« June 2006 | Main | August 2006 »

July 27, 2006

Little Dishes and Stinky

I had such big plans for Little Dishes, newly opened on 7th Avenue. The name suggests tapas that are not necessarily Spanish. Little decadences.

Some little dishes do deliver. The pork butt is yummy. It's a little on the spicy side, but good and meaty and sweet, and great when eaten with the crusty bread underneath. The special cucumber soup we had the first time we went there was fabulous -- it was a perfect cooling summer dish.

As for everything else, it's uneven. The sardines, which I expected to be grilled, are more like ceviche, which just wasn't as exciting. I like the fishy oiliness of sardines, and when they're boned and soaked in citrus, they lose whatever it is I like. So, no go. The salt cod cakes were okay. The cheese plate was good, with a nice Spanish goat cheese and a wonderful fig cake to pair with the cheese. The stuffed squid we got was disappointing -- it was overdone, and the stuffing was bland. The mushrooms are interesting -- good near the cap, rather slimy at the stem.

I think we may go back to try things we missed -- watermelon and cheddar, for instance, or the meat and cheese plate. I could also go any time just for some wine and oysters. I've liked their oysters better than what I've had at Bar Minnow, but that could be related to what was available -- I'm not an expert in this area (or any food area outside of what tastes good to me, for that matter, but this is beside the point).

One more thing, though -- a new cheese shop called Stinky is open on Smith. I must, must, must go, because all I look for at cheese counters is the stinky stuff. If I use the word "stinky", though, I get condescending stares and no help at all elsewhere. Stinky labels their cheeses according to stinkiness (one nose, two noses, or three), so it was clearly established just for me. They also offer interesting pickles and a good selection of sausages. It's like someone stocked a store with all of my favorite things (aside from the pickles, which I'm mainly only interested in for D's sake, but still).

Posted by csageday at 01:58 AM | Comments (0)

Four Movies and a Home-Improvement Tip

We've managed to spend ample time in air-conditioned movie theaters recently. Here's a recap of what we've seen.

A Prairie Home Companion: Eh. It was like the radio show, so it was entertaining, but on the whole it was uneven as a movie. I loved seeing Garrison Keillor, though -- so damn likable, that man.

Wordplay: Have you ever done a crossword puzzle? See this movie. It has a nice balance of celebrity interviews, explanation, and tournament drama. It's fun and funny. Crossword puzzle people are astounding to me, because, as I recently explained to someone, I have a crossword puzzle deficiency. I just don't think of or see the words I need to. I can be staring at C_T with a clue of "Feline friend" and not get it. After having read half of Word Freak, I realize that this is related to my frustrating inability to anagram. Lately I've been on a little crossword crusade, trying to work on this linguistic disability of mine, but it's torturous. Someday, someday!, I'll be able to finish that little Sip and Solve "Easy" Crossword puzzle book.

Why We Fight (saw this one on DVD): Top of the list recommendation, simply because it finally provided a feasible explanation for the Iraq war and the administration's baffling behavior. I know it's not exciting to rent a movie about the military industrial complex, but everyone should be very familiar with the bigger picture issues presented here. It's fascinating and frightening and should have implications for how you view U.S. policy in general.

Superman Returns (3D): Okay, so the nostalgia kicked in for me and I loved seeing the new Superman -- the whole clumsy Clark Kent and classic 50s flying save-the-world gentleman in shiny tights and underwear completely won me over. The familiar score and sets helped. I reverted to age 8 or so. It was weird in some places with the whole crystal business, but satisfying on the whole, again, because of the classic Superman-ness of it all. We saw it in IMAX 3D, and although the big screen was cool, the 3D-glasses portions were a little nauseating for me and weren't really worth it. Regular screen is fine. I'm afraid if I saw this again I might realize that it wasn't such a good movie.

On a somewhat unrelated topic: Installing pull-down shades in our sunny windows, and leaving them down during the day, has done wonders for the temperature level in our apartment. If you have accidently rented a sauna, you should know about this. You should also know that Lowe's has a machine that can cut the shade to whatever width you want it to be. Who knew?

