How is it that the weekend wasn’t long enough to get half of the things done that I needed to do? I did accomplish some things — had a tough workout, made some soup, some homemade granola (a holiday gift), did two loads of laundry, and did some errands, but I didn’t finalize my new Gothamist contributors (ack!), sign my work holiday cards, or make butter crunch toffee (another holiday gift). If only I could have one more weekend day . . .
Author: Laren
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Sing, Sing a Song
One of the things I love about the city is the number of people you can pass in any given day who are singing out loud as they go about their day. Really — you should try counting one day. I think the number has gone up since the advent of the iPod, but I’m firmly convinced that there’s something about the streets of New York that make people feel anonymous enough that they feel comfortable singing. And yes, I’m one of those people, so you can count me in your tally.
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Why the Light Posting?
Let’s see — it’s a combination of the following:
work
food events
holiday parties
catching up with friends
writing for Gothamist
hitting the gym
Lost addiction -
Takin’ it Slow
There’s still more Paris to recount, but I’ve been writing for Gothamist for a while tonight, so I don’t really have it in me right now.
Had a solid weekend — not too busy, but not too slow. Friday night I had drinks after work with Gabriella, then we joined up with some beach house types to see our friend Jenn do some stand up comedy (she rocked, by the way). Saturday morning I stopped by to visit Jon at the Real Food Market, then headed out to Park Slope for brunch at Jay and Catherine’s in honor of Skooz’s visit to NYC. I got to meet Jonathan and Jen’s most recent addition to the family (welcome, Nadia!), then went off to meet my brother and his friends for a bit. I headed back to the big island to meet Connie for coffee, than relaxed a while before meeting up with Jimmy for a snack and a holiday party. At about 11, Rob and I hit Momofuku’s Ssam Bar, which I had been meaning to try for ages. It was delicious — the late night menu rocks, but I’m looking forward to going back with a larger crew so we can try more things (pork butt, anyone?). Today was quiet — a trip to the gym, weeding through Gothamist contributors, reading the paper, and a few episodes of Lost. Jen came over for a bit to catch up and taste a product I’m sampling for Gothamist, and I’ve been writing since she left.
I am trying hard to slow down a bit. This year, I’ve been very proud of the amount of time I’ve dedicated to the gym, but I need to dedicate some more time to just relaxing. Alone. I’ve been so tired lately, and I was talking to my friend John about it the other night. "Of course you’re tired!" he exclaimed, "You have the busiest social life of anyone I know."
It’s true. I am a social creature by nature (as you’ve probably figured out if you’re a regular reader or a friend), and I find that just by making plans in advance to catch up with everyone I want to see, my schedule gets booked up very quickly. As I look ahead to the coming week, I’m free one night — tomorrow — and that’s only after hitting a food event right after work. It counts as free because I’ll be home by about 8:30 or 9, leaving me some downtime. Wednesday night is a class (so it doesn’t count as a social event), but the other nights I have work stuff, holiday parties, and plans, or some combination thereof.
I’m hoping to make sure that I block off at least two nights a week to myself from now on, possibly more. How much time do you deliberately block off for yourself — is it enough?
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Paris Recap, Part 2
After sleeping for 11 hours, I geared up and wandered across the Seine to the Jardin du Luxembourg, where my Dad told me that he saw many Parisians jogging. I got completely lost on the way there, but had a lovely walk, and after a good run I wandered back along a different route, taking in the sights and sounds of the city on my way back. I landed back in the ‘hood just in time to wander through the market, catching a whiff of some delectible roast chicken as I walked through. I was tempted to buy some scallops, as they were gorgeous, sitting in their shells, but I passed, and headed home for a shower.
Carlos had invited me to join him and some friends at the racetrack that afternoon. As we attempted to coordinate, I realized just how much I take my cell phone for granted. Dad and Joan had given me a calling card, so I was able to use a payphone to call Carlos’ cell phone, but of course he couldn’t call me back. He was off having brunch, so I wandered around some more, stopping for a falafel sandwich along the way, and checked in with him every so often to check on his progress. Despite the telecom difficulties, we finally were able to meet up at the Hippodrome at the Bois de Boulogne. I opted out of the gambling, but enjoyed watching Carlos and his friends lose all their money (probably about 10 euros combined).
