Sweet Blog O'Mine

Category: Life

  • Fall Ahead

    Kismet lighthouse

    I spent my last "official" weekend out in Kismet this past weekend.  I was actually happy that the house was quieter than usual — a perfect pace to wind down and truly enjoy every ray of sun, each grain of sand, and the welcoming waves mellowed by the presence of the full moon.  I couldn’t have asked for a better conclusion to a great summer.  I won’t even get into the food, except to say that the fried turkey and deep fried oreos were even better this time around than they were Memorial Day weekend (having the proper equipment helps).  I didn’t take many pictures, and certainly couldn’t capture the gorgeous red moon that was so huge and perfectly illuminated that it looked like part of a stage set, but a few pictures are up on flickr for your enjoyment.

    I’m now starting to gear up for fall — shopping for warmer clothes, welcoming the incoming class of associates at work, and generally feeling like I should go out and buy school supplies, even though I totally don’t need them.  As I mentioned, I truly want to slow down a bit this fall and take more time for myself, as I feel somewhat overloaded, but this week is already lining up to be a doozy.  My one mandatory staying-in night was just displaced by the Katrina benefit concert, and then I’m booked solid with social engagements for the rest of the week.  I’m looking forward to all of them, but between work, writing, and my social calendar, there is no real down time.  That said, I’m off to read some Harry Potter and go to sleep so I can get an early start in the morning.

    PS — for those of you who haven’t been getting your email updates, I think it’s fixed now.  Bloglet never tells me when there’s a problem . . .

  • From New Orleans to Brooklyn

    So it turns out that the high school student who relocated to Brooklyn from New Orleans and who was featured in this New Yorker article is in my brother’s class (he’s a teacher).  The word in the legal services/pro bono community is that there are roughly 500 evacuees in New York so far, and that number may increase soon. 

  • Dating Yourself

    Friends often tell tell me I date a lot, which I think is weird and not entirely accurate.  I suppose it depends on your definition of the word "date."  I was at a barbecue this weekend (hosted by Stephen to celebrate Joanna’s birthday) and was comparing my dating history this past year with a friend’s.  She was recalling how, for her, this past spring was a dry spell.  "I dated myself," she said.  She then went on to make jokes about how she always called when she said she would, and that it was all fine and good until she cheated on herself, but I started to think a bit about the times when the dates aren’t there — when there’s nobody in the bullpen™* and the most important person in your life is, well, you.  I started to realize that, so far this year, I have been running myself ragged, and now that the circumstances are what they are, it might not be a bad idea to date myself — to give myself that extra special care that I need, be it in the form of extra sleep, a weekly Pilates class, healthy eating, and/or enough down time to avoid being in a constant state of stress.  So at the moment, I’m dating myself, and damn it — I’m one hot date.

    As for the rest of my weekend, Friday night I finally got to enjoy a meal at Gusto — looking forward to going back soon.  The Lovely Miss Katie, her college roommate and I shared the frito misto de pesce which included small softshell crabs, a grilled focaccia with figs and prociutto, artichoke ravioli in a sinful butter sauce, and polpettini — petite meatballs in a hearty tomato sauce.  Dessert was a light and tart lemon panna cotta and, strangely enough, I can’t remember the second dessert — except that it was good.  How very unlike me.  After Saturday’s barbecue (where Doug and Leora stopped by for a bit), I headed to Jenn & Carolyn’s for a party and enjoyed yet another Brooklyn backyard.  Very jealous of that, I tell ya.  Ended up at ‘inoteca quite late with Roopa and Anj, which made Sunday a bit mellow.  Thanks to the Brooklyners for their hospitality and to all others for the great company.

    *trademarked by the Lovely Miss Katie, who is her own date this week at a yoga retreat.

  • The Good News

    is that I got up early, worked out, folded last night’s laundry and made a very healthy egg white frittata with spinach, mushrooms and onions to take to work for breakfast.  The bad news — I have no time for a decent post.  More to come on the weekend and thoughts on "dating yourself."

  • During the Past 24 Hours . . .

    I noticed that my reviews of Cubana Café and Fuleen Seafood are finally up on NY Metro.
    I introduced myself to Mario Batali after using Otto as my surrogate living room for 2+ years.
    I gawked at Jake Gyllenhaal while he hung out in my "living room."
    I spoke to the Executive Director of New Orleans Legal Assistance, whose staff is 75% homeless and yet they are still trying to figure out how to meet the legal needs of their constituents.
    I saw the Tribute in Light —  between that and the meetings I’ve attended about the legal community’s response to Hurricane Katrina, I’m having major déjà vu.
    I might have lost half my "business casual" wardrobe to the drycleaners.
    I was given a pink rose corsage by my doorman when I came home this evening.

    Just another day in my life.

  • L’Chaim*

    Theboil_1Although it had been planned since the beginning of the summer, if not longer, there was something somewhat bittersweet about having a shrimp boil out at the beach this weekend.  It made me very sad in some ways, as I thought about the loss of the rich culinary culture of the New Orleans but so grateful in others, as I realized that I was surrounded with great people about whom I care a great deal.  I am very, very lucky, and although each one of us gets wrapped up in our own personal problems — the stress of a job search, the trials and tribulations of dating, health issues, death of loved ones — a tragedy like Hurricane Katrina really puts everything into perspective.  I’m happy to be alive and living the life I have.  The rest of the pictures from the weekend are here. 