Posted by csageday at 12:50 AM | Comments (2)

July 26, 2006

Little Frog

Last weekend we played host to D's adorable one-and-a-half year old nephew, Xander. While his Mom and Dad went out for a night on the town, Xander careened up and down our hallway, collected styrofoam and cardboard packaging, and practiced playing the guitar and piano with "Uncle D".

We also took a trip to the (rather wet) playground. I didn't know that we had such a nice playground -- it's kinda swanky, with the musical instruments, four different slides, and a sandbox. As a non-child-wielding adult I hadn't been privy to this information. The only downside was that because it had just rained, the slides were all soaked, so we had to convince a heartbroken Xander that the slides could not be slid down. The message didn't quite get through, and Xander protested loudly, but we managed to distract him with the large metal harp in the shape of a woman, which he was oddly drawn to (he kept hugging it). The workings of a toddler's mind are a mystery, but I'll surmise that it had something to do with wondering where Mom was. Here's a photo (more on Flickr).

As he got used to our very long apartment, Xander got brave and started climbing up the furniture. For a while, he designated a spot between the plants and the wall on our dining room table as his own. He also rather liked the Space Invaders coffee table, with all the pointless buttons and the joystick. Derek will make him an 80s video game connoisseur yet.

Posted by csageday at 12:45 AM | Comments (1)

July 24, 2006

Sunday Photos

In lieu of interesting blog posts, which I seem to lack inspiration for these days, here's a mini photo essay.

I took my camera to the flea market again last Sunday. The light wasn't right in a bunch of shots, but I like these two:

After that, I caught a bus to the Brooklyn Museum, where I tried (for the most part, unsuccessfully) to catch an interesting shot of the fountain. Inside, I saw the grafitti exhibit but found it to be smaller than expected. I did my customary loop of the fifth floor, with a stop in the stainless-steel storage-type area, which always seems to be empty and which I love exploring. It seemed to offer plenty of interesting photo opps, but I couldn't seem to assemble anything.

When we got home, I found that my memory card had been corrupted and I couldn't access any of the photos I'd taken that day. The cause may have been a low battery or too many successive shots. Derek saved the day, as usual, recovering most of the pictures with his PC. The mac is kind of not-so-good at these types of things, unfortunately.

Posted by csageday at 12:46 AM | Comments (0)

July 22, 2006

Internet Saves Day, Again

Derek and I are trying to get ourselves to Spain this fall, but I'm not so good at planning. Derek is usually the designated trip planner, but since I'm the one who has spent many months there and should know a thing or two about planning a trip to the country, he's waiting for me to give suggestions. This is not a good strategy.

When I travel anywhere, I go, and then I figure out what to do. I rarely plan much beyond the tickets and accommodations, mostly out of boredom but partially out of a (possibly misguided) desire to be spontaneous and discover things as I go. This sometimes works and sometimes doesn't. For Budapest, it didn't really work. I walked around various traffic circles, missed a train, and ate mediocre meals where the locals stared at me. For Scotland, it worked like a charm. Derek and I drove all over the place, discovered B&B's to stay in on the way, took in the scenery, and ate many very hearty British breakfasts.

Also, planning a trip to Spain would be like planning a trip to my grandmother's house. Whenever I've been, I've been lucky enough to be part of an exchange program, so I've stayed with Spanish families and have had itineraries mercifully planned for me. The trips were like extraordinary visits to see distant relatives (I realize now how lucky I was to have those opportunities). I loved the feeling of being taken into a family -- in a country where family is so important -- and experiencing things by simply tagging along. It helped me learn the language and develop my current obsession with good Spanish food. My first Spanish family thought my fascination with the food was so funny that they sent me home with half my suitcase filled up with jamon serrano and Milka chocolate and Colacao -- all things I'd discovered and fallen in love with.

When I think about going back now, I mainly think of the potential for more wonderful food. Blood sausage, La Boqueria (the big market in Barcelona), seafood, tapas, cheeses, wine, etc. I would love to visit both Spanish families, so I'm thinking that we should go to Santander (and possibly neighboring cities, like Bilbao), and Barcelona. I've tried to describe what I'd like to do the rest of the time to Derek by saying I'd love to be someplace old, and quiet, and distinctly Spanish. For instance, couldn't we rent an apartment in a smaller, cobblestoned city by the sea and go the market every day and then sit on our terrace and eat and drink?

