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Extreme, Exotic India

November 13, 2015 10:31 am , hbludman

I am on a virtual trip to India

… thanks to my daughter Laurie, who is sharing her travelogue, which I will share with you today. Thank you, Laurie, for guest posting.

Friends and family warned me that I would both love and hate India. I even read the acronym “I’d Never Do It Again”.

India is chaotic and calm, flawed and fascinating, complex and simplistic. It’s everything at once, which makes it difficult to explain my experience in a coherent fashion.

I’ll be meditative in a garden one moment, and swarmed for selfies with smiling babies and soldiers the next. Crossing the street is an art form in itself. I wish I could say this happened, then this happened, etc. but that’s not how it works here. Things that Westerners are used to, like lights, cars, heat and WiFi, can not be relied on to always work.

In contrast, society works; people, families and communities work together.

All cultures and religions are welcomed and accepted. Hindus, Muslims, Christians, Jains, Sikhs, Buddhists, and Jews live in harmony and happiness. The differences are not only tolerated but celebrated. Cows, water buffalo, pigs, dogs, monkeys (!!!), tuk tuks, motor bikes, cars, buses, trucks, and people share the street. Their heritage is part of their culture and it is vibrant.

cow selfie

I’ve had sensory overload with pungently aromatic smells of chili peppers in the local spice markets, sweet and savory tastes of masala chai, Laal Mans and Kadi Pakoda, and haunting sounds of jackals howling in the desert.

I’m just going to provide my perspective and hope I don’t offend anyone. I’ve only been here two weeks so my opinion should be taken with a grain of salt.

Grand Palace, Udaipur

India is extreme in every sense of the word. Beautiful, hectic, kind, warm, colorful, diverse, friendly, expressive, corrupt, poverty-stricken, lush and more welcoming than any place I’ve been. I attended an evening service at the Jagdish Temple in Udaipur. Next to the Ranakpur temple, which is truly the most extraordinary display of architecture I will probably ever see, the Kamasutra carvings inside were captivating.

Jain temple outside Udaipur

It boggles my mind that hundreds of years ago, India was so open about sex and now, gay marriage isn’t legal and many public schools don’t offer sex-ed. This is slowly changing but it makes me grateful for my liberal upbringing at Friends’ Central School.

Arriving in India

I’d been awake 40 hours when I arrived in Delhi. I met a new travel buddy, Arielle, who assured me that she had already gotten a lay of the land, felt totally comfortable exploring with me, and knew where we should go. She didn’t. We got lost immediately. It was pathetic and predictable. We bonded that day and stayed roomies ever since.

Amer fort

There are days I feel like giving up when nothing is working. When a jeep breaks down, we’re told it’s actually a push cart, which means we need to get out and push it, like it was never meant to run properly in the first place. There are so many things that make me want to laugh and cry. India is crazy and there is no place like it.

The sleeper train from Ahmedabad to Mumbai started off pretty well. I got the top bunk and it felt like camp. The ride was supposed to take 8-9 hours and ended up taking 17 hours. No announcement, and no exaggeration. Thankfully, the British girls I’ve been traveling with are a great source of comic relief and the countryside is so beautiful. I’m envious of the monkeys who get to swing through the banyan trees all day.

Taj Mahal

My guide, Abhi, grew up in Jaipur, my favorite city of all, and is one of the kindest, most genuine, humble and patient people I’ve ever met. We kill time on long train and bus rides discussing our different cultures and families. He helped me understand his beliefs and caste system, how to play cricket (he was team captain at university), and how to fly a kite properly.

Hindu principles encourage a pure lifestyle of thoughtfulness, purpose, respect, honor, and fulfillment. People don’t need money to be happy. Conversely, money is seen as excess and a deterrent to following one’s true path and spiritual journey to happiness, enlightenment and ultimate salvation.

External factors cannot make a person happy. While I couldn’t be prouder of or more thankful for my heritage, there are aspects of the Hindu and Budhist belief systems that I can adopt and be a better person. I’m impatient (when hungry, so, always) and neurotic, while Indians are chill and level-headed. They believe in karma and reincarnation. So if things aren’t working out in this life, they have 6 more to look forward to. An overarching theme here is simple living and high thinking.

There are days that are so special, I forgive India for being so crazy. Despite obvious flaws, the truth is in the details and they should be experienced by everyone. I haven’t changed but my perspective has shifted.

