Sweet Blog O'Mine

Category: Life

  • Austin Report

    Made it back safely from Austin and the conference — three days full of schmoozing and eating, although I didn’t get to see much of the city, unfortunately.  Strangely enough, I also didn’t really take any pictures, even of the food.  Not really sure why.  I arrived late on Wednesday night and had delicious pork mole enchiladas, spicy tuna ceviche, and a margarita or two at Manuel’s with my co-worker, Mark, then rose bright and early to set up at the conference.  I truly enjoy going to these things, as it gives me a chance to see the folks I usually only get to interact with via phone and email.

    Thursday night I met up with my friend Sarah, and it was so good to catch up with her over nibbles at Z’Tejas (including a very good seared tuna).  Considering the last time we saw each other was December, there was certainly plenty to discuss.  As she went back to studying, I met up with some folks for First Thursday — the first Thursday of each month people congregate on South Congress Street, where the stores stay open late and there’s music, crafts, and plenty of Shiner Bock, the local beer.  We ended up at El Sol y La Luna, where I made room for a barbacoa taco, although when my companions got ice cream at Amy’s, I had to bow out (I know, me give up food?!  I was full!).

    The next morning, I was up early once again, but this time for breakfast with Andy from Bronx Defenders at Las Manitas.   Andy, like me, had done his food research, even going so far as to buy a book on Mexican food in Austin.  No wonder we get along so well.  We had the Mexican coffee, with a dash of cinnamon, a perfect companion to the mild spiciness of the tomatillo sauce in my chilaquiles.  My new mission is to find a place in New York like this — cheap, fresh, amazing Mexican food, particularly breakfast.  If you know of any, especially in Manhattan, let me know — I get the feeling there’s probably something like it in Queens, but that’s not too practical for weekdays, at least.   After a day at the conference, I went with my Pro Bono Net team (Mark and Liz) to watch some dancing at La Zona Rosa (the official conference social event of the night), but then we peeled off to head to Threadgill’s for some Texas home cooking.  Although I could have gotten a meal composed purely of fried things (chicken fried steak, fried green tomatoes, fried okra), I stuck to the fried catfish and kept the remainder of the meal unfried. 

    Saturday, I had breakfast at Las Manitas again (it was soooo good, I just had to.  Plus it was close to the hotel.  I couldn’t resist.), then packed and headed off to the airport.  I grabbed a Salt Lick BBQ brisket sandwich for the plane (I noticed it at the airport when I landed.  Even if it didn’t travel all that well, it sure beats airplane food), and made it safely back home.   After all the eating, I have to say that the $15 charge to use the gym for the duration of my stay at the hotel was money very well spent.  Thanks to the Chowhounds and Allison for the food ideas!

  • A Dodgeball Story

    Sometimes I really feel like I know everybody.  Well, maybe not everybody, but I certainly know a hell of a lot of people.  When I met my friend Katie last fall, someone told her that if she talks to me for ten minutes, we’ll find out that we know at least one person in common.  And of course, that’s exactly what happened. 

    But this weekend’s small world story is thanks to the magic of Dodgeball.  Unlike the recent article in New York Magazine, this had nothing to do with dating, but I think Dennis will get a kick out of it nonetheless.

    So on Saturday night, I went to a birthday party, and I checked into Dodgeball, letting my group of friends know where I am.  In that group is one Andrew Hearst.  About 20 minutes later, he showed up and said, "I’d like you to meet my friend, Matthew Price."  Matthew is the brother of Ali, a very close childhood friend with whom I have recently reconnected, but I had not seen Matthew since I moved to New York from D.C. — about 1981 (24 years, which is terrifying enough on its face).  Turns out Andrew and Matthew go back a number of years, having worked together at Lingua Franca, and Andrew had been explaining Dodgeball to Matthew when my message came in.  He explained, "here’s a message from my friend Laren."  Matthew recognized the (rather unusual) name, so they figured out the small world coincidence.  Turns out Matthew’s a bit of a foodie as well, so we’re all going to go out together and hit one of the new barbecue joints.

    On top of that, last night I was at a pizza party for the Kismet house, when I ran into a woman who looked very familiar.  Turns out that she and I had taken a nonprofit management class together at Wagner School of Public Service (and when we did, we realized we knew someone in common — a woman from my childhood in D.C.).  She’ll be in the house this summer.

    Makes me realize that despite its size, New York really does manage to feel like a small community, and I absolutely love that.

  • Explanations: Why I Am the Way I Am

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    In case anyone out there was wondering why, despite the fact that I live alone, there’s enough food in my cabinets and freezer to feed me for a month, take a look at my family’s cabinets.  I’m convinced that if my dad and stepmother were trapped for three months in their house, between the cabinets and the freezer, they’d be just fine.  Here’s my (one measly) cupboard, for comparison.  Clearly, I’ve picked up the same habit.

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  • Jackasses — Not Just for Dating Anymore

    So I’m walking to work this morning and I paused at the corner to allow a van to turn in front of me.  The guy driving had the fucking New York Post perched on his steering wheel, apparently trying to read while he was driving.  Hell, if there are morons like this guy creating life hazzards for me every day, I might as well overindulge in foie gras and truffle butter (and pork products) before getting squashed by one of them on my way to work.

