do it up.

when did we all officially start "doing" food and drink? 

couple next to me last night:

"i think i'll do a bloody mary."

"i'm gonna do a lobster roll. or maybe we should just do the happy hour specials?"

"i can't do anything on that menu. i'm just gonna do a salad."

once we ordered stuff. and then we would "have" things...

in spanish (and i think french? probably a number of languages) the verb "to drink" is the same as "to take." you can also use this verb (tomar) for food. "taking" food and drink makes some sense, as much as "taking" pills does. i can see where it would be linguistically efficient to combine those verbs.

and i've always liked the verb "have" as in doing sex [sic] with a person. as in "i had her last night." but no one really says that anymore, do they? it's more common to "do" people than to "have" them, these days, assuming either one is still used at all. (why be ambiguous when you can just say "hook up" -- whatever that means.)

and now we "do" food and "eat" pills. how 'bout that?

ice cream part two more chickens

since the first round of delicious ice cream experiments, we've made a basil and mint, with the former from mom's window and the latter from cj's roof. it was divine, albeit slightly eggy. (we used 8 yolks. like crazy people.) also worthy of mention: we didn't use any kind of mint oil in this one, just the leaves, and the basil flavor came through a lot more strongly than the mint.

dark and stormy: cubed candied ginger, chopped into even smaller pieces and soaked overnight in gosling's black seal dark rum. the batter was made with a big chunk of fresh ginger, smashed (next time i think we'll cut it up) and a couple tablespoons of lime zest. we tossed the rum-soaked candied ginger into the batter at the tail-end of the conversion process (two minutes before the mixing was done). the result was beautiful. just enough rum flavor in the ginger, and the little flecks of lime zest made it look pretty.

we also made mint cookie, using the peppermint oil again and crumbling up some hint o' mint newman o's to stir in at the last minute. omfg. best one yet?

somehow, i've only put on about 5 pounds. we're going to have to start making sorbet.

. . . .

here are a couple of new tiny chickens. perhaps handlebars will trade me one for a print..?

cock, acrylic on canvas. 6" x 6"


hen, acrylic on canvas. 4" x 6"

food that comes with a warning label? yes, please.

today i had lunch in curry hill with cj; shopping for spices afterward we happened upon a pepper we couldn't resist.

to put things in perspective, a habañero pepper has a rating of about 300,000 scoville units. according to one source, US grade pepper spray weighs in at 2 million scoville units. so the "ghost chile" is about three times as hot as a habañero, and half as hot as... pepper spray.

cj also talked me into buying something called s'chug. oh my, is it good. also spicy. but not bhut jolokia spicy.

(i'm a little scared, actually. but in a good way.)

preliminary ice cream trials

as a birthday present, i got daisy the ice cream maker for the kitchen aid mixer. (it's the gift that keeps on giving.) the contraption consists of a bowl and a dasher that attach to the mixer. before use, the bowl has to be chilled in the freezer for at least 15 hours, but then it can just live in the freezer, ready to mix up tasty frozen treats at the slightest provocation. aww yeah.

turns out it is dangerously easy to make ice cream. in general, one just scalds the milk and cream, adding whatever flavor one desires, and mixes the egg yolks and sugar in a separate bowl. next, temper the egg mixture with a bit of the scalded milk; heat and mix the batter gently until it coats the back of a spoon, and then pour the whole mess into the bowl on the mixer. set that baby to stir for 20 to 30 minutes, and if you're adding chips or nuts or anything crunchy or solid, do it at the last minute. this step is called conversion, after which you will have a creamy mixture similar to soft-serve ice cream. transfer this deliciousness into container(s) and stick it in the freezer overnight. this second step is known as ripening, and produces the hard, scoop-able kind of ice cream that comes in a pricey pint.

details of the first couple experiments follow.

we started simply with plain vanilla. we went all out on quality, though, with organic heavy cream and 2% milk from meadowbrook dairy, eggs from the CSA and a vanilla pod all the way from tahiti (well, i bought it on 29th and lex). we used 5 yolks, twice as much cream as milk (3 cups total), and ¾ cup of sugar. we also added a teaspoon of vanilla extract (which we later concluded was gratuitous).

the texture was awesome: super creamy and rich. it was just a tad too sweet for our tastes but on the whole, a raging success, particularly when paired with tiny sweet strawberries from the greenmarket and yellow plums from the CSA.