This idea isn't long on specifics, so I was very happy to find this post by Chez Pim completely by accident. Perfect! There's a remote, castle-like, fabulous restaurant in San Sebastian (somewhat near Santander). It meets my vague criteria perfectly: food, ambience, and a good fit with a loose itinerary involving the north of Spain. It's a start. Thank goodness for this lovely thing called the Internet.

Update: The NY Times just published an article on Spanish paradores (state-run hotels) in the north.

Posted by csageday at 10:41 PM | Comments (0)

July 16, 2006

Ruth Reichl

Earlier this summer, my mother and I both got on a Ruth Riechl kick and read Comfort Me with Apples, followed by her latest book, Garlic and Sapphires (we haven't read Tender at the Bone yet, her first). The first is a fantastic memoir about her introduction to the world of food writing and her rise to LA Times food critic, and then New York Times food critic. The second covers her life at the NY Times, where she developed a number of elaborate disguises in order to review restaurants undetected. Mom and I devoured these books -- staying up way too late and wasting entire summer weekend days in bed, reading, but it was worth it.

I'm so glad I finally read these. Since I love food and writing, I was completely wrapped up in each book. Reichl has a very accessible style, and she's extremely matter-of-fact. She writes about personal struggles in each book, and I feel as if I'm hearing stories from an aunt or older friend whom I adore and who has had a difficult and extraordinary past. She shares these stories with nostalgia and a combination of vulnerability and confidence. I finished reading each chapter feeling as if I could have ended up in many of the same situations (she makes them seem familiar), although some of her turns of fate are incredible.

She also has an extraordinary talent for identifying flavors in food and describing an exceptional dining experience. She is an expert on food and cooking, even early on, but she shares what she knows as if she's just discovering things, so you never feel out of step with her. I think this explains her extremely successful career.

On Thursday, I was looking around for something interesting to do after work and was reminded that she would be at the 92nd St. Y on a panel, so I headed uptown. When I bought my $25 ticket, I got a Gourmet gift bag (Reichl has been the editor in chief there since 1999). It included the current issue, a special summer issue (the focus of the panel), and a mold for four ice pops with an accompanying recipe ("Honeydew Lime Popsicles").

The panel was great. Riechl was joined by various contributors to Gourmet's special "August Summer Reading" issue, which contains a bunch of short, satisfying pieces about writing and food or travel. Leonard Lopate moderated skillfully, engaging each panelist equally and keeping the conversation funny and interesting. Ann Patchett, author of Bel Canto, was there. She provided a nice contrast to the rest, since she professed having no interest in food (she likes, gasp!, Spagetti-Os) and won't eat anything with a hoof. She explained that she had been obsessed with Charlotte's Web as a child and had received the gift of a pig for her ninth birthday, and instituted the hoof rule then. This provided fodder for conversation with David Rakoff, who is hilarious and whose contribution to the issue had been subtitled "What is it about Jews and Pork?" I didn't know anything about Rakoff, but he kept cracking me and everybody else up. I hope he writes a book. The other members of the panel were Jane and Michael Stern, authors of the "Roadfood" column in Gourmet. They finish each other's sentences and have a large collection of funny stories about their visits to backroads American food establishments. Ruth herself wasn't quite what I imagined, but her measured tone and benevolent attitude matched her prose.

The conversation ranged, and I got a glimpse of the panelists' opinions about current culinary trends. For instance, there is an abundance of salt options available now -- sea salt, kosher salt, volcanic salt -- and it's hard to know what to do with them all. David Rakoff responded to a question about an intimidated buyer by saying "you're picking salt, not finding an oncologist!" Ruth countered with facts: these salts do have different tastes, but more importantly, they are shaped differently and so will be absorbed differently.

There was a good deal of talk about organics and "gourmet" food, and how local food really trumps both for sustainability (with organic food now coming from China, local food will be better tasting because it's more fresh, and its transport will have far less impact). There was some discussion about how Americans still don't want to know where their food comes from, at all, and a mention of Michael Pollen's latest book, The Omnivore's Dilemma, where he explores the origins of four meals. When asked about America's best cuisine, Ruth answered by saying that we are the world's best eaters, because we embrace a culturally diverse collection of foods.

