blanc de noir was very disappointing. The winery offers a 3-glass tasting of these varietlas ($15) so you can see for yourself. I'd suggest you just go with the dream.

Still sober, we sped off to Taylor's Refresher in St. Helena. The Napa branch at Oxbow would have been closer, but we wanted Jill to get the whole experience, or asmuch as you can get in a drive-by. We stoof in line at Taylors (as is almost always the case) then dined inside a clear plastic heated tent that has jsut been erected for the spring crowds. I had my usual rare burger with garlic fries; Sarah had her usual loaded cheeseburger with sweet potato fries and Jill went for fish tacos, which she claimed were excellent.

The original Taylor's Refresher, on the edge of downtown St. Helena, is not much more than a stand or 60's style diner-- it's famous for gourmet burgers and easy eats. They also serve local wines. They are located on Highway 29 -- the main drag through all the Napa Valley communities-- and are in fact almost directly across the street from the new eatery Farmstead, which is busy, a little bit pricey and the place to be seen these days. I thought that Taittinger and Taylor's was the right combo.

We prowled downtown a little, marveled that soap at the Napa Sopa Company costs $8.95 a bar before taxes, then drove south toward home. Our final stop enroute was Fruit Basket, one of those giant farmstands that sells a little of everything. We were in the wrong lane of the highway to get to Marie Calendar in time to grab dessert (big sale on razzleberry pies) and I was hoping that Farm Basket sold fresh made pies from a nearby ranch, but alas -- nope. I got some fusili instead. But not for dessert.

We got home, dove into the pages and totally re-organized the front of the book, wine glasses in hand. Not to break the Napa spirit, but to go with the intent of book editing, we poured Candor, a $10 a bottle wine from Paso Robles, L'Chaim.

Here's Looking at You, Kids

2010-01-15T07:07:00.000-08:00

My day began so glamorously that I started to chronicle it with photos--which I will soon add to this blog. First there was my trip to the post office, then my trip to Monoprix, my coffee with my old friend Walter, the tarte tatin that I ate with the cream, the trip to the pharmacie to pick up my prescriptions. It never ends. But since it's all being done in Paris, it seems more exotic than the usual real-life errands.

My hostess, Karen Fawcett (of bonjourparis.com fame) walked me to the taxi stand at 6:30 last night-- she was off to a literary soire for a mutual friend who has done a translation of Simone Beauvior. I was headed to see a girlfriend's mother and then to dinner in the 16th, and I dont mean just off Etoile.

The dinner venue was chosen by Alexander Lobrano whom you probably know from his Hungry For Paris books (with web site and blog)-- I silently griped about the bizarre location, across from Radio France, until I got to this modern bistro overlooking the Seine, the Eiffel Tower AND the original Statue of Liberty. (L'Ogre, 1 ave. Versailles,16 e)

What a dinner we had-- this was a young, hip crowd enjoying wine and meat; Alec and I shared a giant veal chop for two. Portions are enormous (rare in France) and we had started with lunch size portions of appetizers. I ended up asking that all my leftovers be packed up for my Eurostar trip to London tomorrow.

Naturally the carte in every restaurant I have visited reflects the seasons and the traditional winter meals of France. I had a lamb parmentier one night and then noticed a beef stew parmentier at L'Ogre. This is so easy to do and makes such a nice presentation that I plan to try it at home. Simply place the stew on the bottom of an oven proof dish, cover it with whipped up mashed potatoes and then bake.

For lunch today, I continued with the fruits of the season and had two fried eggs (sunnyside up) over broccolini on a bed of melted cheese and topped with grated truffles.

My hostess is cooking up a storm for dinner tonight so I was asked to produce a suitable dessert from one of Paris' reknown bakeries so that other guests at the table could ooohhh and aaahhhh and feel at peace with the notion that dinners in Paris are always like this. To keep with the seasonal theme of my recent meals, I chose a galette du roi -- the king's cake-- complete with feve inside. Instead of the traditional frangipani cake, this one is chocolate,caramel and lemon cream, You re-heat in the oven to melt the chocolate a bit and voila, party on a plate for three people at only $42.

Snow in Paris; Ham & Cheese

2010-01-13T08:09:00.000-08:00

Well, there's good news and wet news from Paris-- we woke up to a fair amount of snow which was pretty and sloppy and then melted away. The day has been milder and even gave in to a few streaks of blue sky. Since rain was predicted; snow -- even slushy snow-- was a welcome relief.