next: mint chocolate chip. we used valhrona 60% cacao — the little oval pellets, chopped — and peppermint oil. this time we used equal parts 2% milk and heavy cream, and eased up on the sugar (½ cup). we did not use green food coloring. the texture was lighter, and the sweetness mellower. i think the recipe would be improved with the addition of mint leaves, finely chopped or ground, for color and extra minty freshness.

who knows what the future will bring? a few of our ideas for the coming weeks: curry, rum raisin (with gosling's perhaps? maybe even a dark and stormy flavor, with fresh ginger and lime zest?) and something with tea... earl grey? chai? our next batch is going to be gelato (no cream, just milk and eggs), and naturally we'll dabble in some dairy-free and vegan options as well, including sorbet (basil? tomato? perhaps we'll try to recreate morimoto's wasabi yuzu concoction...?)

now then, the recipes....

vanilla (bean):

1 cup 2% milk
2 cups heavy whipping cream
5 egg yolks
¾ cup sugar
(tahitian) vanilla bean
pinch salt
1 tsp vanilla (optional)


mint chocolate chip:

1 ½ cups 2% milk
1 ½ cups heavy cream
5 egg yolks (all from CSA eggs)
½ cup 60% dark chocolate pellet things (or any chocolate), chopped
1 ½(ish) tsp peppermint oil
pinch salt

tiny portraits (protein)

acrylic on canvas. each 4" x 6" (or 6" x 4").

event horizon

next time you're in or around madison square park, look up. british sculptor antony gormley has installed 31 identical, (methinks slightly larger than) life-sized sculptures on the ground and on various buildings in the area. once you start looking, they jump out at you from everywhere, peeking out at every plane and looking different from each angle. they are reassuring, watching over us from above. or, they are creepy, looking at first glance like monochrome metal men about to end it all.

most likely, i wouldn't have noticed these guys had someone not told me about them... after years of living here, it's hard not to block out most stimuli occurring that far above eye level. but every so often i'm reminded to pay attention, and it's usually worth the extra effort.

(check them out until august 15.)

rainy sundae.

walking down broadway in the pouring rain, i pass a woman eating ice cream out of a cup with a spoon. she's not walking fast, despite getting soaked. that kind of sucks, i think, to not have an umbrella in this weather.

as i wait for the light to cross 19th street she catches up with me, and as she scoops up the last spoonful and tosses the cup in the trash, i notice the umbrella under her arm. i realize that she had it all along, but had made a conscious decision to forgo staying dry in favor of a frozen treat on this dreary day, since after all a body only has so many hands.

we should all make more choices like that.

everything looks better in black and white.

only two more days to see tim burton at the MoMA. the busy, cluttered exhibit made me feel like i was getting a peek inside his head, although not everyone found it as fabulous as i did.

when i was there the other day it seemed to me that more people than usual were wearing black and white stripes.

if the crowds seem too daunting, head upstairs for a gander at the photography of henri cartier-bresson... stunning, poignant images from a long and well-traveled career, on view until june 28.

un bel di, vedremo...

last week mom and i treated ourselves to an evening at the metropolitan opera... and then another at city opera.

...ah, tosca, where have you been all my life? admittedly, my addiction to opera is relatively new, but what a breath of fresh air that this title diva stabs a truly unpalatable villain before she watches her lover be executed by a firing squad and the police come to arrest her for murdering their boss. it's rather more exciting than if she had been ill and frail for three acts and then died in her bed, after somehow filling a cavernous concert hall with her voice from a supine position. and... curtain.

our puccini crawl continued two nights later at city opera with madama butterfly. after a couple of seasons at the met, city opera does seem a bit low rent, but not because of the performance. (it's more about the fact that they apparently just let people wander in whenever they want during the act, instead of exiling stragglers to the little plush dungeon with the tv monitor, which is how it should be.)