I was especially pleased to hear Ruth's condemnation of mass market livestock production, and how it harms both the quality of the meat and the environment, and I was glad that she explained the advantages of eating local food. She may have been preaching to the choir, but she has great influence through Gourmet, and when I flipped through the mag, I saw the same recommendations. This trend has been going on for a while in urban communities, but I wasn't sure if it extended beyond that. I hope it does.

When we left, we were handed ice pops, made from the recipe in our gift bags -- nice touch, no? For more details at the panel, there's a good recap here.

Posted by csageday at 02:33 PM | Comments (1)

July 09, 2006

All Better Now

I'm such a spoiled brat. I've just been treated to a lovely dinner at 360 in Red Hook (great food, authentic French service) for my birthday, and I've opened various presents of which I am clearly undeserving, and now I feel just fine about turning 29 (I just needed some new toys to play with). The dinner included a walk along the pier at the end of Van Brundt, and although I had neglected to bring my camera, my mother let me borrow hers and I got some nice nighttime shots.

Posted by csageday at 11:59 PM | Comments (0)

July 08, 2006

My Frigging 29th Birthday

I don't want to be 29. It's so old-sounding. 23-28 did not bother me, but this is unacceptable. It's too close to 30. I haven't done anything that I wanted to do when I was 23. Have not become fluent in Spanish, have not lived or really traveled abroad, have not gone to graduate school, have not chosen a career path. Can't even make meringues. Can't even spell meringues. I was somewhat looking forward to my birthday yesterday, but at some point I realized how old I'd be and this morning is just awful. How could this have happened? It's odd -- during the past few years, when someone asks my age, I've had to think about it. I've even done the "So, let's see, I was born in '77, and it's 2006, so...." thing. I've clearly been in denial about my advancing age, because so much should have gotten done by now that hasn't. And don't go saying that I've done all of this great stuff because it'll just make me feel worse. Now I'm going to go eat some expensive brunch with an alcoholic drink (because at least I'm over 21 -- how come that part took FOREVER?) to make myself feel better.

Posted by csageday at 01:36 PM | Comments (3)

July 06, 2006

Not Quite Cinderella

A few weeks ago, the socialite gods of New York smiled on us, inexplicably, and Derek was invited to the Public Theater's summer gala for Shakespeare in the Park. He asked me if I was interested. Did you notice the word "gala" in there? I did, and had a little terrified fit about the inevitable wardrobe saga that might ensue (for me, the wardrobe issue eclipses EVERYTHING, sadly, when it comes to swanky events), but pulled myself together enough to say yes. Then I forgot entirely about the whole thing until two days beforehand.

Derek reminded me about it during work, and a quick Google search turned up a description on the Public Theater's site. It mentioned celebrities and CEOs and the social elite. It sounded fabulous and not at all like something we had any business being invited to. The night before the event, I quizzed D about the dress code. "What does "gala" mean, exactly? Does it say "business attire"? What should I wear?" I took a quick trip to nearby stores and came up with up a silk scarf and a pair of strappy shoes. I found out later that neither could be worn with a single item of clothing that I already own. I had visions of turning up on Go Fug Yourself as an Anonymous Fug ("What was she thinking? Silk and nylon together in the same outfit? And those hideous, dime-store shoes! Please, ban this woman from special events in New York until she gets a stylist.").

I tried on everything in my closet, hoping that I might discover a long-forgotten designer dress deep in a garment bag, but no luck. Derek endured an hour of me parading by in mismatched skirts and tops and dresses. In the end, I wore black dress pants, shoes that gave me four blisters, a lacy black top purchased during lunch the same day, and an entirely season-inappropriate wool jacket (the only designer-ish item I own). Sigh.

The event itself was completely surreal. We knew we'd see Meryl Streep and Kevin Kline, the two celebs being honored, but I didn't expect to see quite so many others. I should mention that I never, ever recognize celebrities in public. When I do, I rarely know their names. So far in my decade of living in the city, I've seen the back of Richard Gere's head (after someone told me he walked by), that guy from Third Rock From the Sun, and someone else (I can't even remember my confirmed celeb sightings). It's just not my thing. To say that I saw a lot of celebrities means that this event was chock full of them. I almost feel guilty writing about them here, as if I've broken some New York contract of anonymity, or it's in bad taste (it probably is, but aren't you curious?).