    * Once again, proving that I’m a bad jew, using a Jewish toast in a post about a boil that included at least two separate and distinct types of traif — shrimp and sausage.

  • There Are Times

    when I really wonder about my own sanity.  Like when I find myself with Abracadabra by the Steve Miller Band stuck in my head.  It’s times like these when I really wish I had some sort of mind-eraser that would zap it right out of my brain.  Come to think of it, a gizmo like that would also come in handy for erasing the pain of bad breakups and possibly for re-training myself not to repeat the same romantic patterns over and over again.  Hmmm.  Maybe I can find one on eBay.

  • A Temporarily Empty Glass

    Davidn"What the . . .?  Who the . . .?  ‘Ello, luv."  That’s David’s typical greeting for me when I run into him at Otto or ‘inoteca.  When I first met him at Otto, we got along well, chatting about this, that, and the other thing, and discovering that we both sang in a cappella groups in college.  He gave me his email address, and so I emailed him, but I never heard back.  "Jackass," I thought.  I learned a few weeks later that he was coming as a guest to our wine club society.  "The jackass who never emailed me back?!  Great." 

    But despite the rocky start, David and I eventually became friends.  We weren’t necessarily the kind of friends who called each other up to go out one on one all the time — this only happened once in a blue moon — but we spent a great deal of time together regardless:  wine club society, foodies, late nights at Milady’s, New Year’s Day at Nic’s, dinners at Landmark, Bellavitae, Una Pizza Napoletana, and Per Se, among others, and, of course, countless nights at Otto and ‘inoteca.  He’s the only person I’ll allow to pick the pancetta off of my pancetta-wrapped shrimp at ‘inoteca (the crazy fool doesn’t eat seafood).  We’ve had some good bonding moments — I’m pretty sure I’m one of the few friends who knows the story behind the tattoo he won’t admit he has, and we’ve had at least one good boozy heart to heart conversation about relationships.  David has been ridiculously generous to me over time — admittedly due in part to his taste in wine — but it meant a great deal to me nonetheless.  David has become a good friend and a solid presence in my world, so I was stunned to learn that he would be heading to Iraq.  I’ve known it was coming for a few months now, but that didn’t make me cry any less after I said goodbye on Saturday night.  And considering the amount of time I spend at Otto, I’m sure I will still constantly be expecting him to stroll in.  Perhaps we should continue to pour a glass for him while he’s away.  Sort of like Elijah. 

    He’s due back sometime between Christmas and New Year’s.  I’ve promised him steak and boobies upon his return, and emails and care packages while he’s away.  He’s an ER doc, and I imagine he’ll be patching up wounded soldiers, which will keep him away from the front lines, but I’m scared nonetheless.  All I can hope is that he stays safe and returns quickly.  This is the closest I’ve come to war in my life, and I hope it stays that way.  David — I’m already looking forward to our next bottle of wine.

  • A Full Belly

    Well if I don’t have the energy to write a Gothamist column tonight, the least I can do is write something over here.  I’m feeling a little sluggish after the ribs and pulled pork at Blues, BBQ and Fireworks (lunch) and macaroni and cheese (dinner), but at least I went to the gym beforehand.  Thanks to all who joined in the feasting today — Katie, Rob, Augie, Lauren, Alvin, Debbie, Chip, and Jenn. 

    The rest of the weekend involved a few trips to the outer boroughs.  After a terrific dinner at Galanga (my new favorite neighborhood Thai joint) with my aunt, bro & sis, I went off to Park Slope to drink sangria in Kim’s new backyard, which was quite lovely.  We finished up with a glass or two of wine at Total Wine Bar.  Saturday I hit the farmers market in Union Square for the most luscious, ripe and fragrant berries and melon — blueberries, strawberries, blackberries, raspberries, and a cantaloupe — then Whole Foods for my favorite Greek yogurt to go with.  I’m all set for breakfast this week, that’s for sure!  Then I was off to Brooklyn again for dinner at D.O.C. Wine Bar followed by performance art (dance, video, music, and whatnot) at Galapagos, followed by a trip back to Manhattan to Otto, where we wished my friend David all the best before he shipped off to Iraq today.  More on that later, but I think we gave him a perfect send-off.  And now, off to bed with a full belly, and up early to get rid of it at the gym.

    On a totally unrelated side note, Life of Illusion by Joe Walsh and Heat of the Moment by Asia have both been stuck in my head since I heard them in the soundtrack for The 40-Year-Old Virgin last week.  Can’t wait for that sucker to be up on iTunes.

  • Ahh . . .

    I had a perfectly calm and relaxing night last night.  Leftovers from my Wednesday night cooking class (an international street food course, taught by the fine gentleman who taught my pig-roasting class and who will be joining me on the Vendy Awards judging panel), a stack of mail to sort through, a load of laundry, and crappy movies on TV.  Just what the doctor ordered.  And now back to our regularly scheduled craziness.