On a recent trip to New York City, my husband and I took the train from New Haven’s Union Station. On our way out of Grand Central Station, we passed a bakery, and the aroma of fresh-baked bread stopped me in my tracks. “On the way back,” my husband promised. “We’ll get bread to bring home.” He was right. We were headed to the Andaz Wall Street for the GT Tested Awards and a two-night stay. What was I going to do with a bag full of bread?

The hotel was fabulous, the event even more so. And, true to his word, on our return trip, my husband steered us straight to Grand Central Market, a long arcade of food stalls on the ground floor of the terminal, with access to the street at one end. Featuring everything from Greenwich Produce to Penzeys Spices, from Murray’s Cheese to Pescatore Seafood, it is a foodie’s paradise. But it was bread I was after, and bread I found at Zaro’s Bread Basket. There was such a large selection, I couldn’t make up my mind; and with our luggage getting in everyone’s way, I had to decide fast. We ended up with a bag full of ciabatta and other crusty creations to take home and a couple of focaccio loaves, loaded with delicious toppings, for the train.

It’s hard to get a good loaf of bread in our part of Connecticut. There are few bakeries to begin with, even fewer that bake their own bread, and fewer still that bake really good, crusty bread.

My passion for bread goes way back. In the 1980s, after a week in Paris with a friend, dining on fresh baguette morning, noon and night, I bemoaned the dismal lack of good bread at home. Enduring one too many complaints about “this doughy American stuff,” my husband had had enough: “Then learn to make your own!” And so I did, and I’ve been baking baguettes ever since.

Some of the finest souvenirs I have brought home from my travels are not the usual tchotchkes. Sure, I’ve carted my share of china cups and coffee mugs, original watercolors by local artists and Gustav Klimt prints from Vienna. I’ve stuffed my suitcase with fine woolens from Ireland and Iceland, and lugged back a huge pottery half-moon from the Caribbean. Each year my Christmas tree is adorned with ornaments from around the world — Delftware from Dutch St. Maarten, bright red wooden lobsters from Maine, Bermudian bobbies, Tyrolean jumping jacks. I even schlepped a cuckoo clock halfway through Europe on a backpacking trip when I was 20. And some items have inspired whole collections, as with our Wayang Golek (Java puppets), which we accumulated over many years of traveling through the Caribbean.

But fabric fades. China chips and cracks. It is the more intangible things that stay with me. Like learning to bake baguette, I seem to collect new abilities wherever I go, new traditions to incorporate into my life that remind me of where I’ve been.

In Germany, one taste of Schwarzwalder-Kirsch-Torte (Black Forest cake) and I had to possess its lush chocolate-and-cream secrets. I found a recipe and practiced making it — even impressing my father-in-law with a torte for his birthday one year.

Other locations have led to other additions to my culinary repertoire: Johnny cakes and plantains as they are served in the lolos of Grand Case, St. Martin; Irish scones, brown bread and potato soup; dim sum inspired by a trip to San Francisco’s Chinatown.

But musical fare can have the same effect as food. On a visit to Doolin, the traditional music capital of Ireland, I was so taken by the local music that I needed to possess it myself and bought two tin whistles — I have learned three songs in three years — and if I had room in my suitcase would have lugged home enough instruments for a whole band: bodhran drums, bones, spoons and maybe even uilleann pipes. On one trip to the Caribbean, I was convinced I could be a steel drum player; luckily, there were no drums for purchase on the island.

I suppose it’s my passion for a place, for its people, that inspires this sort of madness in me, this need to replicate what I have found and instill it into my daily life. Perhaps it is a way of keeping the memories alive. I am loath to leave some places and head home to my ordinary life.

What I have yet to figure out, though, is how to carry home more esoteric things, like an entire way of life. How, for instance, to institute the Spanish siesta into my afternoon? How to take a two-hour lunch and still get work done? How to stay as relaxed as I am on the beach in the Caribbean, as enthused as I am in a Parisian art museum, as connected to people as I am when encountering another culture?

Ah, but that’s exactly what vacations are for.

– Jan Hecht, associate editor

Last week, I started my first graduate school class. When the professor announced in the first class that we would be watching a documentary, I jokingly thought to myself, “Maybe this grad school thing would be easier than I thought!”

The 2002 documentary, The Stone Reader, is the story of two men - Mark Moskowitz and Dow Mossman. Moskowitz is a filmmaker and a great lover of books. As a teenager, he read a New York Times book review of Stones of Summer by Dow Mossman. He attempted several times in his life to get through the book, but he never could — until the late 1990s. He once again picked up his copy and started reading. This time, he was inspired. He loved the book and looked for more books by Mossman. He found nothing; no record of Mossman — it was as if he vanished off the face of the earth after his first critically-acclaimed novel failed to find success.

