In Defense of Thanksgiving

I have heard rumors that we may or may not be considering going out to eat for Thanksgiving dinner, and I am writing to implore you to reconsider.

After spending the majority of the past six months abroad and away from everything that is good and American, I have been counting down the days to Thanksgiving. The stuffing, the turkey, the gravy, the mashed potatoes, anything pumpkin, I'd love some nice roasted green beans with slivered almonds maybe...I digress. More importantly, I have been looking forward to the quality time spent with the fam and friends. The camaraderie as we all work together to accomplish one of the most delicious meals of the year. The high fives after the turkey is not burnt or still squawking. The football game on the tv in the background. The Cohn vs. Faxon touch football game that I have been meaning to tell you is occurring.

Now, I realize that with all of these feelings of warmth and tenderness can also come a lot of stress regarding the timing, the food, the cleaning, etc. And I know that as parents you get sick of cooking every day and would love to take a night off to enjoy everything yourself. So I have a solution. I'll do it. Everything. I'll make a menu and get approvals from everyone. I will do the shopping, the prep work, the table setting, the turkey basting, the pumpkin carving, the potato smashing. I've been wanting to make my own turkey for a while now, and I already have an Herb-Butter Turkey Recipe from Tom Colicchio picked out.

I will even clean. I will spend the hours or so making sure that each square millimeter of crystal is shiny and sparkling. I will make sure that the silverware is polished and back in the box, that the trash is taken out, and that the only scent remaining in the kitchen is that of lemon and thyme from the organic cleaning products that we know and love.

Your day will be absolutely stress free. I'll even schedule in some hors d'oeuvres so that you don't get too hungry, and maybe I'll employ Charlotte and Syd to pass. The wine will flow like the beer in Prague, the cheese will reek of France, and any other little European touches I've picked up can get thrown in as well.

Please just give me the go ahead, and I promise Bon Appetit will come alive in your kitchen. This would mean the world to me, and would make all of my dreams come true.

Awaiting your decision with baited breath and a growling stomach.

Best Regards,

Mel Faxon

Plus ça change, plus c'est la même chose

Syd and I were talking the other day, and she said to me, “the more I travel, and sit in cafés or go through airports or walk through parks, the more I realize we’re all just people. We’re all a little bit weird, and we’re all just people.”

It’s true. No matter where you go, you will always find people holding hands, there will always be moms pushing strollers and kids playing tag, there will always be guys hitting on girls in bars, or vice versa. There will always be people eating, old couples sitting down on a bench simply happy to be alive.

So often, I hear Americans say, “Oh my god, the French are so rude,” or “Italian men are so aggressive!” But my first thought is, “Have you been to New York?” or “Have you been to a frat party?” There will always be some cities where people are harder around the edges, where smiles don’t flow as easily as they do in places like the American South. I grew up in New England – when people smile at you on the street you run away. And yes, maybe in some terms Italian men get very excited about American girls, but I’ve never felt as accosted as by a fraternity brother after one too many rounds on the ruit table.

There’s nothing like a language barrier to help emphasize the fact that we are all just in this life together.  When you have to struggle to communicate, to act things out with your hands or even your whole body, when you are able to laugh at yourself in your foolishness and celebrate with the other person when you both finally get your point across – it’s one of the greatest feelings of accomplishment. And nothing unites different people like laughter.

The point is, the more that I interact with different cultures, and the more that I learn new differences, the more I realize that there really aren’t any.  I think that living abroad has really given me a gift in helping me realize this.  We’re all just people trying to live from one day to the next, and there’s no room for fear or ignorance.

Southern Spain, I just can't quit you

 So I’ve been hating on Spanish cuisine a little bit. After spending a summer eating some of the best cuisine France had to offer, adjusting to a diet with staples such as fried potatoes with mayonnaise and ham was slightly depressing. I was beginning to think that I was doomed a palate of bland fried food for the rest of my time here, and then this weekend I went to Southern Spain.

