Just call me Ina.

For 99% of the people who know me, what I'm about to say will come as no surprise:

I'm obsessed with The Food Network. 

More specifically, I'm obsessed with Ina Garten. Sort of like a modern day Julia Child, her name is synonymous with everything beautiful about the love and art of cooking. Barefoot Contessa, Garten's claim to fame, single-handedly sparked my "appetite" for cuisine.   

Her style of cooking, which I'd classify as simple and elegant, while still being comfortable and approachable, is exactly what makes my tastebuds sing. Although never classically trained, Garten's recipes exude all the appeal of a gourmet with the love of a self-taught cook.

And her style of living? Let's just say it's all that I could (and do) dream for, plus a little more. Garten spends the majority of her time in the Hamptons where she and her adorable husband, Jeffrey, share a breathtaking home. It's essentially a food lover's paradise; Garten built a barn in her backyard equipped with a drool-worthy kitchen. Her backyard also boasts an impressive garden of herbs and vegetables, proving that until you've grown your own produce, you have no idea what you're missing. Her show, Barefoot Contessa allows us to follow Garten as she buys fresh ingredients from local shops that specialize in everything from flowers to cheese and wine. 

As if it couldn't get any better, she and Jeffrey split their time between their home in the Hamptons and PARIS. They renovated a beautiful apartment in the 6th arrondissement, right around the corner from where I had class! The neighborhood is filled with shops, cafes, and patisseries, among which Ina finds some of her favorites (for example Poilane Bakery, Cafe Varenne, and the Raspail Organic Market).

#1 Ina Superfan

I think it's safe to say, I want her life. 

My absolute dream would be to one day move to France, attend culinary school in Paris, then land a job on The Food Network hosting my own cooking show. 

Making pumpkin macarons at La Cuisine Paris

But if things don't exactly go as planned, I recently discovered my back-up plan. After my cooking class yesterday at La Cuisine Paris, where I learned how to make the famous french Macarons, I realized what a perfect fit it would be to teach cooking classes in both French and English right in the center of Paris! I know, I know-- I'm getting a little ahead of myself now, but a girl can dream! 

OK, back to reality...

When I first started this blog, my intention was simply to chronicle my semester in France. But what I'd really love to be is the author of a food blog. In case you've been living under a rock, food blogging is one of the biggest crazes to hit the blog world. Seriously, if you're not already addicted to Food Gawker, you will be now... You're welcome. 

So, with Ina as my inspiration, I'm posting my first recipe. I hope you enjoy!

Fight, flight, forget?

Well, this is embarrassing. Has it really been one month since my last post? 

Time has managed to creep up on me like those pesky pounds during the holiday season-- you just never know how bad it's gotten until "HOLY SHIT! I swear these jeans fit yesterday!" 

All I have to say is... Okay, maybe that's where my problem starts. 

-------------------------

This is the story of a girl who...

Last weekend I tried...

I bought 14 jars of mustard because...

You've all heard of writer's block. Now meet it's evil twin sister: blogger's block. 

It's not that I haven't come across relevant material. In fact, over the past month I've been to some truly incredible places, eaten amazing food, and seen some pretty cool things. 

But what to write? A slight, nagging uneasiness kept reminding me, Isn't there something you should be updating? Like maybe... your blog?

I'll be the first to admit, I have a not-so-awesome quality. (If you're reading this as a potential employer, feel free to stop here and refer to my ridiculously good looking resume.)

The thing is, when something stresses me out, my reflex is to create a mental block. I'll do anything imaginable just forget about the job at hand. Sometimes, my creativity in coming up with useless tasks can surprise even myself. 

Case and point, my I-hate-all-forms-of-literature phase. Or any one of these examples...

Essay due in six hours-- It's about time I rearrange my room. 

Need to pack for a trip-- I think I'll just go for a quick run. 

Too many pictures to post-- I wonder what's changed on Facebook since 10 minutes ago?

Blog to update-- I'm just waiting until I think of a brilliant topic! 

See it all coming together now?

If I dig down to the root of my anxiety, without getting too weird, it's the fact that my semester in Paris is quite literally FLYING by. We passed by the halfway point faster than the time it takes me to polish off a block of brie. And tha's fast!