As for my glam life, well-- it was off to Dr. Nancy Salzman at her newish digs 1 avenue Lowendahl where I got a report on excellent blood pressure (see, it's a jet set lifestyle) and then went to the bank and stood in the wrong line for a half hour. C'est normal for Paris.

We went to Fauchon for a ham sandwich and bubbly H2O --that for two people at a mere 24 euros (!!!). The sandwich was wrapped in a golden edged zip baggy of baquette size, which was so cool that it was worth 6,50 E for a sanwhich. I've saved the baggy as a souvenir of Paris.

We went up the hill to Marche St. Pierre to the fabric markets where everything is on sale at somewhat reasonable prices. Then I remembered all the other 'coupons' I have packed away in my storage unit and decided not to buy. I was also upset by the hated political discussion with the taxi driver-- who proclaimed his anti-Israeli and anti-semitic politics with stories so bizarre I'd never even heard them before, ie. no Jews were killed in 9/11 because they knew about it because they read Arabic and it was all in the papers en avance.

It took me a while to wander the bolts of fabrics and calm down after that little lecture.

The real trend in fabrics is the African wax print cotton, which is the hit of the couture and pret season for spring and is sold by the meter at Dreyfus for 2,90. I convinced Sarah that we should make a melange of pillow cases and marry them to a French Provencale boutis for her bedroom and be colorful in winter and on top of the trend. We gathered up a handful of bolts and then realized we would never make those pillow cases, gave in to honesty and returned them to their place in the heap.

So now it's off to the American Library for my gig. I shall be speaking about nonfiction (fact) and memoir (truth) and the fact that fiction is much like memoir in that it must reflect universal truth. Then during the Q&A we can discuss the difference between honesty and truth. We French are so philosophical.

Bonne Annee from Paris with Fur

2010-01-12T08:20:00.000-08:00

Sarah and I have arrived in Paris, delighted to find that it's not nearly as cold as the television news lead us to believe and that despite the complaints of French friends, the world has not frozen on its axis.

It is cold, but not cold enough to wear the undershirt I bought at Marshall's. There are more fur coats in the streets than I have ever seen before-- it's just like a chilly Rosh Ha Shannah at Temple Emmanuel and almost as furry as winter in Milan. The gear is somewhat Russian in style-- Natasha of the Steppes in dark mink, with those ear flappy mink hats, heavy boots and big, fat sunglasses. Perhaps everyone has emptied the closet at the ski chalet and bundled up to face the cold...and the wind. The students, sans fur, are sporting necks wrapped in loops of fabric from chin to chest. It's all very chic.

The days are gray, but there's no rain...and Christmas decorations are still up, so there's a festive air amid the signs for various SOLDES. Along most of the 6e, the streets are strung with garlands of blue violet neon Chinese lanterns with tails of silver glitter. Few stores have spring merchandise; most stores have bins filled with mark-downs.

Prices, even on sale, seem very high. The taxi minimum has gone from five euros to six; last summer's t-shirts at Monoprix are at 70% discount, nine euros, which once you do the math isn't all that cheap. Even fleur du sel is up to almsot four euros, one euro more than last year. (Still, it's $11-12 in the U.S.)

With the state of our jetlag and the weather, we buy dinner at Bon Marche and warm in in the micro-onde. Last night it was beouf stew; tonight it's lamb stew. It's stewy weather. We had breakfast for lunch at Laduree and were admonished for ordering mango macarrons. It's not the season! You msut have fig and date.

And tomorrow perhaps we'll wake up before 10AM.

Bringing Home the Bubbly

2009-12-06T09:21:00.000-08:00

As we draw to the end of another year and a new decade (how did that happen?), many of us are searching for the right kind of sparkling wines with which to ring in a new and hopefully better year.

As every fashionista who ever heard of Yves Saint Laurent knows, Champagne is a wine growing district in France-- not a perfume and certainly not a sparkling wine grown in any other part of the world. Real French Champagne from the Champagne region is always written with a capital 'C'.

Otherwise, it's not Champagne nor is it champagne. In Spain, it is 'cava' and in the U.S. it is usually 'sparkling wine'...even if the root stock came from the Champagne region.

