Note to self
Thursday, March 27, 2008
Dear Meesh-
Apparently you need a little reminder: you actually aren't Superwoman. I know it's shocking and hard to believe but it's true.
Part of what you need to fit into the 24 hours of a day is actually sleep, which is sort of an essential. You clearly found this out this morning when you thought your alarm that went off at 6 AM (for that yoga class that you were definitely NOT going to miss) was part of your dream. I'm not sure if you remember, but when you finally realized it was actually occurring in real life, for a few moments you decided that you'd rather listen to the annoying sound than make the effort to move to turn it off. The "can't miss" yoga class quickly became a "can't drag my ass out of bed" yoga class. In fact, when you finally did reset your alarm, you slept until 8 AM and to be honest young lady, that still wasn't enough.
Why were you so exhausted Ms. Meesh? Well, it seems that, on your way to the grocery store at 8:30 last night, you forgot that you'd already been up since 6 AM.
Let's take a look at your day, shall we? You left your house at 8:15 for an 8:30 breakfast meeting followed by a full morning of script reading at work. You raced to the chiropractor at 12:15 to help with the constant ache around your left shoulder blade. Dr. George cracked you in ways that you hadn't been cracked before, which, if you'll recall, generally leaves you exhausted. Clearly, you didn't recall. From there, you got in a quick stop at the dry cleaners and then got back to work where you stayed until 7 PM when you had to leave for your 7:30 therapy appointment. You decided to squeeze in a quick stop at Whole Foods to return a few things which sent you racing to therapy so that you wouldn't be late. Did you ever consider that the stuff didn't have to be returned to Whole Foods in that moment? I know, I know...it's seemed convenient and efficient. And took away even a moment of down time that you might have gotten in your car before you proceeded with evening. But hey, down time is for lazy people - right?
You pulled up to therapy, raced out of the car and sat on the couch for an hour discussing the fact that there are more things in your life that you have little to no control over than the things that you do and the fact that this concept occasionally makes you panic. You left feeling that small weight lifted off your shoulders that you often feel when you leave therapy. You left feeling fairly relaxed. This would have been a perfect time to call it a day. You could have been home by 8:35 and had time to actually unwind for the day, perhaps take a moment to relax and catch up on In Treatment or Top Chef.
Instead, you decided that it was a perfect opportunity to go check out the new Fresh and Easy that had opened in Hollywood. After all, you'd been intrigued since hearing about this concept when it opened in Eagle Rock. Fresh produce coming from as many local places as possible at lower than most any supermarket prices. You needed groceries and they were open until 10 PM! So what if it meant battling Hollywood and Highland traffic, having to go into a parking structure to park. You opted to forgo your hatred of parking structures to check out something new. Oh - and on the way, since you passed Bevmo and they were having their fabulous 5 cent sale, you figured you might as well stop in to do that on the way! You had 20 minutes before they closed and you took every second of it to choose your wines. You ran back to your car with 6 new bottles of wine for the price of 3 and headed to your next destination. You pulled into the Fresh and Easy garage at 9:11 after Hollywood Blvd almost made you turn around and go home. For once your lack of patience was pushing you in the right direction and you simply refused to listen. You perused the aisles of the grocery store (enthralled by the insanely low priced, no additives pantry staples) and finally arrived home to a pitch black house at 10:15.
Your first stop at home was the bathroom since you'd had to go since you left the office at 7 but alas, hadn't found a moment to do so. I would ask that you realize that there's a bit of an issue when you fail to leave time in your day for the bathroom. By the time you unpacked your groceries and sat down to eat dinner, it was 10:43. You poured yourself a glass of red wine, sprinkled your half avocado with kosher salt and filled the middle with white wine vinegar while you waited for your steamed shrimp dumplings to heat up in the microwave. (A microwave, I might add, that you rarely use anymore because you actually prefer to cook FRESH food.) You could barely believe your eyes when you realized that it was 10:43. When you finally sunk into your couch to actually relax, the clock read 11:02. As your body finally started to release the tension of the day, you realized that, if you were going to get up for yoga, you really needed to get into bed, which finally ended up happening at 11:22.
I know you feel accomplished. After all, the prices at Fresh and Easy were sort of amazing and thus far, the produce has been nothing short of delicious. You got 6 really good bottles of wine for a total of $40. Your thinking was that if you got it all done, then you could truly enjoy your weekend, not have to think about dinner the next few nights, cross several things off of your to do list.
