Most Memorable Travel Moment

I was plopped right on the filthy floor of the airport.  My cheeks were stained with tears, my hair was matted into a messy pony tail and I distinctly remember sulking - as spoiled-only-children do best.

We had three hours to kill, but I couldn't muster the energy to keep up a friendly banter with the dozen travel buddies I now considered family.  I was desperate not to speak of the inevitable: our semester abroad in Granada, Spain was actually over.

Since then, I've crossed off my fair share of bucket list adventures. Most of which are more "memorable" than a snapshot of me waiting in an airport.  Yet this moment stands out so distinctly in my mind as the day I realized my profound and undeniable travel-lust.

Truthfully, I didn't even want to study abroad.  I was perfectly content living in my college bubble and had no desire for deviating from my norm of plain pizza and keg beer parties. Don't get me wrong, I was always an adventurous little monster who loved to explore the outdoors, but I hadn't really ever thought of traveling abroad as attainable.  I did grow up in Halifax, MA after all - going north 40 minutes into Boston was our annual big to-do.  Alas, before I could even protest I was zipping up my two 40 lb lady bug printed suitcases and clutching my unstamped passport for dear life.

The next 5 months were a whirl wind of breathtaking adventure and mesmerizing sites.  From savoring crepes (yes plural) under the Eiffel Tower to exploring the winding streets of Marrakesh, I didn't hold back one bit.  I adapted with ease to the 'no pasa nada' lifestyle of Southern Spain - and relished in the endless tapas, siestas and heart pounding nite life. Even as I type these words, nearly 5 years later, I can still vividly remember the breathtaking sites, rhythmic sounds and welcoming smells of Granada.  Throughout my travels I kept feeling like I couldn't open my eyes wide enough.  Of course my camera was snapping photos like crazy - but I yearned to take mental images, so worried that I'd lose the magic feeling that awashed me as I strolled through Dublin or reached the final steps of the Duomo.  I was so afraid to forget the splendor of Europe, and even more terrified that each glorious day that passed brought me closer and closer to the end.  But with each passing day, my heart grew, my mind expanded and my dreams?  they erupted. 

 I was living in a perfect dream world, and so very afraid to wake up.  Yet here I was, mere hours away from waking up to the blind doldrum of my former life.  One flight got called over the loud speaker and as I grudgingly rose to hug goodbye to the few friends heading to the West coast, I had a startling and overwhelmingly blissful moment: the announcement had been in Spanish. 

And in that moment, I had the most glorious realization: no matter how similar the life I return to is, I'M different.  No matter how far removed I feel from my life in Spain, the experience has profoundly altered my perception.  Not only can I recount the splendor of the Louvre or chat about the fashion boutiques in Milan, but I can converse freely in Spanish - a language I only hoped to read proficiently in after 4 years of college study.  I have new likeminded friends spanning the United States and a few sprinkled throughout Europe. I conquered fears, learned to experience and enjoy food, and most importantly I developed a zeal for life.  

Cheesy as it sounds, I am so passionate about every single day of my life - and I attribute it whole heartedly to my travels abroad.  On the plane ride home I wrote my last journal entry not with a conclusion on my travels, but with a list of new adventures to add to my bucket list.  I have become infatuated with traveling and exploring, maybe borderline obsessed. 

Since the day I whipped the dust off my butt and the tears from my eyes to embrace my departing friends, I have always looked forward to the departures terminal in airports.  I turn my cell phone off, and use the time to reflect on where I have been, where I am going, and who I am.  There's something refreshing about parting ways with one destination and heading on to the next. With each goodbye hug I take something beautiful from my past and bring it into the excitement of the future.  And for this, and the overwhelming desire to see every inch of this mysterious world we inhabit, I feel blessed. 

Besos y amor,

Chelsea 

Exploring Boston as a Tourist

Ok lets get real about two things.  Foremost I should coin the travel slogan 'travel as a local but also explore your home as a tourist". Money.

Secondly, I should confess Boston isn't reaaaally my city. Heck until senior year of high school I probably had been to disneyworld more times than I'd ventured the 40 minutes north into Beantown. I can fondly remember taking the T in for my first Red Sox game (dawning a johnny damon shirt of all things!) and feeling so overwhelmed with the looming buildings, maze of one way streets and the air of sophistication and purpose the passerbys exuded.   Don't even get me started on my confusion at switching t lines.

