Went to Jewel Bako Makimono last night with Rob. In a nutshell — yum. I even tried some new things — sushi came somewhat late in life for me, post-college, so I tend to stick to the basics, like tuna, salmon, and yellowtail. But not last night. I was so incredibly tired after the meal, however, that I retired to the couch. In before midnight on a weekend for the first time in ages. I think I needed that!
Tien called them "glommitts," Manhattan Transfer called them "bum-finger gloves." Call them what you will, but I absolutely love mine. I now have two pairs, and they are a savior when dealing with cell phones, metrocards, and everything else.
To continue the bday season (not mine anymore, sadly), last night was a birthday party at Double Happiness for a good friend from high school and his boyfriend, and tonight is Manhattan Transfer’s bday. He has assured me that there will be plenty of debauchery and cute single boys. What more can a girl ask for, really? Between now and then I have a bunch of errands to do, including getting my bridesmaid’s dress for Erika and Jeremy’s upcoming wedding altered. Erika, being the fabulous friend that she is, picked a super-hot, black Vera Wang number that not only will I be able to wear again, but it shows off my cleavage beautifully! Hey — if you’ve got it, flaunt it.
See you at the party!
If you haven’t already, go check out my friend and neighbor Manhattan Transfer’s list of 240(ish) bars below 14th Street. I’m tellin’ ya, life is great down here. It’s a fabulous neighborhood for alcoholics social drinkers, and in fact, the NYC Health Department highlighted our tendencies for "heavy drinking" in a recent study, Alcohol Use in New York City. So go pick a bar off of the list and make your neighbors proud!
Ellen and I co-hosted a birthday party at the Magician last night. It was so wonderful to have such a rich cross-section of all the folks in my life: friends from high school, college, camp, bloggers, wine club society, and other assorted riff-raff with whom I socialize. The only downside to hosting a big party in a crowded bar — not enough time or space to talk to everyone who came. Thanks to everyone who made it out, and extra-special thanks to the crew who made it for late-night karaoke at Winnie’s!
You can see the whole album here (and yes, the photo above was posted through flick’r).
. . . but not for any of the reasons that some of you (especially those who know me well) might be thinking. Have you checked out the commentary on my Gothamist Food post?! It has actually been a very interesting discussion, despite the personal attacks. Thanks to those of you who have lent your voices in support of my honor, or stupidity, or whatever it is.
In case you were wondering about the "amazing opportunity" provided to me by the blizzard: Gothamist Visits Per Se. No, it was not a smart financial decision, but it was definitely worth it.
On days when I’m out of the office all day, I like to use the opportunity as a way to eat lunch either somewhere new or somewhere I can’t usually eat because it’s nowhere near my office. For example, last year, when I was stationed at the Legal Tech conference all day, I visited one of the Daisy May’s chili carts for the first time. Friday, I was at a continuing legal education training at 22nd and Park, and we were on our own for lunch. During the morning training session I tried to figure out what I would be eating, and then it hit me. I was close to Bao Noodles, and although we might not have time to sit and eat, we would certainly have time to get banh mi sandwiches to take out and bring back. Perfect. I enlisted my friend Kwanza from the City Bar to come along with me. We made our pilgrimage, and returned just in time for the start of the afternoon sessions. Their banh mi sandwiches are delicious, with grilled pork, spicy mayo, and pickled vegetables all on a toasted baguette, but at $6.95 they’re certainly more expensive than their Chinatown counterparts.
The rest of the day continued on a very positive food note as well. Dinner was a trip to Una Pizza Napoletana, followed by wine at Bellavitae, a new spot right in the hood on Minetta Lane that I’d like to check out when I haven’t just eaten — their simple, Italian menu seems to have been prepared with extreme care to highlight their high-quality ingredients, and the atmosphere was cozy and warm on a cold winter night.
During dinner, I got an automated phone call telling me that my flight to Maine on Saturday had been cancelled. I was supposed to go up for a small memorial service for my grandmother, but the blizzard got in the way. We’re having another memorial here in New York in March, though. The blizzard did provide me with an amazing opportunity, however. More on that later . . .
This is what happens when you’re a regular at a place that serves condiments along with their cheese plate and they want to make you laugh:
Plus, there haven’t been nearly enough pictures up here this week. This piece of art is composed of two of the amarone cherries, a dab of the apricots with chili flakes and mustard seed, and my favorite, the truffled honey.
