Tuesday, September 2, 2014

ChattyFeet Giveaway! Kate "Middle-Toe" Socks


Last week, I posted a hilarious photo of the newest (royal) addition to the ChattyFeet family, Kate Middle-Toe, to this blog's Facebook page and it received so much interest that I decided to do a giveaway! Yes! I love you so much, I'm willing to give away this pair of socks, which I'd very much like to keep for myself!

Aren't they great? They capture the essence of Kate Middleton perfectly: from the swoop of her immaculate blown-out bangs to the v-neck of what I can only imagine to be an Issa wrap dress, down to the signature eyeliner and slightly awkward smile.

To enter:

1. "Like" Angloyankophile on Facebook and follow me on Twitter (it's okay if you don't have a Twitter account, just "like" the page on Facebook)

2. "Like" ChattyFeet on Facebook or follow them on Instagram (trust me on this one, you'll get laugh-out-loud entertainment from their photos 24/7)

3. Leave a comment below or on the Angloyankophile Facebook page to tell me where you'd wear your Kate Middle-Toes to!

I'll pick a winner at random on Friday. You have until midnight, PST, for all my West Coast friends and I'll announce the winner on Monday morning. Good luck!

p.s. Also, these entertaining GIFs of the Duchess of Cambridge's most awkward moments from HuffPost.

Kate Middle-Toe socks provided courtesy of ChattyFeet. If you can't wait to get your hands on a pair, you can order them here with worldwide shipping.

Thursday, August 28, 2014

The Writing Process Blog Tour: Why I Write What I Write and How I Do It

I was thrilled when fellow American expat, Robin, (of the fabulous blog, Second Floor Flat) tagged me in the Writing Process "Blog Tour" that's currently circulating within the blogging community. I was particularly flattered that she described me as a "writer". A writer! I've never thought of myself as worthy of this title, so I'm pleased as punch that someone else has given it to me.

So here's how it works: I answer a set of questions about the writing process behind this blog and other projects that I'm working on, and I tag two other bloggers to do the same next week. Joining me on the Blog Tour next Thursday will be the absolutely brilliant blogger Runawaykiwi (a self-described "expat, gallery ghost & flat white addict" from - you guessed it - New Zealand) and the lovely, seriously talented blogger Shimelle, whose scrapbooking and beautiful photographs will make you green with envy.

So here I go ...
What are you working on?

My primary focus is writing for Angloyankophile. I have some really lovely, loyal readers who've been with me since the beginning (thank you!) and I like to stay on top of my game to ensure that I'm delivering fresh, personal, and exciting new content at least 2-3 times per week. As many of you know, I've started collaborating with a few companies for this blog, which has been a totally fun, new, and challenging direction for me - I'm really excited.

I'm also a regular contributor to Myfriendslike, a recommendations website based in Oxford. You can read some of my restaurant, travel, and culture reviews here as well as on the travel website, Triptease.

Beyond that, I contribute here and there on a freelance basis to some other websites, though I'm looking to expand my writing portfolio - if you know of any opportunities, please send them my way!

How does your work differ from others of its genre?

I started Angloyankophile when I came to a defining point in my stay here in the UK: I couldn't decide where I wanted to settle permanently and thought that starting a blog that higlighted all the highs and lows of both countries would help me make my decision. Of course, it hasn't at all. That's why this blog is called "Angloyankophile" - I'm in love with all things American and British. One does not outweigh the other.

While Angloyankophile is mostly lighthearted and fun, I also use this blog to explore the complexities of living abroad and notions of identity, as well as the fear and guilt associated with leaving behind my family. I always thought that writing about identity had to be academic and always backed up by facts or research, but I've found that writing about isolated incidents or thoughts I've had on the subject can also open itself up to wonderful, different avenues of discourse, which is fantastic. I love reading comments from others who are experiencing the same feelings as I am.

