A world of our own

Part two of Marlon's birthday bonanza was something I knew he'd always wanted, but would never buy for himself: a globe!

Google led me to Stanley & Livingstone, a small store selling a wide variety of globes, maps and travel guides in Den Haag. So I arranged to meet my German friend Robert, who lives there, for a quick coffee and a trip to the center of town to check out the store. "I'm meeting Robert for coffee," I told Marlon the day before his birthday. What he didn't know was that I was meeting Robert in Den Haag!

And what I didn't know was that Robert had his own ideas for my little visit. "We can bike to the beach, then back to town, then to the center of town for coffee," he suggested. "Er... maybe not," I replied, thinking of my fledgling repertoire of biking skills, which mostly consist of huffing, puffing and wobbling. "I'm a beginner! I've never biked here before!" 

Aba, di patatalo ang Aleman. "This is Holland," he replied. "You have to get on the horse—by that I mean the bike—sooner or later." So get on the bike I did, said bike being Robert's folding bike from Dutch mega chain store Hema... which, I might add, is not the easiest thing for beginners to practice on. 

Robert was pretty tough on me, I must say (must be the German influence). Even after witnessing my red-faced struggle to mount his bike and get it moving in a straight line, he didn't cave in when I wheedled, "I don't think this is going to work." (Marlon probably would have, though!) 

Instead, he wisely decided to not ride through city traffic and took me on a quick spin through the Haagse Bos (a nearby woods/park) to the Queen's Palace. And by quick, I mean 20-30 minutes... just about enough time for my legs to cramp, for my butt to become sore, and for me to wonder why I was pedaling frantically through the woods after an athletic, whip-cracking German tenor when all I really came here to do was buy a fracking globe! 

I did end up buying the globe that afternoon, and Robert gallantly carried it for me all the way back to the train station. (Maybe he noticed me hobbling and felt sorry for me!) At home, I hid the globe among the pile of moving boxes in the guest room, and tried to sit as normally as I could on my aching bum to keep the trip (and gift) a secret from Marlon... who was so puzzled as to why I seemed so tired that evening.

I went for a vintage-looking globe called the Renaissance globe, and chose a Dutch version because it was just so much prettier than the English one. I figured if we ever leave the Netherlands, it would be a nice reminder of our time here. I also chose a globe that lights up, because as my sister so wisely pointed out: "At least you can use it as a lamp, because are you really going to sit around in your spare time looking at a globe?" She has a point!

This globe has a soft warm glow that I like... and that Marlon does too!

The countries are up-to-date, but the globe is full of little details that hark back to the golden age of seafaring and exploration, such as sea monsters, nautical icons, and even the routes of famous explorers such as Drake and Magellan.

The secrecy, the sore legs and even the aching bum was all worth it when Marlon came home from his dinner at De Kas to see the globe lit up in the darkness of our living room. He loves his gift and I love it too!

Dinner at De Kas

Every year, whenever I ask Marlon what he wants for his birthday, he simply looks at me with a smile and says, "I have everything I want." (Cue melting heart.) This year, I decided to pour my entire month's (meager) freelance earnings into celebrating his Big 3-0 with a three-part gift. 

Part one was the birthday dinner. I took charge of choosing and booking a restaurant. After running through a shortlist of choices from my trusty Time Out Amsterdam, I chose Restaurant De Kas, which sits in the Frankendael Park in the Oost (East). 

De Kas is located in an old greenhouse that dates back to the 1920s, and used to belong to the Amsterdam Municipal Nursery. Slated for demolition, it was rescued in 2001 by Michelin-starred Dutch chef Gert Jan Hageman and converted into a restaurant. 

It also still houses a small nursery, where herbs, vegetables and flowers are grown for the restaurant. The owner now heads the nursery, and together with a team of chefs, cooks up a weekly set menu of three starters, a main course and a dessert that is based on the produce harvested that week. I was hooked by the concept and the location, and thought it would be great to try seasonal food, something completely new to us. Luckily, I was right and Marlon loved it!

Whenever Marlon and I go to a restaurant here, the first thing the server asks is if we'd like something to drink. This always throws us off, and we normally end up going blink blink at each other... before ordering water! And that always throws the server off, because it seems the appropriate response is to order an aperitif... something absent from our food culture, and thus something we know nothing about. 

I was determined to be prepared for this restaurant visit, and thanks to a very informative thread in Fodors' forums, now I know! The Fodors foodies suggest a number of liquors such as champagne (the most common aperitif), grappa (which I've tried and hate), port and sherry, but the suggestion I liked most was to ask if they have a house aperitif and try it.

At De Kas, the house aperitif is champagne with an herb from the garden, which that night was the lemon geranium flower. Ordering an aperitif is the kind of thing that makes me feel like a grown-up!