But Meesh, do I need to remind you that just last week when you went to get your passport picture taken, you were a bit shocked and horrified by the look of the bags under your eyes? Do I need to remind you that, in the month of March, you spent 4 days in NYC barely sleeping, all the while telling yourself that you'd sleep when you got back to LA? When you got back to LA, you threw a birthday party for 40 people for which you spent the 2 days prior cooking until the wee hours of the morning. YOU ARE TIRED. What is the point of making an appointment with a chiropractor to fix the aches in your back if you are going to run around like a fucking MANIAC who thinks that the 24 hours in the day should all be productive? What is the point if you can't make it to your yoga classes which are the only true way that you feel sound - both in mind and body? What is the point of having a full fridge if you're too exhausted to make anything in it?
You don't need some fancy cream to get rid of those bags and you don't need some magic potion to help you get out of bed to go to yoga. You just need to SLOW THE HELL DOWN. And now, I'll put my soap box away - but don't you dare use it to do laundry...that can wait until tomorrow.
Love,
Me
Posted byMeesh-elle my Belle at 10:51 AM 2 comments
Labels: letters, yeah...i'm a little bit crazy
Giving LA a bad name
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
I have dear friends in from NYC who happen to be staying in Brentwood. They have friends all over- Los Feliz, Hancock Park, Hollywood - but few of them live on the west side. So when trying to pick a place that's "convenient" (a word which doesn't really apply in Los Angeles unless you truly live in the same neighborhood) for all parties, we've run into a few issues. Issues which highlight in the brightest, most obnoxious fluorescent yellow the problems I have with this town.
We settled on Amarone Kitchen and Wine Bar for dinner - a little hole in the wall with about eleven tables conveniently located on Sunset right near San Vicente. Since they'd been in Los Feliz earlier and then the Sofitel for cocktails, this was a perfect location for them to shoot directly west on Sunset to arrive home later that evening. Amarone feels like a little slice of Italy with the chefs greeting you with an authentic "Buona Sera" as you pass by the kitchen. I was beyond thrilled to find that they had my beloved Falanghina on the wine list- a white wine from the Campania region of Italy that I drank endlessly on the island of Capri last June. And the extensive menu made decisions difficult. We settled on sharing (as I love to do most) and started with grilled calamari and burrata on a bed of arugala. The calamari was delicious - tender and seasoned to perfection. And the burrata was quite nice although the arugala could have used a little splash of lemon and olive oil from the kitchen. For dinner we had a filet stuffed with drunken goat cheese with a balsamic reduction and a squid ink linguine with fruits de mer in a light tomato sauce. The clearly homemade pasta was light and tangy and the steak was tender and full of flavor. I would go back to Amarone to sample more from their menu in a heartbeat.
Clearly, this was not the annoying part of our evening. After Amarone, we wanted to go someplace close by for a drink with some other friends traveling from Los Feliz. Given that we were on Sunset, I suggested Sky Bar at the Mondrian. Sure it's a scene and can be mildly annoying but the views are killer and it was a gorgeous uncharacteristically warm LA evening. It's generally not busy in the earlier half of the evening and I've lounged on on of the beds with friends on several enjoyable occasions. So we walk up to Sky bar and the place is empty. I mean EMPTY. Literally not a soul in sight save the "host" at the podium who quickly informs us that we're at the entrance for hotel guests. This is the same entrance through which I've entered Sky Bar on no fewer than five occasions.But he was relentless and sent us to the entrance on Sunset where we were told that without reservations, we can't come in. It's a Monday night. It's 10:15. We already know that there's NO ONE IN THE FUCKING BAR. Honestly? I'm too old for this crap. I just wanted to go to a nice hotel and have another glass of wine.
We cross the street to Katana - a sushi spot with an entire deck of outdoor seating. I've eaten at Katana about 15 times since I moved to LA. I've literally walked in and eaten at the bar on a few occasions. But all of a sudden, there's a RED VELVET ROPE OUTSIDE KATANA! People, this place is not new. It's been around for 4 years. And on top of that, this place is NOT FULL! It's EMPTY. But we are again greeted with "Sorry - reservations only."
