After discovering The Bird in Berlin, I didn't think it was possible for burgers in Europe to get any better. But after our latest trip to Paris, there might another serious contender: Le Camion Qui Fume, or 'the truck that smokes'. Still only a couple of years in operation, the brainchild of California chef Kristin Frederick, has amassed quite the following - literally. Parked at two different locations for the lunch and the dinner crowd, the line for such coveted American burgers can run upwards of an hour. That is, if they don't run out before you reach the truck.

Ordering the barbeque-bacon burger, I was picturing a dripping mess. Instead I found my burger packed all the same flavor as the often over-loaded American counterpart into a nicely wrapped and not terribly saucy alternative - a nice realization considering brown bagging it means eating over your fashionable Parisian clothes. The burger meat was excellent, if not a close second to that of The Bird, but it was really the brioche bun that stood out. The fluffy-soft and sesame-d bun was perfectly suited to a burger, although not surprising in a country that is known for its obsession with good bread. I know preference around French fries is a terribly personal thing, but I must admit that if it's a potato and it's fried, I'm pretty happy to be eating it. That said, I did think these thinner-cut fries were pretty fresh and fantastic. The only downside to the take-out system is that the steam gets trapped in the bag and the fries can become soggier than they're meant to be if you don't eat them immediately. Again, not usually a problem for me.  

While the dinner wait can be a bit of a killer - a fight almost broke out when someone slyly tried to cut the line - our stop for a lunchtime burger on the way out of town proved very quick and painless. My advice: arrive as close to opening as possible. But if you do have to wait, just know that a little piece of authentic, American burger goodness waits for you at the other end.





Le Camion Qui Fume
five-six days a week, lunch and dinner service
times and locations updated online
also check Twitter for updates

What began as a simple search for a nice spot to spend a few days on the southwestern coast of France turned into an opportunity to visit one of the most amazing beaches I have ever seen: the Great Dune of Pyla. On several of those 'places you didn't know you needed to visit' lists, this dune could easily be a wonder of the world. The highest sand dune in Europe, at 110 meters/about 360 feet high and 500 meters/nearly a third of a mile wide, moves inland at a rate of one to five meters a year, swallowing forest, houses and parts of the Atlantic Wall (coastal fortifications built by Nazi Germany during the Second World War). To give you an idea of its recent growth, it was only 35 meters/114 feet high in 1855.

We decided to visit one evening during our stay in the area, figuring sunset from the dune was going to be pretty fantastic. After the tilting, fun house-like 154 steps up to the top, we were not disappointed. Not only was the height staggering, but the views on both sides were equally stunning. The Bay of Arcachon and a dreamy sunset to the west, then this half-buried, seemingly-endless pine forest to the east. It was the kind of natural beauty in all its unfathomable glory that nearly brings tears to your eyes. After a spectacular sunset, countless pictures and watching thrill seekers jump and run full force down the side of the dune, we begrudgingly headed back to our hotel, with the dune's beauty forever imprinted on our memories.

And to think, if we had not been traveling on this side of France, we might never have discovered this breathtaking part of the world...

Candelaria is easily one of 'our' places in Paris. We go, usually multiple times, every visit. Whenever we hear of anyone going to Paris, we always recommend it - especially if they are American, and especially if they are expats. When you grow up on Mexican food, moving so far away from it - not to mention so far away from anyone who even knows what it's really supposed to taste like - is tough.

I first learned about Candelaria via Lindsey of Lost in Cheeseland last year while researching places to eat for an upcoming trip and immediately put it our must-go list. We were so smitten with it, that we went three times that weekend. Not only is the food like the best taco truck offerings you've ever tasted and the establishment itself a cozy, no-frills cantina (blink and you'll miss the nondescript exterior and barely legible name scrawled in marker on the front window), but the folks running the place are some of the warmest and friendliest you will meet. The flurry of English, French and Spanish inside only adds to the worldly atmosphere.