Ranakpur temple

I watched the sun rise in Pushkar and set at the Taj Mahal. I played with first graders in Tordi, and partied on sand dunes in the desert. I wandered the narrow passage ways in Kumbhargahl Fort, hiked up to Brahma Temple, and unknowingly strolled down The Silk Road. I felt frustrated in Dehli and fell in love with Jaipur. I found my long lost monkey tribe in the mountains outside Udaipur.

sunset in Goa

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Posted in: travel , Tagged: camels, Delhi, Goa, Hindu, India, Jaipur, Pushkar, Taj Mahal, travel

Why I Will Fly Virgin Atlantic Again

August 1, 2014 11:08 am , hbludman

Can you remember when airline travel was considered glamorous?

Not that old? Well, let me tell you.

When I think about travel back in its heyday, when I was a young girl, I just have to laugh.

One Christmas vacation, my parents took my brother and me to Disney World. We were so excited. Not just because we would see Mickey and Minnie – we were going to be on an airplane. What a treat!

I remember standing in front of my closet, debating which dress would be appropriate for the flight. With my mother’s help, I picked out my favorite yellow jumper, my black patent leather shoes, and my nylons, of course. And to accessorize, my little black patent leather purse. Hey, look at me!

Once at the airport, we sailed in (with no security to go through) and walked outside the terminal to board the plane. Then it was up the steps and into the cabin, where the smiling, handsome pilot greeted everyone. He would invite my brother to come in to the cockpit and sit in the captain’s seat, and then hand him one of those TWA wings or some such to pin on his jacket. The stewardesses would engage with us kids right away and offer my parents a magazine or newspaper. My mother often asked for a deck of cards so she could play Solitaire or challenge us to Gin Rummy. Settled in our sumptuous seats, we would have a drink or a snack in hand before the plane left the tarmac.

This was coach, mind you.

Can you even imagine?

Now it seems every time I board a plane the seats are more narrow and uncomfortable. The food is meager and ~~disgusting~~ unappetizing. The experience is more odious than getting a tooth pulled.

But not so with Virgin Atlantic.

I was pleasantly surprised when I flew Virgin Atlantic for the very first time. And no, I am not being compensated for this post. This is strictly my opinion.

In fact, I liked it so much that even though it requires that I depart from an airport an hour and a half from my home, I will gladly make that sacrifice again.

Here is why.

In my book, nice counts for a lot.

Everyone I had contact with, whether it was the woman at Virgin Atlantic check-in who wished me a good trip to the pilot to the helpful flight attendants, was courteous and friendly. Much more than what I’ve experienced elsewhere.

Roominess

The cabin was not packed. Maybe that was just a lucky break, but refreshing nonetheless. The person sitting across the aisle from me had four seats to herself, lucky duck.

Settling in

You get a pillow, a blanket and … a Feel Good Kit! With a toothbrush, pen, booties, eye mask and earplugs.

A menu

OK, it’s not like you can order from a list of options. But it’s a nice touch to see what’s for dinner before it comes.

The food is not bad. Not bad at all.

The food is definitely better than most. I’m not going to lie and tell you it was gourmet. But for airplane food, a cut above the competition. Also, on the transatlantic flights I took, they fed us constantly.

Passing the time

Entertainment options on your personal screen are numerous enough to occupy yourself or your children for a long time. There were two children sitting next to me who were engrossed in movies for the entire trip.

Seating

The seats? Not great, but slightly better than the competition. I will say that although I did not get the window seat I prefer, I managed to sleep okay with the neck pillow I brought with me.

Flying will never have the cachet it used to be. But compared to British Airways, US Air and Air Canada – the other airlines I have tried when crossing the pond – Virgin Atlantic is the best I’ve found.

And I’ll be back.

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Posted in: travel , Tagged: flight, flying, Heathrow, London, Newark Airport, travel, Virgin Atlantic

Downton Abbey at Winterthur Museum

June 23, 2014 1:12 pm , hbludman

If you’re like me — shamelessly obsessed with PBS’s Downton Abbey — you have followed the saga of the Crowley family from Season One, Episode One and suffer serious withdrawal during the hiatus.

Are you bereft when the too-short seasons end? Do you search for a replacement in that Sunday night time slot and come up short? Have you been known to absently hum the Downton Abbey theme? Are you counting the days until Season Five debuts?

Me too.

If you’re impatient — like me –and need a Downton Abbey fix NOW, I’ve got the answer.