[side rant: what is up with all the clapping? when did it become normal to applaud after every solo in every act throughout the entire production? and curtain calls at each intermission? between all the applause during the acts &mdash which i believe greatly interferes with the flow of the music &mdash and the long intermissions at the met &mdash probably due to their high-tech mechanical set change equipment, new as of 2008 &mdash an evening at the opera can easily be a four-hour affair, perhaps more if wagner is involved. couldn't we just applaud at the END of the acts? didn't that used to be the protocol? these incredibly talented performers have just sung for an audience of 3800, each of whom paid top dollar to enjoy a production at the world's greatest opera house. does a diva really need MORE validation than that?]

i'll refrain from any attempt to describe the music. puccini's compositions are cerebral, yet emotional; complex but accessible. (ok so i tried to describe. oops.) the best singers in the world want to sing at the met, and city opera certainly has no small talent pool from which to select. and the wow factor doesn't stop at the singers: the sets of both shows are incredible, not to mention the costumes (the playful red ships suspended from above, the array of kimono colors in city opera's butterfly! and the severe tableaux and matrix-esque trench coats on the cops in the met's production of tosca)...

my uncle thinks the opera is slowly dying as an art form, but i hopefully disagree. i've seen plenty of young 'uns at lincoln center, particularly at city opera, which has a decidedly edgier, more modern bent. sure, it's not for everyone: the music requires an attention span, and you can't exactly tap your foot to the beat throughout the show. but if you're at all intrigued by the genre, puccini is a good way to test the waters for yourself. while he didn't write three-minute pop ditties, good ole giacomo will find a way to get stuck in your head. you may even recognize a tune or two.

and truth be told, it's an excuse to get dolled up. there just aren't that many occasions for most of us to don our classiest evening wear; your vintage mink stole and floor length black velvet gown will look right at home here. nothing says "i heart NY" like sipping champagne on the balcony at intermission in your fanciest dress. for the price of approximately six trite blockbuster movies (and up), you can dabble in luxury, and listen to beautifully complex music that has stood the test of time. but for the love of b.f. pinkerton, don't forget to turn off your cell phone during the performance.

crocus pocus; or, some thoughts on civic duty.

tomorrow is the first day of spring! needless to say the high line was in bloom yesterday, full of people enjoying the rays. yellow, pink and purple crocuses have been making their tentative appearances this week, cautiously spreading out amongst the dry wild grasses that flank the long elevated park.

such a beautiful weekend almost makes me forget that i have grand jury duty two mornings a week from now until SEPTEMBER.

also on our collective national plate in the upcoming weeks are income tax returns, and [drum roll] the united states census of 2010. with the latter comes confusion about how to answer the two race/ethnicity questions. if you are of spanish or latin american descent, you may have to think about this one a little. one might even go so far as to ask, why should i even answer those questions? the census is supposed to be a head count, right...?

one thing is for sure though, don't let the lovely season distract you from actually filling out and sending in the bloody thing. if they don't count your head, your neighborhood won't get the money. it's all well and good to speculate and theorize and of course, to gripe, but the very idea of boycotting the census is just idiotic. just check the dang boxes and make sure you fold it right when you put it in the return envelope. they've even included the postage! that was big of them, no?

now then. get thee to the park!

i swear i'm not a NASCAR fan. really.

carl edwards has been placed on probation for three races after "intentionally wrecking" brad keselowski, whose vehicle flipped precariously and somehow miraculously landed right-side-up with no resulting explosions. i admit complete ignorance on the subject of car racing, but it looks to me like sheer luck that keselowski wasn't severely injured or killed.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d_4I12wwBIE

so edwards deliberately runs into another car, and he still gets to race and everything, he's just under a little extra scrutiny. for three measly races. for hitting another guy. on purpose.

one wonders, if this wasn't a so-called sport, would carl edwards be under arrest? i mean, this is a little more severe than one guy tripping another on a basketball court. where's the line between intentional wreck and attempted murder? or vehicular manslaughter? wait, i guess keselowski would have had to actually die for that one to be applicable, eh? right.

i could rant all day about skewed justice, but spring is tantalizing me with this beautiful sunny afternoon (not to mention the impending clock-changing ritual this weekend) so into the streets i go. i just have to remember not to piss off any "professional" drivers.

the highest line of sweet treats

...next on the list will have to be the people's pops, especially since i used to work with the proprietrix (yes i realize that's not a word, but it should be).

and lula's sweet apothecary on east 6th is just amazing. went with blurph for ice cream: soft-serve cake batter, nutty carrot cake, and rich peanut butter fudge swirl. they have baked goods too. all of their offerings are vegan, and many gluten-free options are available (but don't let this deter any of you righteous omnivores; it's as delicious as anything you could make with eggs and cream).