The menu is short and sweet, but you are never left wanting something more. There are always a couple of tacos and tostadas, sometimes quesadillas. It's simple food that is easy to fill up on when you can't stop eating it, with options like tinga de pollo, al pastor, beans with queso blanco, and don't forget the chips and guacamole! Add in the house margaritas rimmed with spicy salt or any number of Mexican beers and you have the perfect meal. But if you do find yourself craving more, it's easy to add on to your order with this easy-going kitchen - just be prepared for the exasperated looks from the line of people waiting on the wall for one of the ten or so seats.

After eating, or after some late-night clubbing, the bar in the back is a necessary stop. Going through what looks like a broom closet door next to the kitchen, you are transported to this warm, slightly rustic and much larger space that looks nothing like its eatery counterpart. If the inviting atmosphere doesn't make you want to stay there for the rest of the night, the unique cocktails sure will. The hipster-y bartenders and their arms of steel will shake and muddle and blend your drink with the care and precision of a chemist, making the €10-12 you plunk down for it feel like a bargain.

Until next time, Candelaria...









Candelaria
52 Rue de Saintonge
75003 Paris
info@candelariaparis.com

Ahh, Paris... Those ornate Metro signs. Those iconic grey roofs. Those winding, leaking underground tunnels of public transportation. Paris was the first big European city where I spent time during a summer study program in high school, which only fed my Francophile fire. Even in my sad, suburban clothes and surrounded by our rambunctious middle-school traveling companions, I could feel the magic of this city and knew it was a corner of the world where I felt, at least in part, that I belonged.

Host to a very eventful (read: boderline disastrous) engagement and a few road trips from our not-so-new home in Germany, Paris has become a regular in our travel rotation - something this California native couldn't have even hoped to imagine on that first trip all those years ago. So when we got invited to a friends' wedding in Bordeaux, we knew it was a required stop on the way. Sometimes, you just need a couple of days in Paris.

July being peak tourist season, we didn't even bother with the usual suspects, but instead just wandered, hit up some of our favorite spots and finally got to try that authentic California burger truck. Paris isn't always the Champs-Élysées or the Louvre. It's also finding new, hole-in-the-wall places to eat, enjoying the beauty in your favorite Metro stations and being surprised by nightly free concerts a block from where you are staying. I didn't even see the Eiffel Tower this trip, save a few glimpses of it peeking out from behind various city architecture. But that's OK, there's always next time. Because Paris is always a good idea.

Sometimes, it feels completely crazy that I chose to move to a country where I don't speak the language, and that learning said language is, in the understatement of the year, really challenging. Sometimes, all I can do is laugh about it - and videos like this help. To be fair, Germans don't really sound like this when they talk. Unless they are really upset about something, like someone crossing the street against a red light. Or scolding their children. No wonder German children are so well-behaved...

Huge thanks to my fellow expat friends for sharing this little gem with me!

I've never really been a cook. Seriously. Before moving to Germany and having significantly more time to dedicate to hausfrau pursuits, I was the kind of girl who could burn water. This new way of focusing on food, more for its enjoyment than as a rushed afterthought at the end of a 12-hour workday, has really blossomed into a love of cooking I never thought I would possess. Now, I not only tear through each new issue of Bon Appetit with a voracity that I used to reserve for the likes of fashion magazines, but somewhere along the line, I actually got brave enough to start experimenting. And this, ladies and gentleman, was the first of such creations. Simple, easy and delicious. It's my baby, in the kitchen sense. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do.


Chicken Stir Fry

2 large boneless, skinless chicken breasts, cut into chunks
4 cups of green beans and chopped red bell pepper (or any fresh veggies you prefer)
2 small shallots, chopped
2 cloves of garlic, finely chopped
1 spicy pepper, chopped
4-6 tbsp roasted sesame oil
4-6 tbsp soy sauce
Srirachi rooster sauce
roasted sesame seeds
cashews, halved
4 cups cooked rice

Heat 2 tablespoons each of sesame oil and soy sauce in a large non-stick skillet or wok over medium-high heat. Add shallots, garlic and pepper and cook until softened, about 5-7 minutes. Add chicken, with a bit of salt, freshly ground pepper and a tablespoon of Sriracha to taste. Sauté until chicken is cooked through. Reduce heat to medium. Add veggies and a drizzle of both sesame oil and soy sauce on top, cover and let steam for about 5 minutes (I like my veggies with a bit of crunch, but cook longer if you prefer softer results). Remove from heat and stir. Serve over rice and sprinkle with roasted sesame seeds, cashews and Sriracha to your liking.

