Sweet Blog O'Mine

v. 2.0

  • My Seder Was More Fun Than Your Seder

    Last night was my second annual Passover seder at Sammy’s Roumanian Steakhouse on the Lower East Side. I went last year as well, with a slightly smaller group (I even met Jill Sobule there last year — see the picture). When I told my dad I was going there, he said that he recalled the food was very heavy — “your great-grandparents celebrated their 50th wedding anniversary there, and your great-grandfather died a week later.” Well, he’s right. They have schmaltz (rendered chicken fat) in syrup containers on every table. They make the chopped chicken liver in a bowl at the table, complete with cooked onions, radishes, and a liberal dose of the schmaltz. I have been dreaming about it since last year — so good, yet so disgustingly bad for you. Mmm. The steak literally droops over the side of the plate. Good thing there are plenty of bottles of vodka frozen in ice to cut through the artery-clogging food. And beyond the food, there is singing and dancing — our table singlehandedly started the hora, and I did a cameo song with the band. They’re not too big on the religious part of the seder, but they managed to cover some of the basics — blessings over the wine and matzo, the four questions, and of course, dayenu. No Cadbury creme eggs, though.


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    You can find the pictures here.

  • Smart is Good

    Marriage Rates Rise for Educated Women. “Women with three years of graduate school . . . have bucked the declining trend. For them the marriage rate has actually increased by 3 percentage points, to 86 percent.” Good to know that my 3 years at NYU Law might have helped something in addition to my career. Now I just need to find a wicked smaahhht guy who’s smart enough to marry me.

  • My Weekend, as Illustrated by Two Plates


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    I was in Maine — of course I had to have a lobster roll. My one complaint — too heavy on the mayo.

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    My sister, who couldn’t be at our seder this year, suggested that we have a Cadbury creme egg on our seder plate. Given the fact that our seder was on the wrong night and our matzo wasn’t kosher for passover, I figured the Easter candy wouldn’t make us any worse Jews than we already were.

  • Love’s Letters Lost

    Although I never lived up in Portland, my Dad’s house there still is home to a great deal of my memorabilia — high school and college yearbooks, childhood books, programs from plays I was in over the years. Also, in a drawer, are two shoeboxes, each filled with mementos of a romantic relationship. One of these boxes contains what are, to this day, the most romantic love letters I have ever received. It was very important for me to keep them, but also important for me to have them out of my apartment. I read an interesting article today called Zapping Old Flames Into Digital Ash — now that most correspondence is done digitally, people end up with emails, digital photos, and voicemails that chronicle any given relationship. Especially in an online dating scenario, saved emails can be as significant as those letters I keep in a shoebox (which were pre-internet, by the way). The article describes how purging the digital record of a relationship can be theraputic. Personally, I haven’t really gone as far as to purge all emails and photos of someone, but I have cleaned out a slew of email messages from a few dating scenarios over the years. None of these have been particularly significant relationships, however. I would imagine that, in a situation where I was seriously invested emotionally with someone and it didn’t work out, that I’d like to do something similar to a digital shoebox — maybe burn everything onto a CD and file it away somewhere. I even printed out a bunch of emails from a particularly traumatic breakup a while back and put them into the appropriate shoebox. But regardless of my method of saving — I’d never erase them permanently. Each relationship is part of who I am, and zapping it into cyber-oblivion is not the answer for me.

    What about you? Do you keep digital or non-digital records of your past relationships? Inquiring minds want to know . . .

  • Gefilte Dog, or What I Like About Jew, Take Two

    This weekend, I am off to Portland, Maine, for Passover. Sadly, I will be missing my monthly wine club society meeting — we meet the first Sunday of every month. When I told my neighbor, who organizes the wine club society, that I would be home for Passover, he responded, correctly, “but Passover’s on Monday.” “Yes,” I replied, “but we’re having our seder on Sunday because it’s easier for everyone.” He rolled his eyes in disgust. “You guys are changing the holiday for convenience?” “Um, yes.” “How very religious of you.”

    Now, I know that some might categorize me as a bad Jew. I eat pork and shellfish, often together. One of my favorite culinary delights is the pancetta-wrapped shrimp at ‘inoteca. I only go to temple on high holidays. I have a tattoo. I don’t like lox. But, strangely enough, I generally fast on Yom Kippur. I keep kosher for Passover (or at least I make a valiant attempt). And, I might add, these behaviors definitely make me the Jewiest Jew in my family. In my family, attendance at temple is not mandatory by any means, even on high holidays. My Dad always does a bizarre editing job on The Concise Family Seder, our Hagaddah of choice, so that it is even more concise. He tends to edit out pieces of the story and keep in the random commentary. I also think I’m the only one in the family who remembers the Passover story year after year. Yes, it’s the same story. I have even suggested that we rent The Prince of Egypt, just to keep it fresh in everyone’s minds. Oy vey. But — we are definitely a Jewish family, with Jewish values. Every holiday is an excuse to gather friends, family, and strays for a good meal. We give back to the community in many ways. All three kids were bar or bat mitzvah’d (well, the twins were b’nai mitzvah’d together), and I’m pretty sure we all like gefilte fish.

