C\'mere \'till I tell ya

Travel to Dublin

C'mere 'till I tell ya

Travel luxury: Bittersweet

New York, New York

Travel luxury: Bittersweet

Willkommen in Österreich!

Hello Summer

Willkommen in Österreich!

Hello World,
We are Knubbel and Bubbel. We live in London and share a passion for food (I mostly eat and Bubble is in charge of cooking:).
We hope you find this blog tasty and warm with exciting stories from our K&B life which, although not that far from normal, makes us happy and HUNGRY to share with the world!

We are back together. As cliche as it may sound; Bubbel is back in Europe and I have been teleported to his hometown in Austria and we are simply just happy. And Happy people love telling stories. So here goes. Another one. Get ready for plenty of love.. not only to Bubbel. To Austria, I think, in general.

Like in all fairytales, it is not always going to be easy though. So be prepared for tears… I had to get up at 3am  to catch my flight at 07:15am. The flight, that was than late and not on track. I have to say, for a split second I did feel connected with Bubbel on that one. After he wrote his last post (and after I’ve removed all the ‘bad’ words – not to his amusement) I told him it was a bit too much of a complaining one. But while stranded on my 7:15am Ryanair flight, which was not moving, with no comms from the cabin crew, I did think, that perhaps he did not exaggerate that much.

But going back to the story; the bumpy ride finally brought me to Linz. I arrived at this small but nice airport welcomed by these two waving hallo at me. Continue reading

Sixty minutes. Sixty. A whole hour. That is how long it took me to go to this special place in Los Angeles. Believe me, the journey to this place was like every trip in L.A.: get in to the car, hit the road and drive with all the other poor souls who live there, to the final destination. In my case, Menotti’s. I have to be honest with you from the beginning: I love coffee. Je t’aime, l’amour. Really, I do. For me, this little “black bean” is one of the biggest discoveries in human history. And is my love to it is crazy enough, to make me hit the road for an hour just to enjoy the best coffee on the entire US Westcoast? The answer is yes. Not even my impatience could hold me back.

So back to the story an Menotti’s. To be quite frank, it was a recommendation from a friend who used to live in L.A. for several years. The reason why she shared the secret of this place with me is my constant complaining (yes I do that every now and then) about L.A., which in my view, is one of the most boring cities on the entire planet (I might have an “individual” bias here). My friend clearly wanted to prove me wrong. So here I am (I’m literally in Menotti’s while writing this post), following her advice to visit this place, which was supposed to completely change may mind about this city of dreams…. Continue reading

Some people would say that I’m privileged. Some people would call my travelling challenges “luxurious”. Some friends would simply just give everything for the experience I’m able to gain through my job.

And yes, I’ve heard every argument over the last three years while “floating” around the globe and I admit, every single one of them is almost correct. Deep inside me I know that. Really. I really, really know that.

You might wonder what I’m talking about, and why I’m highlighting this like crazy, right? Give me a second and I will explain: If you have already spent some time exploring BellyInLove, you might have noticed, that I do all sort of things. I’m sure that if you stay tuned on this blog, you will soon enough find out every single detail. However, my direct environment, mainly Knubbel, is facing my biggest weakness day by day. You see, I have this ‘dark’ side. And the problem with it is not something that only comes out when I play tennis (fuuu**ing racket; it is this sh**y wind; why the f**k am I not moving my ridiculous feet; etc) or on the tube (hey, idiot why are you pushing me – no eyes or what?; why does everyone in London start working at the same time – f**king hell it is so hot in here; why the f**k TFL just doesn’t purchase trains with f**king air-conditioning). No, the dark side does not come out only then. The dark side comes to life every day, at different level, with various strength. I would say it is like a handicap in golf – something like 108 or 500 over par. And this handicap is my (im)patience. Continue reading

It was Bubbel’s birthday few weeks ago. I personally could not wait. I think I looked forward to it so much more than he did, simply so that he could be that little bit less younger than me. The birthday was not until Thursday the following week, but I was so happy we were going to celebrate prematurely. Why? Well, here comes another fact about us; Bubbel is a year younger than me and he never misses out on the opportunity to remind me, that this  is a fact, that will never change!

His birthday date is kinda’ romantic, though. He was born on the same day that my parents got married ( different year though, of course).  Undoubtedly, a sign from the universe…

So we decided to celebrate in Dublin. We departed on Friday afternoon shortly after Bubbel opened his first present. There were three… Continue reading

Today Bubbel decided to terrorise me. For real. With FOOD! But let me explain from the start. Like in cooking, also here, the sequence of events is crucial.

This morning, 7am, we were woken up by the Amazon driver. He brought food. Plenty of food. I wish Bubbel was allowing me to take photos of him at the cracked dawn;  he’s a perfect image of an Italian (wo)man: messy hair (I’ve been telling him to have it cut for at least two weeks now but there seems to be some objections going on there), sexy (not) outfit… Heaven!

So 7am. We get at least five bags of, what looks like, potential feast for the belly. But I am obviously too busy getting ready, to investigate. So I have to face a WHOLE day of wondering, what he will cook! The terror begins! Continue reading

Today’s cooking ritual started with setting up rules of engagement. In other words, Bubble explained the dynamics at the kitchen counter; when he moves towards the oven… I move towards the fridge. When he walks away from the oven I am allowed to step back in.

Some would call it musical chairs… I call it a Kitchen Dancing as Bubble was a bit like Jonny in the famous Dirty Dancing scene.
Look, spaghetti arms. This is my dance space. This is your dance space. I don’t go into yours, you don’t go into mine.
And you are probably thinking that we had spaghetti for dinner. I will surprise you here…
The cooking went more less like this:

Continue reading