I like that Angloyankophile has a wide audience and is read by a variety of different people at different stages of life. I think (and I hope I'm not wrong) that this blog appeals to men and women of all ages, of all nationalities and backgrounds.

Why do you write what you do?

I want to tell you what I'm thinking, feeling, where I've been, what I've seen, what I've eaten, because I love to share what I'm enthusiastic about. Ask anyone who knows me: I'm such an enthusiastic person! There's also a part of me that hopes that, by sharing my experiences, you'll share yours with me too. And isn't that what writing is about? Sharing, giving, receiving, and reflecting? Sometimes I worry that I overshare though, and that's when I have to take a step back and assess why I'm writing what I'm writing - whether it's for me or for someone else. Or if I'm pretending to be someone who I'm not.

How does your writing process work?

I come up with random ideas for blog posts at really random times: while shaving my legs in the shower, staring out the bus window, waiting in line at Tesco ... anywhere but sitting in front of a blank compute screen, really. I'm particularly affected by situations or events that I've experienced recently. If I'm writing a restaurant or hotel review, words will pop into my head while I'm eating at the said restaurant or lying awake in bed at the hotel - words that I know I'll want to use when describing my experience there.

I was raised by a Tiger Mom who enforced daily, graded (yes, graded) writing assignments during summer vacations (I know, right? Example topic: "Should capital punishment be abolished? Discuss." I was 11. ELEVEN.) so I developed a good habit of writing regularly and focusing my constantly distracted thoughts into one channel. Thanks, Mom. These days, I shy away from topics such as capital punishment in favour of funny socks, American superlatives, and foxes that act out lyrics to a Rihanna song in the middle of the night.

So! That's all from me for now. As ever, thank you so much for reading Angloyankophile. Your support means the world to me. And next week, tune into Shimelle's fantastic, crafty blog and Rebecca's inspiring, witty blog for their takes on the Writing Process Blog Tour.

Over and out.

(Pictured above: my happy place, at "home" in Washington.)

Tuesday, August 26, 2014

Bank Holiday Weekend @ Ockenden Manor Hotel and Spa, West Sussex

Oh my goodness. We just had the most amazing (long) weekend away at Ockenden Manor - a hotel and spa located in a delightful little village called Cuckfield, deep in the West Sussex countryside.

I'd been struggling with a cold toward the end of the week last week and was really looking forward to getting some R&R at this beautiful spa hotel. John and I haven't been away together for a relaxing break like this in ages, so it was downright luxurious.

This was our view on most mornings:

I'd booked a "superior" room in the main building, but was informed when I arrived that we'd been upgraded to a junior spa suite. Heaven. Our room was gorgeous and had a free-standing tub (my weakness) and beautiful furnishings from Heal's. The bed was so fluffy and comfortable, I wanted to stay in it all day long!

We spent the weekend sipping wine in bare feet on the spa's roof terrace (which was conveniently accessible from our room) and swimming laps in the outdoor pool, which is connected to the indoor pool by a small little gap that you swim through - isn't that fun? The sun was out for most of the time, thankfully! But even after it set, we took a dip in the spa's outdoor jacuzzi and sat there under the stars, until closing time.

On Saturday evening, we had dinner at the hotel's Michelin-starred restaurant, which was incredible. I would have snapped some photos but the restaurant had a no-phone policy (and rightly so!), so I wanted to respect that. Moreover, I don't think you can really enjoy the experience of eating a beautifully crafted meal when you're too busy trying to get the "right angle" of each of your dishes! Leave that up to the website, I say. I had the most deliciously dreamy scallops as a starter, which was served with a sensational avocado, coriander, and tomato salsa, plus a brilliant but rich main course of oxtail, delicately balanced between paper-thin slices of celeriac. It was divine. But the best part was the "strawberries and cream" dessert, which arrived on a very thin layer of strawberry jello, with miniature meringues and homemade marshmallows. It might have been the best dessert I've ever had!