on the other side of town, the high line opened last week; you can walk along it from gansevoort to 20th streets so far. it supposedly contains mostly plant species that had been growing wild there, only now it's all been tidily landscaped. they integrated some of the old train tracks in the design, including a section upon which a row of wooden seats can roll a bit back and forth. there's a weird little amphitheater with a glass window looking down on 10th avenue, apparently for watching the traffic go by. there are wonderful views of a part of the city that's still sparse on skyscrapers, and of the hudson and jersey beyond. go there this summer! take your out of town friends there! but go on a weekday to avoid the crowds, at least now while it's still shiny and new.

DBGB (on the Bowery)

i'm assuming daniel boulud's new burger-centric locale, on bowery just north of houston, will be easier to find next week. tonight, all that distinguished it from a service entrance to the newish condominium complex was a cardboard square taped to the door, bearing the number 299 (this doesn't bode well for walk-ins, but i suppose that was all part of the grand design on this first official night of service).

not realizing there is an abbreviated bar menu, we opted for one of the double-wide bar stools. no regrets; the beer list alone is enough to keep a body occupied, and i've always been an advocate of (what i convince myself is) the "best of" bar menu as a way to feel out a new spot. there's no hooks at this bar (i always check) but there's a bar (pardon the pun) on which you can drape your coat (or perhaps onto which you can hang if you've had a beer too many?) and the stools, well, i can only imagine all the fun the bartenders are going to have playing tetris with single diners and three-tops when it's crowded. i'd say if you don't want a seat-mate to crash your solo dinner at the bar, come during the week.

we started with the creole caipirihna (made with rum instead of cachaca) and the paloma, with mezcal and grapefruit juice. the menu features two trademark boulud cocktails and several of colin's creation. there's a fine selection of oysters. (and here i will digress in recognition of the recession: at $3 a pop they just make my oyster-price-litmus of $18 a half dozen. can you get some of the same oysters cheaper? sure, but $3 kumamotos are a great deal, by maybe a dime, so it's worth it to feel comfortable making your bivalve selections without regard to the slight price variations you may encounter elsewhere.) for our part, we opted for the aforementioned 'motos, a couple of glidden points and a new one to us, salt ponds: rhode island denizens, medium sized with a shallow cup, briny, metallic. they all played well with a glass of cremant de jura.

the crispy tripe, two squares to a $4 order, is the perfect intro to intestines for even the most squeamish of diners. their innocuously flavorful chewiness was delighfully balanced by the slightly sweet mustard sauce that accompanied them.

cheese (5 for $15; berry apricot chutney, mixed nuts, green grapes) and "the frenchie" (the burger topped with pork belly) rounded out the meal. the fries are as good as you would expect, and the whole kaboodle comes with classy wooden caddy containing standard plastic squeeze bottles of heinz ketchup (if it ain't broke), maille mustard (maille, oh maille, its horseradishy goodness far surpasses other mustards of that color and texture) and a house-made mustard condiment: grainy, seedy. the trio slathered well on fries and all.

the place had filled up by the time we thought about sweet. at our cozy deuce at the bar, we hadn't looked up much throughout dinner. the kitchen is open, a long pass facing the tables and booths of the rather large dining room, partitioned by open shelving for glassware and such. mirrors make the space look a bigger than it is. and it's pretty big. but it's a good time to fill up a room with a menu like that. although i'll note that the burger was a little small for $17, pork belly notwithstanding.

alexander in his sweater vest poured us rochefort [sic] and the aptly named old engine oil, just two beer options out of dozens on draft, $7 and up. for dessert there are a handful of temptations including a baked alaska for two ($18, fabulous idea); we couldn't see past the end of our coffee caramel sundae full of brownie chunks, mini cookies, nuts and whipped cream. they have three two-scoop sundae options, $9 each. you certainly can't do better at grom, or for that matter, any of those bloody frozen yogurt chains.

the music's good. the mix included a couple of tunes from television's marquee moon, and a song by the hold steady. also worthy of mention: krug is $30 a glass, not a bad deal if you're feeling decadent.

i could see myself dropping some cash here. even more if i were gainfully employed and not planning a trip halfway around the world in two months. DBGB is a good way to get your boulud on without breaking the bank. and they can leave that cardboard up on the door for all i care, as long as there's always a double wide seat at the bar for me and daisy.

