Wednesday, September 5, 2018

Rancho Corral de Tierra

When getting to know a place, it's best to explore it for what it has to offer. So, while I may be a bit of a history nerd, in a place where the recorded timeline only spans the last few centuries, you can bet that's not its main attraction. Now that I'm back in the States, it's high time to embrace a bit more of the natural world. While I've been reticent to do too much exploring before Nicolas is able to join me, I'm always happy to jump on board when someone extends the invitation. This past weekend, I had the pleasure of exploring the Rancho Corral de Tierra with a sorority sister and her beau. The mist-laden hike was secluded and gave us some breath-taking views in the moments when we were able to see beyond the clouds. Feast your eyes on our Saturday afternoon.
Views from our hike in Rancho Corral de Tierra

Sunday, August 26, 2018

The other side of the Earth, without the distance

After a week spent together on the other side of the Earth (for me), we said goodbye in our usual fashion when airport security lines pulled us apart. Keeping a sense of humor is an essential survival mechanism for coping with the senseless long distance this year. I haven't been at all embittered to discover my own government casually forces married couples apart for a year or so while deciding whether its own citizens can be trusted in their choice of life partner, should said partner not carry the "right" passport. (Hint: there is only one "right" passport.)
Too many airport goodbyes for one year
A week has already flown past since our much anticipated reunion week in Bulgaria came to a close, though I've hardly felt it. Working in a fast-paced start-up and growing accustomed to the emptiness at home has left me with a certain numbness around this whole experience of immigration-enforced long-distance.

Before the goodbyes came our first uninterrupted seven-day stretch together in 2018. On Day 1, between the desperately-needed jetlag napping (I'd survived the 2 previous nights sans bed), after the requisite baguettes (when in Paris...), we sipped coffees in my old favorite haunt, we found Nicolas a new pair of glasses, we went shopping in the Marais, and Nicolas cooked me a baked camembert. It all felt fantastically normal, as if the past seven and a half months had all been one bad dream.
Enjoying life as a normal couple for a day back in Paris
We awoke on Day 2 to even better plans: one height-of-French-vacation-season fight through Charles de Gaulle Airport later, we were Bulgaria-bound, a destination we'd discussed since our very first date a little over four years ago. Before the day was out, we were dining on traditional Bulgarian cold cucumber yogurt soup and sipping cocktails in an outdoor lounge.
Thank goodness for macarons, even if they're just La Durée, when battling the August-vacationer crowds at the Charles de Gaulle Airport. By the day's end, we were happily dining on traditional Bulgarian cold cucumber yogurt soup and sipping cocktails in the heart of this Eastern European capital city.
Our alarm went off the next morning at around the time I'd start thinking about wrapping up my work day on California time. I'm still not sure how I survived the time change acrobatics of the week, but there wasn't much time for lounging: we had plans. Specifically, British Airways plans. We'd recently made an interesting discovery: miles won't just buy you (overpriced) flights but also day-trips in many destinations across the globe. Today, we plowed through old UK air miles to make our way Plovdiv and Koprivshtitsa.