Makes four servings.

Autumn means the start of my favorite weather, my favorite season to shop for, my favorite season to eat for, not to mention, my birthday which so conveniently occurs when the fall merchandise is starting to trickle into shops. Starting with the runway shows months earlier, fall fashion actually hitting the stores is a highly anticipated thing - and I am no exception to its pull. If it could be sweater-and-boot-weather year-round, I would be one happy girl.

Perhaps I'm getting more particular in my years (oh, that birthday looming closer...) or maybe my tastes are just evolving, but I'm hard-pressed to find a lot of fall fashion that I just can't live without this year. As I grow and change, and retailers do the same, I find that many of my go-to brands just aren't doing it for me like they used to. Years later, I'm still a broken up about the closure of one of my favorite, albeit short-lived, retailers Martin + Osa. This year's J.Crew Fall/Holiday lookbook? A little fussy and a lot expensive-looking for my tastes, once again featuring 'collection' items I couldn't afford in my wildest dreams anyway. Even more accessible yet fashionable retailer Zara's Autumn/Winter campaign rather put me to sleep. Plus, I'm always a bit torn between my classic, slightly tomboyish sensibilities and the desire to be brave with something new and trendy.


While Madewell has a pretty big following on the blogger circuit and I've always admired a lot of its styles, I find I never buy anything there (save a t-shirt and a scarf at one of its first store locations years and years ago). Perhaps it's the shorter hemlines and more laid-back style, but I always worried about trying too hard to be younger with this brand (again, that birthday...). Its latest lookbook might have persuaded me to rethink this. The textures, the colors and the prints all have me pining, not to mention, much like its parent company, Madewell's Italian-made shoes (in my size, no less!) and beautifully classic handbags are investment pieces that won't require living on a park bench in order to afford them. If living entirely inside this lookbook was possible, I would do it in a heartbeat.


Boden is another one that I've been a bit lukewarm about for awhile, all the prints and silhouettes either too busy or not made for my shape: super-tall with some definite junk in the trunk. It seems Boden too has amped things up this season and the first round of autumn has left me wanting more, like the flared and a-line dresses (oh, shift dresses, how I wish I could wear you!) and some seriously sophisticated prints. That whole berry-hued ensemble on the left? Yeah, I'd like to look exactly like that all autumn.


No other fall collection caught my eye quite the same way as Madewell's and Boden's did, but it certainly doesn't mean there's nothing else I'm smitten with. Most of new retailer & Other Stories fall/winter offerings are a bit avant-garde for me, but this dreamy watercolor top makes me want to push the boundaries of my oft-basic and solid-color tendencies. The color-blocked statement coat from Gap is just the kind of special piece you want to add to a wardrobe already chalk full of great Gap basics. There's already quite a buzz around this coat and I can only guess it will be another one to stalk the website for, lest you walk away coatless and broken-hearted.

With our Berlin savings plan still in full-effect, the sad reality is that I won't be buying much of anything new this season. But a girl can dream...  How do you view the new fall season? Do you make a list of carefully-curated pieces you have been wanting, regardless of trends? Do you jump on the pieces that first catch your eye when the new collections hit the stores? Tell me your fashion plans and inspiration this season. I want to live vicariously through you.


Image credits:
J.Crew // Farrell and Company // Nordstrom
Madewell Fall Lookbook via Popsugar
Boden (USA)
& Other Stories Fall/Winter Lookbook via press-à-porter // Gap Fall Lookbook via Refinery29

Looking for a good, American-style burger in Germany is as useless as searching for meaning in a Pauly Shore movie. All Clueless '90s references aside, any meat-loving American living, or traveling, in Germany might go a little crazy wondering why German burgers more closely resemble a slab of meatloaf on a lackluster bun than that meaty, juicy classic so ubiquitous in the US. So after a few years of so-so burgers (and gorging on In-N-Out whenever we were back in the states), we decided to take our very well-traveled friend's advice and try what he deemed to be 'the best burgers in Europe': The Bird in Berlin.