On Sunday, we took advantage of the nice weather and went for a walk in the countryside near the hotel. As John knows, I'm not the biggest nature lover (ask me about the time I wore completely inappropriate clothing for a hike in the Yorkshire Dales - hint: Steve Madden rain boots and a Tommy Hilfiger trench do not fare well in torrential downpour and slippery hillsides) but it was so nice to get some fresh air and stroll through the verdant woods and fields.

On Monday, we were so sad to leave. I called the front desk when we woke up to ask how much late checkout would cost and they were so nice, they let us have the room until 12:30 pm for no extra fee. The receptionist added that we could stay in the spa until 4:00 pm, even after we had checked out. We had a nice, long breakfast and spent an hour more or so in the spa until our cab came to take us to the train station.

It's a super easy train journey from London: 45 minutes from Victoria station or an hour from Blackfriars, followed by a 10 minute cab ride at the other end. I think, if you're spending a weekend or a short period of time away, your journey from your doorstep to the other end should be as seamless and stress-free as possible! Otherwise, it kind of defeats the purpose of having a relaxing spa break.

Oh, Ockenden Manor, I miss you so. Another day would have been perfect, but (real) life must go on!

Monday, August 18, 2014

ChattyFeet: A Match Made In Sock Heaven

This weekend, Brad Feet met Yoko Mono - a match made in (sock) heaven, like their owners.

I've blogged about the amazing ChattyFeet before and how much their Brad Feet socks resemble John (heh, heh, heh), but lo and behold, when they sent me a pair of Yoko Monos earlier in the week, I couldn't help but notice how much she looked like ... well, me. I may not have the bangs any more, but I'm working on getting them back.

So what better way to cheer us up on this dreary, rainy, windy weekend than to pop on a pair of ChattyFeet socks and binge-watch Breaking Bad hunker down at home with our sock-doppelgangers?

I love these socks because they make for an excellent talking point - plus, the characters' faces are printed on the underside of the socks as well, not just the top. Even John was enamoured.

Don't they make a cute couple?

They've just released new characters (I personally love Loli and Kloss) and at £7.00 a pair, they make an excellent gift (particularly for someone who has a drawer full of boring black socks in 3 different lengths - ahem, namely me).

But best of all ...

... CHATTYFEET MAKES BABY SOCKS. Yes, baby socks. Although they're sized 12-24 months, I stuck them on Dorothy anyway (who's currently six months old!!! How time flies ...) and they were so adorable, I almost keeled over in cuteness overload. She seemed to love them too, as her leg thrashing went into overdrive and she gurgled happily while grasping at her feet. It must be fun to see a brightly colored character on your feet when you're that age! Sweetness.

Kids socks are only a fiver (£5.00) and seeing them on Dorothy made me want to buy them for every baby we know. In a world that's full of baby gifts in pinks and blues (overpriced tutus, while cute, also make me roll my eyes), it's so refreshing to see something out there that's a little more unique, fun, and out of the ordinary.

Rock on, rebel socks, rock on.

Brad Feet and Yoko Mono were generously provided to me courtesy of ChattySocks. You can buy your own Chatty pair either via the ChattyFeet website or Not On The High Street

Tuesday, August 12, 2014

Leon's Lemon & Ginger Crunch

I love, love, love to bake. It's one of my favorite stress-relievers and I love being methodical about cracking eggs, following a recipe, and putting my electric mixer to good use. I bake, but not too often, and definitely nothing fancy. Now that The Great British Bake-Off is back on our screens, I feel even more inspired to turn the oven on and dig out my Hummingbird Bakery cookbook.

Recently, John and I discovered something amazing: if I walk 10 minutes east from work and he walks 10 minutes west from work, we meet squarely in the middle! I don't know why we didn't think of this sooner, but we've been meeting for lunch now and again, which is lovely.

A couple of weeks ago, we met at our usual haunt, Leon and John did not get enough to eat. I eyed his "breadless" lunch warily and said, "That looks like 1/4 of a lunch." After polishing it off in no time, he got up again to get some dessert and came back with a lemon and ginger crunch bar.

