One of the things I really enjoy about Twitter is getting a 140 character dose of laughter therapy throughout my day.  Just a little phone-sized snippet of fun that makes me smile.

Here are the funniest and most interesting things I saw this week ...

1) From @MyMelange:

"OMG. Check out this photo of what NOT to wear on a plane! Holy-fashion-nightmare-Batman!!" (Photo)

(I'm not responsible if it temporarily causes you to go blind.)

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2) From @TravelDudes:

Whoa.  No toilet tweeting please!

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3) From @AdventureGirl:

"Looking 4 sum "kitschy" follows from across the globe? Check out @big_ben_clock 4 LONDON time & @riverthames 4 tide info!"

Both are great useful travel tools!

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4) From @EliteTravelGal:

Hmm.  I'd get sneaky about swiping breakfast too!

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5) From @Vagabondish:

"I found my calling. Going to be the first man to circumnavigate the globe on this bad boy - http://bit.ly/bNAAWw. Freakin' sweeeeeeeeet!"

Hilarious caption for that photo!

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6) From @santafetraveler:

Love the hash tag!

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7) From @BudgetTraveller:

Some Traveler's Night In (#TNI) humor ... didn't know I needed to add "Man" to my travel list.

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8) From @UKLAGirl:

A little #Traveler's Night In (#TNI) Gross Out!

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9) From @AvWeekBenet:

"The World's Best Airline Passenger Complaint Letter ... http://ow.ly/2xjhq"

Hmm.  I should write a thing or two to Sir Richard.  Though, it wouldn't be complaints!  LOL.

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10) From Maranda on Facebook ... an airline with a sense of humor:

Said by flight attendant:  "There may be 50 ways to leave your lover, but there are only 4 ways out of this airplane." -- Kulula Airlines

--Rachelle

a.k.a @TravelBlggr

If heaven on earth existed ... in my mouth ... it would be this.  The land of milk and honey.  Sinfully sweet and smelling of roses.  I encountered this delightful desert during a dinner at a trendy Indian restaurant, Nirvana Beverly Hills, with other bloggers ... so they didn't mind at all when I whipped out my phone at the dinner table to tweet that I was having some sort of delicious Oh-My-Gawd experience.    It was like falling in love for the first time and I wanted to proclaim it to the World.  You must be thinking that I'm over-reacting to a simple meal.  I admit, it could have been the sensual atmosphere of Nirvana which is candle-lit and oozing not-so-subtle hints of Kama Sutra with their artwork and menu descriptions.  Appetizers are called "Foreplay."  Entrees ... "Loss of Innocence."  And dessert ... "Sensuous Pleasures, Sin committed, but quickly forgotten."  Whoa.  I have to remember, this is Beverly Hills.

But I do believe that even if I wasn't under the glittery influence of LA, upon savoring this treat I still would have closed my eyes, left the earth and had a moment.  The taste of sweet roses ... not the scent of a flower, but it's flavor.  By the time I regained my senses the menus had already been lifted from the table and I didn't know my new lover's name.  I tweeted that I was having a sweet honey and rose flavored dessert.  Someone immediately responded, "you must be having Gulab Jamun."

I tried saying that out loud, but it sounded like I was trying to speak with a mouthful.  (Try it.  Right now.  Go ahead.  Say ... Guuuulaaaab Jaaamuuun.  See?)   So I just made a mental note of the roses and honey.  Later when I went to post about it again, in my insecurity of the language, I described them as honey rose donut holes.  Big mistake.  HUGE!  My Middle Eastern friends quivered at the comparison.  "Gulab Jamun are not donut holes!" they proclaimed.  But ... uhm ... they certainly look like donut holes?  Fancy rose scented ones at that!  Wikipedia describes them as waffle balls.   I once called them O.M.G. balls.  That didn't quite sound right either.  So let's just learn how to pronounce it correctly.  According to MacMillan Dictionary, it's /ɡʊˌlɑːb ˈjɑːmən/.

And here's how to make them ...

Start with some honey, powdered milk, and roses.

