Guac Guac Guac

Wholly guacamole! 

Dos Caminos serious have the tastiest guac I have ever eaten. Perfectly fresh with delicious chunks of avocado served with warm, just-cooked tortilla chips. Ahh my tummy is rumbling just thinking of it.

Since being in New York I try to avoid chain restaurants as there are a million and one independent restaurants which I just need to try. But I do make the exception for Dos Caminos. Especially when it comes to brunch. 

Any brunch dish comes with tea/coffee AND a cocktail. By cocktail I mean the frozen prickly pear margarita which is just out. Just like a grown up slush puppy this drink tastes divine but is dangerously alcoholic so take caution if you're having more than one.

Cutie pies's thoroughly enjoying their first Dos brunch experience. 

Yeah I like to play with my food (sorry mummy).






Who needs food after all the guac (and extra chips). 
Yeah these three little piggies do!
C & I went for the Dos Caminos Ranchero whilst E had the mexican style eggs benedict. 

Think. You're typical benny with a dash of chipotle in an XXL portion size. Gosh I love Amuuuuurica!

Not the most photogenic of meals. But hey, the best of them aren't.

And when that ooey gooey yoke burst. Ahhh. Perfection.

And of course a portion of rice and refried beans to top off any Mexican meal.

Click here to find a Dos Caminos near you. 

Despite the mass food consumption and almost having to unbutton my jeans, I couldn't resist a little outfit post on the cobbles of the Meat Packing District. 

One thing that's so great at having friends the same size as you, is being able to share clothes. This gorgeous little peplum top is E's all the way from sunny Sydney. Worn with Topshop jeans, boots & sunnies, Urban Outfitters hat & Mulberry bag.

And now for your daily soundtrack to add that little something to your hump day vibe.

Memorial Day Weekend

In the US, Memorial Day Weekend marks the unofficial start to the summer, and where better to celebrate the sunshine than out East..?

Time flies when you're having fun. I can't believe it was already last weekend I was living the highlife in the Hamptons. Thankfully this 4-day work week has made it a somewhat more bearable transition.

Packing up my trusty Longchamp (seriously I do not know what I would do without this wonderful weekender come Mary Poppins bag) and catching a train at the crack of dawn, it wasn't too long before I got to Greenpoint where I hopped on a cute little ferry to my first stop, Shelter Island. 

Shelter Island, not to be confused with the water-bound mental hospital featured in Scorsese's film Shutter Island: this little island is rather quaint to say the least. Think Hurlingham Club meets Lake Como. 

The sheltered bay provided the perfect setting for a sail. 

Having my little titanic moment at the bow of the boat in the cutest little Sperry boat shoes.

Now I would like to say that this snap is mine, sadly I was a little busy taking selfies when G was taking this dramatic shot of the main sail. Phoooaaarrrr!

Despite the minimal winds and the fact we had to motor back into the harbour, we had an absolute sail of a time (geddit) on board the gorgeous yacht. Telling tales of worldly travels and hearing all about the old English history of the surrounding Isles. 

Stopping only briefly in the yacht club we hopped in the car, roof down and headed to the South Fork.

What a drive. Through the beautiful countryside which reminded oh so much of holidaying in Cornwall. Vineyards, stables, farmers markets with the loveliest little American houses all made of white wooden panels with cute window shutters and huge patriotic American flags. It was dream-like. Something out of a movie. 

Bring wine to a house that has two wine cellars might be a little wasted. So being the token Brit and a self confessed summer time addict, of course I had to bring a big old bottle of Pimms. For some bizarre reason, Sprite or even regular sparkling lemonade is pretty hard to come by out east, but to no avail. The oh so fancy Lorina Pink Lemonade definitely added that perfect Hamptons touch to my normal blend - oh and the bottle of Prosecco we threw in too also helped.

I was revelling in all things Gatsby at sunset. 

Just look at that view.

A night of the most delicious food and scrumptious s'mores. We gleefully parted the night away till the early hours. 

No traffic, honking horns, police sirens, I slept like an absolute baby in my beachy bedroom.

#hotdogsorlegs

The absolute eeriest fog over Flying Point Beach due to the cold winds coming off the Altantic meeting with the warm weather on shore. Reminiscent somewhat of a John Grisham thriller.

Back in Sag Harbour.

With the sun setting and the bay at low tide.

Well, what more idyllic setting for a run?

Green on green on green.

Catching a few rays before heading back to the Island.

What a fabulous weekend. Getting back to the city in the 30°c muggy heat was not pleasant to say the least. So lucky to have spent my first MDW making new friends and having an absolute blast in the Hamptons, and a big thank you to G for inviting me. 

The whole New Englandy vibe that the Hamptons boasts, made me miss London just a little or maybe quite a lot. Just guess I'm going to visit home soon. 

New York Ephemera

What I'm Wearing: Zara Coat & Shirt, Topshop Sweater, Levi's Jeans & Office Shoes.

New York is ephemeral. 

The highs, the lows, all lasting for a matter of moments. I often feel like a mayfly in this city. One day dining in New York's finest restaurants rubbing shoulders with the likes of Leo DiCaprio in TAO Downtown and the next sitting in Starbucks for an entire day fully utilising the unlimited wifi and free refills. Sometimes it's hard to keep up. What seem like days pass by in a matter of hours and every mere morsel of time here is spent keeping busy. Perhaps that's why I love this city so much. The never ending list of things to do. With nothing but a moment wasted. 