parlez-vous franchise?

a (partial?) list of burger chains miraculously supported by the people of new york city:

-(home of the) goodburger
-better burger
-burger heaven
-new york city burger company
-brgr

and now there's more than one
-shake shack

of course i've left out the obvious
mcdonaldsburgerkingwendys&everythingelseyoucanfindontheturnpike.

and that's when we already had the corner bistro (still my favorite) and several
-jackson hole[s]

---- ---- ---- ---- ----

and now for frozen yogurt (i'm pretty sure the latter three aren't even chains, which makes you wonder, how could it be profitable to open your own independent frozen yogurt place amid the existing brambles of pink berries?):

-tasti d-lite
-the lite choice
-pinkberry
-red mango
-berrywild
-flurt
-crazy bananas
-yogurtland
-yogurt yogurt

(can you spot the bogus one? just kidding they all really exist.)

yay capitalism?

NB: of these, crazy bananas (on 32nd between madison and 5th) is easily the best, but they recently remodeled and i have to say, i preferred the vibe when the decor consisted of creepy bobble-heads and a glass-encased carved wood penis collection.)

price fixin' and trash pickin.'

it was such a beautiful friday night, we decided to go out to dinner without a reservation. we strolled up madison; people moved past us with purpose or without. a resourceful and lucky lady rifled through clear plastic bags of clothes by the trash can just outside dolce & gabbana.

later we encountered a haunting and beautiful procession at the synod of bishops russian orthodox church on 93rd street: a large group carrying candles, singing, chanting; some were rather more official looking than others. passersby stopped to listen and look... it all seemed a bit dreamlike, and it felt like a treat to have happened upon it. whatever it was.

...it's nice to see that despite the recession, it's still absurd to walk into any place at 8:30 on friday and expected to be seated right away. we settled somewhat randomly on sarabeth's, which is a perfect mesh of not small and not cool, and thus we were promptly seated on a comfy corner banquette. i think our new thing is going to (have to) be the prix fixe. sarabeth's has one for $30. i'm not sure if it was just what we ordered, but more than a few of their dishes showcase their jammy tendencies. that said, if you do love preserved fruits, each dish manages to balance out nicely, for example how the pleasantly bitter green beans and buttermilk scallion pancakes complement the apricot raisin compote atop the duck breast.

it seems i've gotten kind of used to fancy-pants service, and it was both unsettling and refreshing to enjoy our chocolate truffle cake with a backdrop of butter ramikin and dinner knives.

the park called us as we stepped back out onto the street. when we crossed west on 5th to find our reservoir view another couple was crossing east, looking a bit spooked, and soon we came upon why: a rather large raccoon, lurking by a tree. his masked mug took us in; he defied all attempts at cell phone photography as he began to skulk smoothly and silently uptown, presently disappearing in the shadows along the curb.

it's no surprise that such creatures can thrive on the upper east side. people do throw away some good stuff in this city.

some palindromes and anagrams worthy of mention

i haven't included most of the obvious ones. also, punctuation doesn't count.

palindromes:

I love me, vol. I
go hang a salami; i'm a lasagna hog
tulsa nightlife: filth, gin, a slut
lonely tylenol
stressed? desserts!

anagrams:

listen: silent
aspired...despair
prenatal --> parental
beacon theater: eat bacon there.

the bus drivers are grumpier in philly.

today daisy and i encountered a bus driver who enjoys his job more than average. every stop brought on a little ditty. yeah, it sounds like it would get annoying but it didn't, somehow.

find this man. he was driving the M4 today, going south on 5th avenue at 66th street around 4pm...

discarded bouquet.

found two dozen roses, still in their clear plastic and white paper cone, resting neatly on top of a full trash can on third avenue, on the way back from the supermarket, just as it had started to rain.

took them home. they sure are pretty.

(there must be a good story behind how they got there.)

a partial list of things that are (slightly) older than me:

Ben & Jerry's
Banana Republic
Peking Duck House
Japonica
Union Square Greenmarket
FISA (the Foreign Intelligence Surveillance Act)
Emilio Marcos Palma, the first person born on Antarctica

bigoted tailors; heroine stories

daisy and i just got a total score of 841 in scrabble. four bingos... guess what they were?