  • The Tracks of My Tears

    Beatrice -- courtesy of Anna and James PhotographyI’ve never understood how women in the movies look so good when they cry.  Sure, their eyes exude sadness, and tears may flow, but they somehow still manage to look pretty, composed, and even delicate.  Not me.  When I cry, it’s a full-fledged disaster.  My face gets splotchy and squinched up, my eyes turn beet red, my nose runs — absolutely hideous.  And once I start, it’s very hard to stop.  A good cry can have me going for a while, and I’m completely exhausted once it’s over.  The times I’ve cried at work are probably the worst.  Back in my litigator days, a (very evil) partner made me cry once.  Although I made it safely back to my office before the tears started, lord knows my puffy, red eyes were a dead giveaway to anyone who saw me after the fact.  You should also know that I don’t only cry when I’m sad.  Oh no.  That would be way too boring and predictable.  I also cry when I’m angry, or even frustrated, which I’ve noticed sometimes has the unwanted effect of diluting my side of a particularly impassioned argument.  But unfortunately, I can’t really help it. 

    If any of those actresses want to see what a real crying jag looks like, they should give me a call.  I"ll show ’em how it’s done, and maybe I can even make a few extra bucks on the side.

    My favorite crying photo, courtesy of Anna and James Photography.

  • Even More Decadence

    But this time, not food-related (shocking!).  For the first time in years, I got desperate and sent out a load of laundry instead of doing it myself.  Okay, I realize this is not in the least bit luxurious for the majority of people I know, but for me, it is.  They fold everything up so nicely, and even put your (folded!) socks and underwear in their own little bags.  Love it.

    I could totally get used to this . . .

  • Shoot Me Now, Take Two

    First there was the Google thing.  Now, turns out I was yesterday’s Gawker Personal ad of the day.  Since when did I become the poster child for single women in New York?!?  Ack!

    UPDATE (4/26):  So today, I’m the Salon personals "Catch of the Day."  Who knows where I’ll end up next. . .

  • Decadence and Gluttony

    Yep.  That about sums up the weekend.  It began slowly.  I stopped at Whole Foods on the way home from work on Friday night and whipped up a Thai red curry with shrimp and veggies.  Then, things ramped up a bit.  The next morning, as I was washing dishes, my phone rang — Augie, on the other end, said simply, "I just read about the best pancakes in the city.  We must go get them now."  So I obliged.  I joined Augie and Lauren for an exceptional brunch at the Clinton Street Baking Company, featuring plenty of maple butter drizzled over light and fluffy blueberry pancakes, a divine lobster bisque, and some out-of-this-world huevos rancheros.  Saturday continued later that evening with a Dine in Brooklyn dinner at Minnow with my brother and Sarah, and a late night (or early morning) nibble at the Snack Dragon taco shack (mmm . . . pork tacos). 

    decadenceSunday I was awakened by the phone ringing at about 10:45.  Augie.  Again.  "We’re going to Prune."  "I can’t."  "Why not?"  "I’m broke."  "I’m treating.  We’ll be down in 15 minutes."  "Um, okay."  The hour-plus wait was well worth it for what is now my favorite carbonara in the city, peppery and full of parmesan, not to mention the monte cristo and the spicy bloody marys.  To top it off, my afternoon was spent drinking Cristal and caviar (thanks, Alvin!) on a terrace overlooking Washington Square Park.  I rounded out the weekend with the Brazilian Muse’s birthday celebration, complete with greek delicacies, an amazing cake (courtesy of La Depressionada), and, of course, cupcakes.

    Thankfully, there were a few trips to the gym squeezed in there, along with some late-night dancing to burn at least a little of it off.  This weekend emphasized one thing — no matter what other random crap I have going on at the moment, my life is definitely good.   Cheers.

    PS — the second society wedding I attended recently just showed up in this Sunday’s NYT.  Congrats Jon and Sarah!

  • Some Assistance Please?

    Can some of you lovely gentlemen readers out there shed some light on this male behavior pattern?  Boy meets girl.  Boy and girl go out on a date, spend several hours having interesting conversations, making connections, laughing, sharing stories.  Boy and girl part ways.  Boy calls/emails girl the following day and says something like, "I had a great time — are you free next week?" or "You remember we talked last night about Corner Bistro — I’ve never been, do you want to go?"  "Sure," says girl, and tosses out some dates in the near future.  Boy disappears, never to be heard from again. 

    Explain this if you can, as I am completely and utterly befuddled.  Any assistance would be greatly appreciated.

  • My Apologies

    134_3409 . . . for the slow blogging.  Have been feeling a tad too busy lately, but I least I got a good night’s sleep last night.  Sunday night I was attacked by insomnia and couldn’t fall asleep until after 3 AM.  Um, can someone say "stress?"  Blech.

    Ok — off to work to move our office across the hall.  My third office move with Pro Bono Net!   Oh — and don’t forget to check out the crawfish.  Story on Gothamist this afternoon.  Just like mini-lobsters!