"Want some?" he asked, after taking a bit and pushing it toward me. I wrinkled my nose in disgust. "Uh, no. I don't like ginger or crunchy things. You know that."

Then, predictably, I finished my superfood salad and reached for the ginger crunch bar. "Oh wow," I exclaimed after one bite. "This thing is delicious! In fact, it would be so good with a cup of ... tea!" I felt my American-ness slowly fading away into the distance as I said that.

John didn't want the rest, so I ended up taking the ginger bar back to work and having it with - you guessed it - a cup of milky tea. I liked it so much that I (naturally) tweeted about it: "This ginger crunch thing from @leonrestaurants is amazing. I need the recipe." Seconds later, a tweet came back from @leonrestaurants, who kindly provided me with the recipe - even though it's not in any of their cookbooks.

Turns out that the recipe is kind of labor-intensive, since you have to make the crunchy polenta base first and let it cool completely, before making and spooning the sponge mixture on top (with a layer of lemon curd in the middle). The ingredients were also not the easiest to source, but now I have a huge bag of polenta that I'll probably never use again (if you know any amazing polenta recipes, please send them my way) and a jar of Tesco's Finest lemon curd.

If you're passing by a Leon (they're ubiquitous in the West End - my favorite ones are on the Strand and near Carnaby Street after a particularly grueling afternoon of shopping), you should pick up a lemon and ginger crunch ... it'll change your mind on all things crunchy and ginger-y.

Monday, August 11, 2014

Dinner @ The 3 Crowns

One day, I'll dust off John's SLR, learn how to take decent photos, buy a photo editing suite, and provide you with more appealing shots rather than photos taken on my iPhone and Instagrammed within an inch of their lives. Until then, this is what you'll have to live with, I'm afraid.

After our visit to see the poppies at the Tower of London last week, I was ravenous. I also felt a little hangry (for those of you who are not in the know: hangry = hungry + angry). I thought the walk to the bus stop we needed would only take 5 minutes, but upon closer inspection on the Citymapper app (which is AMAZING, btw), it actually took 12. I was not sure I had enough calories to last 12 minutes in sticky, humid London.

But the reward was worth it: dinner at The 3 Crowns (not to be confused with The Three Crowns in Stoke Newington) near Old Street. I'd passed it on the bus many times on my way home from yoga/work and heard amazing things about it from Plum, but never had the chance to stop by.

Well, this couldn't have been more timely. I was worried that it would be completely full at that time of the night, but luckily, most people were taking advantage of the good weather by drinking outside so we nabbed a table nearly right away (the tables filled up as the evening progressed).

"I haven't eaten out in ages," I said to John, as I spread my napkin over my lap and reached for a piece of bread.

"Didn't you just go to Ottolenghi last night?" John asked, quizzically.

My hand froze over the bread and I blushed. He was right - I had just eaten out. And not in small proportions either, as my mind flashed back to the mouth-wateringly delicious roasted beetroot and sesame dressed salad, glazed carrots and turnips, thick slices of pork belly and hake, polished off with an ice cream from Islington's Udderlicious.

My bad.

But on to the next meal ...

To start, we ordered the salt duck with pickled cherries and radishes (top right photo). It was tasty: rustic and reminiscent of farmhouse cooking - like something out of an episode of Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall's various TV programs about sustainable dining. The cherries were a little bit too pickled for my liking, so we left most of those, but they were an excellent contrast to the flavor of the duck.

I was head over heels in love with my main dish, however - the roast Middlewhite pork with mushrooms and runner beans. I'd only previously tried Middlewhite pork at the revered St. John, so this dish had high expectations to live up to. First, I was surprised by the presentation - I had expected a run-of-the-mill slab of pork on the plate, served with an accompaniment of mushrooms and runner beans, so when the artfully arranged dish arrived, I couldn't wait to dig in. The slices of slightly-salty, but tender pieces of pork were hidden beneath the perfectly seasoned runner beans and mushrooms - the perfect solution to my famished state.