Of course I would scoot into the big city for special birthdays and fancy outings, but I was always a Halifax girl at heart.  Occasionally over the next four years of college we would slip off to the city for drunken escapades, but even then I felt like I was always just along for the ride, not that I had any real stake in this mysterious string of brick laden bars.

Before my graduation cap hit the ground I was already planting my roots in Los Angeles. Backing up a little more, when I studied abroad in Spain, I always said I was from Boston and never got more than a nod for a response.  Well here I am in LA, hanging with some pretty well traveled company and not being able to even hold a conversation about the city I call home. Always mumbling the same poor excuse that I actually grew up 40 min south in some podunk town so remote we didn't even have any fast food restaurants besides a Subway... that went out of business after three months.

Push comes to shove and I end up moving (grudgingly) back home to pursue a career as a talent agent.  All of a sudden I was switching t lines 6 times a day and navigating through Copley to get to the Back Bay in time for work. When the clock hit 6, I was off to dinner in the North End and drinks in Beacon Hill. And if it was the weekend I might even be posting up in Southie to get a head start on day drinking for the next days game.  My friends from home and college had infiltrated the city and there wasn't a night I didn't spend getting my heel stuck in the brick and cobblestone sidewalks while I rushed from a work fashion show to a dinner on the water only to follow it up in some exposed brick loft overlooking the Boston. I quickly fell in love with the city I never really knew, but always called home.

There's a magic about Boston. A comrodery unsurpassed by any other place I've ever visited. The proud home of diehard sports enthusiasts, real clam chowda, and a rich history that rivals no other.  Every winding one way street you stroll down drops you off at yet another monument, old church or historic harbor viewpoint. This is a city of soul. Of real honest to God down to earth people who fight to maintain their Bostonian heritage.  These are proud people who don't judge based on labels or price tags, but on character, sports alliances and what corner bah you call home.

My year in Boston was a year of self discovery.  I made a point to learn the history, visit the sites (yes even take a duck tour!) and view the city as an open minded tourist.  I learned not only to be independent but also to appreciate true friendship. I did everything from hobnob with the fashion and entertainment world to shucking my own crab legs, and I can truthfully say I am now more proud than ever to call Boston home.


10 thinks you have to do when you visit -or live!!!- in Boston


1.  My favorite area is the North End. Visit the old church, walk the freedom trail, eat some authentic pasta and top it off with a trip to the infamous (and rightfully so) Mikes Pastries for a cannoli or 7 (they are that good)

2. Duck tour? Dont even think about skipping this foolishly silly but informative tour!  Pick it up in front of the prudential center, it's a better route than the Charlestown pick up. Quack quack!

3.  Cambridge is memorizing. Not only are you strutting around with the worlds most intelligent youth, you'll be amazed by the zeal and enthusiasm these budding geniuses exude. Everyones on the break of something big- and consequently optimistic about their bright futures. Hidden gem restaurants tucked into every corner and charming art galleries and boutiques line the streets.

4. Oh Newbury, how I wish I could afford you. If the North End is my favorite, the Back Bays hanging onto a close second.  Swing by Stepanie's on Newbury for some lobster mac and cheese then hit up Second Time Around for fabulous vintage finds.

5. Fenway is a priority. Fenway franks are a must.  Pats season? Throw on a jersey and head to southie to forge some lifelong friendships over buffalo chicken wings and bud lights.

6. Catch a show at the historic Wang theater - then stroll through the theatre district

7.  Seaport in the summer is u surpassed.  Hit the convention center for a harpoon or marathon festival then bar hop along the water.  Plan on stopping by the roof of Legal Seafoods for a lobster roll and a cup o' clam chowda.

8. Boston gardens.  Swoon.  Take your camera and capture the breathtaking arrangements of flower gardens, swan boats and lazy willowing trees. cold weather? Enjoy a tea time at the Ritz and watch the soft blanket of snow tuck in the garden, or the last leaf lazily drift to the ground.