I actually used the roses to make tea.  Nirvana did give me a recipe for making rose water at home (posted below).  But I found it at my local grocer in the spice section as a natural gourmet flavoring ... or perfume?

The dry milk I was a little iffy about.  One of my chef friends suggested using  all whole ingredients (i.e. nothing powdered or dried).  So I looked up other recipes online for gulab jamun and all used powdered milk.  So I decided to stick to the recipe.  Doesn't look appetizing ... but works like a charm!

Add a little baking powder ...

As if the powdered milk wasn't enough ... add to that 2 1/2 cups of heavy cream.  Yeah ... these donuts ...I mean .... gulab jamun, are rich and creamy little cakes.

Mix together with a wooden spoon.  It gets a little sticky.

I was unprepared to have my photo taken ... against the only wall in my kitchen that is unpainted and undecorated.  Hair tossed in a clip and 70's ring-T on.  Ew.  At least the apron is flirty.  I'm actually standing on a stool to gain some leverage on this counter island for mixing.  Increasing my height by 8 inches also helps me channel my inner Julia Child.  But I digress ... back to the recipe ...

Cover your hands in flour and roll dough into 1 inch balls.

Confession: here's where I went wrong the first time around.

I'm a runner, so I don't cook/eat/prepare fried foods.  Ever.  I don't have a deep fryer.  I'm also the kind of cook that sometimes just throws from the hip and says, "let's try it!" without properly researching.

Google is at my fingertips.  I should have looked up "heating" and "boiling points" of oil.

But instead I followed the advice of Julia Child, "The only real stumbling block is fear of failure. In cooking you've got to have a 'What the hell?' attitude."

So, "what the heck!"  Let's pour some oil in a pan and turn the temperature up to high!   (By the way, I don't recommend this!)

And the first one goes in ...

(See ... that oil doesn't look hot, does it?)

Pop!  Crack!  Sizzle ...

Insta-Burn!

This happened in all of 3 seconds.  Seriously.  The recipe calls for them to reach a "rich mahogany color."  But somehow I don't think this fits that description.  Especially since it happened so fast that I doubt the inside cooked.  So ... we turned the heat to medium and waited a bit.  Learn from my mistake.

After the oil was at a sufficient "cook-instead-of-burn" temperature , we started getting some golden brown results.  PS ... my whole house now smells like fried gulab jamun from the burn experiment.

Meanwhile ...

The syrup is being made.

This is similar to a simple syrup used in drink making ... only with rose water and honey.  Bring sugar and water to a boil, then add 2 tablespoons of rose water.  I also added two tablespoons of honey after it cooled.

Pour the sugar water over the gulab jamun and let it soak in.

Gulab Jamun

Rose-Flavored Cakes in Sugar Syrup

from the kitchen of Nirvana Beverly Hills

Makes 25-30 Balls

The Sugar Syrup:

2 pounds sugar

2 quarts plus 1 pint water

2 tablespoons rose water***

The Dough:

3 cups dry milk

1 cup flour

3 tablespoons baking powder

2 ½ cups heavy cream

3 pints of oil for deep frying

Make the sugar syrup first: In a heavy saucepan bring the sugar and water to a boil, then let it thicken by cooking over medium heat for about 20 minutes. Add the rose water and keep the syrup warm at a low simmer.

In a large bowl mix the ingredients for the dough thoroughly to make a still batter. Let mixture sit for 10-15 minutes to set. Take a pinch of dough a little smaller than a golf ball and roll it between your palms to round it into a neat ball.

Repeat with the rest of the dough.

In a wok or heavy skillet, heat the oil over high heat until a haze begins to form, just before it begins to smoke. Carefully add the balls until the surface is covered. (If necessary cook the balls in more than one batch.) With a large spoon, start turning the balls just as they begin to take on color. After about 3 minutes, turn the heat down to medium-low, and continue to turn the balls until they acquire a rich mahogany color.

When the sweetmeats have achieved a luscious, deep color, turn the heat up to high for 2-3 minutes to add still more color and to firm the crust. Drain onto paper towels.

