Rancho Valencia

A couple of months ago, I had the Best.  Day. Ever.  Me and four of my friends spent the day at Rancho Valencia , in Rancho Santa Fe (California).  Despite the picture on the spa website, rest assured that there is no requirement to stand in an outside shower half-naked.  To the right is another picture of the resort, right outside the relaxation room.  I didn't take that picture.  In fact, woman in the picture isn't even one of the friends I was with that day.  The woman in the picture is my friend Alice, who went to Rancho Valencia on a totally different day, and who has no idea that I've nabbed her Facebook photo for my own selfish purposes.

From what I hear all the Auberge resorts are to die for, and the service is spectactular.  Rancho Valencia in particular has a seasonal "quench", which is a service that varies by season that's 60 minutes long and costs $100.  It's great value when you consider that you have access to the resort grounds, which includes a huge, gorgeous relaxation room with a big fireplace and silk tea bags, yoga classes, pool and hot tub, and cabanas for lunching poolside.  Even though the place was only minutes from where we live, we felt that we had escaped to a serene paradise where our sanity could once again be restored.

Next on my wish list?  Solage Calistoga, which is affiliated with Auberge.  Best saved for when I'm making money again, but I am pretty sure from looking at the website that I should be living there. 

My Many Travels

We have a lot to catch up on. By "a lot" I mean approximately the ten pounds I've put on in the past week. The other day I took off my jeans and I literally had welts along the waistline and the thighs because they were so tight.




It started out early next week (and by early, I mean 4 AM, which is when I got up to catch my flight) when I made the trek from San Diego to Hartford, CT. There is no direct flight between the two points, so much of that day was spent stuffing airport food and snacks into my mouth in between and after flights. Our corporate partner put us up at the Saybrook Point Inn in Old Saybrook, CT, which was surprisingly nice. Old Saybrook is a cute little New England town, where as far as I could tell people never left. The Inn was lovely -- the photos that you see in the Photo Gallery link on their website is actually very representative of the facilities. The rooms were huge, and best of all, the bathrooms were spacious and incredibly well-lit (and as someone who is prone to such strange afflictions as the occasional zit on the eyelid, I can attest that the lighting was adequate for the alchemy required to cosmetically remedy my maladies). The photo above was the view taken from my room. I should have had a really good nights' sleep but there was this nautical mirror in the room which gave it a sort of shipwrecked/haunted feeling, which resulted in paranormal paranoia and thus insomnia on my part in what should otherwise have been an incredibly romantic environment. In short, the inn is great for couples, not so good for the paranoid.





I took this picture at the restaurant at the hotel, Terra Mar. The food was surprisingly good; I had pretty low expectations of a small-town operation, but then again, I do come from a town with not much to brag about in terms of restaurants. I started off with the Maine Lobster Bisque, which was delightful, and followed up with the Stonington CT Seared Sea Scallops, which were a bit overdone but otherwise good. Breakfast was hearty and satisfied me well into lunchtime (which was fortunate since the salad we ordered in, from a local lunch place, was basically rabbit food with no dressing).



That evening, we proceeded on to New York, where we stayed at the Westin Times Square, whose rooms are not nearly as nice as depicted on their website. I suppose they look roughly like the photos, but the pics have clearly been photoshopped to appear a lot more upscale than they actually are. The common terminology amongst the group when describing the restroom was "prison bathroom". It wasn't terrible by any means, but compared to the Old Saybrook Inn it was tired and certainly a few steps down.





We headed over to Valbella in the Meat-Packing District for dinner, where an acquaintance arranged for us to get a room in a private wine cellar. There was a vault-like door, which, once closed, made the room completely silent, and I felt like we were a bunch of teenagers at prom in a restaurant at which we were much too young to patronize. The waiter there confirmed my sentiments. I don't recall too much detail on the gastronomic joys of the dinner (being surrounded by hundreds of bottles of wine might have had something to do with that), but I did discover that 1) the President / COO of our partner company loves beets as much as I do, and 2) I pretty much could not fit another bite into my body due to clothing constraints. The food was good, but I'm not sure it was commensurate with the price, and all that was blunted by the haughty attitude of the waiter on staff.





The next day, after a sleepless night and waking at 3 AM PST for a day of meetings, we went around town and met with other business people. Without going into too much more detail, let me just recommend Quality Florist if you ever need a florist in New York (they do a great job, and really care about their customers), and Schweitzer Linen if you're in the market for luxurious sheets. There was then a trip to the airport, and then 7 hours spent at JFK while our flight was perpetually delayed and I was ready to slit my wrists with a plastic knife. I swear the plane we took back was made of Legos and had half the space of any normal plane.





I was home then for a day, and then headed out on a spa getaway weekend with a friend of mine from business school. We went to Palm Springs and stayed at the Westin Mission Hills , which was a nice-enough-looking resort but could have been better on service. We were first booked into a room with a King bed, which was annoying since 1) we had specifically requested a room with two double beds, and 2) as two working moms looking for a break, we were really looking forward to hogging up an entire bed and sleeping spread out into a star shape. We were eventually moved into such a room, only to discover that we had a room with a leaky sink. The resort was pretty dead -- probably reflective of the economy. The restaurant at the resort was ok -- nothing that blew me away.