    In other news this weekend, I am making my very last excusable visit to college (with the exception of my brother’s graduation in May). My brother is playing in a steel drum concert at Bates, followed by a Yo La Tengo show. So, I’ll be hangin’ with the college kids. And speaking of Jewish culture, there’s a Klezmer band up at Bates called Gefilte Dog — I always loved that name.

    I’m also looking forward to my second annual Passover seder at Sammy’s Roumanian steakhouse next Tuesday (an official seder night, for those keeping track). Stay tuned, and Happy Pesach!

  • Happy Birthday Tots!

    Who doesn’t love Tater Tots?! Turns out that our beloved Tots turned fifty last week. [via Best Week Ever] And no, this is not an April Fools Day joke — I just had to post it. Don’t forget to check out Jason Kottke’s tater tot hotdish recipe! What’s hotdish, you ask? Here ya go.

  • Badass Chick Blogger


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    courtesy of Gaping Void

    That’s me, baby. The badass chick blogger. Oh yeah.

  • Schadenfreude in TV Land

    Now, I’m not a big TV watcher these days. Sure, every now and again I’ll flip on the tube for a little while, but I’m usually doing just that — flipping. Maybe I’ll stumble upon a good movie, watch something on the Food Network, or even succumb to the guilty pleasures of MTV reality-show trash. But recently, I have stumbled upon a great show — Significant Others, on Bravo. I almost wrote about it yesterday, but then thought to myself, Laren, why the hell are you plugging a TV show? On the subway this morning, I was reading my New Yorker that arrived yesterday, and they reviewed the show. They seem to love it as much as I do. That’s it — I’m plugging the show.

    The show centers around three (now four) couples in various stages of marriage who have entered couples therapy. It is split between their time in the therapist’s office and clips of their daily lives — the things that are actually driving them to therapy. Why do I like this show so much? Aside from the brilliant, improv comedy and amazing talent, I’m pretty sure it’s schadenfreude. Maybe it’s the reminder that couplehood can be just as painful as singledom. I definitely love the theme song (a speed-rock version of the Partridge Family’s “I Think I Love You”). Then again, maybe it’s just because it makes me laugh out loud — for those who have heard me laugh, you realize how loud this can actually be. Who knows? Just go watch it tonight at 9:30. It’s hysterical.

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  • Spring Has Sprung

    No really. It has. How do I know this? Because yesterday, I took my bike out for her inaugural spin of the season. Granted, I was freezing, so I only rode up on to Chelsea Piers and back — all said and done about 20 minutes — but I took ‘er out nonetheless. There are other signs — the sudden urge to clean out the closet (not that it will actually happen, but the urge is there), the rumblings of spring and summer travel plans, the desire to go barefoot (or at least without socks) if at all possible. Never mind that it’s not supposed to go above 50 degrees this week. I don’t care. For me, it’s spring.


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    Has spring sprung for you yet? If so, see you on the bike path — I’m the one riding the Cannondale compact (yes, it’s the bike for shrimps).

  • Om

    One thing I’ve learned about myself over the years is that when I start to feel slightly stressed out, exercise, sleep and eating well are always my first remedies. This morning, I woke up super-early, as I’ve had a a lot on my mind lately. So — off I went to yoga. I first started practicing yoga about four years ago, and although I’ve never done it regularly, I really enjoy the calm stretching, the chanting, and the breathing. Looking back to my days at music and arts camp, many of the exercises we did to warm up and cool down were yoga poses, which I didn’t realize until much later. But even back then, and particularly now, I have a great deal of trouble shutting out all the outside thoughts. And then I wonder — is it just me? Is everyone else here achieving inner peace, at least for an hour? I can’t imagine that everyone else is simply dismissing all the thoughts that creep into your head during exercise — what do I need to do later today? why hasn’t that guy called me? are my underwear sticking out? I forgot to call my friend back to let her know about tonight — shit. Oh wait. Inner peace, inner peace, inner peace, inhale, exhale.

    Is it just me? What are your yoga thoughts like? Perhaps if I practice more regularly, this will change. Sounds like a good springtime project. Om.


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