The Stone Reader is about Moskowitz’s quest to track down Mossman and find out what happened. The documentary chronicles virtually everyone involved in the book publishing process — from his teachers to his agent to the book critic to the publisher and book jacket designer. Moskowitz even interviews the photographer who took Mossman’s photo for the inside flap. Does he find Mossman? Well, I won’t give away the ending, but the documentary is a great choice for anyone who loves to read.

It also offers a glimpse into the life of authors. As these men and women put their hearts and souls into their characters and plots, they can begin to lose themselves. Many never achieve critical or monetary success, and sometimes the pressure is just too great. It’s more common than you think to have one-book authors. Some of the greats only wrote one book — look at Harper Lee and To Kill A Mockingbird. The documentary is just an overall look at reading, publishing and authors.

On Wednesday, J. D. Salinger, author of Catcher in the Rye, one of the most beloved and iconic books of all time, passed away at the age of 91. Salinger is a perfect example of the above. He followed with short stories and novellas. He refused movie options. And he went on to live a semi-reclusive life in New Hampshire.

Check out The Stone Reader if you have a chance. It offers the opportunity to take an inside peek at the literary world and gain a new perspective.

– Kim Krol, eFlyer editor, circulation and public relations executive

I just discovered that you can send virtual postcards via an iPhone application. Like any other video-related program, you can edit the pictures in hundreds of ways. Whatever happened to the good, old-fashioned (and sometimes cheesy) postcards found at highway rest stops?

A few months ago, I mentioned to a friend that I was missing a souvenir magnet from Toronto. I try to get a skyline magnet from every city I visit, and somehow I missed Toronto. My friend said I should just find a picture online, print it out on photo paper and affix it to store-bought blank magnets.

Now, why didn’t I think of this? Actually, why go anywhere at all? Why not just Photoshop yourself into pictures at various locations and save tons of cash? Who needs to actually go anywhere and see anything when we can “virtually” do the trips?

I guess I am old school. I like buying postcards at four-for-a-dollar and actually writing silly notes on them to send to certain people. I like buying a travel magnet to remind me of my trip. I occasionally even buy a souvenir t-shirt (especially if it is purple).

I am all for modern technology — fixing bad photos taken on the trip (although with digital cameras, why would there be bad photos?). I like having my photos on disks, too. However, I also like printing the hard-copy photos and actually putting them in an album.

I do sometimes wonder if people with digital cameras spend more time making sure they digitally capture everything than actually experiencing things. My brother-in-law, Dave, must have about 5,000 digital pictures from this year alone. At least with old cameras, you had to be more selective (or spend fortunes in photo development).

I guess we are all entitled to do whatever we want. For me, I will continue to buy real postcards and ready-made magnets. I will snap some pictures (probably with a disposable camera). Then, I will concentrate on having a great time wherever I am so that I will always have real memories of my trips.

– John Wroblewski, distribution specialist

This past week I discovered a wonderful event which I’ve already decided will become the kick-off activity of the holiday season for me every year from now on. One of the pluses of moving to a new community is being exposed to its unique festivals,celebrations and institutions. Here in the Rogue Valley (and, specifically, the city of Medford) is a lovely performing arts center, the Craterian Ginger Rogers Theater. Opened in 1924 as a venue for both live traveling performances and popular movies of the day, it was transformed in 1997 into a community performing arts center after languishing unused for several years. The famed dancer/actress purchased a ranch here on the Rogue River in the ’40s and was a quiet but active member of  the community until her death in 1995. She supported fundraisers focused on the remodeling of the old Craterian; hence, the addition of her name to the site.

The theater hosts an ecletic assortment of national concert, dance and theatrical tours each year in addition to several local and regional dance and musical entities and is operated by a non-profit organization. For several years now, the largest fundraiser for that group has been the annual Gingerbread Jubilee. On Tuesday I trekked downtown, plunked down a measly three dollars and spent the next 90 minutes thoroughly amazed and impressed with the ingenuity, skill and artistry of those who submitted the 48 entries on display. There were a few different divisions – student, adult, individual and group — and very few rules. The only one that really seemed to matter is that everything used in each creation had to be an edible item (not just gingerbread). The more I looked, the more I spotted some really amazing adaptations of cereal, various kinds of pasta and even dried seaweed as building materials!