Our first trip there, we lucked out that a table opened up at the last minute and we greedily jumped on it in anticipation of such highly-praised American fare (reservations are all but required, and well in advance). We didn't have to wait long for our food - which probably had a bit to do with the limited time before the next reservation was to arrive - and when the overflowing plates were set in front of us, our mouths remained agape for a good minute before we snapped out of our trance and got down to the business of stuffing our faces.

The thick-cut, not-quite-steak-fries were rustic and that perfect combination of crisp outside and soft inside. The dill pickle spear was fresh, delicious and appeared to be homemade, with bits of dill stuck to it (note: on our second visit to The Bird months later, the pickle was not-so-fresh and not nearly as good - a big bummer, as I miss good dill pickles something fierce). But it's really the burger that remains the star here. The thick, juicy patties take any American right back to their favorite burger place and immediately put the rest of German burgers clearly in their place: close, but no cigar. The multitude of ways you can get your burger decked out - from a variety of cheeses to bacon to guacamole - are equally impressive, and equally as messy. I've heard a few Americans scoff at the English muffin-style buns and while I don't dislike them, I will admit they have a hard time holding up to such massive, dripping burgers.

The loud, beer hall-meets-cafeteria atmosphere, the assortment of ciders and whiskeys, the English-speaking (if you prefer) waitresses are all reminiscent of your favorite American burger joint, but it's the mouth-watering burgers - a bit pricey, but worth every penny for that imported US beef - that make it required eating for any burger-lover in Berlin.

Oh yeah, and in case you thought this was just another German place trying to masquerade as American fare...



The Bird
Am Falkplatz 5 Prenzlauerberg
Berlin, 10437
phone: 0305 105 3283
reservations: thebirdreservations@gmail.com

I must admit up-front that I'm not one of those crafty bloggers. I am impossibly hard on myself and am rather lacking in craft/home-ec skills, so taking on projects such as this are few and far between. But for some reason, when I saw this warped and stained sideboard sitting in a pile of trash in front of a nearby old folk's home, it called my name. So I had to answer.

After making my husband help me pack this massive thing in the back of the car and haul it up two flights of stairs to our apartment - that's the thing about old furniture, it's heavy - I started to take a closer look and wonder if I was crazy to take this on. I had only refinished one piece of furniture before, and while I adore the finished product, I could tell the work was child's play compared to what I had sitting in front of me now. All that grooved trim work, lock and key door closures with no key to be found, the damaged top edge... I figured if it turned out horribly, it could just go back on the sidewalk for someone else to pick up.

Luckily, with a lot of sanding, a good base coat and a combination of smooth sponge brush and sponge roller, I'm pretty happy with how it turned out. I looked to makeover maven Jeran over at Oleander + Palm for tips on painting laminate furniture, which I had to adjust a bit since I had neither an electric sander nor a yard suitable for spray painting in, so old-school elbow grease and cans of traditional paint had to do. The toughest part is stomaching how much money you can pour into a free piece of furniture. With all I spent on brushes, paint and new hardware, we could have had a brand new, damage-free piece (or two!) from Ikea, but then we wouldn't have this unique and more personal piece of furniture. Warped top and all.

There are only a couple minor details still to be worked out. Since patching the keyholes and installing plain knobs, there was the issue of the doors actually staying shut. Magnets I found here were so thick and bulky, the doors would have been left with a significantly large gap, even when shut, but the flat adhesive ones my mom very kindly sent from the states for me are so weak, the doors tend to fall open on their own. Granted, this probably has more to do with the fact that our floors slope in at a 20-degree angle than any shortcomings on the magnets' part, so here's hoping our next apartment is a bit more level. The dingy, stained interior also begs for some kind of revamp as well, but contact paper options in Germany are like so many crafting options here - limited and uninspired. I'm hoping eventually I can find something like this - or this - to give it a chicer, cleaner backdrop for the items we store inside.





One added benefit to picking things out of the trash (as if they are numerous), is that you never know what treasures might be found inside. In this case, it was just stains, aside from a 1950 deutschemark wedged into the back of one the drawers. Since I had never visited Germany before the dawn of the euro, it was my first ever of the currency and I considered it a good omen for my project. I think it was right on.