There is definitely a reason why Sevilla is known for its tapas (besides being the origin of the dish). I didn’t eat a bad thing while I was there. From the smoked salmon, avocado and tomato salad for lunch, the unreal quail and ratatouille tapa at Panduro, or even just the best Spanish tortilla I’ve ever consumed as a small snack, this food left me at a loss for words.

Taberna el Panduro has won the award in Sevilla for the best tapas for a couple years running now, and it wasn’t hard to taste why. With a green “creamy” risotto, the best Tuna Tataki in the world, and the most wonderfully juicy swordfish, this place is as much of a must-see as the Plaza de Espana. 

Add in the largest cathedral in the world, Las Setas, and one of the largest "old towns" in Europe, Sevilla is the most beautifully delicious city in Spain.

Combine this with Granada, where it is a law that if you order a drink in a restaurant, they have to give you free tapas, and Southern Spain is my new favorite place in the world. Leaving this morning was a conscious mental strain, and I will be dreaming about The Land of the Tapas until my next visit.

Pinterest is the best worst thing that’s ever happened to me

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I’m not sure if you’ve discovered the magical wonderland that is Pinterest yet, but I must strongly advise against it. Restrain yourself. Don’t go down that road. You’ll never come back.

You want to travel? Well Pinterest has that covered. Even I have a Wanderlust board full of photos of places that I have been, and many more that I have yet to tackle. But looking at those pictures doesn’t come close to actually going. Browsing through someone else’s boards with captions like #50thingsbeforeIdie doesn’t help you book that ticket. It just makes your eyes glaze over and five hours later you realize that you’re still sitting at a desk and not on a plane.

Oh, do you want to lose weight? Well Pinterest just became your new personal trainer. There are countless ab exercises, squats you’ve never even heard of, all attached to amazing, rock hard bodied models who have 5% body fat, do yoga every morning after their 13 mile run and only eat kale and quinoa, unless they’re juicing. Oh, and don’t worry, there are quotes times a bajillion for any moment of weakness (just pain leaving the body) to help you stay motivated. Don’t even think about eating that cookie, because a moment on the lips isn’t worth the 6 hours of interval sprints on the treadmill that you’d need to burn if off. Don’t go near that pumpkin spice donut with buttermilk spiced glaze…

And OMG did you see those Pumpkin flavored rice krispy treats? Right next to the autumn white wine sangria, the flourless chocolate cake with raspberry whipped Chantilly and the chicken potpie that you can make in less than 23 minutes? And yeah those Red Velvet Crepes might not be the healthiest but if you eat them as a dessert after that super healthy BUT WAIT GRILLED CHEESE MAKEOVERS? And after that killer workout this morning you can definitely afford to eat all the perfect crockpot mac and cheese that you want and still fit into those amazing…

Chanel tweed pants and Tory Burch flats. Oh, you don’t make a million dollars a year? You can’t afford to buy out the top floor of Barneys? Don’t worry, after you’ve searched through every Vogue Fashion week pin, Etsy will show you how to sew your own peppermint buttons and pin them on your own handcrafted wooden corkboard to go on the whitewashed walls of your dream kitchen overlaid with fur rugs and decorated with the best art possible while your five puppies and commercial ready small children walk hand in hand through flower filled gardens.

I give up.  

An ode to Barcelona

I know I’ve written about the fact that I like being a tourist, but this weekend really nailed that sentiment shut. Being able to guide the trip to Barcelona was one of the most rewarding experiences of my life.

There is nothing like going around a city in which you live with someone new. Someone who hasn’t seen the mosaic tiles of Casa Batlló. Someone who hasn’t had their breath taken away when walking into Catedral de Santa Maria del Mar. Someone who has never tasted patatas bravas.

There’s something magical about the small winding streets of the Gotico and El Borne. There’s something exhilarating about the wind in your hair while biking through the Parc of the Citadel. Something youthful about the candy land that is Parc Guell.

When you show someone around your city, and you see their amazement, their excitement, when you experience their physical response, it affects you as well. Maybe subconsciously, maybe blatantly, but all I know is I fell in love with Barcelona all over again this weekend.