After hobbling through Central Park to the theater, we made it to our al fresco table, said hello, and then headed back to the buffet. The crowd looked well-coifed and confident, and I imagine that many of them were higher-ups in the theater and media world that I would recognize if I knew the first thing about either industry. I tried to look around for familiar faces without seeming too conspicuous about it. I think half the crowd was doing the same thing because I noticed a lot of people eyeing me (and hopefully not because I was wearing some off-the-rack ensemble from the Time Warner mall). On the way back from the buffet, we saw our first celeb, Alan Alda. I think that was my favorite one, too -- how can you help but love Alan Alda? He feels so approachable (not that I went anywhere near him).

Back at our seats, someone pointed out David Geffen and Diane Von Furstenburg across the way. We saw Phillip Seymour Hoffman, who's looking a bit scruffy (for a part?) but cute that way. A few minutes later, I looked up from a conversation to notice an unmistakable Tom Hanks walking right by our table in a baseball cap. My jaw dropped and I smiled and said an incredulous, involuntary "Oh my god" to Derek, trying to convey the (lovely) absurdity of the whole experience to him.

There were plenty of other celebs to notice, and other people at our table did a much better job of finding them -- they kept saying "so-and-so" is over there, etc. I should reiterate the utter injustice of having me attend this over someone who actually knows something about film and theater.

After dinner, we decided to walk around before the play started. As we did, the presentation began, so we stepped off to the side. We watched the Public Theater presenters, Mayor Bloomberg, and the two honorees (Meryl Streep and Kevin Kline) give short speeches lauding the tradition of Shakespeare in the Park. Derek says we were staring straight at Helen Hunt through the whole thing, but I missed her. I did see Cynthia Nixon walk by, though (great dress, great hair).

The event included tickets to Macbeth and to the after party. At Macbeth, a bunch of mildly recognizable people were sitting in front of us (models?), but I wasn't expecting to see Bill Clinton. He was less than twenty feet away, smiling and chatting with people. Given the political landscape now, I felt a strange combination of nostalgia and gratitude. Chelsea also became visible a few minutes later, doing the same. Both seemed happy to be there. Everyone seemed happy to be there, actually -- it's a pleasant event, and though it was threatening to rain, it didn't, and a cool breeze kept the heat at bay. I saw Tom Hanks again, and Candice Bergen was a few rows in front of us.

Although I only recognized a few big names, I felt as if I were swimming in celebrities, and I probably was (celebrities of varying degrees, anyway). I didn't know quite what to do, and wished mightily that I might run into Ben Widdicombe, the one person I know who might be able to make sense of the scene for me (he's a savvy gossip columnist for the Daily News and an old coworker of mine). Being in the general vicinity of such tremendous talent was both intimidating and intriguing but also a little odd, since we were basically spectators -- paying visitors to the social stratosphere.

Macbeth was fantastic. It's been a while since I've seen Shakespeare, and the two leads (Macbeth, Lady Macbeth) were played very well. The staging was a little strange at times. Some of the modern touches, like guns and a WWII-style microphone, didn't seem to fit, but I liked the more modern wardrobe. The witches were well played. Some of the character transformations weren't as convincing as they could be, but who am I to be critical, sitting in an audience with a similar celebrity ratio to that of the Oscars?

The highlight of the evening was the walk away from the theater. We were pointed by a staff member in the opposite direction of the after party (coincidence?) and had to take the long way around. While I was complaining about my mangled toes and the shoes that could not possibly have been made with feet in mind, Derek asked me if I recognized any nearby voices. When I kept quiet I realized we could hear every word from the two people walking right behind us, and one of them was, without a doubt, Tom Hanks (again). I tried to make conversation so we wouldn't be obviously eavesdropping, but I couldn't walk very fast because of my horrible shoes, so we spent a nice five minutes being serenaded. Completely surreal.

Photos from the red carpet can be found at Getty Images (Rosie Perez was wearing pants, too!).

Posted by csageday at 12:30 AM | Comments (2)