9. The museum of fine arts, aquarium, science museum and contemporary arts museum are lovely ....but if you only have a day just swing through the library in Copley square then visit the Copley church and enjoy a frozen lemonade (or a Dunkies hot cocoa) before ducking into the Copley square hotel to try the original Boston creme pie (delicious but arguably rivaled by the Park Plaza hotels)

10.  Embrace the simplicity. The ease of navigating through a city you can walk from one side to another, but don't have to because the public transportation is too straightforward not to take advantage of.  No finding parking, no valet, no heels that are going to get stuck in the cobble stones and leave you limping for the next week anyhow.  Leave your cell phone in the car and really feel the history and engage in a conversation about who you are not what you do or the paycheck that accompanies it.  And I'll let you in on one last secret. We don't JUST love our sports teams, we love disguising a little belly we proudly acquired via chowda, fish an chips, buff chix, Boston creme pie and the like.  Wear your stretch pants and a tshirt and relish in the life of a true Boston native.

Valentines Day Quiz: Do I have a keeper!?

Loooooooove is in the air, and I'm smitten with it!   On this day of blissful romance and an abundance of chocolates, I've decided to check my negative vibe and embrace the holiday whole heartedly! (pun totally intended)

Hopefully my dear followers have already determined where their significant others fall short on the douchebag quiz (see two posts ago) and have made the appropriate substitution for their vday plans. 

Now comes my cuter, sweeter and more lovely quiz: 

How to tell you've got a keeper :)

1. He's not opposed to an occasional chick flick.

2. He calls you pretty when your sans makeup.

3. Every once and awhile he really listens when you complain, and stops leaving the seat up.

4. He makes the bed.  Or replenishes the milk if he drinks the last sip.  Or maybe he even changes the toilet paper roll if he uses the last of it.  Whatever it is, its the little things, but they add up. 

5. He lets you complain that your fat, but never forgets to remind you that you're perfect.

6. he's sweet to your friends. And isn't afraid of a little girl gossip if he finds himself surrounded by the chickys.

7. Heck, I'll take that he doesn't completely despise your friends.

8. You've caught him smiling at you. 

9.  He writes something cute in the card he takes forever to pick out. 

10. He isn't afraid to giggle.  

11.  He puts up with you putting -ies on the end of words.  As in "lets go get some eggies i'm huuungray!" doesn't make him scowl at you.

12.  he loves his family.  

13. and he at least puts up with the loonies in your family.

14. He doesn't call you out for needing a glass (bottle) of wine every (night) time you have a hard day at work.

15. He loves animals, and doesn't let a cute pooch go un-pet.

I could obviously keep going forever, and I suppose the list differs for everyone to some degree, but if you've smiled or crinkled your nose at a few of these then you've got what I'm talking about.   When you truly adore someone, just let go, embrace their idiosyncrasies and appreciate their love, it's worth it, I promise. 

Happy Valentines Day love birdies :)  

Hollywood Hipsters

Alright.  There's something I need to get off my chest. 

I am all for 'hipster' and even dress quite 'hipster-esque' on occasion, but the hollywood hipsters seem to be a tad confused. 

Lets take some lessons from the NY crowd shall we?

1. Hipsters should look like they're not trying - but still pull off sexy.  Its not staring at your closet for 4 hours before bearing your less than fit mid drift, wearing a retched fedora and cutting holes in perfectly good tights.  

2. If you're a guy, there's a fine line between looking 'hip' and looking flamboyantly gay. If you can't fit your credit card in your pants pocket, you've crossed the line. 

3. Mustaches were fun!  but they're going out. Enjoy your last month or two max of mustache inspired fashion statements then let it go.

4. Bandeaus are sexy and can totally turn an outfit hipster chic.  But letting your entire bra show --- or lack of bra show in place of a cute lacy bandeau does not make you a hipster it makes you a whore.

5. On that note, bra-less is sexy.  If you have an a or small b cup.  if not, for god's sake please put them in some kind of holster.  

6. i'm over the glasses for people who have perfect eye sight.  you don't see me walking around with 'statement' braces do you?

7. Sunglasses, plaid, jean tops, high waist shorts, distressed tees and hats are a do. But scarves?  scarves are a must.

8. You can lie all you want and say you only buy vintage and eat vegan.  But for god sakes don't say it while you scarf down in and out wearing an entire Urban Outiffters ensemble that hasn't even hit the sales rack yet.

9. Lastly. You can drone on and on about how you like so and so before it became mainstream, but i neither believe you or care.  I'm too busy filtering pictures of us posing with our cigarettes and frowning at clubs, because we're totally over the scene and cannot wait to get out of here and hit up sayers where the rest of our no name actor friends sit around and denounce celebrities for selling out.