I enjoyed the seasonal meal, which came with white wine for the starter and a red for the mains. Everything was so fresh, so light and so... so spring! I always hear the judges on Top Chef judges food with words like "bright" and "clean", and for the first time I understood what that meant. 

The not-so-bright part of our evening was when Marlon found a piece of steel wire at the bottom of his dessert. Yup... steel wire. I'm not talking about steel wool na pangkuskos, I'm talking alambre here. Though it was only about 2-3 millimeters, Marlon called the attention of the server.

The response of the staff was admirable. Three different members of the staff came over to apologize. The last was the manager, who waived the bill on dessert and immediately investigated the kitchen. She brought over a large mesh strainer and explained to us that it had most likely come from that. As we were leaving, we passed by the kitchen and saw her chewing out a pair of chefs. I thought the staff handled it well and it wouldn't stop me from coming back. I'm just glad nothing bad happened and that Marlon managed to enjoy every last bite of his dessert!

Before we stepped out, we stopped by the herb garden for photos. Our server gave us a little tour and pointed out the most interesting plant in the garden: oyster leaf from Iceland, so called because... they taste like oysters. Seeing our skeptical expressions, she plucked two fat, fleshy leaves and gave them to us to chew on. And you know what? They really did taste like oysters!

Nights like these are what make me extra thankful to have freelance work. If not for my rakets, I wouldn't be able to treat him and make him feel happy and special, like he always does for me. And I'm even more thankful to have a husband who enjoys such simple pleasures and shows so much appreciation for every little thing. It may be his birthday, but I think I got the best gift of all. 

Overtoom outing

Running parallel to the Vondelpark and separating the south from the west, the long avenue called the Overtoom was highly recommended by my Dutch friend Merel (actually my former boss's wife, now living in Singapore) for great furniture finds. 

Still in search of the perfect armchair for our living room, Marlon and I spent Saturday afternoon walking up and down the entire length of the Overtoom. Although the perfect chair continued to elude us, it was still a fun way to explore a new neighborhood. I didn't feel like lugging my camera around that day, so all I've got here is a mixed bag of Hipstamatic and regular iPhone pictures. 

One of my favorite discoveries was (naturally) a dirt-cheap thrift shop, whose smell instantly made me feel at home by transporting me to the ukay-ukays of Cubao. (Ah, to be 20 years old with little to no disposable income!)

I must add these to my growing collection of creepy doll/child themed photos.

Most of the good stuff, though, already bore stickers marked verkocht (sold). Most heartbreaking was a caramel leather wing chair for €60 (!!!) that was being carried out as we were browsing; we had missed a fabulous bargain by just minutes!

This fuzzy green building was one of many in a neighborhood that reminded me so much of New York, but friendlier and more laid back. If we were to move to another neighborhood, I'd pick this one in a pinch. Aside from the brownstones, there's just something so relaxed and casual about this neighborhood that won me over. It was a gorgeous afternoon, and so many people were just sitting out on their front steps enjoying the sun. I even saw one guy sitting on his windowsill, playing the guitar, with his bare legs and feet dangling out onto the street.

We stopped for a late lunch at Cafe Wilhelmina, along one of the streets branching off from the Overtoom. It turned out to be a winner!

Marlon had a Dutch farmer style omelette that could probably feed an entire barangay of farmers back home, while I had a rich, creamy goat cheese cake thinly disguised as a sandwich. The party favor-type tinsel decorations are perfect for the experience: it's a party for your taste buds.

Next door was a thrift shop festooned on the outside with discarded 80s wedding dresses and bell-bottomed velvet jumpsuits trimmed with fake fur. Naturally, I had to step inside.

I didn't find anything for me, but I did find this tacked behind the mirror in the fitting area. Kiki on Steroids! It sounds like it could be an indie pop band, but it's actually an "exhibition about transgender and Internet presence. Girls who want to be boys and vice versa. Play with your gender and lots of DIY." (DIY???) The photo on the left looks like it could be taken from the childhood albums of any one of my scores of becky friends. Look closely, my beloved gheys... it could be you!

Weekend haul

What a weekend we've had! About 6 hours of walking on Saturday, divided between the Albert Cuypmarkt and the Overtoom, a long, busy avenue in the west of the city that runs parallel to the Vondelpark. Then even more walking on Sunday—this time to Ikea for a few things for the guest bedroom, the last frontier of mess in this house. 

It's Monday afternoon already and I still feel exhausted. I remember that after our lemonade Saturday spent exploring the city, Marlon said: "It's like we're on vacation every weekend." True... because I only seem to get this tired on vacation! But it's a good kind of tired, one that comes from hurling yourself into a new home and a new life. I'm not complaining. 