This being the 150th anniversary of Oregon’s statehood, several displays depicted well-known historical sites and events from the past. There was a lovely recreation of the Chateau at the Oregon Caves National Monument, a 1934 rustic wooden hotel; a covered bridge complete with goldfish-cracker residents ”swimming” in the “river” below; a log homestead with a rock-candy chimney. Most impressive for its intricate detailing inside and out as well as the age of its creators was a beautiful rendition of a one-room schoolhouse. Tiny fondant-molded coats, hats, gloves and lunch boxes cluttered the cloak room; desks contained books and were covered with crayons, calculators and papers with homework problems sketched on them; outside, a lizard sunned itself on a bench next to a basketball hoop. All of this was created by a team of students aged 5 through 11 who attend a charter school in the area.

Other entrants were inspired by the holiday season (creche scenes and the North Pole), the environment (”Save the Penguins” and salmon streams) and popular culture. Where the Wild Things Are was represented by Max’s room growing out of one of the pages in the book, with some of the wild things — perfect replicas — romping nearby. One of my favorites was the house from the movie Up invented by a 17-year-old girl who created the three-story structure in amazing detail inside and out (rabbit-eared T.V. and gramophone included). Garnering “Best of Show” was Saurusville, designed by a woman who has entered the Jubilee several years in a row and is truly an artist. Inspired by her 5-year-old son’s infatuation with the PBS kids’ show Dinosaur Train (for which she and he created a separate entry depicting the train winding its way through a tunnel and around some mountains on its way to the town), she dreamed up an entire community including a four-story hotel, cinema, bakery shop and apartments with dinosaur denizens included. How does anyone, let alone someone with a 5-year-old, have the time and patience to create such wonders?!

I left the exhibit utterly charmed and amazed. My past meager attempts at very simple gingerbread houses taught me just enough to realize that the individuals who made these elaborate creations possess an unbelievable amount of imagination, stamina and patience (and steady hands!). They even inspired me to consider taking another stab at a gingerbread creation in the future. In the meantime, though, I will be more than happy to look forward to attending this annual event to begin each Christmas season with healthy doses of whimsy, wonder and awe.

– Patty Vanikiotis, proofreader

As I mentioned in a blog a few weeks ago, I was happy to return to London this October after an almost five year hiatus. I spent more than three months in the city during my junior year at Syracuse University, and I was eager to return. And, once again, London did not disappoint and I made the most of my time there.

I arrived early in the morning on Wednesday and checked into the InterContinental Park Lane. To refresh and rejuvenate after the long flight, I enjoyed a reflexology treatment and spent about 15 minutes in the spa’s flotation bed. After catching my breath, I enjoyed lunch and a Champagne flight on the London Eye. The Champagne flight is available to all passengers of the London Eye. A consultant comes on the pod with riders and everyone enjoys a bottle of bubbly as they soak in the sights of London.

On Wednesday night, I was able to attend the exclusive Vanity Fair/London Restaurant Festival Week launch party at Quaglino’s. Following the reception, I enjoyed the opening night of Pierre Koffman’s pop-up restaurant on the roof of Selfridges. The pop-up restaurant was originally intended to be only open during the festival, but due to its popularity, it has been extended through November. Should you find yourself in London next month, check it out. I dined a table away from Tom Parker Bowles. The pistachio souffle is a must!

Thursday, I enjoyed a morning stroll through Covent Garden market. I watched all the vendors set up shop and enjoyed the sounds of a classical music busker ensemble. In the afternoon I made my way over to the Tate Modern. Pop Life, an exhibit featuring the work of Andy Warhol and others, is currently at the museum. It was my first visit to the Tate Modern. Afternoon tea at Harvey Nichols was a perfect way to wind down in the afternoon. I spent a relaxing evening enjoying dinner at Theo Randall, in the InterContinental, and cocktails and dancing at the nearby Met Bar.

When Friday rolled around, I was disappointed I only had two more days in my favorite city. But, boy, I filled them. In the morning, I visited the Judith Blacklock Flower School for a flower arranging lesson. I spent the afternoon browsing Borough Market and enjoyed lots of delicious treats. In the evening, as a special treat, I enjoyed the InterContinental’s cinema suite. Due to technical difficulties, the EatFilm launch, a part of restaurant festival week, was canceled. The event showcased a food movie, followed by a dinner with a menu inspired by the film. No worries, watching Chocolat and having a special company come in to teach me about chocolate and how to make my own helped me create my own EatFilm night.

On Saturday I visited the Tower of London in the morning. In all the time I spent in London, I had never made it to the Tower. I enjoyed lunch at the Royal Academy with GT representative Joanna Percy. We also took in the Anish Kapoor exhibit. I took a trip down memory lane in the late afternoon, taking the Tube to Edgware Road and walking around the old neighborhood and past our old townhouse. In the evening, I went to the theater and saw Oliver, which was great! Those children could really perform.

And, alas, Sunday came and it was time to return home. I’ll save my thoughts on Heathrow’s Terminal 5 for a different day.

– Kimberly Krol, eFlyer editor, circulation and public relations executive