HIPSTER DO'S :

Pre Valentines Day Quiz, "Am I dating a douchebag?"

WAIT! save your money on cologne and chocolates! Take this sure fire pre-valentines day quiz to find out if you're dating a douchebag!

*This quiz has absolutely no reference in any way to my boyfriend.  But he may have been harmed by intense scrutinization. 

If you answer yes to 2 or more of the following, it's time to hop back on tinder and find yourself a new main squeeze.  We've still got 4 days until we're hunkered down in some over priced crammed valentines day hell, which leaves plenty of time to find a new date. 

1. Does he take the window seat?

   1. a. ...the good pillow, the last english muffin, the only clean towel?

2. Does he have more hair products than you?

    2. a. Does his hair stand over two inches in the front?

    2. b. Does he wear flat brim hats with the sticker still on? 

    2. c. What about fedoras? 

3. Does he have a tribal tattoo?

  

    3. a. what about something spelt wrong?

4. Has he been fired more than once in the last 6 months?

  

    4. a. was it for sexual harassment? 

5.  Does he live in Hollywood? 

     5. a. What about Providence?

6. Does he hit on your friends?

     6. a. have you caught him hooking up with your friends? 

7.  Do you pay for his protein powder? 

     7. a. And his fresh tints?

8. Is he illiterate? 

      8. a. Does he think its cool that he can't read a paragraph through then paraphrase the meaning? 

      8. a. Does he claim he doesn't like reading, but says he reads Maxim in the bathroom with the door locked because he likes the fun facts?

9. Does he have a catch phrase or word he over-relies on?

 

     9. a. Is it ligit?

     9. b. bro?

10. Does he reference past sexual conquests? Or suggest threesomes?

     10. a. At dinner?

More Magazine

I love a good magazine; flipping through every single page, pouring over every editorial shoot, reading every last caption and story.  But lately I haven't been able to get through a single issue of my old favorites.

But then yesterday I stumbled upon More Magazine.  And while the articles are most definitely geared towards a more mature audience, I felt touched and inspired by the material within its binding. Each story held a wisdom that really resonated with me and left me feeling more empowered and less afraid to grow old.

 I often feel like an old soul trapped in a young body.  Don't get me wrong, I still party with the best of them, but at the end of the day I am an extremely reflective and intuitive person.  I enjoy the little things, like gardening or curling up with a good book and some hot tea.  I am passionate about traveling and soul searching and I strive everyday to grow as a person. But growing old? That's a concept I have been hideously afraid of lately. I keep having this panicky feeling that time is running out.  That if I don't make the right decisions right this second, my life will go in the wrong direction and I'll never have the opportunity to reroute it.  Each morning I wake with this urgency to leave a legacy and make something of myself, and each night I go to sleep feeling defeated.  This is perhaps daunting to hear from a 25 year old, but living in Los Angeles in a time of economic uncertainty has taken quite the tole on my psyche.  Growing up an only child I truly believed that if I wanted something, I could have it with enough dedication and hard work.  Over the last few years, this feeling has wavered to the point where I feel like I have missed the boat on a lot of my original dreams.

And this is where I was when I picked up More Mag on the elliptical.  Reading articles about women who were still finding themselves at 40, 50, 60, lifted me from my despair and reinstated my hope and faith.  The cover story with Lauren Graham was a breath of fresh air.  Here is an established actress who didn't 'make it' in her 20s, and even now with all her success at 40, she is still reinventing herself and discovering what she wants from life.  But her story wasn't the only one, each page showcased another successful woman who undoubtedly felt the same passion, and struggle, as I feel today.

This commonality among successful women has never been apparent to me, and that is probably due to the fact that my nose has still been buried in the magazines I enjoyed through college.  I'm ready to cancel my subscription to magazines boasting titles 'makeup tricks that will make him drool'.  I want, and deserve to give myself, More.

Chelsea Gilson, 25
Theatrical Talent Agent
West Hollywood, CA
chelseagilson@gmail.com
www.chelseagilson.blogspot.com

Bonjour 2013! I'm finally ready for you!

So  my 2013 resolutions are off to a slow, not a bad, start.