On long, busy weekends like this you tend to pick up a few things along the way. Please agree with me! I can't be the only shopaholic around here. Some of my favorite finds from the weekend:

A brand spankin' new leather jacket! Since the sun has been coming out more these days, I've been hankering to put my heavy wool coat away and switch to something lighter. I was in love with this blush-colored leather jacket on Net-a-porter, but after shopping around a bit, I realized I could get four leather jackets for the price of this one!

 On Saturday morning I stepped into the leather shop at Albert Cuypmarkt and found this soft tan beauty, which not only looked great and fit perfectly, but was reasonably priced as well. I ditched my wool coat at home and changed into it for our afternoon outing at the Overtoom (more on that later). I love it!

Also from Albert Cuypmarkt, I found gray linen lampshades to replace the white lampshades we use in the living room. The lamps are actually ex-hotel lamps, and used to be in our bedroom. The white lampshades had started to look really grotty and we almost left the lamps in Singapore! It's a good thing we didn't; I guess all they needed were some new shades.

From a dirt-cheap thrift shop on the Overtoom, two huge old woven sacks that were once mailbags from Hungary. How random is that? I love that I can find stuff like that here! I still have to figure out what to do with them though: maybe new covers for the big pillows on the daybed, or even upholstery for a chair. 

Pantone box from Friday Next along the Overtoom, for my many files and papers. They had other colors in stock, but I liked this Honeysuckle one.

From Ikea, a small lamp with a clear glass base for the hallway. Marlon actually hated it... until we put it on top of the hallway cabinet and switched the light on. "I was wrong, you were right, it looks great," he admitted. Ah, victory. Maybe that was the best part of the weekend right there.

Lock 'em up

Marriage is about compromise. Some people seem to think this is a dirty and miserable word that hammers the final nail into the coffin of all fun and individuality (in which the first nail was, duh, marriage). Uh, no. It's not so bad, y'all. Sometimes it's even effortless, when two seemingly unrelated desires collide in a happy accident. And when that happens while shopping... well, that must be what they call wedded bliss.

What Marlon wanted (has always wanted): a vintage trunk or chest. Something heavy and old, with a lock. Preferably made of metal. Every time we come across one, he strokes it and says, "I've always wanted one of these." Since he rarely hankers for vintage things (that's my domain), I did consider every trunk and chest we found in our furniture forages... but none of them seemed to work for our house.

What I wanted: to never let our DVDs and CDs see the light of day. Aren't piles of DVDs and CDs actually quite ugly? I mean, unless you have a theaterrific collection or a thousand-dollar designer shelf that makes them look like an art installation, I think these soon-to-be-relics are best hidden from view. 

Compromise found!

... In the form of these two vintage lockboxes from Raw Materials on Rozengracht. Marlon was really bowled over by these.

And as for me... did you think I really needed to be convinced? An invisibility cloak for the DVDs that's turquoise, vintage and industrial? Hell yeah.

Row row Rozengracht

Marlon and I have been spending a lot of time indoors, what with all the home improvement going on. After all the painting and arranging and unpacking and stapling (I almost said sewing, but none of that took place), I began to feel Amsterdam pulling me outdoors. "Did you move to Amsterdam or did you just move to your new apartment? Get your lazy ass out here and start exploring!" it seemed to shout. (Why does the voice of Amsterdam in my head oddly sound like Sassy Gay Friend?)

So post-market on Saturday, explore we did, still in the context of home improvement. I took copious notes from my copy of VTWonen and noticed that a lot of home stores were clustered along Rozengracht, in the Jordaan. Fortified by a fantastic lunch of pork chops fresh from the market, we headed up and West.

Walking from Frederik Hendrikstraat to Rozengracht, we came upon an alley filled with graffiti, which is something I always stop for and take pictures of. 

This looks like it could be a Banksy. I've been lucky enough to spot Banksy's work in Brussels, San Francisco and now in two places in Amsterdam. The other one was along the Prinsengracht on my way to Westermarkt.

Of course, the Indian half of me had to pose with Ganesh, who seems to have added graffiti to his list of divine skills.

Poor Ganesh was branded a fake. A copy of which artist, I wonder?

Love this, a bitter word in candy colors. I imagine this was the result of a Mean Girls-type catfight or a really bad breakup.

Our first stop along Rozengracht was the wonderfully styled Raw Materials, which marries the two design phases of my life so far: vintage/industrial...

... and Indian/ethnic. Check out the kilim-upholstered benches. Mom lent me several large, old kilim rugs which lasted through most of my Indian decorating phase. When we moved here, I sent them back to her, marking the end of said phase.

I bought a colorful printed letter "D" from Anthropologie last year, so Marlon decided it was time he got himself an "M." You know, gender equality and all that.