Despite its population numbering only just shy of 350,000, Plovdiv is the second most populous city in Bulgaria, after Sofia. It's also slated to be one of the two European Capitals of Culture of 2019, alongside a small Italian city. Plovdiv has been inhabited for the past 8 millennia, which according to our tour guide makes it the oldest continually inhabited city in Europe. It's been under the rule of the Persians, Romans, and Ottomans, among other historical big hitters. The most charming part of the city is the Ancient Theater, purportedly the best preserved Roman amphitheater. A landslide in 1970 led to the rediscovery of the theater, which was subsequently restored and is now in such good condition that it's still used for outdoor performances in summer months.
Plovdiv. The Roman Ancient Theater is shown all the way to the right.
The next destination was Koprivshtitsa, a much smaller town with a population of just a few thousand. The city peaked during the Bulgarian National Revival period in the late 1800s, and it was the site of the failed April Uprising in 1876, just two years before Russia finally won the Bulgarians their independence from the Ottomans, under whose rule they had suffered for about five centuries. Koprivshtitsa is known for its charming, classical Bulgarian architecture, and is described as a museum-town. Many of the historical houses have been preserved and are open for tourists. The exteriors were all painted in vibrant colors (I was especially fond of the blue buildings), and the interiors were covered in ornate wooden carvings. I was surprised to see in the preserved historical décor and attire that, despite their resistance to the Ottomans, the locals had adopted certain traditions, like the low cushion seating, hookah, and certain touches in their fashion. Koprivshtitsa was a quick stop for a peek into Bulgaria's recent past.
Koprivshtitsa, the museum-town. Interiors pictured are from the Oslekov House.
Our first chance to sleep in came on Day 4. (This week was passing too fast.) But once we did finally roll out of bed, we devoted the day to an exploration of Bulgarian cuisine and their much more ancient past. Though Bulgaria might be easy to overlook in history class, it hardly falls short on history (and pre-history!). All the humans, and even pre-human hominids, who entered the European continent had to pass through this country, leaving pre-historical traces back through the Neolithic Age. And here in Bulgaria, history is a very much alive: there are active archeological digs scattered throughout the capital, Sofia. We took a couple of hours to check out the National Archeological Museum, and struggled to wrap our heads around just how old the things lying before us really were. Here's a smattering of my favorite artefacts:
Spotted at the Bulgarian National Archeological Museum. Top row: tombstone of a deaconess (538 AD), statue of Apollo (2nd-3rd century AD), entry to the Archeology Museum (above)/anthropomorphic vessel (below, late Neolithic: 2nd half of 6th millennium BC), a gold head wreath (4th century BC). Bottom row: Spearheads from the Middle Paleolithic (250,000 - 40,000 years ago), bronze spearheaded helmet (late Bronze Age, 16th-12th century BC), a zoomorphic figurine (Chalcolithic Age, 5th millennium BC), and a golden funeral mask (end of 5th century BC)
One of the pros of choosing such an affordable destination is that you can really live it up without breaking the bank. We spent the week ticking off all of TripAdvisor's top-rated restaurants, but we saved the best, Kosmos, for this evening. A couple of hours spent relaxing over a six-course gourmet traditionally-inspired tasting menu paired with a bottle of Bulgarian wine only set us back about $100.
Kosmos vegetarian tasting menu, where the overarching theme of this locally-inspired meal was "Wow, Bulgarians sure do love their cheeses." Top row: amuse-bouche creamy cheese puffs, then 1st course: Salad Shiila, composed of mixed salad, homemade buttermilk, caramelized yogurt, "Shiila" cucumber, and marinated goat cheese. Middle row: 2nd course: Green asparagus with Krokmach (liquid cheese made from sheep's milk), rye bread crisp, white asparagus ice cream,  truffle, hazelnut, and lemon thyme. This was probably my favorite course. Upper right: 3rd course: Eggs in Panagyuristhe style with sheep yogurt, krokmach, beurre noisette, smoked paprika, garlic chips, yogurt meringue, and cheese snow. Lower right: 4th course: Polenta with brynza, porcini, cream, tomato confit, and milk skin. Bottom row: 5th course: Dessert cloud of watermelon, fennel and mastika granite, cotton candy, watermelon rind, and bergamot. 6th course: "Banitza with boza." (Banitza is a light cheese pastry typicall served as a breakfast or a snack. Boza is a fermented, slightly alcoholic malt drink traditionally consumed with breakfast.) This dessert was served with cheese mousse, rose jam, "boza" sorbet, and crispy banitza. Rose is also a major produce item grown in Bulgaria. This dessert almost reminded me of a millefeuille. Mmm!
It was up and at 'em again the next morning as we continued to cash in our British Airways miles. This excursion, the Rila Lakes and Monastery, turned out to be the highlight of our time in Bulgaria. We began with the Seven Rila Lakes, a series of glacial lakes located in the Rila Mountains where, despite the hot summer sun, densely packed snow still filled the crevices between the mountain peaks. Here, I rode a ski lift for the very first time! The thrill of that clearly showed just how far my life is removed from roller coasters and amusement park rides. Our half day in the mountains gave us the chance to see the Babreka, Okoto, and Salzata lakes. And though we still powered through at a pretty respectable pace, my body was all too happy to remind me that I have most certainly not been training for this sort of a workout. The views were worth the effort, but that effort is still fresh in my memory a week and a half later.
Hiking around the Rila Lakes
The tour van then took us to a picturesque monastery nestled in between mist-covered mountains, a setting just ripe for an eery murder movie. The Rila Monastery is the largest Eastern Orthodox Monastery in Bulgaria, and has been recognized as a UNESCO World Heritage site since 1983. The monastery was built up around the dwelling of the hermit St. John of Rila. While the monastery was founded back in the 10th century, the current buildings only date back to the mid-1800s, when it was rebuilt following a fire. Like the architecture in Koprivshtitsa, this complex is also built in the Bulgarian Renaissance style, during the time when the Bulgarians were finally gaining independence and building up a national identity after centuries of rule by the Ottomans.
Rila Monastery
Day 6 marked our final day in Bulgaria, and was left open to hit up any major sites around Sofia that we had yet to explore. We finally wandered inside the Aleksander Nevski Cathedral before hitting up the Sofia History Museum, which inspired our subsequent visits to the Sofia Synagogue, the third largest synagogue in Europe, as well as to the St. Sofia Church, a decidedly underwhelming church built in the 4th century, after which this city got its current name during the 14th century.
Sofia! Top left: Banya Bashi Mosque. Below: the Sofia History Museum. Next: Aleksander Nevski Cathedral (exterior and interior). Next: Décor inside Kanaal, a cool craft brew bar in Sofia recommended to us by our Airbnb host Hristo. Below: a very Soviet-looking sculpture from the gardens behind the Ethnographic Museum. Next: glasses of rakia, the national drink, basically brandy. My favorite was the Burgas 63 barrel aged produced by Black Sea Gold, Pomorie. Top right: a bit of Bulgarian humor. Middle row, from left to right: the Eagles' Bridge, St. Sofia Church, and the Statue of Saint Sofia (which replaced the former statue of Lenin that stood on the same spot). Bottom row: our final cucumber yogurt soup, artefacts from a 16th century church in the Sofia History Museum, ice creams at Gelateria Naturale (including a quite memorable scoop of honey poppyseed), and the interior of the Sofia Synagogue.