For obvious reasons-- shipping alone-- French Champagne costs more than American made, so in the spirit of economy, and with the excuse to sip my way through Napa, Sonoma and Mendocino counties, I have put together a small list of possibilities for your new years' toasts. Call it the Bubbly Blog and turn up the Michael Buble.

Note that the month of December is usually filled with wine and bubbly promotions-- if you like to lay down this sort of thing, this could be your chance to fill up the wine cave. And for those of you who haven't apprenticed in Reims as I have, a few shopping notes to remember while you are making your choice:
* Unlike wine, sparkling stuff does not have a long shelf life. For non-vintage (NV), three years is the average life span. Vintage can last 10-12 years, but don't push it.
* Like wine, the flavor in the bottle-- and the color-- is related to the type of grapes used, the blend and the length of time the skins were left in the mix. This means pink sparkling wine is a reflection of grape skins.
* Sparkling wine is most traditionally bottled in a, uh, bottle-- but there are small bottles called 'pop' that are the size of a small bottle of Coca Cola or soda pop and allow you to sip with a straw and even cans (Sofia) for added novelty.
* An unfinished bottle of sparkly should be capped with a spring-type bottle cap, which can be bought in most liquor stores. If all else fails, lay the curvature of a spoon -- basin side down--over the open bottle top to seal. When properly placed, the spoon will be balanced.
* For NV wines, French imports will be approximately $10 more than US made. For vintage years and specialty bottles or cuvees, anything goes. You can buy bubbly for $10.99 from a fairly well-rated house or you can pay $60, or more.

Finally, if you have a favorite or two, don't assume that a tasting at the vineyard will enhance your appreciation of the wine or the brand. I just went to one of my favorite French/ American brands' tasting in Mendocino and found it depressing and unfriendly (and they weren't even French). I will continue to buy that label, but only from a store. For the most part, wineries build their tasting rooms to impress and want you to enjoy your visit.

if you are in the area, check out:
*Gloria Ferrer (www.gloriaferrer.com); Sonoma
* Korbel (www.korbel.com); Guerneville
* Domaine Carneros (www.domainecarneros.com); Napa
* Mumm Napa (www.mummnapa.com); Napa
* Schramsberg (www.schramsberg.com); Calistoga
* Jeriko (www.Jeriko.us) Hopland
* Scharffenberg (split from the chocolate family years ago); Mendocino
* Domaine Chandon (www.chandon.com); Yountville

Reflections in a Goldeneye

2009-12-05T14:20:00.000-08:00

Am just back from a few days in Mendocino (the city) and Mendocino (the county) with memories of amazing scenery and wonderful wine-tastings. The entire visit was a revelation to me since I have never seen such small towns (many are composed of 3-4 buildings) or cared so much about the price of apples.

This is the Anderson Valley, famous for its pinot noir grapes and its apple farms. The first stop was Goldeneye, which is owned by Duckhorn (in Napa County)and has five different estate bottled pinots. Unlike the mothership, where a tasting is expensive and does not make a down payment on a liquid souvenir, at Goldeneye tastings cost either $5 or $10, which does indeed count toward a purchase.

What counts even more is the tasting room and its location within a crescent of vines, with picnic tables outside and arm chairs inside and plenty of comfort for just sipping and daydreaming. It's hard to pull yourself away, but when you realize that just up the road a few miles there's two famous apple farms, well, it's time to see if there's an apple in your eye.

Gowan's is a huge farm with a small, well-stocked roadside stand selling much more than apples. They even make their own apple pies, which are sold in a frozen state-- $14. About one dozen varieties of apples are for sale. I held out for the Apple Farm, another mile or two ahead, where the shed is run on the honor system and most apple varieties cost $2.50 a pound. As the days passed, I learned this is very expensive-- but at that point I didn't know, and was totally charmed by the rustic farm, it's stand, the fact that they have cottages as well as cooking classes and that the family at one point owned the building that became the French Laundry in Yountville. Both of these orchards and apple ops are just passed the town of Philo, which isn't too much of a town. Never mind.

Within the town of Philo itself, there's a new tasting room about the size of my bedroom, all in a perfectly restored tiny cottage, created to introduce the Phillips-Hill wines. They offer five pinots from two different appelations; the tasting costs $5. There's also a few bottles of pinot rose-- not often found in stores or online--that are perfect for summer time.