We ate one evening at Thai Smile, which, despite the alarming lack of Thai people, was actually pretty good. We also watched the latest Bond flick, Quantum of Solace, which eliminated any doubts I might have had that being a secret agent is a very family-unfriendly job. After a week back at work, I'm ready for another vacation. Sadly, there are none on the horizon. Ah well, there's always wine.

I Got the Boot

Whoa, I didn't mean to make the image that big. But I also can't seem to figure out what I did wrong, so let's move on.

I haven't posted in a while, so you (I do have a realistic perception of my readership, so yes, that would be "you" in the singular) may be wondering what I've been up to. The truth is, I can't really remember. I blame my children. I have this theory that while you're pregnant, the child, in addition to sucking all the nutrients out of your body, also drains away the ability to ever wear dresses made of knitwear and your short-term memory. The worst question anyone can ask me on Monday morning is, "What did you do this weekend?"

The good news is that I have been taking pictures, so those usually help me with recollection. And I do remember that two days ago, I got into work, reached into my bag to pull out my laptop, and promptly got a deep wide paper cut from a manila folder that I had also shoved into my bag. It was on my fourth finger on my right hand. Before I went on my trip to Colombia I went through the exercise of carefully selecting a fingertip to have lopped off if my kidnappers were to do so in order to prove that I was in their custody (this also assumed that they would have taken requests, but I would think that most kidnappers would). I'm pretty sure that at the time I went with the fourth finger -- probably on my left hand. Having cut the fourth on my right hand, however, I'm sort of reconsidering. The fourth contributes more than you think -- it really helps to balance your hand when doing a variety of tasks, ranging from slicing vegetables to styling your hair. So I'm really not sure what I'd pick. The pinky? That one's pretty important too -- especially for capitalization on a QWERTY keyboard. Tough call. Maybe best to leave it to the kidnappers.

Speaking of business trips, I have another one in about a week. I'm going to Connecticut and New York. After I booked the trip I realized that I had no closed-toe shoes. See the photo above to find out why. So I embarked on a mission to find ankle boots that met the following criteria:

• I can comfortably spend 12 hours on a plane in them.
• They are not totally boring and devoid of style.
• They are no more than $300, since the majority of their useful life will happen on this trip.
• I can walk around NYC in them while lugging a laptop, luggage, and a handbag that I would have rubbed with Apple leather cleaner prior to departure.

Since the local selection is pretty limited, I ordered a total of 8 pairs of boots from the following retailers:

• Bloomingdales
• Nordstrom
• SmartBargains
• DSW

As my forecast expected, only one of them really worked out. To my surprise, it was the cheapest of them all -- they were so cheap, in fact, that I almost didn't order them. So the winner is: Audrey Brooke's Jimmie Leather Ankle Boots -- at $69.94!!! They're cute, incredibly comfortable, and practically free! A close runner up was the Boutique 9 Coda ankle boot from Bloomingdales -- going for $195, it had superior materials and craftsmanship, and surprising comfort level given the height of the heel -- but I think the boots run a little big, so the pair I got was way too loose. If my trip weren't next week I'd consider exchanging, but the Jimmies are so comfortable that I'm not looking back.

And kudos to DSW, from whom I've never purchased: they shipped everything quickly and packaged it beautifully. When it came time to return one of the pairs of boots that didn't work out for me, they made it really simple: there was a DHL label enclosed, and best of all, you can schedule a pick-up from your home free of charge. That's so lazy -- I love it!

But to answer your question, I have sometimes been taking the kids to the beach (see above). I think part of the reason I don't remember much is that nothing really happens to me anymore. Does going to the grocery store happen to you? Does being tired all the time count as happening? Anyway, I've also gone to Legoland recently, but I'll write about that another time.

San Francisco and the DNC

Did you happen to watch the first night of the Democratic National Convention? I'm not super interested in politics, and even less interested in discussing them, but -- wow. Since when did the DNC become as effective a tear-jerker as a chick flick? I was teary when Jimmy Carter was interviewed. I was teary during the Ted Kennedy tribute video (and when Maria Shriver was teary). I was teary during the Michelle Obama video, her brother Craig's introduction, and I outright bawled when Michelle Obama gave her speech. What an awesome woman! Anyway, whatever your political leanings, the Dems put on a great show. Afterward, a commentator said he felt Michelle Obama missed an opportunity -- this was her chance to describe what Barack was like at home, and what he was like as a regular guy. Frankly, I don't really care. I mean, I'm happy that he seems to be a decent guy, but I'm not going to be living with him. I'm more interested in what his plans are for the country, his approach to solving problems and his ability to execute. But enough about politics -- on to the important stuff: food!