With one last cucumber yogurt soup to see us off, we headed back to the airport on our seventh and final day together. We tucked in to bed in Paris that night with the surprising news that 1. the National Visa Center had answered our application just 10 days (instead of the advertized 6 weeks) after our document submission, and 2. we'd been rejected due to two failed documents. The wild scramble to get a replacement police certificate from the UK government filled our last evening together. (Apparently criminal background checks are not the same as police certificates!) Nicolas sent me off the following morning for a weekend on the East Coast, where I made an appearance at a dear friend's wedding and finally fetched our kitties, beginning our family reunification in San Francisco.
The adventures of the world traveling kitties continue. Onward and upward to our luxury apartment in San Francisco!
Although they (and by they, I mostly mean Chat) were not fans of airport security, which Chat gladly let me know, they survived the flight as a single carry-on unit, and have so far approved of their new home with a view. We are now just one green card short of being a whole family again. 💜

Monday, July 16, 2018

Speak of the devil

Speak of the devil. Mere hours after I last posted about my frustration over the silence on the immigration front, it finally ended. This morning I woke to an excited text from Nicolas and a much anticipated email:



Finally! We are now officially past the USCIS (US Citizenship and Immigration Services) and on to the NVC (National Visa Center). I was logged into the NVC site, pajama clad but suddenly wide awake, filling in payment details as quickly as my fingers could navigate the keyboard. In a couple of days when our payments have been processed, we'll have full access to the online forms and document submission sections of the website.

I'm kicking myself for overlooking the opportunity to pre-assemble all these documents. It will take us a couple of weeks (hopefully no more!) to acquire and translate everything that will be asked of us. That's a couple of weeks sooner that we could be reunited, entirely on us. [insert self-loathing here] Doing our best to make up for lost time, we jumped onto various British and Belgian government sites to formally request the papers that will bring us one step closer to life together.

Once we submit these documents, there's a 6-week wait to get the results. If we're lucky, our case will be transferred directly to the Embassy in France, through which Nicolas can schedule his medical visit and interview. Who knows? Maybe we'll be together before the year is out.

For now, a manila folder sits beside me, just waiting to be fattened.

Sunday, July 15, 2018

Victoire, nine time zones off

I kept saying I'd share some fun SF updates. Among them, there was Pride. San. Francisco. Pride. Does it get any prouder? But that'll happen again next year, and hopefully I'll have someone special to share it with! This is the event that struck my blogger's fancy: a soccer game that required waking up before 9am on a Sunday morning.