Philo is also home to the Lemon Market, a small but rather well-stocked mini-mart which is better than the market in nearby Boonville and is the best you'll find until you get to the town of Mendocino.

After that, you pass a few more vineyards and then head through a forest of redwood trees before you hit the Navarro River and then the ocean. It's all magical, made more so if there's fog and/or mist and you've stopped at the Navarro Winery for a free (!!!) tasting and some of their $11 non-fermented grape juice.

There are some sparkling wines made in this area-- as well as in Hopland (closer to Ukiah)-- and there is a $6 tasting at Roederer. I prefer mine to be Cristal and bought in France, but Roederer is one of the better known French firms with US vineyards.

When we got to the town of Mendocino, we checked into our hotel-- the famed MacCallum House, a stunning Victorian house and barn-- and then went to assorted stores and markets in town. That's where we found even more apples-- all for a lot less moolah. Oh well... all's fair in love, war and farming.

Napa Bottle Blog: Downtown St. Helena

2009-11-25T10:27:00.000-08:00

So, I am going to be brutally honest here, which is, alas, why you pay me the big bucks and I guess why my research has some value to it. St. Helena-- the main commercial shopping district of the destination portions of the Napa Valley, has an adorable downtown shopping district. Alas, it is a very fancy TT...no, not Tourist Trap, as I usually mean with those initials ...but a Tourist Town. It is cute beyond words. It is charming beyond description. It is adorable as in dreams of those who do not know better.

Much of the merchandise is over-priced; many of the vendors come with more attitude than a Las Vegas hooker. Well, it's just an expression I made up...I've only met Las Vegas hookers on CSI. And I met a Frenchman once, who was, ooohlala, tres rude. And I speak French. (I find the French can be rude until you prove you speak their language.)

I am not suggesting you drive past this town. I am confessing that there are a handful of excellent stores that are not only worth visiting but may inspire you to greater creativity. There are places to eat and even art works to inspect. There's an excellent wine shop. There's no public rest rooms.

But first, to make certain we're all in the right place at the right time, we will practice saying the place-name. Saint Hah-LENA. As easy as this may seem, it is hard for me, partly because I often think in French, and to me this should be HELLanah.

Next I will reveal a terrifying truth: the best store in town is a hardware store, Steve's. Honest. Hardware & Housewares; two storefront connected inside the store itself or on the street. Don't miss it. In fact, I will soon be doing some Shopping Detective blogs about items I found there. But I digress.

Downtown is about two blocks long, with stores and venues on both sides of the street. There is one movie theatre and several bakeries and eateries. While the clothes for sale in assorted shops are nice, and offer a genuine bit of insight into the local look, they are not much to flip for. There are two shops selling very expensive lingerie which either says a lot about the community (remember the TV show Falcon's Crest?) or the visitors to town. Beats me.

There are also several shoe shops; one is famous for its killer heels while I personally prefer Flats, 1219B Main Street, which has shoes up to size 12 for women. Yesss!!!!!

There are a handful of really good stores. Please note that while many stores do sell olive oil, none of them is the place to go. Stay tuned for my secret olive oil source Napa Valley Olive Oil Manufacture, 835 Charter Oak, St. Helena; [tel.]707/963-4179. This is away from the Main Street cutie pie district. It's worth the search.

Now, the best of show in downtown St. Helena:
* STEVES HARDWARES& HOUSEWARES, 1370 Main Street, everything but the kitchen sink and they will probably order that for you;
* MUSE, pictured above, for yarn and fiber crafts;
* MAIN STREET BOOKS,1315 Main Street, real books for real people made with real paper and even real binding and glue, not a Kindle in sight;
* FIDEAUX, a doggy couture shop with wow for woof;
* GOODMANS,1331 Main Street, casual clothes for men and women bought with just the right eye for the destination;
* WOODHOUSE, 1367 Main Street, locally made chocs;
* ST. HELENA WINE CENTER, 1321 Main Street, more than local choices;
* ST. JEAN DE LUZ,1219 Main Street; French tabletop with extraordinary embroidery facility-- there used to be an even better branch in Carmel-- check it out;
* OLIVIER, 1375 Main Street olive oil and olive prods-- this is visually pleasing and charming; another shop in Tahoe.

Much more on all of this in Born to Shop California Wine Country.