In my defense, this past week has been hectic. I moved into a new place in West Hollywood. And by moved in I mean I brought all my clothes and kitchenware into a completely empty apartment.  Since then, I have purchased a bed frame and a living room set, but the place is far from homey.   Nonetheless, this is a big important new beginning for my 2013.

Work is off to a feverish, but fabulous start.  With pilots flowing steadily into the breakdowns, my theatrical board is becoming a well oiled machine in no time.

I'm a cozy 12 pounds heavier than I want to be, and while I am munching on a spanakopita at 9 am (whole wheat?), I feel confident that once I'm settled into my new routine I'll get back on the fast track to stick skinny.  (I can't wait to get rid of these strange lumps forming on my chest btw.)


So without further adieu, here is my 2013 resolutions:

1. Kill it at work.  Network and scrap my way to the top.  My talent deserves it.  As does my wallet.

2. Stop letting myself go at 25.  Reinvest in some white strips, two a days at the gym, eat raw, and for god sakes throw away this hideous hair clip I use every day out of laziness.  Soon I'll be in high waist levis and letting my roots grow out to (gasp) brunette (ok less blonde, lets get real). but really, what's happening to me!  And another thing, why do i think its ok to eat cookies and chocolates everyday?  Enough is enough!

3. Express my creative side more.  Write more, heck maybe even bust out a pilot.  Paint more, bake more, take more photos, read more, hop into another scene study class.

4. Show the people in my life how important they are to me. Especially my mom. But I guess that boyfriend of mine could use a little more lovin' too. Alright fine, everyone could use a few more hugs from me I suppose.

2013 is going to be my year, I can feel it.

Christmas 2012 Recap

Since I neglected my blog for the month of December, I decided to picture montage my Christmas to segway into my New Years resolutions.   I had the most fabulous time at 21 Elm Street; it really doesn't get any better than family at Christmas.

Turtle Cheesecake bites

Alright, I had a little Christmas cheer in LA too:

A Beverly Hills Christmas

Marina Del Rey Boat Parade

Lessons learned:

1. Christmas trees in Beverly Hills are so sickeningly overpriced I had to give up grocery shopping for 2 months to purchase even the most pitiful oversized bush.   The same Christmas tree in Halifax cost $100 dollars less.

2. You're only as good as your gift.  And you cannot go wrong with scratch tickets for Yankee Swaps.  Score.

3. They call Yankee Swap parties "White Elephants" in Los Angeles.  I know. Morons.

4. Jews in Hollywood celebrate Christmas. ...but they still hate Jesus.

5. Latkes taste delicious! gefilte fish doesn't.

6. You're never too old to squeal over your pile of presents.

7.  Your parents are never too old to spoil rotten.  They squeal too if you do it right.

8. Eggnog induced hangovers are quite the stomach ache.

9. Just because someone gives you a box of See's candies, doesn't mean you have to finish the box that same day.  Remember, sharing is caring.

10.  Don't underestimate the power of a suburban housewife on the prowl at target. 

11. It's not Christmas without a few flurries. 

12. More importantly, it's not Christmas without your Mama, Papa and two dogs.  I cannot believe how blessed I am to have been raised at the farm that is 21 Elm Street.  Talk about a real upbringing by the two best friends anyone in the world could ask for.

Merry Christmas to all, and to all a goodnight.

The Ten Commandments of a Southern Belle

Now I have never been to At Lana Geooorgia, nor have I ever said bless his heart aloud, but my character study class at Aaron Speiser Studio led me to delve into a world that has always captivated my curiosity - that of a Southern Belle.

With the help of a good friend with Southern roots and some fabulous literature, I have concocted my own rendition of the 10 Commandments of the Southern Belle:


1.  There are two books that should be worn down to the binding by the age of 12: your bible and your etiquette book.   Well of course and a copy of "Gone with the Wind."

2. A true debutante would never cuss in front of her Momma or Daddy, let alone out in a public forum. Nor shall she chew gum, smoke cigarettes or become visibly drunk in a social setting.

3. Confusion and helplessness are fabulous tools, use them wisely and often to get your way.  But stand your ground - a southern belle does not get double crossed, by anyone.

4. You must never leave the house without having your face on.  You never know who you'll run into at the Club -- or even at the local grocers.  This goes for keeping nails chip free and curls perfectly pinned. Your hair can never be too big and your smile can never be too white.

