Barramundi in Vietnam

I love Sundays. Most people see it as the last day of freedom before going back to school, work, life... but for me, it's my lazy day-- I get to sleep in (til 7:45 today! yahoo!), stay in my pajamas all day and leisurely read the NYT Sunday edition over many cups of tea while fantasizing about my "if I could do anything in the entire world, what would it be" job: a travel/food writer (okay-- so, maybe there's one other job that I would love too... a back-up singer; but I figure that I could do both, because if I were a back-up singer, surely I'd be traveling to a plethora of fantastic cities around the world).

Ah, the NYT travel section... a myriad of places to dream about going, and all the exotic foods to eat. On the eve of the Olympics, of course there's ample coverage of Italy (a place I have been, and a place that I love... although I don't think I've seen a country that I don't like, or couldn't relish in the joy of simply being in a new place...). This week highlights Rome, and in particular, the key places to see (Forum Romana, Vatican, Spanish Steps), places to connect (Easy Internet Cafe-- hey! I've been there!), and of course, places to eat (fresh produce, gelato and delectable pasta, oh my!). When I return to Italy, one of the three phrases I perfected there will do me well: Cono piccolo con panna, per favore (Small ice cream cone with whipped cream, please).

Then there's the $1,000 meal in Hanoi. $1,000?!? It must be AMAZING! I must try it... surely, on my next trip to Vietnam (err... first trip to Vietnam), I'll definitely have enough of a disposable income to warrant a $1,000 meal. Blackened barramundi filet... now doesn't that sound like an absolute must-try? Then there's fondue of every kind in Geneva; and a Milk Bar in Sarajevo. Even the Ritz Carlton in the Cayman Islands caught my eye, if not for anything but the food. And I am not a Carribbean-vacationer-type-o'-gal (never been; absolutely no desire to go). But there's one thing that could get me there: promises of palate-pleasing wonders.

You'd think that with my ode to food going on here that I'm about 300 pounds. I'm not... I just have a great enthusiasm for food however, ample workouts and religious yoga-taking keeps me in check. But from the corner taco stand to the most upscale abode, I am a self-proclaimed foodie. From apple bretzels and wienerschnitzel in Salzberg, the most amazing red curry in Sydney, fior di latte (con panna, of course!) in Firenze to Rigo's Tacos in L.A., egg salad with bacon sandwiches at Eisenberg's in NYC and lest we forget tuna with Ruffles potato chips at the 'Nob in Po-Town. There's rarely been a travel experience in which I can't recount, in scary detail, all of my food memories.

Travel-food writer. Seriously.

(Oh-- and in recent weeks, India has been the darling of the travel press, but there was nary a mention in today's paper. It was however, spotlighted in yesterday's WSJ-- and, by the way, when did the WSJ get all fluffy?? In any case, with two of my friends going on a month-long expat assignment to Bangalore in March, it further fuels my itch to go to India. Oh, and the food in the land that smells like spices... or is that Morocco? Ah... Moroccan food... But that's an awfully big trip to plan...)