When drained, put the balls into a large bowl and pour the sugar syrup over them. Let them rest until the syrup reaches room temperature. They can now be eaten – but they will taste even better if allowed to “tighten” until the next day.

NOTE: Gulab Jamun will keep a week or more, stored in the refrigerator.

***How to make Rose Water:

5 large roses

2 quarts cool (not iced) water

Wash roses thoroughly in cold water. Pick off all the petals, reserving a few for garnish; put the remainder in a large ceramic jar. Pour the cool water over them and set them aside in a dark place (away from any sunshine) for at least 4 hours. Strain the rose water and discard petals.

--Rachelle

a.k.a. @TravelBlggr

###

Yes.  You read that correctly.  That does say cricket.  Maybe I've watched way too many Bizarre Food's re-runs on the Travel Channel (though I wouldn't be inclined to consume anything 'gelatinous'), but I do enjoy a food challenge.  There's just something about being a woman and having the bragging rights to say, "heck yeah, I tried that!"  Currently my culinary tasting adventures have included sheep's balls, black squid ink risotto and monk fish liver.   During my recent trip to Mexico, I tried my first bug.  Cricket is now on the list.

According to my friends in Mexico, crickets are a treat.  The evening started innocently enough with a tequila tasting.  Eh hem.  And since I wasn't challenged to eat a worm in tequila, I thought I should rise to the occasion when presented with a cricket.  I think the pictures below will speak for themselves.

The tequila tasting was part of a Tweet Trip to Riviera Maya where Hacienda Tres Rios hosted a group of travel bloggers.  Now, Chef Oscar knows tequila like a good sommelier knows wine.  He taught us to swirl it around in our mouth, breathe it in, taste every molecule.  And here I was nervous about reliving some college moments that I'm not too proud of.  I was expecting to lick salt off my wrist and suck down a lime to get through this tasting,  but instead, was intrigued by the sophistication and technique.

I actually learned a few things.  Such as a new toast to replace "one tequila ... two tequila ... three tequila ... floor."  We did all kind of look around nervously as the number of tequila glasses started climbing up to double digits.  I lost count after 10.  Don't judge.  I ate the cricket sober.  I swear!  There are at least 6 other Twitter-folk out there that can vouch for my sobriety this evening.

Here's the new toast I learned ...

ARRIBA!  (one tequila)

ABAJO!  (two tequila)

AL CENTRO!  (three tequila)

CUCHI CUCHI!  (floor ...)

The tequilas were actually excellent.  I found "my" tequila.  Just like a person finds a wine that they love.  This one didn't put  hair on my chest and tasted somewhat sweet.  Wonder if I can find it in the States?

After tasting lord knows how many tequilas ... we wandered, swayed, staggered ... eh, hem ... rode the elevator to the second floor for dinner.  Now, after you read all of my self-deprecating commentary below... scroll up and down the remaining photos super quick for the flip-book-like experience.  My videographer friends are thinking, "Rachelle, why didn't you just shoot video of this event?" Trust me, it wouldn't be darn near as funny as the following photos ...

Here I am ready for an adventure ... thinking that just because it's fried, with sour cream, that I'll like it.

Down the hatch ... I already look worried.  That's because my new friend Janice ate the cricket with perfect style and grace.  She didn't even flinch when the leg popped through her lips.  Of course, she didn't see the leg.  I did though.  Perhaps that's the thought going through my mind here ...

This is an, "Oh Gawd!" moment.  An, "Oh Gawd, It would be really awful for me to spit this out.  Not very polite for our hosts.  Plus my new friend Matt is sitting next to me trying really hard not to watch ... don't want to push him completely over the edge and gross him out.  And there is all kinds of other great food coming if ...  I ... can ... just ... hold ... this ... down.  One little cricket.  There is no going back now.  Eeeeeeew!"

And the flavor sets in.  Gamey.  I might recall this same flavor from eating ants in the playground when I was four years old.  No amount of fried banana and sour cream can cover that up.  I do believe this is what they call "the money shot" below.  Thank you Janice. Thank you very much.  (And a little PS for my new friend Matt ... how's THAT for a non-glamour shot.  LOL)

Ah ha!  I spared you a leg.  That's just lettuce on my tongue.  Swear.

