Give Me Oak Trees

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If there is one thing I begrudge Miami urban planning and developing, it's the lack of beautiful trees in the city. There is nothing like the beauty of a royal poinciana in full bloom, or a majestic oak draped in a veil of Spanish moss. Or even a Florida red maple in golden splendor. (Yes, we CAN grow maples down here. I've seen a couple hiding out).

All we have are cliche palm trees. How original, not.

Granted, Coral Gables and Coconut Grove try with very few banyans and a few graceless oaks on select ritzy streets...but it's insignificant in number considering the size of the county.

Pick up the pace, Miami-Dade!

If you drive further north just about an hour from here, you begin to see glimpses of REAL trees. Trees that speak of tradition, custom, southern charm.  You see what Florida is supposed to look like.



Today I feel like writing a Walt Whitmanesque poem for Miami:

Give me the splendid silent sun sparkling through majestic oaks,

Give me a field where unmow'd grass undisturbed grows.

Give me trees laced with bridal veils of delicate white moss,

Give me an arbor, lining streets like a canopy,

Give me the beauty that once freely grew,

Give me back the heritage that Flagler once knew.

Give me golden at sunrise a park of flowers where I can walk and dream,

Give me afternoons sitting under a sheltering tree,

Give me a city where trees and nature can grow free.

Keep your buildings and businesses--your ceaseless traffic--your tiring schedules.

Keep your interminable eyes, and busy streets, and tiresome crowds.

Keep your mass-produced housing, your cookie cutter plans,

Keep your pointless, barren, manicured palms,

Keep your concrete, your construction, your modern ways.

Give me back porches and gardens, the romance we once loved.

Give me back undeveloped glory, untainted southern life.

Give me back unspoilt beauty, the beauty that Ponce saw thrive.

Give me back the richness of Florida, the Miami that once was.

South Beach: the view from Chicago

Chicago-based blogger, Emily at Emphasis Added!, recently took a vacation at South Beach with her family. She wrote that South Beach and Miami Beach are kid-friendly, noting its great parks, family-friendly dining venues, and lots of recreation. She remarked that her babies turned out to be beach-loving aquaphiles!

"I don’t know if it is the light (golden), smell (salty) or the way time somehow moves slower when at the water’s edge...I always figured once having kids, we would be relegated to the pool...But the gods of sun (and high SPF sunscreen), have smiled on me and blessed me with two beach loving babies!" -Emily

Those quiet days enjoying the sun, sand and pool with her family have made South Beach "very dear to me." Check out great photos from her trip to Miami on her blog!

Glad you enjoyed your time in sunny South Florida, Emily and fam!

How NYE is done in the MIA

Miami is known for its New Year's Eve. Where else could women dress in their LBDs without fearing wind, chill or frost? Even men are apt to be at their most dapper. It's quite the affair.

For the most part, most of Miami-Dade County opts for the swankiest venues for New Year's Eve. They RSVP at least a month in advanced for the poshest restaurants and lounges. Nothing wrong with that really, except prices for reserving a spot at any of these places skyrocket and you end up with a slim wallet by the end of the night.

South Beach is the "place to be" on December 31st.  Clear, starry skies and rustling palm trees overlook sidewalk restaurants serving up tidbits of this and that. People dressed to the nines walking around in packs, laughing, skipping, talking some sort of nonsense or other. It's a scene out of 1920s Paris. Fitzgerald would have a time of it observing Gatsby-esque behavior as he tipples his champagne.

Those who dread the "wild scene" by the beach opt for house parties. Same deal, just much more inexpensive.

Well, maybe.

 Just like Mr. Jay Gatsby, some like to impress. Hosts and hostesses will bring out the best their mini-bars have to offer and guests come in their newly purchased dress clothes (which will probably only be worn that one night, because you can't wear your new dress again if pictures of it will be splattered all over Facebook forever after).

But there is a third option for NYE. One that is much less cliche or overdone.

This third route includes avoiding the duties of morning-after cleanup at your place and you get to go out on the town--just not at South Beach.

South Miami and Coral Gables, unlike the Beach, still affords some of the lounge or bar experience without having to face traffic, parking issues, and being packed like a sardine at an overly-crowded spot.

Less obnoxious crowd, much more elbow room, and lots of opportunity to enjoy an evening with your amis.

Happy 2013, y'all!

Namaste, India!

Tandoori chicken changed my life.

My friends and I got together to try out some recipes from a Goan cookbook.

The result? Discovering the most amazing chicken I've ever tasted!

Marinating chicken overnight with those wonderful Indian spices really gives chicken a great kick. This is what chicken was always supposed to taste like. I can't wait to try other Indian recipes for chicken!

