gone with the dessert winds...

Early rising,

Up at 6 am to go into the building next door, to leave our golden DNA in a small cup labeled with our name and date. Last day, no better even - last hours, minutes(!) at the Ranch and I am honestly happy to leave.
FOOD. Good honest food. Oh, I can't wait. Will go now, to have Dracula suck some blood out of me (SCARRED!!!) and then one more 'luscious' breakfast, consisting of sad looking fruit and my hard fought for carrot juice. And than out. FREEDOM at last again. Oh, and not to forget, I will go and pick up my clay bowl, which I made 2 days ago in PETRA'S artsy school. Petra is a German Expat, who looks more like a native Indian than a Native. Beautiful and shiny she is an inspirational being and I am happy that our paths have crossed, even in such a short time. If you ever make it to Canyon Ranch, IF... you like that sort of thing, go and visit Petra's class or take a hike with her. And since I am on the 'must do while here row' - go and take a spiritual journey with Jonathan or join his sacred drumming at the sweat lounge. But as promised, more to the spiritual trip I took- later...
Must rush!!!

AU...AU...AU...
Female Draculas sucked my veins dry, for some strange nutri-test that apparently tells everything, that is in and out of order inside my body... The test results will come back in 4 weeks, will let you know the,n if it was worth the hefty $$$ tag.

My clay bowl by the way is lovely, I am rather proud of MYSELF.  Well done, Anna, maybe there is a future in the pottery barn? Any future in something sounds good enough, barn or not, I take it!!! I certainly will look into the pottery making back in Sintra, pottery after all is a big thing in Portugal. It is a wonderful feeling to roll out, form and shape the clay. Pretty much like baking, a very meditational work. Just as Gandhi said - When down do something with your hands, people. It is the best prozac that's out there. (I say) Some other similar calming hobbies include sawing, knitting, painting or gardening. If you are good or not, does not matter. Try it... You will be amazed by the healing powers...

And now, the best part of the day - we are leaving for New York. Not that NY is my favorite place, as some memories from the time spend there are very dark and very very bad and better stay buried in the UNDERWORLD.  Wild, may be a gentler  description...
But NEW YORK, good or bad, is away from the Ranch, away from the bland days and the hungry nights. It is at last - us again without a leash.
Our driver this time is very charming and composed, like out of an old movie and does not mind, when I ask him to stop on the road side, to take an urgent pee. I did drink liters of water this morning, as advised by the Draculas, who also like pee. (strange!)
So I peed, on the road side of some Arizona highway, next to lots of trash and glass, and it felt good to do something illegal after such restricted 'holiday-research-confinement'.

US-AIR, 1. class ( I took the liberty to buy new tickets, screw Jet Blue), no more Army carrier for us anymore. Hope it will be better.
At the airport: Check in via machine only is a horrible welcome to our 21.century. I want a person. I want to talk, I want to ask, I want to feel. I want the good old days back!!!
At least on board the stewardesses seem pretty alife and real. No robot air-waitress yet, but I am sure, it is already in the making. Hopefully, she the Robertess, will be not well functioning until the time I am too old and too tired to jet around. Or maybe, by then, we will be beaming ourselfs around... I want to be in BORA BORA...bufffff...
I want to be on a beach with virgin sand...kabuuuuuuuuufffffff... I want to be in Bali for sunset... I am looking forward to the beaming times. I am beaming just dreaming (of it)
The plane is pretty ok, seats are wide and the service decent. Still, no comparisment to European standards, with fine wine and dine on board. (Lufthansa has even served sushi lately)
The red wine, of course from a plastic cup, no glass (NO!NO!NO!) is undrinkable, the Chardonay bearable, so we stick with white for once.
Arriving evening hour in Newark we jump into  a very nice and clean cap, to no surprise the driver is from Uruguay... Ahhhh, Punta... wild beaches and land, land, land... It is a wonderful country, quiet and tinted in the same golden ripe-apple glow, as Tuscany.

known (I don't know it) french place in walking distance.
We arrive at our sleep quarters, 70 Park Ave. Hotel. It is one of those new boutique hotels, advertising the home away from home spirit at affordable rates. Our room is very nice, but not much bigger than the bed. The bathroom is a tiny cupboard like space and once the door is closed, it is almost impossible to open it from the inside and to pee. But the bed is lovely. The Frette linen is ohhhh, so soft and welcoming after 4 hours in airspace. But there is something that is much more important and that is food. A good meal to fill up, soak up and rejuvenate after so much healthy living. We ask the concierge, and she recommends a well know French place, just around the corner.

 arriving in style

La Grenouille (The Frog)
Sounds good...
Oh, and what a delicious surprise. The place reminds of elegant, old Paris. A very well to do crowd and impeccable service by French waiters. We have a bottle of Bordeaux, nothing very special and not up in the 0000 price heaven. The food, now..., THE FOOD is absolutely divine. Foi Gras salad for me, with a cinnamon plum sauce followed by Lamb chops with pumpkin gnoccis. The Prince went for Duck Magaret and was happily satisfied. Some Muscadet and a souffle to finish off this well deserved meal, we make it home in a somewhat cloudy state. The only disturbance to such lovely evening was a rather un-refined and extremely loud table, where particularly one woman was voicing her slurred thoughts and opinions way above concert levels. The fellow food lovers seemed as annoyed as us (Prince more than me), that he decided to make a schooooosh sign towards the loose female. Not appreciated at all, the husband came over explaining that we are party killers, and this day is very special to them. So hence that, special day - and anyone is free to scream and shout ? How about moving the special day to a noisier place with a club like ambiance?

Good night everybody,
dreaming in our soft bed of more yummmmm to come...


And for your next visit to the big apple and some fine French fare:


La Grenouille
3 East 52nd Street
New York, NY
10022


Tel: 212 752 1495
www.la-grenouille.com

History

The restaurant opened its doors on December 19th, 1962 on a quiet night in the midst of a snowstorm.

From the first day there were flowers, just a few roses here and there, but few as they were, this was to be the birth of a tradition.

La Grenouille serves classic French cuisine and spontaneous creations in a glowing setting that many consider home.

Be aware - it is not cheap! Reservation recommended. Jackets are a must for him and kids under 12 stay home and wait for the dogy bag (well, you could try, but it would not look it's part there...)