When I think of everything that has yet to be crossed off my imaginary to-do list (I keep meaning to make one... how ironic), it's enough to make my head spin. And obviously, stress me out. 

It's not until I realize all the things I've already done that I come back to Earth. I'm finally coming to terms with the fact that no one can do everything in just three months. What I can try to do now is not take a single day here for granted and appreciate what time I have left. 

And that's about enough cheese for one post. 

I promise the next one won't take a month... 

"I'll try anything once, twice if I like it, three times to make sure." --Mae West

Sometimes, the simplest things can incite a brand new passion for life.

An unforgettable meal can motivate a stay-at-home mom to become a chef; A breathtaking exhibit can inspire a painter to turn their hobby into a profession; A stroll past Tiffany's could encourage a lover to finally propose.

My new enthusiasm falls on a slightly smaller scale, but deserves some credit nonetheless... 

I'll set the scene: To say that I've never been keen on reading would be a mild understatement. My history dates back to the fifth grade, when I bought books at the school book fair because the titles came in a swirly font and pretty color. They were essentially dust collectors that I would occasionally flip through then decide (for one reason or another) "this book sucks." Sometime after my weird days of white eyeliner and braces, my distaste for reading became hard to ignore.

Regardless of the subject matter-- if it was typed, printed, or could be found between two book ends, I was almost guaranteed to flatline. Some people count sheep to fall asleep. Literally, all I had to do was open to page one. 

If I could pinpoint the source of this aversion, I'd say it started when reading simply became a chore. Chapters one through four due tomorrow? I'd rather lick a cactus, but thanks for playing.

Then came Sparknotes. Opening that treasure chest was like making a deal with the devil, like gettin' away with murder. Granted, some teachers were wise to our pseudo-knowledge and formulated tests accordingly. Others were not so bright... I took a liking to the latter.

By junior year, I noticed that this pattern might be getting out of hand. Full of optimism that the next book would spark my interest, I vowed each time to finish what I started. I remember the day we were assigned The Catcher in the Rye. I had my doubts, but still, I swore I would read the whole thing. Night after night, I'd truck along... 

I hardly made it past page thirty-five.

This nasty habit followed me to college like that little lamb to Mary. Assigned reading had become as painful as stilettos at 2 a.m. I needed something to relate to-- something to inspire me.

It wasn't until this summer that something clicked. One day, free of work and looking for something to do, I happened upon Border's. 

Much to the surprise of my family ("You're where?!"), I walked up and down the aisles of the two-level bookstore for nearly three hours. It was intimidating at first-- I felt like all the regular bookworms knew that I hadn't set foot in a bookstore since... uh... you get the point. But I quickly got lost reading cookbooks and flipping through memoirs. My goal was to buy just one book, and I ended up with two.

The first was a biography written by a prominent and successful model, Crystal Renn. The second was a novel that had garnered enormous popularity over the summer. Whether in the gym, on the beach or on the train, no one was without their copy of The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo (by Stieg Larsson). I figured, if I was going to kick off this new hobby on the right foot, I might as well start with a book that people couldn't seem to get enough of.

I finished the memoir in a matter of days. The novel took me just two weeks.

Judge if you must, but I haven't read for pleasure since The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants circa the ninth grade. (I never read the final one-- Go figure.) And all it took was a trip to Border's to fulfill a sense of maturity that was lacking due to my irrational, preconceived notion that reading was for nerds. 

I write this post now because I've just finished another book: The Girl who Played with Fire. At 724 pages, it's officially the only book that's been able to captivate my attention for so many consecutive page turns. 

With every intention of rounding out the Larsson trilogy with The Girl who Kicked the Hornet's Nest, I think I can deem this old habit: kicked.

*I dedicate this post to my family, whom I miss and love very much! Amanda-- I bet you never thought you'd see the day...

Ich liebe dich, Deutschland.

It's been about four days since I left Germany... and for the past four days, all I could think about is how badly I want to go back. 

Be it a certain je ne sais quoi, there's just something about German culture that's got me saying, "Ich liebe dich, Deutschland!"