Downton Abbey at Winterthur Museum

Winterthur Museum, located in Delaware, is exhibiting the Costumes of Downton Abbey until January 2015. If you live in the northeast USA, or are planning a visit, you’re in luck. it’s just a hop, skip and a jump from New York, Philadelphia, Baltimore and DC.

It took under an hour to drive my three equally besotted Downton Abbey friends to the museum from my home outside Philadelphia.

Just off a main thoroughfare, the museum’s entrance takes you down a winding road with rolling hills of verdant farmland all around. Once inside the Visitor’s Center, you can hop on a tram that winds through the glorious grounds to take you to the Downton Abbey exhibit.

A Visual Feast

Oh my. The actual costumes close up are even more magnificent than on the screen. Each one is featured next to the scene in the show in which it appeared, so you can see up close how truly fabulous and intricate those costumes are.

It’s fun to see the costumes up close, and those of us who are truly obsessed will recognize them right away.

Scattered about are some of the humorous quotes from the show. Remember Violet’s famous line, “What is a weekend?”

And the many barbs Mrs. Patmore peppered poor Daisy with? Reading those lines will make you chuckle – and also appreciate even more the brilliant writing on the show.

Some of the costumes are positioned next to actual footage from the show. The final scene in Season Two, when Matthew proposed to Mary, with the snow falling all around? So romantic, so tragic (it turns out). I confess that I stood in front of this video for an inordinately long time, watching the scene over and over.

But don’t leave yet.

After you’ve gotten your Downton Abbey fix, stick around, because there is so much more to see at Winterthur.

Located on 1,000 acres of tree-lined paths, beautiful architecture and lush gardens, Winterthur (pronounced “Winter-tour”) was founded by Henry Franics du Pont (1880-1969) who lived here with his family. He always wanted to share his art and gardens with the public, so in his later years, he and his wife moved to a smaller home on the grounds and allowed the main residence to be turned into a museum.

Mr. du Pont wrote at that time,

I sincerely hope that the Museum will be a continuing source of inspiration and education for all time, and that the gardens and grounds will of themselves be a country place museum where visitors may enjoy as I have, not only the flowers, trees and shrubs, but also the sunlit meadows, shady wood paths, and the peace and great calm of a country place which has been loved and taken care of for three generations.

How lucky we are to benefit from his largesse.

You’ll want to save time for a tour of the mansion, because it is truly spectacular. Mr. duPont was an avid art and furniture collector, and the 175-room mansion is resplendent with gorgeous antiques, rugs and special touches that only someone like a du Pont can implement or acquire. For example, he was known to import Oriental wallpaper and reconstruct the size of a room to accommodate it.

He was also a visionary gardener, and created a 60-acre “naturalistic” garden that is just breathtaking. If you take the tram ride from the Visitor’s Center to the museum, the guide will tell you fascinating things about the making of this garden and the varieties of plantings all around. Families with young children must make a stop at the Enchanted Woods, truly a fantastic and magical place for kids to explore.

Before we left, my friends and I made a stop at the Campbell Soup’s Campbell Collection of Soup Tureens right there on the premises. The antique tureens are among the treasures Mr. du Pont collected.

You can imagine one of the 30 Winterthur house staff polishing the fine silver, perhaps just as diligently as did the housemaids of Downton Abbey.

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Posted in: travel , Tagged: Costume, Delaware, Downton Abbey, PBS, Philadelphia, Winterthur, Winterthur Museum and Country Estate

Wordless Wednesday: London Street Art

June 4, 2014 12:12 pm , hbludman

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Posted in: travel , Tagged: art, Banksy, London, Shoreditch, street art, travel

The Spring Break I’d Like to Forget but Can’t

April 10, 2014 8:33 am , hbludman

My children are beyond the spring break stage, but the photos on Facebook of happy parents reuniting with their sons and daughters studying abroad take me back a few years when our youngest daughter, Laurie, spent a glorious semester in Paris.

When she wasn’t in class, she hopped on the Métro and visited museums, discovered the best macarons in St. Germain, strolled on the Rive Gauche and sipped coffee at outdoor cafes. She took a wine-tasting course and was proud when she was able to identify wines from different regions of France. Dining out was an adventure, too. She sampled Coquille St. Jacques for the first time and discovered the delectable Croque Monsieur (the French version of a grilled cheese sandwich). Her ability to converse in French grew stronger every day.