So I spent the weekend in San Francisco, and WOW and double wow! Let me just begin by telling you how depressing it is to have to leave a place where the food court fare is of equal or higher quality than the priciest restaurants in San Diego. I went to the food court at the Westfield in Union Square (I think they call it "Restaurants under the dome" or something like that, but it's really a food court). I cannot even begin to describe how awesome it was. I don't even like to use the word awesome. But here are a few pictures. Look closely. Remember, this is a food court at a mall.





















My husband got a delicious moules meuniere and the kids and I had Thai food. Speaking of Thai food, we also stumbled upon King of Thai Noodle House, in Union Square at Powell and O'Farrell. It's been a long time since I've had good Thai, so I was really really excited to have extraordinary Thai. I had the Pad See Ew, and it was exactly what I wanted, cooked to perfection. It's a no-nonsense kind of place -- like the good Chinese restaurants with the bad decor -- but you know it's good if it's packed with Chinese people. Anyway, this was the best Thai I've had in a looong time. King of Thai indeed! Apparently it is also the first Thai restaurant in San Francisco. That might just be restaurant propaganda though.



We also went to Pizzeria Delfina in the Mission District for the most amazing pizza (I've lived in NYC and had NY pizza; Chicago with Chicago pizza and New Haven with Sally's and Pepe's -- but I think this is the best pie ever). I had a prosciutto and arugula pizza which defied expectations. It inspired me to make a potato salad at home with argulua -- potatoes, extra virgin olive oil, fried bread crumbs and arugula -- yum!


Another highlight was Katana-Ya, a Japanese restaurant on Geary. The chef there is a ramen master -- apparently real ramen requires years of training to produce the ultimate ramen noodle -- and it didn't disappoint. I had the ramen in miso soup with the fried chicken pieces and wanted more.


Ok, back to the Mission District. We wolfed down an ice cream while we were there, at the Bi-Rite Creamery, a wonderful place where you get two scoops of ice cream when you order a single. The flavors are as funky as the Mission District, with Balsamic Strawberry and Salted Caramel being my favorite. And the ice cream is creamy. There's a long line.


You will be shocked to discover that with all this eating and my sedentary lifestyle I am very out of shape. I am so out of shape that my abs and thighs hurt after walking around the city in order to eat.


I also hit the only place in the world where the dollar isn't weak , H&M. I went to Zara as well, where I scored a trench for $25! One of the world's greatest mysteries is why every city doesn't have an H&M and Zara.

Hip Hop + Disneyland = Bad Idea

So I did end up taking a day off from blogging after my first hip hop class, because literally every part of my body hurt. It wasn't the normal kind of exercise soreness -- it was the type of soreness caused by extreme stress on muscles that have never before ever been used. I am not genetically predisposed to do hip hop. I probably don't even have the muscles that are required to do it successfully. But my neck -- after an hour of trying to alternate between snake-like and robot-like moves -- was killing me the next day. Only, not right away.

You see, long ago, in a galaxy far away, before I had even made hip hop plans, I decided that the best time to take the kids to Disneyland would be 1) off-season, and 2) in the middle of the week. I mean, who can take their kids to Disneyland on a Wednesday in October? Apparently, millions of people. By the time I got there the lot was packed. And here is important Disney tip #1: do not bring a large double- jog stroller that does not fold up. Contrary to my assumption that a place like Disney would have wild accommodations for handicapped people and people with children (people handicapped by children?), the trams that take you from the parking lot to the theme park only have two rows that accommodate said passengers. So on the way in, I waited til 6 trams passed before I could get onto one that had space for me. On the way back, it was worse -- it took me an hour to get on a tram because handicapped people had first priority -- so every time I was at the front of the line, a handicapped person would appear and get ushered on. The "handicapped by children" people are screwed.

So I finally got to the theme park, at which point important Disney tip #2 kicks in: do not go to Disneyland after your first hip hop class because the stiffness will kick in at exactly 10 AM when Disneyland opens and you realize you have 12 hours ahead of you pushing 60 pounds of people around a giant theme park. I was feeling totally fine until 10 AM, when I suddenly became an octagenarian and groaned my way around the park.

As luck would have it, I then stumbled upon important Disney tip #3: check that there isn't anything wrong with your stroller before leaving the parking lot. Yup, my stroller broke. I was 5 minutes into Fantasyland and I groaned my way down to the ground to assess the damage. Should I abandon the stroller and attempt to walk the kids around? Should I scream for help? After about 15 minutes of sheer determination I was miraculously able, with my hands as my only tools, repair the stroller. I will now fast-forward past all the whining, crying and saying that they have to pee after finally getting to the front of a long line, to the part where my girls met Ariel the Little Mermaid. My 2-year-old rightfully asked, "Why do you still have fins?" (She's right -- Ariel's supposed to be a human now.) We also stood in line for over an hour to meet some other princesses, and they turned out to be the B-list (Belle, Pocahontas and Jasmine). Bummed out by this, my 2-year-old asked Jasmine where Cinderella was. I'm sure Jasmine was annoyed. I bet she hates those A-list princesses.

Anyway, add to that the traffic on the way back (add an extra hour on for that, actually) and I will summarize that I never want to do that again anytime soon.