Sweet Blog O'Mine

v. 2.0

  • Time for a Post

    I know, I know.  Haven’t posted in ages.  Mea culpa.  I’ve just been
    knocking myself out at Gothamist, so all of my posting energy is being
    sapped.  It’s sad.

    So what can I tell you about the weekend (I’m not even going to try to
    catch up on last week.  It’s so . . . last week)?  Friday night was a
    Yankees game, then Saturday was an early Mother’s Day brunch with my
    mom at Cookshop.  We walked to the Union Square Greenmarket to buy some
    ramps, then headed to Otto for a little sorbet (we were being somewhat
    virtuous).  After spin class, I went to Rob’s pub crawl for a short stint (yes, I Dodgeballed from Hogs & Heifers), then saw United 93.  Afterwards, we were in no mood to be social (let alone rejoin the pub crawl), so we had a nibble at Bar Veloce and headed home. 

    Sunday I had brunch at Alizinha’s, and got the chance not only to see some of my long-lost blogger chicks, but to meet some new ones, and to eat the most delicious banana pecan muffins ever.  Luckily, I worked it all off by joining Mark for an 18 mile bike ride.  It was the first ride of the season, but it felt pretty damn good.  I finished up the day at Tia Pol, where I joined Andrea for her Dining for Darfur fundraiser. 

    That’s the weekend wrap-up — I’m sorry to make it so quick, but I’m pooped.  Off to bed.

     

  • Life’s Cruel Jokes

    How is it that I can have grey hairs and zits at the same time?  Horrifying.

  • Food Focused

    This morning I read Gotham Gal’s post about how she, a born and bred food person, has had a significant impact over her husband, for whom food was merely a source of nutrition before they met.  She describes it as two worlds colliding, and I understand her completely.  I, too, am a food person (in case you hadn’t noticed), and I realize that I have an incredibly hard time understanding those who aren’t.  Is it really possible that people go on vacation without thinking about where and what they’re going to eat next, even as they are in the midst of a meal?  That people exist who don’t drool over the glossy pages of Gourmet and Bon Appetit as if they were porn?  That there are those who don’t relish the joys of strolling through a bustling outdoor food market, with all of its dazzling colors, mouthwatering aromas, and, if you time it right, free samples?  Apparently, such people exist.  And I am dating one of them.

    I have ventured into this strange territory before.  Nathan, when I met him, was definitely not food-oriented in the same way I am.  But after dating for several years and living together for a decent chunk of that time, I think there was no way that my foodish tendencies couldn’t have rubbed off on him.  At one point after we stopped dating, we met up for lunch, where he described to me how he had recently made pesto with some basil he had recently gotten at the greenmarket.  Now, I don’t claim to have that much influence over people generally, but I am convinced that he probably hadn’t uttered the phrase "I made pesto" before spending time with me.

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    Mark and I have our moments.  The collision of two vastly different food worlds can be wildly funny.  Each of us described our dinner at The Grocery in an email to my friend Rhea, and it was hard to believe we were both at the same table  (I want to publish it here, but we’re in negotiations about the intellectual property rights).  But it can also be tricky.  When we were in London, I mentioned that the one thing I really wanted to do on our day off was go to the Borough Hall Market (pictured above).  At one point, Mark asked if it would be okay if he brought a book.  I’m sure I gave him a look like he had just slapped me across the face.  It wasn’t so much that I would have minded if he didn’t want to come along with me — I’m fine doing things on my own and if he really didn’t want to go, he shouldn’t — but I merely could not comprehend at all that someone wouldn’t want to spend a few hours on a gorgeous spring morning at a market.  Especially if that time happened to coincide with lunch.  He must have recognized the shock and horror on my face — we went, and the book, if it came along at all, stayed tucked away.  I don’t really know if he enjoyed it, but he didn’t seem miserable, and I do recall that he went back for a second taste at the stall selling olive tapenade, so it couldn’t have been too bad.

    Any advice on how to interact with these non-food-focused types (or amusing anecdotes) would be greatly appreciated.

    PS — I wrote this entire entry in bed.  Gotta love the laptop!

  • Back from the Jaunt Across the Pond

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    Still a little jetlagged/tired, but at least now the pictures are up.

    Highlights, in a nutshell: Guys & Dolls, Who’s Afraid of Virginia Wolf?, Fino, dim sum, Christopher, Westminster Abbey, Borough Hall Market, strolling along the banks of the Thames, Cambridge, the Great Eastern Hotel, those awesome biscuits which would be the death of me if I were in our London office, tea at the Landmark Hotel, and the Pro Bono Tour of London.  Whew.  Somehow managed to miss Hugh while we were in town, but we tried.  And of course, I had great company.  Pictures are up on Flickr. 

  • So I Wanted to Tell You All About Vegas

    and I will, I swear, but my week has been crazy, with a trip to Boston, a weekend in Portland, and now frantically packing for a week in London.  Leaving in a few hours and will be gone for a week.  So, I hope that you can forgive me, and perhaps I’ll manage to write a post on the plane for posting later. 

  • Ah…Passover


    Ah…Passover

    My sister managed to suck down the last of the Manischewitz. The seder was a huge success!

  • Thanks, Hugh!

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    courtesy of Hugh at Gaping Void

    Somehow I managed not to see this for a few days, even though he gave me a shout-out.  True, I was recovering from Vegas, but still.  For the record, the bartender is ancient history.

    And yes, I know I need to spill the details, but Gothamist comes first these days when time is limited. . .

  • It’s All About the Benjamins


    Or at least one.  More on Vegas to come shortly.

    UPDATE: Pictures on flickr.

  • Momma Needs a New Pair of Shoes


    Vegas  baby

    I’m off for the weekend (arrived here late last night actually) for a weekend with Sue &Nancy, my college roommates.  Any and all food recommendations are welcome.

  • The Next Chapter

    First off, this goes out to the Lovely Miss Katie, who complained that I haven’t been writing as much lately (sad, but true).

    I had dinner with two friends Monday night. Both are women, but one difference between the two is that one is single and the other is engaged. The engaged friend was sharing with us some of the stress she’s finding herself facing — not with wedding plans, as one might imagine, but with the reality of the cost of having a family in Manhattan. She grew up here, and wants her (at this point still future) kids to have the same sort of lifestyle she had, but of course costs have skyrocketed since we grew up. She is slowly coming to the realization that raising a family in Manhattan,or even in the Westchester suburbs (where I spent my junior high and high school years) is a daunting if not impossible prospect if neither spouse is a doctor or laywer, or works at a hedge fund.

    I worry about these things too, although it’s certainly not a pressing issue. I’m still more focused on dating someone who’s not a jackass, not becoming the kind of person who fades off into coupledom once they find the non-jackass, and dealing with the ever-increasing number of situations where I find that I am the only unmarried, childless person present.

    We also had an interesting discussion about “chapters” in one’s life. Our engaged friend was describing how she was in the process of moving to a new chapter of her life, and how she has seen the warning signs for a while — she described how she dressed differently when she was single and stayed out until 2 am much more often than she does now. In some ways I hope that my chapters are not as clearly delineated. I always want to have a mix of people in my life; I don’t want to be the kind of person who, because I’m dating someone or someday married, ends up only doing stuff with couples, and I still want to stay out until dawn every now and again, whether with friends or with this hypothetical husband person.

    I can think about this stuff forever, but given my current life situation, for me, it’s just a matter of keeping a balance that feels right for me now, and adjusting that balance as I move forward.