Take a break from the hustle and bustle of Disneyland Parc and head in for one of the “closest, safest shaves” on Main Street U.S.A.
Waffles. Beer. Chocolate. Fries. There was no way I wasn’t going to love this place.
Belgium, a tiny country chock full of everyone’s favorite things and whose capital was less than two hours by train from Paris. For those doing the math, that meant that I could start my day with croissant and middle and end it with smorgasbord of carb-loaded goodness. Where do I sign up and why has it taken me this long to figure this out?! I blame you internet.
Half a day and one hostel check in later, we were in Brussels. Our first stop upon arrival was, of course, for waffles. The second, was for frites. (We are nothing if not dedicated to our craft.)
Any search for ‘best fries in Brussels’ will lead you to Maison Antoine, so that’s where our quest for the perfect fry began. Who were we to argue with the masses? We were but lowly peasants on a search for deep fried truth.
April in Paris. I’m going to go ahead and say there’s nothing better. The sun is shining, the subtle scent of springtime blooms wafts slowly through the air, the lines for Peter Pan reach over an hour. Oh yeah, April in Paris is one of the absolute best things to happen this side of the Atlantic, hands down.
At home in the States I did a lot of online shopping. The sales were better, they always had my size and I could try on everything without that fun house mirror in the dressing room assaulting my eyeballs. This also meant however, that I was a serial returner. As in, there were times I could be mistaken for UPS.
Since moving to France I have returned one item. One. One item in over a year and a half. And I remember exactly what it was- black pants from Zara with tags and receipt and an incredibly apologetic look on my face.
The gym and I have never gotten along. All the snorting, the smelly locker rooms, the music so loud you can’t hear your own damn playlist. I’m sorry, but pumping Justin Beiber through every speaker doesn’t make me want to run any faster. The only reason I’m upping my speed is so that it will be over sooner. That’s it.
Because the thought of running in place for an hour is so miserable to me, you’d think I would have looked into fun group classes or something. But I figured the perky women on either side of my elliptical with perfect hair and NOT SWEATING AT ALL is enough of a knock on my self esteem. No need to throw in 30 more of them as I flail about in spandex and 360 degrees of mirrors. Dignity? What dignity?
The Lucky Nugget Saloon is a hybrid quick service/table service restaurant located at the edge of Frontierland in Disneyland Park. Serving up a rotating menu of BBQ ribs, fish fillets, angus and chicken burgers, this location also offers many of the special menus that pop up seasonally around DLP.
On a recent visit to Walt Disney World we found ourselves in need of something refreshing following a thrilling time at the Hall of Presidents. As we promenaded through Adventureland we realized there was only one thing that could possibly follow animatronic Abe Lincoln – a non-dairy fruity frozen soft-serve snack.
But wait, there are two non-dairy fruity frozen soft-serve snacks to choose from. Which one should we choose. Dole Whip or Citrus Swirl? Should we try both? No, that’s ridiculous. Why? Because….
Both have their merits. Both have their faults. Well actually that second part isn’t true – both are wonderful. But the question is, who is more wonderfuler?
Obviously we had to take matters into our own hands. Using precise scientific methodology we’ve created the five key components most important in determining the validity of each of these soft swirled mounds of goodness to once and for all declare a winner.
Welcome to the Disneydome.
Fraises des bois éclair.
The absolute best thing you’ll eat this month is without a doubt this little number from L’Eclair de Génie (a play on words which means flash of genius and is completely merited). Small but mighty, these tiny fruits translate to mean strawberries of the woods or wild strawberries, but you would be remiss, mes amis, to think that this is just a strawberry eclair.
Fraises des bois look like strawberries but taste like little drops of heaven. I think the words we used to describe our first foray into these petites mystery fruits went something like “best mmMMMMMmmmm thing MMmmmm in MmmmMMMM world nomnomnom” as we looked at each other with knowing glances but unable to form real sentences for fear a crumb would escape our lips. What was that sorcery that just occurred in our mouths?!? It was bliss. The airy choux filled with fraises des bois cream and dotted with three perfectly gold flecked fraises: magical. Like a little pastry unicorn of happiness.
Your eyes may glaze over as you enter the holy grail of eclairs but do not let those rows upon rows of gorgeous treats deter you from your mission. Fraises des bois are only in season a few short months and your duty is to consume all of them. Trust me, it’s worth it.
L’Eclair de Génie. 4th arrondissement.
When we first got to Paris we thought, “No problem. We’ve got this.” Acclimating to a city you LOVE shouldn’t be too hard and even if it is hard, it’s the fun hard, you know? The kind of hard where it (almost) doesn’t matter that your ground floor apartment wafts in the sweet smell of garbage every time the sun shines because you have a ground floor apartment and the sun is shining in Paris! Just drown your sorrows in one of these and cry me a river, amiright? Because the operative word in there was PARIS.
There are few things that I like more than breakfast. Pizza is one of them. Sweatpants might be another. French pastries are probably also up there. There’s a pattern forming.
Anyways, suffice it to say breakfast is awesome. It’s the meal equivalent of Liam Neeson. It’s the most important meal of the day blah blah, but until the onset of brunch culture and your eventual discovery of bottomless mimosas, you didn’t really care all that much. Coffee. That was your breakfast. Think about- did you even know how much you needed Bryan Mills and his very particular set of skills until Taken? Now can you even imagine your life without him? I rest my case.