Napa Bottle Blog: Farmstead

2009-11-25T10:26:00.002-08:00

As I make up the charts for interviews and visits of the sources that will form the bones of the new Born to Shop California Wine Country, I use every printed guidebook to have a look-see at opinions on each property. After all, there are 400 wineries just in Napa Valley and I will not be covering all of them. I also need the right mix of wine bars, regular retail, farm stands, olive oil purveyors, chefs and hotels.

One of the leading properties to catch my eye was Long Meadow Ranch, which I understood was going to be one fancy farm stand.

Sooooo, when I booked an inspection, I actually wore jeans and wellies and barnyard clothes. Silly me. The address I was given was neither farm nor ranch nor veg-stand, but a construction site of the soon to be opened Farmstead, a collection of restored buildings at the edge of St. Helena, across the street from the restaurant Tre Vigne and a sneeze from the original Taylor's Refresher (burger joint).

Farmstead consists of a tasting room, which will open in December, in a restored gothic farmhouse and a newly-built stand alone restaurant created by Executive Chef Sheamus Feeley, who for the past eight years did kitchen concepts for the Hillstone Group out of their nearby Rutherford Grille. The restaurant will open to the public in January.

Since he has lived in Napa for many years, Feeley is familiar with the local lifestyle and is creating a restaurant for the community. His major innovation is that there will be no corkage fee for guests so that tourists can bring in a bottle they have bought in their explorations of the destination and local vintners can bring in their own wine for friends and family. Naturally, there will be a wine list--with a modest mark-up, Sheamus stresses. The standard markup for wine in these parts is three times cost, which Sheamus finds way too high.

Long Meadow Ranch, written LMR, is a vertical operation that has wine and wow. They grow their own grass-fed cattle, they grow their own produce, make their own olive oil and in between all that also have wine. Between the Tasting House and the restaurant, Sheamus will have a garden for visitors to actually see the process of bringing food from earth to table; there will also be demos as well as a nursery selling organic feed and farm products.

Watch this spot; obviously I will be reporting as both venues open to the public.

Napa Bottle Blog: Shafer & Stag's Leap

2009-11-25T10:26:00.001-08:00

Most people who think they know a little about wine or the Napa Valley area know about Stag's Leap; a few even know about the Stag's Leap Wars and the fact that Stags Leap has become its own appellation, partly because of those wars.

Few people, on the other hand, have heard of Shafer Wines, which is in the Stags Leap appellation and is most famous for a specific wine, which costs over $200 a bottle. I can't claim credit for discovering Shafer-- my new friend and noted wine expert Ben Weinberg from Unfiltered Unfined gave me his personal list of vineyards he thought should go in the Napa portion of Born to Shop California Wine Country. Since he gave me only three suggestions, and Shafer was top of the list, and because some of their wine is Stags Leap District, I scurried over there...thirsty.

Shafer is not the kind of place that attracts herds of tourists or twenty somethings in tight designer jeans. They have an appointment-only policy and seat 12 people at a long table for a formal tasting. And yes, the main reason you go here is to taste the $200 wine as part of the $45 tasting fee. You also need to know that reservations must be made waaaay in advance, possibly months ahead of time. Those twelve spaces are coveted.

There are wines that sell for $48 a bottle and some for $80 a bottle, but the one that the world is talking about is called Hillside Select, which is very hard to get in the first place, sells out on release, but is sold after the tasting (two bottle per person limit) and retails for $215 per bottle for the 2005.

If you've always wondered what a $200+ wine tastes like, you can find out without having to buy the whole bottle if you sign up for a tasting event. You should also know that this is considered a 'cult' wine, in the league as Screaming Eagle, the one that sold for $500,000 a bottle (it was a big bottle) in 2000.

The tasting room is simple, the property is unmarked off the Silverado Trail (#6154), and the atmosphere is pleasant but not razzle-dazzle. All of the people at my tasting (and yes, it was all couples) had gray hair and were probably around 60. I guess these are the remaining Baby Boomers who didn't lose their money in the stock market. They were thoughtful, intelligent and asked complicated questions with knowing confidence. They also invariably drained every drop from all six of the glasses they were served. I wondered who would be driving since I was incapable of drinking more than a sip or two from each glass.