So I’ve been taking it easy this weekend. I stayed in Friday night to watch Donnie Darko and John B. ended up keeping me company, which was much nicer than watching it alone — I wasn’t really in the mood for solitude after my very anti-social week. Saturday I had brunch with some lovely ladies who blog, and then a few of us wandered down to Chinatown in the bitter cold to continue chatting and shopf for a few things. Later that night, I had dinner with my mom and stepfather, then met up with my friend Lauren for coffee. And since I had to walk by Otto on my way home, I had to check in the window to see who was there, and of course I saw Nic, David and Luke (from the wine club society). I stopped in, but kept the drinking to a minimum and was still in bed at a reasonable hour.
Today, laundry, easing back into exercise, and some job-hunt-related stuff. Next week is back to full-speed, but I still have to be careful not to overdo it. We’ll see how it goes!
So I’m sitting here doing some work and I’ve got my iTunes on "party shuffle" mode, which, although it doesn’t really create the party-type atmosphere that might lift me out of the grey-day funk I seem to be in, makes me smile each time a new song comes up — I never know what’s going to be next. Kind of like my life, I suppose.
In between bouts of work, I’m cooking up some stuff which is going to end up being either enchiladas or some sort of mexican chicken, bean, and tortilla casserole, depending on how I feel when all the pieces are done. I’ve shredded the cheese, and am about to poach the chicken and make some enchilada-type sauce. I was inspired by a new cookbook on casseroles that I picked up on the cheap at Strand yesterday.
As for the rest of the weekend, Friday night I attempted to go to an opening-night party at Bombay Talkie, a spot billed as a "teahouse inspired by Bollywood and the street foods of India." Sounded great on the surface, but in reality, it was jam-packed, and the food wasn’t coming fast enough for me and my very hungry companion for the evening (although we did get a nice glass of Pinot Noir out of the deal). I’ll have to go check it out some other time. We skipped out and tried to go to Tia Pol, where I ran into a former colleague from Anderson Kill, but where they informed us that it would be an hour wait for a table. We chose to head elsewhere before hunger-induced crankiness (and wine-on-an-empty-stomach induced drunkness) set in. We ended up at a place called Bongo, which makes fantastic cocktails (including one hell of a sidecar) and a decent lobster roll. I found it a little overseasoned, like the one at Mermaid Inn, but the heavily buttered roll softened the seasoning somewhat. I still think I prefer Pearl for my NYC lobster rolls.
After dinner, I headed home, but caved in to that "I think I’ll just check in and see if anyone I know is at Otto" moment, which meant another glass of wine, and then through the magic of Dodgeball, ended up at The Stoned Crow, where I met up with Ned ("you know Ned through Nichelle," said Dodgeball). Although I stuck to water at that point, I was definitely up a little later than I had originally intended.
Saturday I had my friends Carrie and Brian over for brunch — made a frittata, which is my favorite thing to make for brunch-time company. Acting very decadent, we made mimosas, and even had a little caviar and sour cream on rye toasts. We were all a little too hungover to really dive in to anything but the fritatta, however. After brunch, I did a few errands, and then some quiet time on the couch before heading to the Black Table party at Slainte. I certainly took it easy, and went to bed at a reasonable hour, but I still had a great time catching up with some of my favorite bloggers, and my non-blogger (a.k.a. "normal") friend David even stopped by to say hello for a while.
Tonight I’m going to the gym, eating some of whatever I end up whipping up, and then early to bed so I can get a jump start on the week — have a lot to do and I need to be energized, refreshed, and ready to tackle it all. Let the party begin.
This week has been strange, to say the least. There were the highs, like the amazing dinner I had at Hearth (a very generous and thoughtful birthday present from my friend Rob); catching up with my friend Sara at Dos Caminos (she was also sweet enough to bring along a belated birthday present); and a few quiet nights at home to get organized and to relax. Then there were the lows — my Grandma Jane passed away. She died fairly quickly, peacefully, and without pain, and she had lived a very long life close to her friends and family. She loved to complain about George W. ("what a moron"), correspond with friends she made and kept over the years across the globe, talk about her travels, read the New York Times ("keeps me up on the hustle and bustle of New York"), and even managed to go online every day to read Le Monde in French. We’ll miss her very much. When I talked to my mom last night, she pointed out that I no longer have any living grandparents. For a brief moment, I felt very empty — at one point I had four grandmothers and one grandfather (the beauty of remarriage). She then added that I still have plenty of parents (two sets, in fact); the moment passed.