On weekends, she and her friends would hop on a train or plane to other European destinations. They visited Brussels, Madrid, London, Prague, Amsterdam and Switzerland where she … gulp … went skydiving. She didn’t tell me about this until it was over.

Laurie couldn’t wait to play tour guide when my husband and I joined her for spring break. But just two weeks before our trip we got a call from her that filled my heart with dread.

Her neck had felt stiff and sore for about five days, she told me. Thinking it was just a muscle pull, she had pushed through the week, attending classes but falling into bed in exhaustion at the end of the day.

I begged her to tell her program coordinator, Alexandra, who referred her to a free health clinic. Laurie dragged herself there. But the line was long and she was dizzy so she went back to her apartment. Her neck was swollen and painful and all she wanted to do was sleep.

Totally panicked, I contacted Alexandra myself and told her this was a serious situation and I needed her to get involved right away. Alexandra agreed to take Laurie to the doctor herself but Monday morning was the first available appointment. I waited by the phone, biting my nails.

After what seemed like days rather than hours, Alexandra called to say that the doctor wanted Laurie admitted to the hospital for tests. He thought she had an infection but did not have a definitive diagnosis. Alexandra promised to stay at the hospital.

With mounting panic, I realized there was no way I could stay home and get this information second-hand. I needed to be with my daughter and decided to get on the next flight to Paris with my older daughter, Emily, who insisted on accompanying me. We hurriedly threw some clothes in a suitcase and were ready to go to the airport. While waiting for Emily in the car, I absently flipped through my passport.

The unthinkable happened even before we left.

No. No, no, no. This can’t be.

My passport had expired.

How had I not known this? We were supposed to leave in two weeks and I hadn’t checked to see if my passport was still valid? What was wrong with me? Now what?

Inside I was disintegrating, but I had to keep calm to figure out what to do. I don’t remember who I talked to — maybe someone at the airline? –but I found out that there is a way to renew an expired passport on an emergency basis.. Emily and I drove to the Philadelphia Passport Agency, our suitcases in the car, praying for a miracle.

After a full day of long lines and lots of waiting, I was issued a new passport.With barely enough time to get to the airport, we managed to make the flight to Paris. We arrived at 6 the next morning, grabbed a taxi and arrived at the massive Pitié-Salpêtrière Hospital where we found our girl, flushed with fever but so relieved to see us. She perked up long enough to tell us this was the hospital where Princess Diana had died.

One hour later, she was taken into surgery. A cyst in her neck that had become infected was successfully drained and removed, with several stitches to show for it.

The spring break that wasn’t.

Laurie recovered completely after a week in the hospital and a week of rest and room service at the hotel with me. We were even able to salvage part of our vacation when my husband and son joined us for a long weekend (although sadly, Emily had left by this time).

: Finally able to go out for a bite.

: Out to dinner and feeling good.

: Sister-brother shenanigans.

Laurie refused to let this setback slow her down. Before the semester ended, she and her friends visited Barcelona and Ibiza. She met up with her brother for a weekend in Istanbul.

After much angst, a happy ending.

Laurie came home with wonderful memories of Paris. The only lasting after-effect of her illness was a tiny scar that has faded over time, a souvenir of an unexpected adventure that did not diminish her enthusiasm for travel one bit.

We vow that that someday we will all go back to Paris together and this time, do it right.

Laurie (right) and room mate on the balcony of their apartment.

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Posted in: parenting, travel , Tagged: college students, Croque Monsieur, France, Paris, Pitié-Salpêtrière Hospital, Rive Gauche, semester abroad, St. Germain, travel

When in New York, Visit Eataly

March 28, 2014 9:49 am , hbludman

I hesitate to say it. I don’t want to jinx things. But (whispering) I think spring is here.

No matter that sludgy clumps of snow still adorn our front yard. According to the calendar, spring has sprung. And I’m ready for a weekend getaway to celebrate.

I’m lucky to live in proximity of the fabulous New York City, always a desirable destination, but especially lovely in springtime.

New York, New York

You’ve heard of April in Paris, yes? Well, April in New York is just as jolie. The days are longer and warmer and tourist season is not yet underway, so the hustle and bustle hovers at a moderate level, at least per New York standards.

Traipsing the streets is so much more fun when you don’t have to dodge mountains of snow and ice. Central Park, resplendent in daffodils and dogwood blossoms, is filled with young families pushing strollers and couples walking hand in hand..