For starters, Munich is legit. The buildings are beautiful, the transportation is easy enough, there's tons of stuff to do, and the people are actually friendly. What a concept! Paris, I hope you're taking notes...  

Secondly, the German's definitely know how to throw a party. Oktoberfest may as well be the end all, be all.  Seriously-- how can one go wrong with endless beer, baked goods, and lederhosen (I still regret not buying my own). 

To boot, beer halls like the Hofbräuhaus make American dining look more like a snoozefest than anything else.

On the down side, the food is 95 percent meat. For those who don't know, that's a healthy chunk of the food pyramid that I tend to avoid. I'm about to attempt some math here so bear with me. Of the 95 percent meat-based food, about 91.5 percent are sausages and/or wieners, but call it what you like. The rest are potatoes and schnitzel. But the remaining five percent are lip smacking, good old-fashioned carbs, sugar, and butter. Needless to say, in a country of carnivores I did not feel the least bit deprived.

Now that I've given you ample reasons as to why you should book your own trip ASAP, I'll provide you with some words of travel wisdom-- all from personal experience. And let's just say, I took one for the team. 

Tip #1: Become acquainted with your accommodations before you leave. This means that if you're staying in a small hotel, don't over-pack; if you're staying in a hostel, don't forget a towel; and if you're staying in a campground, just don't. 

 Usually, (and I have both Mom & Troop 160 to thank for this) I'm a happy camper. I know my way around a tent, and most of the time I actually enjoy it. However, without the proper supplies, camping can be downright miztown. Add freezing weather to the mix, and "down for whatever" becomes "down in the dumps." 

 The expressions on our faces when we walked up to "Weis'N'Camp" must have been photoworthy. For some reason, we thought we had booked a hostel. In reality, we had paid $120 each for a 4X4 Coleman tent. No pillows, no blankets, no beds. Just us, a tent, and about a thousand other Oktoberfesters. 

  I spent the first night bundled in whatever I could find to stay warm-- extra T-shirts, multiple pairs of pants, my windbreaker as a mattress, my luggage as a pillow, and a towel as my only source of coverage. With a scarf wrapped around my head, we quickly realized that surviving the night would be impossible without blankets. Lexi and Amanda thankfully sprung for the eight euro ones that the camp was selling, and we put our faith in the power of body heat. With Bear Grylls as our guardian angel that night, we made it to the morning.

Tip #2: Timeliness is everything. Even after waking up at 5 a.m. and hightailing it outta the camp, we didn't make it to the festival until about ten. Which entitled us to a nice big table outside the beer hall, but also provided an entirely different scene from the hubbub inside. This could have been both a blessing an a curse. 

  Apparently, sitting inside the beer hall is absolute chaos. Since we were at the most famous and oldest beer hall at the festival, Hofbräuhaus was essentially mayhem. The tent has a holding capacity of almost 10,000 including the outdoor seating. I'll give you a moment to process that...

  

Tip #3: Always anticipate challenges. In the case of Oktoberfest-- Head to the bathroom before your bladder even tells your inebriated brain it's time. Let's do some simple arithmetic now. What does 10,000 people + 35,000 liters of beer + 2 outdoor bathrooms + 1 indoor bathroom get you? One answer-- wet pants.

Tip #4: Take advantage of your assets. Even though the campsite ended up being a bust, we still walked away with a free T-shirt, beer stein, and free drinks from 1-5 at The Clubhouse. Plus a really great story to tell the grandkiddies. A wise man once said, "Do it for the story."

Tip #5: Blend in with the locals. In Munich's case, that means buying a lederhosen. Also known as traditional German garb-- it's definitely a fashion-do in the Hofbräuhaus. Ignore the occasional double-take, those people are probably as jealous as I was. One step inside the festival, and you'll instantly be in tune with your German forefathers. I felt out of place in jeans, so I opted for one of these cool hats. But either works.

Tip #6: Enjoy yourself. Nothing ruins a trip like unnecessary stress. My advice? Leave the drama at the door and remind yourself of what a special and unique opportunity you've been given. I wasn't sure if I'd make it to Munich this semester, but I sure am glad that I did. Sometimes the most unexpected journeys end up being the most memorable. 

*For more pictures from the trip, visit my facebook page!