'YOUR eyes that once were never weary of mine

Are bowed in sotrow under pendulous lids,

Because our love is waning.'

And then She:

'Although our love is waning, let us stand

By the lone border of the lake once more,

Together in that hour of gentleness

When the poor tired child, passion, falls asleep.

How far away the stars seem, and how far

Is our first kiss, and ah, how old my heart!'

Pensive they paced along the faded leaves,

While slowly he whose hand held hers replied:

'Passion has often worn our wandering hearts.'

The woods were round them, and the yellow leaves

Fell like faint meteors in the gloom, and once

A rabbit old and lame limped down the path;

Autumn was over him: and now they stood

On the lone border of the lake once more:

Turning, he saw that she had thrust dead leaves

Gathered in silence, dewy as her eyes,

In bosom and hair.

'Ah, do not mourn,' he said,

'That we are tired, for other loves await us;

Hate on and love through unrepining hours.

Before us lies eternity; our souls

Are love, and a continual farewell.' 

William Butler Yeats

I'm Leaving On A Jet Plane

Spontaneity is key. 

My life just wouldn't be complete without it. 

Perhaps when it does come to me however, a little more planning might be a better idea, as its near impossible for me to stick to a plan thats made more than a couple days in advance. But lets add that to the news year's resolutions pile. 

Last Thursday afternoon I was asked to go skiing on the weekend. My lovely friends are just as sporadic with plans as I am, and what sounds like a great idea often moulds into something different altogether. Nevertheless I decided to head out to pick up some last minute ski gear. Well. Just incase.

Getting the go ahead on friday morning and told that I was going to be flying in none other than a private jet. Yes thats right. I couldn't quite believe it. A  PRIVATE JET! Well I couldn't stop jumping around and grinning like an over excited child.

With my flight leaving at the crack of dawn I decided to forget sleep and just power on through after after a boogie at PHD in the Dream Hotel.

Watching the sunrise bright and early at the Long Island Airport. Just speechless. 

Forget flight mode. On your own jet, anything goes. I was snapping and instagramming away to my hearts content.

With it only being a short flight I was planning on staying up and looking at the spectacular views of the low flying plane but after about 30 minutes I was out. The lack of sleep had got a little too much for me. Not for long however, with the ridiculous turbulence waking me up in an instance, to see nothing but a obscenely thick fog surrounding us at every angle. How the pilot could see was beyond me, as I clutched to my friend next to me thinking that I could seriously be a goner in a matter of moments. At last breaking out of the clouds and rapidly swerving to avoid almost crashing straight into a mountain, we heard rather comforting words from the pilot, "Oh where did that mountain come from?! Haa". Landing soon after, I was a little glad to have my own two feet back safe on the ground. 

Time to hit the piste!

(sadly American's do not use the terms; "piste", "chalet" or "après-ski" so I was determined to use them as many times as I possibly could, in order to get it into their regular mountain vocabulary)

Sitting on the ski lift with these two munchkins we felt like a rather global bunch representing Australia, London and New York all together on one ski-lift sandwich.

Wrapped up in my Canada Goose jacket via Otte and Kate Spade accessories I was ready to hit Okemo mountain.

This was the first time for me skiing in the USA and I must admit, I have been rather spoilt with the Alps but Okemo certainly gave it a run for its money (with the help of a few little snow cannons of course). But a big mountain with some really great Black routes too, I could woosh and zoom like a little ski bunny, without the tiny trains of super speedy European children's shooting past you at 100mph.

Dinner time!
Quick turn around into full après-ski attire we headed off to Simon Pearce's restaurant in the heart of Vermont. 

Turning up obnoxiously late after mistakingly going to one of his retail locations instead of the restaurant. I decided to keep the photos to a minimum to avoid irritating the rest of our party any further.

The food was absolutely brilliant. Of course I had to have the cheese soup. Well I was in Vermont and they are famous for their cheddar. I was a little dubious at first, expecting some artery clogging type fondue thing, but after a little persuasion from the group and of course reassurance that it was not going to give me a heart attack, I went for it was certainly pleasantly surprised. 

Waking up on day 2. 
The mountain looked like this...

Snow - perfect

Visability - nil

Certainly not the ideal skiing conditions. 

So instead we hopped in the car and headed to the beautiful town of Woodstock - which is famously known for having some of the most beautiful covered bridges in the whole of America.

To me this is the picture of America that comes to mind in the winter. The bold white houses, grand gates and a glowing fire in the window. Well this was an extremely grand house and had many fireplaces all glowing away in their full wintery glory. But then again this was no house. The Woodstock Inn was our next stop on 'explore rural America', so of course I ordered a gin & tonic. 

A few drinks later we headed off for dinner at Bentley's for some real American home cooking sort of grub. Perfectly delicious with that warming home-cooked feel. With the most quaint decorations.

Post dinner we hopped in the car and headed off to our friend's chalet in Mount Snow. Wooden decor, fireplace, hot tub the works. 

What's a ski weekend without a dip in the hot tub. Oh and wine. Copious amounts of wine. 

Could you possibly think of a better way to start off the day? Topped off with some of Vermont's own maple syrup. Yummmmm.

A fabulous weekend. Old friends, new friends, private jets and hot tubs. Shouldn't every weekend be spent like this? 

Hope you all have a fabulous weekend!