With so much going on in the Big Apple, it is best to make plans in advance but save some wiggle room for last minute spontaneity. Whether your interests lie in sightseeing, shopping, theater, sports or a combination thereof, planning your visit is key. To get you started, here are some ideas. On a budget? Did you know all the things there are to do in New York that are free?

Which brings me to one of them that is a favorite of mine.

Eataly

Eataly is a dazzling food emporium in New York’s Flatiron neighborhood. It has the feel of a bustling, open-air Italian market; it just happens to be inside. Take a walk through this huge hall where purveyors display the most delectable pastas, cheeses, fish, meats, produce, breads, desserts and more. Be prepared for sensory overload.

You could drop a chunk of change here, don’t get my wrong. The seductive aromas of so much deliciousness could just lure that wallet right out of your pocket or purse. Plus, if you want to spend money on a meal, there are several restaurants to choose from.

But walking and gawking? Totally free. Amble up and down the aisles and marvel over the stunningly arranged items the purveyors have on display. If you’re lucky, there could be a freebie or two to nibble on.

As renowned food cognoscenti, Eataly partners and gastronomes Joe Bastianich, Lidia Bastianich and Mario Batali have among them dozens of beloved restaurants, cooking shows and cookbooks. Their unbridled passion for good eating, good drinking and savoring life is reflected in every aisle, every corner of Eataly.

As they say on Eataly’s website,

The Secret to Quality of Life? Quality Products.

By creating and offering the best products, we improve our own lives, and bring added value to yours. Enter a world dedicated to quality: that means quality food, quality drink and ultimately quality time.

Feast your eyes on this visual extravaganza, artistic in its panoply of colors and textures, a celebration of all that’s good about eating and enjoying the best that life has to offer.

Located just off Fifth Avenue between 23rd and 24th Street in the Flatiron neighborhood, Eataly is a foodie’s mecca but a fun destination for anyone.

I was not hired to write this review and was not compensated for it. It is my personal opinion.

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Posted in: travel , Tagged: Eataly, Joe Bastianich, Lidia Bastianich, Mario Batali, New York City, Turin

Dreaming of California Weather

February 19, 2014 1:29 pm , hbludman

As a pale and winter-weary East Coaster who escaped the latest snowpocalypse by just one day, I felt like I had landed in Shangri-la when I stepped off the plane in San Diego last week.

My oversize suitcase and I shuffled past the baggage claim carousels and through the sliding glass doors. Outside, I gasped. I felt like Dorothy opening the door of her house after it had landed in the technicolor Land of Oz.

My friend Lois, who picked me up, probably thought I was a little wacko as I waxed poetic over the palm trees while stripping off layers of sweaters. “You can’t imagine what it’s like back home,” I babbled as Lois nodded politely.

A Different World.

Ahh, California. The Land of Sunshine and Up Talk. Where orange is pronounced aw-range and every sentence is a question. Where people shiver if the temperature drops below 60 degrees.

Given the numbing cold we’ve had this season, it was the best winter ever for an East Coaster to visit California. Every day was a golden, sun-dappled gift.

I texted my family. “We need to move here. Who’s in?” I got four little thumbs up icons in response.

The week ended too soon. As I flew home to reality, I contemplated the ways a temperate climate affects human behavior. Here are some of my observations.

Californians are not fixated on the weather forecast.

Here in the East, the weather forecast rules our lives. I watch it on morning TV, sometimes at noon and definitely at night. I switch on our news and weather radio station when I’m driving the car. The weather forecast governs my agenda, my plans for the week and my emotional status.

It also provides an excellent foray to small talk when you’re standing in line buying your milk and bread. In the summer we’ve got “How ’bout those Phillies?’ In the winter, it’s “How many days were you out of power?’

I don’t mean to minimize the weather issues Californians face: earthquakes, fires and mud slides, all terrible. But for the most part, it is blue skies and sunshine. Every day.

No one listens to the forecast in California. It’s not necessary. Chances are excellent that the weather will be some kind of fabulous every day.

Meteorologists just might be superfluous.

Sorry, California weather people, but you’ve got the cushiest job ever? I mean, like, ever? Just look out the window?

East Coast meteorologists have to be on their toes. What with the weather maps to draw arrows on, the Nor’Easters from the south and the Polar Vortexes from the north, they’ve got their hands full. And just let them miscall a storm. That frays our collective nerves like you can’t imagine.