At this point I think I can probably giggle at my initial reaction and handle it.

Nope.  Not handling it.

Doing hand wave-y thing-y trying to get through it.  Matt is still not looking.

Apparently it's an acquired taste.  Pass the tequila now please.

And now for a tequilajito chaser.  Aaaaah ... te-qui-laaah!   I do have to say, the rest of the meal was delicious.  Trying the cricket was the most fun though.  Well, until we hit the town in Playa Del Carmen.  But that's a different story ...

(Thank you to @SoloTraveler for having a speedy shutter finger and photographically documenting the full range of emotion experienced here)

--Rachelle

a.k.a. TravelBlggr

PS...Hacienda Tres Rios has some GREAT recipes.  They may be a sustainable eco-friendly resort but I assure you there is more on the menu than tequila and crickets.  I have some fantastic recipes I'll post from them soon.  In the meantime, here's a pick to drool upon ...

Disclosure:  Click Here

So after lunch today and 3 tequilahitos  (a tequila/basil version of a mojito ...) ... I spied a hammock with my name on it.  I thought I'd share.

This was the view ...

View from my hammock ...

Then I thought ... well ... how will people know that I was actually here in this perfect hammock?

Let me take a customary shot of my foot. Just for proof.  I stared to giggle.  Must be the tequila ...

See ... it really IS me in this hammock ...

Then I thought, "Eeh, not the best.  Shows my dirty feet from walking around the cenote." And apparently a dirty lens too ... I don't have freckles like that on my leg.  So I tried again ... as a good blogger should .... to get the perfect relaxation shot.

I should put the camera down and relax now ...

Well.  I managed to camouflage the dirty feet ... but still didn't see that I had a dirty lens in the glaring sun.   Let's just say I've tanned and added some large freckles on this trip.  It could happen!  So ... one more try ...

Flippin Out

And I nearly managed a crush-camera-into-sand moment.  My giggle turned into a full blown belly laugh.  But I caught it!  My foot hit the sand.  No flippage.   That's what I get for trying to nap in a hammock after drinking tequila.  But I did manaage to get the perfect shot.  Without my feet ... so you can imagine yourself in it.

Wish you were here ...

Picture Yourself Here

--Rachelle

aka @TravelBlggr

Disclosure:  Click Here This is a sponsored Tweet Trip by Hacienda Tres Rios.

Disclosure: Click Here

Rachelle with the Amalfi Coast, Sorrento and Mt Vesuvius in the background.

The Amalfi Coast is often described as breathtaking.  Now, having been there, I could argue that it's not the scenery that takes your breath away, but the insane way that Italians drive while ignoring any form of lane boundaries and taking cliff-side curves at high speeds.  It's enough to turn your hair white.

I arrived in Naples by plane and Sorrento by bus ... and I have to say ... next time, I'll go by boat.  I'll skip the chaos of Alitalia and the "oh-my-gawd-this-bus-is-going-to-tip-off-this-cliff" moments.  In Italy, there really are no road rules. The bigger your vehicle, the more people will get out of your way.  Unless you're in the smallest of vehicles, in which case you'd be a cuckoo kamikaze ridin a Vespa at top speed weaving in and out of

Which way to go?

traffic defying the laws of physic the whole time.  At least the other tourists would get out of your way as they gasped, "are you insane?"  Personally, I'd feel safer arriving to the Amalfi Coast by boat.  But then again, I wouldn't have such fun stories to tell.  After all, it's not an adventure unless your risking your life, right?  So it's no wonder they serve limoncello in Sorrento ... at the end of the ride there you need a little something hard and sweet to calm your nerves.  And I'm not talking about Italian men.  Well, maybe.  Okay, just a little.

Soooo, back to transportation and Italian men.