5. A belle is born with real pearls and a set of fine silverware. And God bless her soul if she ever tries to pass of faux pearls for the real deal.  That is a Southern federal offense.  As is wearing white shoes after Memorial Day or before Easter - brides are the only exception.

6.  Always be peachy.. to everyone you meet.  You never know who is related to your future husband. Plus we girls take pride in our manners and charm - it practically oozes out of my pores! (which I might add are minuscule due to my strict face washing routine).  Oh wait, there is one exception to this rule.  Yankees.

7.  You are a jesus lovin, bible school teachin' Baptist - but your second religion is football. Can I get an amen! 

8. Pull out your fine china on weekdays and entertain as much as possible - there is no occasion too small for celebration! And might I add there is no celebration complete without a batch of the sweetest of sweet teas! Furthermore, thank you notes are a must. And it is never too early to write one.

9. Maintain a balance between community service, home making and a profession outside of the home. We are well educated Delta Pis who are not afraid to juggle it all if we so please! Of course, it is completely acceptable and almost enviable to have the luxury to dismiss the latter and allocate more time for life's two guilty pleasures: shopping on Peachtree and trips to the beach. Personally.. too much work gives me the vapors.

10. Do not throw your sexuality around to attract a beaux. Act like a lady and you will find yourself a gentleman.

A "Breliant" Thanksgiving - The full thanksgiving low down

My boyfriends last name is Breliant - it's funny.

So my mom came out for Turkey day and in an effort to show of my domestication, i decided to take on the task of Thanksgiving dinner.  And not to inflate my own head, but this was a Martha Stewart esque day.  Actually, I retract that.  This surpassed Marty S - and that's not an exaggeration.  Best thanksgiving i have ever enjoyed, and all thanks to me.  (with a little help from Matt I suppose). 

TURKEY:

brine it overnight.  As in buy the most expensive turkey they have in the store (it's worth it), rip out all the gizzards and other filthy stuff inside, and leave the turkey submerged in a pot overnight with ice water, and kosher salt.  It's as easy as that.

Next morning, preheat the oven to 315, give the patted dry turkey an olive oil and butter massage and sprinkle with salt, fresh rosemary, thyme, basil, garlic, pepper and sage.  Stuff the bad boy and fill the pan with a cup of chicken broth, carrots, 1 chopped onion, and mushrooms.   Tie up turkey legs with kitchen ties. cook 20 minutes per pound of turkey.  (if you are on a time crunch do 350 at 12 minutes a pound) open oven each hour to baste turkey. Cover with tin foil until last hour.  For the last hour only keep the wings covered in tin foil. 

STUFFING:

Night before cut up a sourdough loaf into crouton sized bites, drizzle with olive oil and add garlic.  leave covered overnight. 

Grill garlic sausage in pan.  Cut into tiny bits. cook with one chopped onion. 

cook sourdough pieces on 350 for 10 minutes 

combine bread and sausage/onions (with the grease!) with: 1 egg, rosemary, sage, thyme, garlic, pepper, 1 cut up green apple, craisins, and chopped pecans. 

MASHED POTATERS:

Boil 8-10 peeled and cubed potatoes.  While still hot beat with 1 stick butter, 1/2 cup reduced fat milk, 1 package reduced fat cream cheese, cut up chives, 5 minced garlic cloves, 1/2 cup parmesan cheese, ground pepper. 

CRANBERRY SAUCE:

Boil 1 cup water, add a bag of fresh cranberries and cook for 10 minutes.  After 10 minutes reduce to low heat and add 1/4 cup flavored brandy (I like peach), 1/2 cup orange juice, 1/4 cup maple syrup, 1 cup sugar, chopped pecans or macadamia nuts, 3 tsp cinnamon, and whatever else you have: chopped pear, shredded coconut, blackberries, chopped dates, pistachios, mandarin orange slices, really whatever tickles your fancy. 

PUMPKIN PIE:

1/2 can of Libbys pumpkin puree, 1 cup of sugar (i like half brown half white), 1 tsp vanilla extract, pinch of salt, 1 can condensed milk, 2 eggs, 1 tsp ginger, 3 tsp cinnamon.  Pour into prebaked graham cracker crust. 

Cook for 15 minutes at 425, reduce to 350 and cook for 40 minutes. Cover edged of pie with tin foil.  

Refrigerate for an hour before serving and don't you dare serve without whip cream.