After the races, I returned back to the apartment to warm up and got ready for dinner. I decided to take a chance and headed to L’Atelier de Joel Robuchon. Arriving at 9:30 on a Sunday night, I was dismayed to hear that I’d have to wait for over an hour for a seat. Apparently, in Paris they eat as late as we do in New York, even on school nights. After a short walk and a half a glass of wine in the adjoining hotel lobby, the hostess called me in — I don’t even think it was 1/2 hour. I sat at the sleek bar and examined the menu. I decided to stick to the tasting portions, so I’d be able to try more dishes without getting too full. I began with the foie gras (take that, Gothamist commenters!), and got a glass of sauternes to accompany it. My next course was a delicate lobster ravioli with black truffle butter atop green cabbage. I had to sop up every drop of the sauce with my bread — yum. At that point, I couldn’t decide if I wanted to go for another tasting course, so I chose conservatively, and headed straight for dessert, a pair of pots au creme — one chocolate and one vanilla — accompanied with a glass of moscato. The entire restaurant is bar seating, which is nice — I ended up chatting with the couple to my right in a mix of French and English about their dining adventures in New York — Daniel, Jean Georges. Clearly I should hang out with these people the next time they come to town. The bartenders/waiters were very friendly as well, and for whatever reason, they not only comped my moscato, but gave me another glass on the house. I took a cab home and, pleasantly full, slept quite well.
As my mom pointed out in an email, I must be very busy this week since I haven’t updated the blog. She’s right — I’ve been busy and tired, so I apologize for the slow posting.
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Paris Recap, Part 1
I’ve gotten a bit of grief from the peanut gallery that I haven’t given a detailed rundown of my Paris trip, so here goes. As a bit of background, with the exception of my last night, I stayed at a studio apartment owned by Blue Marble, the company through which I’ve done my bike trips to Provence, Tuscany, and Galicia. It was very centrally located in the 2ieme arrondissement, close to the Chatelet les Halles metro. I’ve been to Paris a number of times before, so really didn’t feel the need to do a whole bunch of touristy things — I really just wanted to unwind, decompress, see a few people, and see what it was like to travel alone. Aside from the bike trips, which are with a group, I really haven’t done much solo traveling.
I left New York on the day after Beaujolais day — the day when the Beaujolais Nouveau is released. My friend John has an annual party celebrating this day every year, and although I was sad to miss it, I was offered my own mini-bottle on the plane, so I felt like I was there in spirit. I was also excited to learn that my seat was upstairs on the plane — a new flying experience for me (next time, I wouldn’t mind a first class upgrade instead, but we’ll see). I arrived around lunchtime and was pleased to discover that Carlos, who led my Galicia trip, was not only closeby, but literally in the apartment next door. We caught up over a cup of tea and then I set out to do some shopping for provisions for breakfast and snacks for the week. I picked up the staples (bread, cheese, red wine) and then got the rest. After dropping off the goods at my apartment, I went to meet Robyn, a fellow food blogger who is currently spending a semester in Paris. While she’s there, she contributes weekly to Parisist. We had agreed to meet up for pastry at Ladurée on the Champs Elysées. We finally found each other and shared delicious pastry and coffee while chatting about her ongoing quest to sample all the pastries in Paris. I strolled home after dark and took in the lights of the city, and when I got home, recruited Carlos and his friend Catalina (which I may be spelling wrong, so please forgive me) to help me drink my bottle of wine. The jetlag finally hit and I headed off to bed.
More to come, but for now, Gothamist calls. I should have made more time to post over the weekend, but it was a bit of a whirlwind, with the first holiday party of the season, dinner with Mom, our monthly girl brunch, a great deal of time in the outer boroughs, some major paper purging (I can see my dining table!), and completion of the first season of Lost. Tonight, I’m off to join Jon for a close up view of Wheelhouse Pickles in the making.
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You Can Take the Woman out of the Fight . . .
Sorry for the slow posting this week — I haven’t even given you all the Paris rundown yet, or given you rant about one of Bush’s recent appointments that I’ve been thinking about. I’ve been busy catching up from a week off at work and not sleeping enough, so I’m very much looking forward to the weekend.
One fun thing that happened this week is that I started taking a self-defense class for the first time in ages — I’m re-taking the Advanced class, which I took a few years ago. As you may recall, I had been teaching the Basics class, but between the new job and Gothamist, I took a hiatus from teaching. Getting back into a class has made me realize how much I enjoyed teaching — perhaps I’ll get back into that if life ever slows down a bit. The transition from teacher to student is very hard, I’ll have to admit. I keep wanting to coach people and offer tips. But, regardless, I am just as proud of my new battle wounds as I have been in past classes. And boy, do I LOVE the feeling of kicking the shit out of the guys in class!
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Foie Gras Follies
I really do enjoy writing anything about foie gras on Gothamist because it gets the commenters all up in a tizzy. My favorite quote from one of them on yesterday’s post: "It could be made from the hearts of a 1,000 little kittens and I would still think it was dee-lish-ous!"
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A Picture of Paris
I barely took any pictures in Paris. Perhaps it’s because I already have so many from prior trips, but I think it’s more because I spent a great deal of time walking around to and from the Jardin de Luxembourg, where I went running (sans camera). But — enjoy the pictures I took.
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The Fast Track
Congrats to Tom, who has become the third guy I’ve dated to get engaged and/or married in less than a year of dating someone. Now we just get to wait and see about the rest of the insta-family cycle.