Neha Leela

Restlessness led me to book an impromptu weekend in the city of light.  I’m armed with my journal and books for endless amounts of brasserie idling.  I maintain a continued faith that remnants of years of french might salvage my dignity at the sunday morning food markets and I continue to entertain my flea market fantasy of rummaging through bins of vintage hermes scarves.

Beyond the gourmand and the Goyard, there’s a sepia-toned simplicity, femininity and elegance to Paris that I can’t wait to be enveloped by.

(image via thefrenchmouse)

I thought this UK Match.com ad was so sweet, softening the stigma around online dating, with a 8MM vintage camera feel and a joshua radin + ingrid michaelson-esque duet. Granted, even rubbish in a british accent sounds romantic.

If you could be anywhere in the world right now, where would you be.

Sicily, solo, sunning, silence.

image credit: camilla akrans

Living two blocks from newbury street, and having visited many of the spas in this neighborhood, I have never seen any spot that oozes as much vivid warmth and energy as this Portuguese barbershop.  I’m infatuated with the turquoise chairs, the contrasting red door frame and the bold teal walls captured in this photo.  I hope but am doubtful that if touring this town, many of us would stop to admire this colorful cave. 

image credit: The Sartorialist 

Our visit to England is a few days behind me and feels more like a distant memory, following a whirlwind work week wrought with catch-up, but the city left a distinct impression.  Beyond the fantastic time with friends, I was fascinated by the city’s  chemistry of antiquated charm countered with swank and modern.   Cobblestone streets are catwalks for cary grant-esque  elegance to edgy and boho bomber jackets and booties.   But nothing looks out of place at  a London crosswalk.

I’ve been since scouring the net for images to inspire and channel London-chic, but am across the board with rustic noblesse to barren lofts drenched in striking color.   For the time-being,  I’ve stumbled across Kensington based design couture maven, Jimmie Martin,  and feel the line reflects the urban energy:  the modern motifs on classic pieces are a stamp of London’s signature spirit.

Image Credits:  The Sartorialist , The Metropolitan Home

I’m many many moons away from maternity, but that didn’t stop me for falling (hard) for this boho baby bedding from Rickshaw Design. Maybe its the Indian inspired block-prints in warm colors or the namesakes of the collections that evoke memories from travel, but I can’t stop browsing bibs, burp and bedding sets. Any or all expecting friends are a great excuse!

The lavender season was behind us, the remnants of sunflower fields was rather dismal, a bit of rain hampered my overambitious plans of biking but eight days and six pounds (oops) later I can’t say I mastered it (sorry Jules), but I can certainly say I thoroughly enjoyed the art of French cooking.

And it truly is an art.

Preparation begins at the markets, which we reveled in visiting – basically planning our village hopping around local market days. The high-pitched falsetto of vendor’s greetings invites you to all but stick your nose into (I may have come too close to their disgust) the colorful arrays of sels de mer, seemingly ornamental artichokes, oriental red tomatoes, crusty baguettes and candied fruits.

I imagine each of these women who were scampering around me, returns to a kitchen like this one, that I fell in love with. Our hosts took pride in their kitchen; making it not just a workstation but ofcourse, a work of art. Lilies to add cheer, crisp white crockery – the more chipped the more charming – liberally displayed behind rustic, bold cabinetry. Scattered lovingly, vintage cake platters and brushed silver trinkets to showcase love and use.

And that charm, grace and effortlessness continued to the table making simple concotions look so sweet. Breakfast didn’t need to be omlettes, waffles or pancakes to look extravagant – a basket of sliced baguettes and croissants with perfectly portioned dollops of jellies hand spooned into compote jars and yogurts ladled into ceramic jars looked equally decadent.

Each of the villages where we stopped seemed like the set of “its a wonderful life” with an endless series of boulangeries, patisseries and charcuteries embedded into cobblestone streets. But each was home to a distinct and different delight – the perfect fig (Nice), the crispiest creme brulee (Aix-en-Provence), my first experience with cod– laden with creme fraiche and swathed in puff pastry (Rhone), a pomme tartin that was heaven (Rousillon) and a crepe soaked in raw cane sugar and dusted with cinnamon (Uzes). Yum! Now resumes mastering the art of creating that at home.

Prompted by the resurgence of Julia (thank you Julie Powell), I cannot track down a copy of Mastering the Art of French Cooking and the fronts of Williams Sonoma are clad in red, white and blue touting special dutch ovens for pot-a-feu.  So I too, perhaps subconsciously inspired by the legendary great and the images of Meryl Streep strolling through Parisian markets, am leaving for Nice this afternoon.

I’m a tad worried about using a week of vacation time against idling in a foreign country instead of waiting for furniture deliveries, re-upholstering and trying to understand the violent shaking of my new washing machine.  This concern is quickly dissolving with self-convincing that I’ll be returning with a statement piece, quite possibly  hand-painted posters from Atelier Contre-Jour or a gem from the Marche a la Brocante, an antique market in Nice, or at the least lavender milled soap from Provence.

Whether or not I return empty handed, I’m very excited about attempting to haggle at the markets, noshing on crepes suzette and local plats du jour and biking around the villages (clearly have an image here of sunflowers and a baguette in my front bike basket).  I’ll return in a week with lots of pictures or at the very least I may be able to report that I had a much easier time getting my hands on Julia’s narratives of french cuisine.