Sweet Blog O'Mine

Author: Laren

  • Triple Punch

    2004_08_0012_r1Last night was a triple combo — Tien’s wing night, a trip to NYC Icy, and karaoke. What else does one need, really? And this picture is really just to get back at Jake for the equally flattering shot he has up of me, which will conveniently be up for the next month while he’s off getting married. You can see the rest of the pictures here.

    Update: Ok, so he didn’t leave the picture up the whole month, but I’m so blogged out that I don’t have a whole new post for today — you’ll get to gaze at this lovely shot for a little while longer. . .

  • The Road to Hell is Paved with Good Intentions

    As a single woman, I have several well-meaning friends (most of whom are in couples) who, from time to time, mention that they’d like to set me up with someone. Now, although I am currently feeling somewhat laissez-faire about dating, I always reply positively. Sure, I say, just let me know when. Great, they say, we’ll arrange brunch/cocktails/dinner.

    Which never happens.

    I’m sure my reaction to this is somehow tied in to my feelings about timing and scheduling in general, but I would be absolutely shocked if one of these “set-ups” actually came to fruition. It’s not that my friends don’t mean well. They do. And even my family has tried to get into the game (Laren, we just talked to the Goldbergs and their 35-year-old son who lives in New York is single — isn’t that fantastic?!). But what they don’t realize is that it does me absolutely no good to hear that there’s some random guy out there they know whose company I might enjoy. I’m sure there are at least a few. The difference between the specific guy that has been discussed and the absolute stranger, however, is that there is someone I know, the aforementioned friend or family member, who can actually make a phone call or send an email to increase the odds that the two of us may actually meet. We may or may not like each other — who knows? But the bottom line is this — you are in a position to have some degree of influence over the situation. It’s not that hard to pull together a handful of people to grab a cocktail on any given night. I do it all the time. But if you’re not willing or able to make it happen, don’t even bother mentioning it. You might as well be saying to me, hey Laren, there’s this really cool guy I know that you might like; perhaps the two of you will bump smack into each other on a streetcorner one day. Yes, I respond, perhaps we will. There are only a few million people in Manhattan. I’ll keep my eye out for him.

  • Beer Garden — Before and After

    One of my fellow Gothamist writers, Tien, was kind enough to invite me to join him and some of his friends at the Bohemian Hall and Beer Garden out in Astoria on Saturday. I had wanted to go for a while, and the hot summer afternoon seemed like a perfect opportunity. See his pictures for the before shot — here’s the aftermath of the food carnage:

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    Rumor has it that there’s a Czeck and Slovak music festival there on August 22nd — sounds like a great way to spend a summer afternoon.

  • You Know You’re a Dork When . . .

    dorkknifeyou want one of these.

  • You’ve Been Blogfucked!

    Gotta love it when you get an email with that as the subject line. I’ll send you to Liza at Culture Kitchen, who does it oh-so-well. Once again, it was a pleasure mixing and mingling with the bloggerati, especially the lovely ladies who blog (and brunch).

  • Fried Gems at Pearl’s

    I know I’ve declared their lobster rolls the best in NYC, but there’s another dish at Pearl Oyster Bar that shouldn’t be missed — their fried oysters. Now, I realize that some people just don’t like oysters, and there’s nothing I can do or say to make those folks try them. Some people might be put off by the fact that we’re dealing with fried food — the image of greasy, soggy, heavy battered things pops into their heads. Cast those thoughts aside, people. Pearl’s fried oysters are light, with a crispy, salty batter on the outside, and the sweet, juicy oysters on the inside. The appetizer is served with a homemade tartar sauce, which is also completely unlike the goopy, gloppy stuff you might be used to from your past food nightmares. I don’t even particularly like tartar sauce, yet I was licking it off my fork. I will admit, I add a healthy splash of Tabasco to my oysters, but they’re perfect as served, with a squirt of lemon. You can also get them po’ boy style as an entree.

    I’ll probably do a more “formal” write-up for Gothamist Food, with pictures and all, but in the meantime, run over there and grab yourselves some fried oysters — you won’t regret it.

  • Now Serving: Gothamist Food!

    gotfoodAs you may know, I’ve been working on a new project — Gothamist Food. Gothamist is a blog about all things New York, and several months ago, they sent out a call for interested food writers and editors. Lo and behold, my love for NYC food (and ridiculous obsession with lobster) shone through in my past food writing, and now I’m the co-editor, along with Jeremy from Frost Street. We’ve rounded up some great contributors, including Joe DeSalazar from Foodie (read my Foodie post), GirlyNYC, and The Brazilian Muse — I hope you enjoy it! Please stop by and check it out, and be sure to leave comments, so I know you’ve been there.

  • And I Ran . . .*

    whaddaya want, a medal?Well, it certainly was a scorcher on Thursday night, but that didn’t stop me from finishing my 5K. It was crowded as hell, but there was something cool about wandering around in a sea of blue before the race started — we had numbered t-shirts in lieu of pin-on race numbers. Although my friends Doug and Jenn started with me, I waved them ahead as they sped up to a less-snail-like pace. Somehow, the course started and ended uphill, and there were definitely two moments when I thought I was getting slightly dizzy, but a brief glimpse of General Public kept me plugging on. I finished in what was, for me, a completely respectable time — here are my results.

    I have to say, I’m pretty damn proud of myself, although I’m not planning on making a habit out of running 5K’s. I just don’t enjoy it as much as cycling. And as Doug and Jenn learned, running that much makes me burp. Not pretty.

    I finished off the night with karaoke with some law school friends — thanks to Raj for organizing! You can see the pictures here.

    * A tribute to A Flock of Seagulls, who played along the route. Not that song, unfortunately.

  • Mourning for Fritto

    As I posted recently elsewhere (still in beta, but you can take a sneak peek), my beloved Otto is changing their menu — they are removing the fritto and replacing it with a selection of pastas. Yes, they are reasonable — under $10 each. But I have tasted two so far — the spaghetti alla carbonara and the spaghettini siciliana — and have been incredibly underwhelmed. The carbonara (which is one of my favorite dishes in the world, generally — I recently had a near-perfect rendition at Lupa) was super-salty, which distracted detracted from the overall experience, and I didn’t really care for the mix of flavors in the siciliana. I’d be willing to try some others, and I’m not saying they should remove the pastas, but my fritto?!? — sigh. No more calzone, oozing with cheese, no more gnocco fritto — a savory version of fried dough that was a perfect match with the prociutto, no more spicy, delicious ceci bottarga. What’s a girl to do? We’re making an attempt to voice our opinion with the proper authorities, and there’s a rumor that the fritto may make a re-appearance at the bar. This is fine — who eats at the tables anyway? Let’s keep our fingers crossed, shall we?

  • Just a Shout-Out to da Boyz

    Had lunch today with two of my former AKO colleagues. After weeks and weeks (and weeks) in the making, we ended up at Joe’s Shanghai, the midtown branch. Although the soup dumplings didn’t disappoint, the rest of the meal was a bit sketchy — the service was spotty and they managed to screw up two out of the three of our meals. Regardless, I just wanted to give a shout-out to Rich and Schmitter — it’s great to keep in touch, even after all this time (damn, we’re old). Back when we worked together, I never would have imagined that in five years’ time, we’d be having lunch together, talking about kids (their kids, mind you).

    After lunch, I stopped by Niketown to pick up my race number for Thursday night — wish me luck! Lord knows I’ll need it.