Just listening to the five-day forecast can be traumatic.

“Sleet and freezing rain, followed by snow and back to freezing rain, with temperatures dipping into the single digits by tonight. Predicted snowfall could be a few inches or up to a foot, depending on the track of the storm. Icy conditions will make driving hazardous. And we’re watching another system headed our way.”

In California, you’ve got something like this.

“We’ve got a sunny day on tap here in the valley, followed by sunshine tomorrow and Wednesday. Thursday, look for sunshine that should last through Friday. The weekend is looking good, with sunshine likely both days.

Californians are really, really nice.

Here in the East, we are snotty, aloof and sometimes outright hostile. In California it seems that everyone woke up on the right side of the bed and is having an awesome day. Plus, they want to make sure your day is awesome. So they might tell you more than once to have a good day.

Bus drivers. Restaurant workers. Airline personnel. They’re all so damn cheerful.

Here on the East Coast, crankiness is the norm. I didn’t come across a cranky Californian my entire stay.

I concluded that this all makes perfect sense. What’s there to kvetch about when a good portion of your state looks like this.

photo credit; Evan Schiff

Or this.

photo credit: Evan Schiff

And this is what I came home to.

I am dreaming of you, California. I can’t wait to come back.

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Posted in: travel , Tagged: California, California weather, Earth Sciences, east coast, east coast weather, Weather, Weather forecasting, west coast

How to Celebrate an Anniversary in Philadelphia

October 8, 2013 9:29 am , hbludman

Disclaimer: I was not compensated in any way by the Ritz Carlton, Zama or The Barnes Foundation for this post. All opinions are my own.

Knowing us, I doubt my husband and I would have ever thought to treat ourselves to a night at a fancy five-star hotel in downtown Philadelphia. After all, we live only half an hour away. It would have seemed frivolous. Unnecessary. Why bother?

It turns out that our children were the wiser ones in this case when they decided to give us a weekend package — a night at The Ritz Carlton Hotel, breakfast the next morning, and tickets to the fabulous Barnes Foundation — as our birthday gift.

But since our birthdays were in the spring and we had weekend commitments in the summer, we opted to wait until last weekend for our special getaway, especially since it was also our anniversary weekend. It would be a double celebration.

Saturday, 4 p.m.

As we walked through the Ritz Carlton’s grand lobby to the check-in desk, we were greeted by many smiling hotel staff members ready and anxious to assist. Would I like a glass of champagne, one asked as she came over carrying a silver tray with flutes? Why yes, I would.

After dropping off our suitcase in our sumptuous deluxe hotel room, we decided to catch an early showing of “Blue Jasmine” at one of our favorite movie theaters in Philadelphia. It was at this very theater that we had our second date so many years ago: “Chariots of Fire.” I liked it better than he did.

On the way, we passed by the exact spot where my husband and I first met one snowy January night. It was nostalgic, but how things have changed. What used to be the stately PNB Building is now a Walgreen’s.

It all began on this corner 31 years ago.

Saturday, 7:30 p.m.

Since the evening air was so delightfully balmy, we decided to stroll up lively Walnut Street, savoring the tantalizing aromas emanating from each restaurant along the way. Here is a view of City Hall from the corner of Broad and Walnut.

We had dinner at the trendy and fun Japanese restaurant, Zama. The sushi was to die for.

We were comfortably full and resisted dessert, figuring we could get something later if we really felt like it. We ambled by leafy Rittenhouse Square on the way back to the hotel, stopping at a Barnes and Noble to browse for a few minutes. The very first time we met, on that snowy January night, we talked about books. We really did.

Saturday, 10 p.m.

When we got to the room, look what was waiting for us: dessert! A chocolate chip birthday cake and chocolate candy from the hotel.

Sunday, 9 a.m.

One of us went on a six-mile run on the scenic Kelly Drive along the river and the other one read the newspaper and watched the Sunday morning pundits on TV. I bet you can guess who did what.

We enjoyed a leisurely breakfast before checking out of the hotel.

Sunday, 12 p.m.

The pièce de resistance of our special getaway was the visit to the incomparable Barnes Foundation. We spent several hours visually drinking in the beauty of this glorious collection of Impressionist art. I highly recommend adding the Barnes to your sightseeing plans if you visit Philadelphia.