This wasn't just any soccer match. It was the World Cup starring France. Full confession: I still hardly dragged myself out of bed. I've been coming down with a head cold that had different ideas for my morning. When the cheers outside my window and the google score count told me I had no more excuses, I pulled together as much blue and red as I could find, brushed my teeth, and ran out to the Civic Center to catch the last 15 minutes.
Allez les bleus !
It's the closest I've felt to France while on this side of the pond. There was a certain satisfaction to sharing a celebration with a bunch of compatriots, even (or especially?) ones unusually energized for this hour on an overcast Sunday morning. I realized I was feeling homesick for a place whose passport I don't even hold. To top it off, some of my first dates with Nicolas centered around the matches of the last World Cup, so it stung to have France win the very next World Cup and not get to share that. For a few moments, I got to imagine I was back home in France.

Then my husband sent me photos from said home, and I didn't have to imagine anymore. Maybe one of the biggest pros of the wait for his green card was the chance Nicolas had to get on the Champs Elysées tonight. I was so glad he got to be there to share this moment with his country.
Sweet victory flooded the Champs Elysées
It's not every day that the monotony of waiting to be reunited is punctuated with such moments of victory. Vive la France !

Wednesday, July 4, 2018

#FamiliesBelongTogether

A wave of guilt washed over me as I weaved through the parade of protestors walking past with their signs. Abolish Ice. Children don't belong in cages. I care, y don't u? I do care! And we all should. But life has a tendency of getting in the way. It was Saturday morning and my watch read 11:27. My aerial silks class was due to begin in 3 minutes. There just wasn't time. There never is. Some things are worth creating time, so after class, walking upstream against the packs of twos and threes slowly scattering away, signs by their sides, I headed over to catch the tail end of the rally outside city hall. I wanted to be counted. Separating families who are desperately seeking to escape violence isn't right. It isn't human. 
#FamiliesBelongTogether

Listening to everyone fight this fight wasn't easy. Not only was I ashamed of my government, but I was also heartbroken by how big this fight is going to have to be. Everyone here was talking about the most immediate and obvious immigration problem at hand, but all I could think about was how the government isn't only violently separating families at borders. Even those who follow the law, the "legal immigrants," suffer a calm and cold separation which, speaking from experience, can feel endless, hopeless. Months of silence from a government who holds our lives in its filing cabinets. Last January, I poured my heart and soul into a thick folder documenting every proof of our relationship, evidenced by a 380-page pdf copy that I've kept just in case we have to start all over. At the start of February, our sealed hopes and dreams went off in a postbox. A letter in mid-May, one piece of paper after 3.5 months, was our first light at the end of the tunnel. It has since been followed by more months of deafening silence. I feel powerless and betrayed by my own government. I never imagined it would treat its own citizens this way.

Last Sunday evening, after a weekend of reflection, I shared this: 

#FamiliesBelongTogether Proud of my new city and all the socially-minded citizens who care. Our immigration system is broken. And I know I speak from a place of privilege, but these marches really hit home. My family too has been separated by the USCIS. No, we haven't been put in cages or seen children torn from our arms. But, when 8 months into my marriage, my husband and I found ourselves with no obvious choice but to move to the US, we started packing our boxes and placed a call with an immigration lawyer only to learn he couldn't come with me. I am a US citizen, born and raised in America, to two US parents. Even I couldn't bring home my own husband, my chosen and legally-recognized family, with me. If an American living abroad chooses to move back to the US with a foreign spouse, the process to bring a spouse to the States takes about a year. And that's speedy for the US immigration services. We are the lucky ones. My husband is French, so he'll eventually get admitted to this country. Our own immigration services tear apart newlyweds, casually force even citizens from America's oldest ally to wait a year to rejoin an American spouse, and that's the legal process. That's the norm. Folks, this problem is a lot bigger than illegal crossings on the Mexican border. It's time for change.

I could talk all day, but I guess that's all I have to say. I really miss my husband. Only 37 days now until my next flight lands in Paris.