Each place setting had a glass of water, an 'owner's manual' take-away journal about the vineyard and access to a basket of water crackers in the center of the table. When the 'bonus' wine was served in the front of the house, a tray of chocolate truffles was passed. There was one per person on the tray. I counted.

There were no nibbles, no wine/food pairings, no chefs. You were admonished not to feed the dog. This was obviously serious business on all levels-- the tasting was first class as was the push to buy the product. The wine tasting session was well led, conducted smoothly and with considerable style and grace, but it still reminded me of a hotelier making a sales pitch to a group of travel agents. But there was no power point...just powerful sips of righteous grape.

Unlike most other vineyards, the $90 for the tasting fee (two people at $45 each) cannot be applied to the purchase price of wine. Shipping could be arranged if you live in a state that allows this. With the crowd passing out their gold cards, I fled to something more casual.

Stag's Leap Wine Cellars, nearby, is a division of Fosters Wine Estates America and one of the ways to know if it's Stag's, Stags or Stags' (hey, don't laugh, this is what the lawsuits were about) is to find out if this is the Stag's Leap Wine Cellars which won the 1976 Paris tasting as featured in the movie Bottle Shock.

Once at the proper leap of faith (5766 Silverado Trail), you are where it all began for California wines-- the first of the award winning wines back in the day, the fight for land and territory and names and rights and the very business of having a few strangers over for a look-see. This is a property that was actually created as a resort and functions around hospitality, dating back to the 1880's. Not to get totally confused, there is Stags' Leap Winery at #6150.

But I digress and muddle the wine and the brain. The subject is not roses but rather Stag's Leap Wine Cellars. Like Shafer, this winery is also upside a long driveway that is unmarked save a few street numbers; it too requires reservations for a tasting and costs even more per person-- $45.

Here you settle back into a locally quarried stone /craftsman style bungalow-mansion (The Manor House) and admire the architectural details, the outside verandas, the Victorian toilets inside the house itself (pull the chain to flush) and take in the wine list. A resort in 1892, the property is as lush as the wines. Thankfully, wines here begin at $20 per bottle but average $35-38. The more expensive wines are $75 a bottle.

If all this is confusing, check out the Stags Leap District Growers, which is an organization of all the wineries in the appellation (including Shafer). Then, before you leave, hop on over to Frog's Leap, 8815 Conn Creek Road, in Rutherford.

The Napa Bottle Blogs

2009-11-25T09:58:00.000-08:00

So here I am at the Napa River Inn, overlooking -- yup, you guessed it-- the river that runs through downtown Napa. I'll be heading back to Tiburon soon to start cooking and preparing for the holiday feast, but wanted to explain the Napa Bottle Blog and how it works; how you access the information.

The Napa River Inn, btw, is extraordinary-- it's a historical hotel in a downtown redevelopment area called Riverfront-- there's condos, shops and the hotel-- called a luxury boutique hotel-- that stretches through several brick buildings, wrapping around the river bank. At night, there's little lights blinking from my terrace to add romance and charm to the halready sophisticated scene. I thin one of the best things was being asked to sign a no-smoking contract when I checked in. I've heard of no-smoking rooms, but this hotel is serious about protecting its image and integrity.

The hotel is built into an old mill complex from the 1880's and includes several buildings-- as well as a theatre, a bakery, a Victorian candy shoppe (!), several venues for meals and the Napa General Store, which is a terrific store and reason enough to come to this part of town. The store serves meals and features merchandise by local artists and craftspeople in a large, barn like setting with heaps of charm.

My room is at the end of one of the buidlings, a really large studio with fireplace, king bed, terrace, big flat screen TV, desk and lotsa amenities. For turn down service, I was given a bucket of ice and some chocolate wine bottles to munch on.

Because I am doing research for Born to Shop California Wine Country, I am spending several days a week in Napa and the surrounding valleys, meeting with winemakers, chefs, artists and locals (wait til you hear about my Wine Whisperer)...as well as checking in and checking out the various hotels that seem like a good fit for readers.

I began this in October and reported many blogs' worth on www.petergreenberg.com where you can follow my visits to about ten different vineyards.

The reporting now switches over to this site, so to continue the search for information on all fronts, the next month or two will provide plenty of story.

But first, a toast. We're drinking a Tavel rose with our Butterball-- not quite a California wine. But I wish you all the best holiday season possible and send love from the bottom of my grapes.