Every minute of our 24-hour vacation was enjoyable and a fantastic way to celebrate a special occasion. We are so lucky to have such thoughtful children who picked the perfect gift for us.

As we drove home, we wondered why we don’t do this every year.

in front of the Barnes Museum

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Posted in: fun times, travel , Tagged: anniversary, anniversary in Philadelphia, Barnes Foundation, Rittenhouse Square, Ritz Carlton, Ritz Carlton Hotel, Walnut Street, weekend in Philadelphia, what to do in Philadelphia

My Transformational Vacation

July 15, 2013 12:02 pm , hbludman

The wonders of nature exploded in front of our eyes during a fabulous week in Big Sky, Montana with our daughter Emily.

Like true city slickers, we had to stop the car every time we saw wildlife moseying by the side of the road. Oohing and aahing, we grabbed our phones to capture a photo of bison, elk and moose.

Horseback riding in the mountains was ethereal. With the snow-capped mountains almost unreal in their majesty, we rode up rocky trails and through grassy meadows with gurgling streams to cross, breathing in the clean mountain air.

Yellowstone National Park was vast, wondrous, pristine. Picture miles and miles of open and untouched land where wildlife graze peacefully, where cliffs and waterfalls dot the landscape. Such magnificence just about takes your breath away.

We saw Old Faithful erupt. It happens every 90 minutes, and it is worth the wait. We hiked and swam and drank in the utter beauty of this amazing area of our country.

There ‘s a word in Hebrew, “dayenu.” Translation: it would have been enough.

Our wonderful week in Montana would have been enough. BUT …

On our last night, we saw The Beach Boys in concert.

And what a venue it was. The quaint mountain town of Big Sky surrounds a park-like area, where a stage was erected for the concert. The spectacular mountains frame this lovely spot.

Concert-goers entered the area and staked out their places on the lawn, some with blankets, some with portable chairs. Many of them looked to be my age – the age that knew The Beach Boys when they were still boys.

We found a good spot and sat down, enjoying the ambiance and excited for the concert to begin.

And then … there they were! They opened with “Do it Again.”

Magic!

Then “Little Honda” and “Catch a Wave.”

We sang and swayed.

My husband stood up and told us he’d be right back. He wanted to see if he could get closer to the stage.

Moments later he was back. “Come with me,” he said, grabbing my hand.

Still holding hands, we made our way to the front. And there we were, not more than six feet from the stage, with a group of die-hard fans grooving to the sounds of the Boys.

With the familiar music coursing through us and over us like the waves the Beach Boys sing of riding, we were transported to a time long ago, a time when music was life and life was music.

Song after song filled us with joy, and, the group of us old guys in front – wrinkles, thinning hair and all – began to dance with abandon and sing every word. Because we could.

“Don’t Worry Baby.” “Barbara Ann.” “Be True to Your School.”

A few drops fell as a storm cloud passed overhead. All of a sudden we were engulfed in a downpour. This is Woodstock redux, I thought.

I imagined we were at Woodstock.

“Sloop John B.” “Help me Rhonda.” “Dance Dance Dance.”

I knew I probably looked ridiculous, someone my age dancing gleefully in the rain. But when I glanced at the people around me, they were doing the same. As my hair frizzed and my clothes got wet, I was for a brief time that teenager who sang along every time she heard a Beach Boys song on her transistor radio, deliriously happy to be a part of a generation that in its innocence thought that these days would never end.

Here is a clip of my husband and me in front of the stage, taken by Emily. I am the one with the impossibly frizzy hair.

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Posted in: life as a boomer, travel , Tagged: Beach Boys, Big Sky, Big Sky Montana, Montana, nostalgia, Old Faithful, Yellowstone National Park

A Foray to the Four Seasons

November 10, 2011 5:38 pm , hbludman

I am not going to blog about what has happened to my beloved Penn State this week. There is a post to be written, but now is not the time. It is too soon, too raw, and sadly, the horrific stories continue to unfold. Let me just say that all of us who are members of the Penn State community are reeling with the awfulness and grieving for the victims and their families. There are a lot of red-rimmed eyes around my campus today.

For the few minutes it will take to write this post, I am going to pretend that it has been a week like any other, with one day routinely following another and filled with moments of ennui, episodes of fielding minor curve balls and sparks of unexpected pleasures.