Sunday, June 10, 2018

Another low profile weekend

To spice things up in the kitchen, and to free up my Sunday for the hours I unfortunately knew that I'd be spending at work, I decided to prepare both of my weekend Plated dishes on Saturday. But then naptime called. It's amazing what working at a start-up will do to your energy levels come the weekend. To be fair, I had had an awesome Saturday morning silks class for once, where I really felt like I was crushing it.
I'm chilling down in Level 1 classes and finally getting some of the form that I'd breezed past without mastering while doing silks in the UK last year.
I kicked things off post-circus-training with a Provençal Salmon, a French dish, in honor of the fourth anniversary of Nicolas and my first date. It was excellent overall, but the white wine and butter pan sauce really took this meal over the top. Can you swoon for food?
In progress: Provençal Salmon with crispy summer home fries
As usual, I reached out to a friend or two to catch up but didn't push too hard once the ball got dropped. I'm trying to stay on the radar but generally lie low for the next few months while I recover from the double-whammy of options exercising and discovering that Nicolas will likely be coming to the US sooner than anticipated. The latter, while amazing, means that 1. I need to find a bigger space when my lease runs out in July, since married couples shouldn't really live in other peoples' living rooms, and 2. Nicolas needed two round-trip tickets from SF to Paris if I still plan to use my own trans-Atlantics for the Thanksgiving and Christmas holidays. And you best believe I still plan to. A girl has to have her priorities.

But what self-respecting Parisian-explant's priorities don't include the proper accessories? So says the siren call tempting me back to that site whose acquaintance I've recently made: poshmark. It's where the penny-pinching fashionista's savings account goes to die. (Fashionista, you ask? It's all about context. When your context is the tech-bro world of Silicon Valley, then damn straight, call me fashionista.)

In between the browser-window shopping for sun hats and Mary Janes, I did pull off a second weekend dish. Today's specialty: Roasted Squash and Snap Pea Bowls with Quinoa and Tahini Sauce. The principal ingredients weren't much to get excited over, but the mint, cilantro, harissa, and cashews paired magnificently together. Thanks to Plated, I am one class act in the kitchen.
In progress: Roasted Squash and Snap Pea Bowls with Quinoa and Tahini Sauce
And the winner... well, it seems rather anticlimactic to outline another weekend's menu for my reader. Food was hardly meant to be the topic for this blog. While there is a certain charm to becoming a master chef and circus artist in the few spare moments I escape from my laser cave, I find it rather lacking on the social and cultural side. Here's to hoping my next update will extend beyond the confines of my (delightful) home and that circus studio a few blocks away. And speaking of places far away, the count until I see my husband again is now a mere 61 days. This upcoming Wednesday, we'll be hitting the half way point between our last goodbye and next hello!

(For those of you with bated breath, the winner was the Provençal salmon. Bien sûr.)
My weekend eats.

Sunday, June 3, 2018

Plated x3

My photography projects/culinary edification continued this weekend under a most glorious sun. It almost felt criminal to stay inside in the kitchen. But kitchen- and computer-based projects, and the hope that I could cut down on San Francisco-style spending (I feel like I bleed money each time I walk around this town), I hunkered down for the weekend, and with some tasty results! Saturday was all about soy-lime shiitakes and sweet potatoes. For those of you that know that my tastes, yes, you did read that correctly: I voluntarily chose to prepare and consume a mushroom-based dish. But with the promise of cilantro and sweet potatoes, I really couldn't hold myself back. And while I would probably swap the mushrooms for some protein source if I were to repeat the meal, the flavor blend was really appealing.
Soy lime shiitakes and sweet potatoes à la Plated
I'd saved the decadence for Sunday afternoon: a creamy, fatty broccoli-cheddar mac and cheese casserole. There really wasn't anything to argue about in this dish, though I did cut down to just half that onion. I wasn't going out and socialising, but even I wouldn't want to be around my own onion-breath after that much onion in one go.
Broccoli-cheddar mac and cheese
The winner for best dish this weekend was far from obvious. The broccoli-cheddar mac and cheese was at a disadvantage since it's hardly a warm weather dish. Give me that and a hot chocolate when I'm chilling in sweats on a snowy Sunday anytime. But given the San Francisco weather, the health benefits, and the more complex flavor profile, I'd probably hand a conditional win to Saturday's recipe, if you could just swap the mushrooms. But no clear winner is a good thing: I'm eating quite well at a fraction of the San Francisco costs. Just six more months of this rhythm and I'll have paid off that options exercise loan!
Plated Week 3. Yummy eats without the city price tags. :)