Then we stopped by De Kasstoor and Wonen to ogle their gorgeous, but ultimately way too pricey, design furniture. Their little chair garden out back reminded me a bit of the sculpture garden atop SF MoMA.

We found these metal chairs from the same maker as our vintage dining chairs. Yay! But at €500 for these two display pieces (may discount na yan kasi used!), we had to leave them behind. Boo.

At Nordic New, Marlon and I came face to face with the Block Lamp (previously on my bedroom wishlist) and decided that it was indeed a work of art, but ultimately not suited to our (messy) lifestyle. We did order bright yellow pendant lamps from Muuto for the dining room, all while being trailed by this friendly auburn doggie. It says much about the behavior of this dog that he's allowed to spend time amongst so many impeccably designed Scandinavian goods (a number of which were very breakable and very pricey).

At the end of Rozengracht was the Westerkerk, heralded by trippy colours from a mile away. I will return for a closer inspection of this church one day.

Nearby was Kitsch Kitchen, which really tests your threshold for bright colors and, well, kitsch. Marlon was squirming from the moment we walked in. "Narrow your field of vision. Try not to look at everything all at the same time," I advised. And there was really so much to look at, from the pinata party dangling from the ceiling...

To kitschier versions of our hammered tin mirror...

To multicolored iterations of a familiar sight. Yes, folks, the humble banig has arrived. And I'm not talking about the singer.

All window-shopped out, we stopped at a small strip of park overlooking the canal at Nassaukade.

Marlon went to get us some cups of hot tea, which we sipped while sitting on a bench, chatting, occasionally playing catch with a nearby bull terrier named Bugsy (yes, naging close kami), and generally marveling at our good fortune.

At 6-ish we set off for dinner at the nearby Frederik Hendrikstraat, where we started walking. We passed this interesting sculture near the bridge at Nassaukade. I love how jaunty and light it feels, like he's about to blow away in the wind.

If you've had a wonderful day, I would highly recommend ending it in an equally wonderful way. The Tartufata at Yam Yam Pizzeria makes this possible with mozzarella, gorgonzola, mascarpone, parmesan, rocket and truffle oil layered generously on a pizza crust that's wood-fired to perfection. Yam yam indeed.

Saturday lemonade

Bright and early Saturday morning, Marlon and I set off for the Vondelpark to join a beginners' running group that I had signed us up for. I was thrilled at the prospect of meeting new people and making running, a rather detested activity of mine, more fun and exciting. Having roughly sketched out a route on 9292ov and Google Maps, I thought we were set.

But no. It was not to be. My excitement turned into horror as I realized the route we had taken was one. Big. Circle. A circle that led back to our neighborhood. Yep, we got lost. Hopelessly lost. And there was no way we could figure out a new route and make it to Vondelpark in time. 

"Let's just go home, eat popcorn, and watch a movie," suggested Marlon, in an attempt to cheer me up. (Prime example of the kind of activity that has gotten us into this shape.) So we hopped on Tram 24 back to our house... until I realized it was the same tram that takes me to Albert Cuypmarkt every week. Marlon, who loves markets, food and cooking, had never been there, so... "Why don't we take this tram all the way to the market?" He thought it was a great idea. Go me!

So we spent Saturday morning walking around the market, and it felt like the best thing ever. Half of Amsterdam seemed to agree, judging from all the Saturday shoppers milling about in the sunshine. No mall zombies here—everything looked and felt so alive, and both our moods were instantly transformed. Marlon was overjoyed to finally find the butcher, and bought pork chops and a whole lamb shoulder to roast that weekend. (It's the first time we've had red meat at home since we moved!)

Aside from the food stalls, Albert Cuypmarkt also has a few furniture and lighting stores. I usually ignore these stores when I go on my weekly market runs, because it would just be more fun to have Marlon around. We finally got to go into some of them, and found...

... a low, comfy gray armchair that's exactly the kind of thing I want for the living room...

... a small sparkly chandelier that would look nice in the bedroom...

... and beautiful silver filigree lamps that we could picture in the hallway or living room. Pero surprise! We didn't buy anything. Canvassing muna. I feel like such an adult when I can resist a strong impulse to buy!

Marlon indulged me in a little window shopping while he sat outside... kinda like this gigantic terrier (how's that for a segue?). It was exactly like a normal terrier except it was about the size of an Akita. I've never seen those before.

We stopped for appeltarts (a.k.a. good ol' apple pie) and cappuccinos at a corner cafe called Flamingo. Across the street was another cafe with a huge crowd—not because it was any better, but because the sun was shining there. "I bet all the people move over here after lunch, when the sun shifts position," I remarked, a guess confirmed by the barista.

Before we hopped back on the tram home, Marlon bought me an armful of pink carnations (which you've seen in a previous post). "Lemons into lemonade," he remarked on our way home. "What a way to turn this morning around."