pizza & beer @ Pizza Port, Carlsbad: doing dinner the American way

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It’s Saturday morning here in Los Angeles and once again, I’m blogging from my hotel room. It’s my last day on work-cation and I’m going out with a bang ~ the one truly scrumptious junk food addiction, KyoChon Fried Chicken (the other KFC).

Doing it the American way, I’ve been indulging in the not-so-healthy gourmet delights of this vast country over the last week. I had the obligatory In-N–Out Burger (which is every bit as simple and tantalising as I expected) and will have KFC today, but before either of these, there was Pizza Port.

Me and pizza and beer for dinner. Can you just imagine.

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corporately wined & dined @ Market Restaurant, Del Mar: blogging on work-cation

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There are only really three things I want to say in this post:

1) I must seriously love you guys. Either that or I’m a complete blog nerd with no life because here I am, on a work-cation and again, I’m blogging from my hotel room. Say it with me now, de-di-ca-tion. Yeh.

2) The photos in this post are blurry. It wasn’t because the light was bad. We did have fairly dim mood lighting, but I’ve shot far better in far worse conditions. There’s no excuse really, the reason the photos are blurry is because I downed a spiced pear martini minutes before the food was served and Cadbury kid me, my heart was thumping so wildly I struggled to hold the camera, let alone hold it still. Apologiez.

3) I love being corporate-ly wined and dined.

Indeed I do.

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the snowy streets of Chamonix: dining (and skiing) in the French Alps

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Somehow, some how, we made it to Chamonix last week. After spending a gruelling 16 hours at Gatwick Airport due to flight delays (I think I topped up my frequent flyer points from the number of loo visits I made) and then being cancelled again at the end of the 16 hours, we somehow managed to make our way to Stansted Airport, and then to Chamonix, albeit 27 hours later than planned.

We were all cranky and tired and quite possibly very smelly, but arriving in Chamonix was like one of those lightbulb moments. Not so much like we had a great idea, because believe me, our brains were not thinking, but more like ah-haaaaah… ahhhhhhhh (that’s the glorious sound of me realising something).

The wondrousness of the place, the snow capped mountains and seemingly endless runs of white powder ~ it is seriously mesmerising and a natural upper like you can’t imagine. After the 27 hour commute, we arrived and literally picked up our skis and hit the slopes straight away.

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Luxembourg: three days, no sleep, lots of work but I did eat!

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So, I don’t talk about my “work” very much, because we all know what happens when you talk about your work. Yes, that’s right, you get dooced, you then call yourself dooce, and you make millions of bucks out of blogging the conundrums of OH MY GOD only the coolest life in the world. I mean, a hubby who looks like an older, cuddlier version of Aidan from SATC, two awesome dogs, a gorgeous daughter and hands down the cutest baby on the planet.

No, I don’t want to talk about my work at all.

Or do I?

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city of angels, city of food: the best of LA eating

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Sprinkles cupcakes; sweet potato chips from 25 Degrees, Roosevelt Hotel; Kyochon fried chicken; Umami burger

Los Angeles, the City of Angels. More appropriately (for me anyway), it was the City of Food, or rather, of amazing burgers, cupcakes and fried chicken. Love. Over the course of four days, we ate at a dozen supertacular places, but in light of keeping this post to a read-able length, I’m going to do some culling (wow this is hard, you realise this is like me culling my children) and touch on the best of LA eating.

[Note: I woke up this morning thinking about KyoChon fried chicken, hence I finally got my butt into gear to do this post]

So here goes, and in no particular order…

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a very small catty in a very Grand Canyon

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grand canyon 01

The Grand Canyon. Ze Grande Canyone. You know what, if Starbucks had its way, this would be called the Venti Canyon, because yes it’s the absolute equivalent of a two litre coffee. It’s so mammoth that you don’t really believe someone’s actually drinking that, are they insane? Do they realise the number of hairs they’ll pull out from fidgeting and the carpet which will be worn thin by the constant pacing?! Clearly not. And unless you can handle your shit, don’t order it because those who can’t *coughguywhositsrightnearmecough*, coffee buzzes are so not cool to the people around you.

But anyway, vented (ah, hah, vented the venti, I am so not funny).

Now, the Grand Canyon. Without doubt the absolute highlight of my little American sojourn, and my only regret is that we weren’t able to spend more time down in the gaping big hole, contemplating life and our seriously insignifcant contribution towards this magnificent world of ours.

Law enforced by the Native Americans mandate that we (terrible folk  who are destroying the natural beauty one gravel at a time) can only touch down for 30 minutes, and so we touch, we click-click-click away and we’re off. It’s that fast, but wait! This being the tour that I joined, we also had lunch inside the Grand Canyon. I mean, what’s life without food, right? High five!

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