Stepping out of the airport in Naples and walking to find the bus that would take our group to Sorrento, there was a man whose frame I swear was chiseled right out of a  Roman God statue mold.  Tall and tan, jet black hair slicked back in true Soprano's style with a little curly cue brushing his forehead. He had on a tight pair of designer jeans, white "wife beater" tank top, a gold chain with (you guessed it) a gigantic hunk-of-a gold cross, Italian leather shoes (of course) and big girlie-like Prada sunglasses. This man was our bus driver. Oh lord, help me.  The stereotype in flesh and blood.  I giggled and then hoped that no one noticed.

Grand Entrance

The ride to Sorrento from Naples is about an hour and well worth the car sickness.  I think this little seaside town gets overshadowed by some of the more popular destinations like Naples, Pompeii and Positano.  Sorrento is small and can easily be walked through in a day.  It's full of shops peddling handmade linens and Italian leather goods with little family owned restaurants piping the scents of fresh lemon, basil and seafood to lure you in for a leisurely Italian lunch.

Just a short uphill drive (literally ... and somewhat like an extended version San Fran's Lombard Street) you'll find my other two favorite Italian towns, Santa Agata and Massa Lubrense.  This is where my second adventure began.  First, my goal was to survive hurling while being driven around the Amalfi Coast ... and I don't get car sick.  The second test of my sense of adventure was the entrance to our bed & breakfast.  I have it pictured here, because I know you'd think I was exaggerating.  It was a dirt pathway leading to an unfinished building under construction.  Seriously.  Are you looking at the picture?  The cab had already driven off in a cloud of dust and I'm surrounded by olive groves so there is no where else to go but down this road.

Balcony & View

When you've traveled all day, when you've had nothing to eat but airport food, when you're feeling grimy and craving a clean shower, when you can still taste the vomit in the back of your throat from fear that your life was going to end in a tour bus rolling down a cliff side into the Mediterranean ... this is not the entrance you envision schlepping your luggage through.

I gulped.  Then I tilted my head to the side and said, "for real?!" Then I chuckled.  Then I laughed so hard I wheezed, couldn't breathe, and my gasps for air turned into snorting through my nose ... I do this when things go wrong when traveling.  I'm fun that way.  I put on my best zen-like yoda face and pulled my luggage through the dirt.  Wheels on the bottom of the bag didn't matter since they weren't built for bumpy back roadin.  I deliriously smiled from ear-to-ear thinking, "this is either going to be really interesting or I'm going to have to pick some olives from these trees for dinner."  Thankfully, the house at the end of this dusty road was spectacular!   Italian tile tubs, big kitchen, and a balcony with a view of the coast. Aaaaah.  I like happy surprises.  Pass the limoncello now please.

Other delightful surprises I found in Santa Agata?  Well, for starters, they produce one of the most divine white wines that have ever touched my lips, Mustilli, made with the Falanghina varietal grape.  And I was even more amused that they use a glass cork.  Nifty.

Just down the road a bit from Santa Agata is Massa Lubrense.  This town has a special place in my heart for the 8 course family made Italian meal we enjoyed for about $30 Euros per person.  Two of  the most memorable meals in my life took place at Lo Stuzzichino and Fattoria Terra Nova.  I had the pleasure of celebrating a friend's birthday on this occasion and this particular year ended in a zero so it was a special one.  Lucky for us, he speaks Italian and is major foodie, so we went on quite the gastronomic ride.  He recreates these same mouth-gasmic dishes at his B&B in the States, The Adora Inn.

John with Stuzzichino Chef

.  I may be of French descent, but I  have to give the Italians credit for really knowing how to make dinner a slow food event.  First they start with a antipasto, then pasta, then fish, then beef, then more antipasto, then a cheese plate, then desert, THEN salad, and then ... the limoncello.  Limoncello is actually just one of a variety of after dinner liquors they serve.  Among the choices, I remember one called "rocket" that was a lettuce liquor.  Radicchio.  It was delish.  But I'll stick to making limoncello at home since I'm not too confident in what would happen if I stuck a bunch of lettuce in a liter of vodka.