Along with Tandoori chicken we had spiced pulao ("rice"). It was such a great learning experience. I never knew things like onion and cloves (among other spices) could result in harmonious flavor. The flavor was, as my friend described it, "delicate." It was my first time cooking with basmati rice, and I plan on using more of it since it is so fun-looking!



And for dessert: gulaab jamuns. They're like doughnut holes bathed in delicately sweet, drippy syrup. It was wonderful! It had a cake-like flavor, and a soft smooth consistency. It reminded me a lot of the bunuelos my grandma makes--sweet fritters in sugary syrup, common in Spain and Spanish-influenced countries.


This reminiscence to bunuelos got me thinking of how there are a lot of similar foods in all parts of the world. For example, my Polish aunt's stuffed cabbage leaves (don't ask me what they're called) are also made in my grandma's home country where they are called ninos envueltos ("wrapped babies"). I also know they make them in France.

People are often too focused on each other's differences that they don't stop to realize we all have more in common than not.

My friends and I have taken on this International Culinary Journey to learn more about other cultures and their cuisine and traditions.



Indian night was wonderful. I learned that because Goa was a port city, many of the Portuguese traders that had come to India for their spices, had left bits of their culture behind. Goan cuisine has been influenced by Mediterranean cuisine, evident in some plates such as the pulao/arroz recipe that looks a lot like paella. Many Goans have Portuguese last names, and other traces of Portuguese culture. And I'm sure the Portuguese took many things from India with them, but I suppose I'll learn what they are when I discover Portuguese cuisine.

Our fantastic Indian night ended with two more Indian culture staples: henna tattoos and a Bollywood movie.

Bay, Breeze, and Freebies

It's difficult to do anything in the city when you're attempting to be frugal. You're trying to save up every penny you have to buy a new car, 'cause some obnoxious dude with his seat leaning back crashed into your car when he couldn't brake on time. And his insurance isn't responding.  So you can't spend on frivolities knowing that every.penny.counts.

What do you do on the weekend?

Your peers only think of going out to eat, or seeing a $20 movie (that will be exactly like every other movie you've seen), or they want to go shopping for yet another pair of skinny jeans.

What can you do?

Necessity is the mother of invention, but since we're not actually inventing anything, creativity is the name of the game. Luckily, it's not very difficult to do so when there is so much going on in the city. All that's required is a good attitude, a sense of adventure, and a bit of spontaneity.

A bit of research lead me to Cutler Bay area, where the big beautiful puffy clouds kissed the bay, palm trees extended a welcome over shaded benches, and the words "free admission today" made my heart (and wallet) smile.

I had been dreaming of going to the Deering Estate since...well, I can't remember how long since. It's a rare thing to get in free (I've been keeping my eye on it for years), but this summer they've had a couple of free days.

I explored the old houses (they don't make 'em like that anymore!), sauntered through mangrove in the nature trail, sat down to enjoy the salty breeze, and even ate free food.

What, free food?

I totally wasn't expecting that one, either. There was some children's event earlier in the day. Food vendors were packing up and bequeathed their superfluous goods to a very grateful young lass and her posse. Got free snow cones, free soda, and even free exotic fruit. The good folks from the Fruit and Spice Park were anxious to deposit their fruit on an obliging stomach: longans, jackfruit (not a fan), and wonderful star fruit--which I haven't tried since my preschool days. Oh, it was de-li-cious! It tastes like tropical sunshine. Seriously. What's more, I got to take an avocado home! Win!

It's the little things that make life grand. Grateful for a such a splendid day.

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Neo-Transatlantic Girl

Neo-transatlantic. That is what you become when you speak with a hybrid of different accents influenced by location, population and modernity. You don't exactly speak Southern, you don't speak urban, either; you're influenced by classic literature and you know a sufficient amount of foreign language phrases.

Welcome to my world.

I live in an eclectic society in an eclectic age. I am modern yet value classic manners; I live in one of the largest urban areas in the nation yet I prefer small-town charm; I strive to survive in a dog-eat-dog metropolis but I try to live out southern hospitality. Though English is my dominant language, I am multilingual and constantly interject French or Italian phrases in conversation. I read so much Jane Austen that I often forget the American pronunciation of "schedule," "recipe," and "premiere."

I watch so many foreign films that I can imitate that musical Indian accent from Bollywood flicks, I understand British jargon from watching Masterpiece Theatre, and all those classic black-and-white films are teaching me to polish my style, etiquette and sass.

Irish recipes may be the usual go-to for dinner, but I LOVE Greek cuisine. I think tea time should be resurrected, and in the mean time I enjoy espresso, smoothie or cafe-con-leche breaks.

  Is this nature or nurture? Perhaps it's both.

It's the resurgence of neo-transatlanticism. Grace and suavity for a new age.