One of these took place yesterday when my friend Alyse and I attended an event at the Four Seasons Hotel in Philadelphia to tour the kitchen facilities and observe a cooking demonstration. This was especially fun for us since Alyse and I once owned a catering business called Fete Accomplie when we were young with better backs. Fete Accomplie is no longer, but Alyse and I still love to cook.

We were met by the hotel’s sommelier who offered us a glass of wine, and then it was on to the kitchen.

Our first course was Autumn Mushroom Soup with Lancaster Goat Cheese Foam and Rosemary Oil. Yum!

Mushroom Soup

1 lb. button mushrooms
1 lb. shiitake mushrooms
1 lb. crimini mushrooms
Clean and slice all of them.
1 leek, washed and sliced
2 cloves garlic, chopped
3 sprigs thyme
2 T. butter
3 T. olive oil
1/2 c. white wine
1/2 gal. chicken stock
1 pint heavy cream
salt and pepper to taste

Heat large pot over medium high heat. Saute mushrooms in oil in three batches til golden brown. Remove.

Reduce heat to medium and saute leeks and garlic in butter until soft, about 5-7 minutes. Add wine and reduce by half. Add mushrooms back to pot and cover with stock. Add thyme and season with salt and pepper; simmer on low for 20 min. Add cream and continue to cook 10 more minutes. Remove thyme stems, puree, pass soup through sieve, and season to taste.

The chef put a dollop of goat cheese in the cup before pouring in the soup, and then drizzled it with rosemary oil.

Next up: Butternut Squash Risotto. The chef served this with a seared scallop on top. Delish.

Butternut Squash Risotto

5 c. chicken stock, at a simmer
1 c. Arborio rice
1/2 small onion, diced
2 c. diced butternut squash
4 T. olive oil
2 T. butter
1/4 c. white wine
1/4 c. grated Parmesan
salt and pepper to taste

In large pan, saute butternut squash in 2 T. olive oil over medium low heat til soft. Reserve. In large pot, sweat onion in 2 T. olive oil for 5 minutes over medium low heat. Add rice and cook 1 minute. Add wine and reduce til dry.

Add 1 c. stock and stir continuously til absorbed. Continue adding stock til all is absorbed and rice is tender. Add cooked butternut squash, cheese and butter. Add salt and pepper to taste.

Next up: Beef Shortribs, served atop a Parsnip Potato Puree.

Beef Shortribs

4 8oz. boneless beef shortribs
2 carrots, large dice
2 stalks celery, large dice
1 large onion, large dice
4 cloves garlic, chopped
4 sprigs thyme
1 c. red wine
1 quart beef stock
1 T. tomato paste
salt and pepper
3 T. olive oil
2 T. butter, softened
2 T. flour

Season meat liberally with salt and pepper. In large pot, sear ribs in olive oil til browned on all sides.Remove from pot. Add vegetables, garlic and thyme and cook for 10 minutes over medium heat. Add tomato paste and cook 2 minutes. Add red wine and reduce by half.

Add meat back to the pot and cover with beef stock. Cover pot and simmer on low heat for 2 1/2 – 3 hours til tender. Remove ribs and strain braising liquid into a sauce pot, skim off fat and reduce liquid by half.

Mix flour and butter til paste forms (beurre manie), whisk into braising liquid to thicken sauce, and simmer for 10 minutes.

Everything was so flavorful and the presentation was beautiful. On our way out of the kitchen, we passed by a few other stations. Here is a tray of mini pizzas topped with spinach, tomato and feta, just about to be popped in the oven.

And finally, on our way out, we were handed this sweet little bag of madeleines to eat on the way home.

It was a lovely way to spend an afternoon, and it couldn’t have come at a better time.

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Posted in: travel , Tagged: Butternut Squash Risotto

Category Archives: Travel

I am on a virtual trip to India

Arriving in India

But not so with Virgin Atlantic.

In my book, nice counts for a lot.

Roominess

Settling in

A menu

The food is not bad. Not bad at all.

Passing the time

Seating

Downton Abbey at Winterthur Museum

A Visual Feast

But don’t leave yet.

The unthinkable happened even before we left.

The spring break that wasn’t.

After much angst, a happy ending.

New York, New York

Eataly

A Different World.

Californians are not fixated on the weather forecast.

Meteorologists just might be superfluous.

Californians are really, really nice.

Saturday, 4 p.m.

Saturday, 7:30 p.m.

Saturday, 10 p.m.

Sunday, 9 a.m.

Sunday, 12 p.m.

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