So, next time you're driving home from a long day and you've done the equivalent of schlepping heavy baggage down bumpy dirt roads ... and then traffic is bumper-to-bumper... and the guy in the lane to the left of you is picking his nose ... and you glance up in the rear view mirror and notice the lady behind you putting on mascara while driving ... and some annoying song that you've heard 100 times is playing on every radio station available ... just think, "I could be in Italy right now and the traffic would be 10 times worse.  Though, there would be the decedents of Roman gods driving vespas shirtless weaving in and out of traffic passing you by as they said, 'ciaoooo bellaaaa.'" And after that thought you get even more ticked.  You let out a sigh.  Then, go home and make some limoncello.

Let us begin ...

The recipe came from a kitchen towel I found at the open air market in Sorrento.  I have it posted at the end in both Italian and in English.

You'll need to peel approximately 8 lemons.  I found it easiest to use a bar tool called a channel knife since it gives you nice long strips of lemon peel.  Still haven't figured out yet how bar tenders get the little curly cue thing with it ... but I tried.  Aim the peel at the opening of the container so that it will catch the oils released.  Be warned ... your hands and nails will be sticky and yellow, but they'll smell citrus clean!

Add your lemon peels to glass containers that can be hermetically sealed.

Okay.  Now imagine me at the liquor store looking at the 50 different options there are for vodka.  Not only are there a bajillion different brand names, but vodka is now available in every flavor under the rainbow!  You name it, they've got it.  Pear vodka. Chocolate vodka.  Raspberry Vodka.  Espresso vodka.  I called at least 2 or 3 of my guy friends (being a little stereotypical there ... as if guys know more about vodka then women, eh?) and asked for some advice on brands and they were all nodding their heads (yes, I could see this over the phone.  Or sense it anyway) that brand does indeed matter.  Apparently the *cheap* stuff will give you a headache.  Not in my life have I ever had enough vodka to analyze the morning after effects.  But what I DID want to experiment with was flavor.  Will the citrus flavored vodka create a limoncello with more zing than a regular plain vodka?  That is the question.  This all of a sudden felt like a 7th grade science fair exhibit sans the 3 paneled poster board, and, well, obviously that I wouldn't be testing vodka in 7th grade.

I labeled each container appropriately so we'd know for sure which is which.   And then I realized my insatiable curiosity created us wonderful reason to plan a  limoncello tasting!

Let the "games" begin.  On this side of the ring we have Absolut Citron.  Smells citrus-y.  Looks clear.

And our next contender is just plain Absolut.  Plain, but strong.  Puts hair on your chest.  That's why I'm adding lemon and sugar because I don't need hair on my chest.

Pour them separately into the appropriately marked containers with lemon peels.

Now ... the not so fun part.  You've got to let it marinate for a couple of days.  What to do while you wait?  Drink wine.

Seal the containers tightly and let it sit in a cool dry place for a minimum of 4 days.  The longer you wait, the stronger the lemon flavor.  Some recipes call for letting it sit for up to 3 months.  I wasn't that patient this time.  On the 4th day ... we made limoncello!  This is where it gets just a little messy ... so stand at your sink.  You want to strain the peels out of the liquid, so we poured them through a fine strainer into a large bowl, and then poured the lemon infused vodka back into their appropriate container and added the sweet simple syrup.  Look how yellow that vodka turned in just 4 days!

Chill.  Serve. Drink.

Pour into fancy bottles and give away as gifts.  Enjoy.

In Italian & English ...

Limoncello

Ingredienti

un litro d' acqua
un litro d' alcool
un chilo di zucchero
otto limoni

Prendere degli 8 limoni solo le bucce tagliandole sottili e mettendole in infusione dentro l' alcool.  Il tuuto in un barattolo ermeticamente chiuso.

Aspettate quattro giorni ed unite l' infuso d' alcool con lo sciroppo che avrete preparato con un Kg di zucchero in un litro d' acqua tiepida.  Mescolate e lasciate riposare il tutto una decina di mimuti, filtrate ed imbottigliate.  Si Serve molto freddo.

Lemon Cello