The only slight let-down was the dessert of bread and butter pudding, which looked delicious, but was a little disappointing in taste. For a dessert, it wasn't very sweet (though I think there was chocolate in one of the many layers) but it was delicately done and beautifully presented. Similarly, the strawberries were a little limpid and tasteless, but I think that's down to the strawberry season winding down in England more than anything else.

During the walk home, I made John slow down because I was getting a stitch in my side.

"I've got to unbutton the top button of my pants," I announced, as we walked along with the last wave of commuters. "This is like, getting painful."

I looked down.

"Oh wow. That's, like, totally not obvious," I said, as the tab of my pants flopped out conspiciously under my top.

Overdid it again.

Anyway, I'd give The 3 Crowns two thumbs up - excellent service to boot. If you're in the neighborhood, it's definitely worth stopping by. Make sure you wear an elasticated waistband. Or better yet, one of those shapeless tunic dresses.

Friday, August 8, 2014

Americans: We Let You Know When You're Doing A Great Job Exclamation Point! (And When You're Not)

Whenever I accompish something of significant achievement in the realm of personal admin (personal admin = domestic duties, social event planning, etc.) - like, say, successfully organizing dinner plans with friends we haven't seen for a while or pairing up all of John's errant socks because I feel damn sorry for him - John will give me two thumbs up, put on a horrific faux American accent and go, "Great jawb." It's so hideous, but I know what he's getting at: whereas Brits like to exclaim "Well done!" at deserving accomplishments, we Americans prefer the emphatic, "Great job!"

You're a six-month old who just learned to roll onto your tummy? Great job!

You're a retiree who won at bingo three nights in a row? Great job!

You passed your driving test after failing three times? Great job!

You get the idea.

I still haven't given up on using, "Great job!" I remember when I was working my first summer job as a high school student in the Men's department of a now defunct, low-budget department store. I freaking hated that job. You know what American return policies are like (you can basically return anything with a full refund, like, any time). I once found myself dutifully placing returned men's underwear onto hangers for the clearance rack. That was one of my lowest points. That, and another time when a man asked me (when trying to make conversation at the till) if I was planning on taking my kids to Disneyland (I was 17). Or that time when a customer said to me, "I don't know how us Americans get so big," while pointing to a size 44 pair of shorts. "If only we were more like you Asians," he mused. "And ate a diet of rice, instead of junk." I was speechless but said, "Thank you?" I didn't want to disappoint him by pointing out the rising rate of diabetes amongst East Asians due to a rice-concentrated diet or the other, obvious flaw in his statement (hint: I am American ...).

But I digress.

I remember a man coming up to me one day - an elderly gentleman with his wife - after I had dealt with a particularly difficult customer ("What do you mean you won't take my 6 coupons that have expired, rendering my final total for $46 worth of clothes to 6 cents?!! You fucking bitch!!" - not in those exact words, but something like that) and saying, "Hey there! You know what? You're doing a great job." He smiled and said it with such sincerety that it just blew that horrible customer service experience right out of my mind. Poof! Bad customer gone, good customer in.

So today, I was at the post office next to my office, which is not the best example of sparkling customer service. But on this occasion, I got the lovely cashier who is always exceptionally nice and friendly. So, I took a deep breath, and after grabbing my receipt, I said, "Can I just say ... you're the nicest person working in this post office. Thank you. I think that every time I come to your desk. You're so genuinely friendly and I know that everyone really appreciates it, so ... I just wanted to let you know."

I cringed inside even as I was saying the words, but remembered how awesome that nice grandpa's encouragement at the department store made me feel - even as I hung still-warm men's briefs onto hangers.

I recounted the story to John, who said, "It makes me blush hearing you say it, but I'm glad you do it."

So yes, I will. I will continue to let you know when you're doing a "great job" (I will also let you know when you're not, but that'll be the subject of an entirely different post).