There was an article in the LA Times a while back about how restaurants in Los Angeles were telling people they couldn't accommodate for certain reservation times. The writer of the article would then proceed to go to these places only to find out that there was not a single soul in the entire restaurant. Further, when the writer arrived at the restaurant at the reservation time she was given, she was often made to wait despite the fact that there was an almost empty dining room before her. These places were trying to give the illusion that they were difficult to get into (and I suppose it wasn't an illusion at all given that they were actually turning people down for reservations). Are Angelinos SO VAPID that they would rather appear cool than actually MAKE MONEY??? Seriously people. I am baffled. Ed. note: I tried to find the article to link to it but it appears it's been removed from the LA Times. The original article was entitled "Table at 7? LA begs to differ"
Granted I haven't gone out on Sunset in close to two years so perhaps in an effort to make everything old new again, these places are attempting to up the exclusivity factor. And next time I'll make less of an effort to find a place that's convenient and more of an effort to find a place that's actually cool.
We ended up deciding to grab a table at the very chi-chi Saddle Ranch which was possibly the funniest experience I've had in a long time. We thought about riding the bull but decided that we'd rather not spend the remainder of the evening in the emergency room which is inevitably where I would have landed. Our favorite part of the experience was the smoldering and steaming carafe that was brought out posing as the premium margarita that my friend ordered. Literally smoking. 
At least we're in good company -- Carrie, Samantha, and Miranda ended up at the Saddle Ranch in one of the LA episodes:
Samantha: All the fabulous places in LA and we're at the saddle ranch chophouse?
Carrie: Hey - don't complain. It's the closest bar without a hill involved.
That pretty much sums it up.
Posted byMeesh-elle my Belle at 12:09 PM 0 comments
Labels: driving, food and drink, LA rant
Something weird is going on
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
I'm here people. And I've actually been writing - just not posting so much. I'm feeling oddly detached from my blog posts these days...like there's a crucial element of me-ness missing a lot of the time. That was one of the things that I heard most when people started reading me - those that knew me said they could hear my voice through the screen. And I knew exactly what they meant...but my voice isn't radiating through as much these days. So I'm holding off on posting as much until the me is back in the post.
Although while I'm here, I might as well tell you about my quiche-filled weekend. I haven't gotten around to posting the pictures yet, but I had a quiche extravaganza. As I have disclosed, I'm stubborn so I was determined to make my own crust. (And btw, I'm just as determined now to make a quiche with a pre-made crust and see if there's any freaking difference AT ALL.) I made the dough at various times during the day on Friday so that it would sit overnight as it's supposed to. I decided to try 2 different recipes. Despite the fact that everyone and their mother wrote about how difficult Thomas Keller's quiches were, I decided I should make one. In fact, it was probably BECAUSE of the fact that everyone said they were so hard. And let me tell you something - Thomas Keller's quiche was not my problem. His directions were clear, I followed them and I had a grand quiche at the end.
My biggest issue? Roquefort cheese (and he calls for a lot of it) is a bit rich when you're talking quiche. A quiche is rich enough without adding blue cheese to boot. Too much. I would make it again but fill it differently. While this quiche was by far that most time consuming (it's bigger so everything has to cook longer), it was actually the easiest.
The next recipe that I tried was from the restaurant Tartine in San Francisco. The filling had creme fraiche in it and I have to say that it fascinates me that this one food has so many different variations on fillings. They all have eggs and some sort of dairy but the kinds of dairy and different proportions are so vastly different that I feel like I could make quiche for weeks trying to find the best recipe. That's not happening in the near future however, because I am OVER quiche.
Anyhow, I made the Tartine crust recipe which was meant to be a bit thinner than the previous quiche. I made one in a pie plate and one in a tart pan. This recipe did NOT call for the crust to be anchored. Word to the wise. ALWAYS ANCHOR YOUR CRUST. Leave plenty of extra overhang and smoosh that baby to the side of the pan with all your might. If you don't, there is a good possibility that just a small little section of your crust will move itself down the side of the tart pan or pie dish. And it won't appear to be a problem - you'll just think that it looks a little funky. Until you pour the filling in and it leaks out of that one little side and underneath your beautiful crust and you end up having to do this:
Yes ladies and gentlemen, that is, indeed, a garbage can. And in it, my pie crust. This happened at 10 PM on Saturday night. And no, I did not plan poorly, I had already made 1 quiche, lemon bars, breakfast bread pudding, and homemade oreos
(which were amazing, thanks to Deb at Smitten Kitchen). I'd cooked the quiche crusts earlier but then they had to cool completely...So at 10 at night, I was ready to pour my filling with chicken sausage, mushrooms, onions, and mozzarella into that baby to bake. But instead, I had a quiche disaster. In case you forgot, let me remind you:
BUT I salvaged the filling and poured it into the tart instead and lo and behold THE SAME FUCKING THING HAPPENED ALL OVER AGAIN! I was NOT going down with this ship though...the tart shell was in a removable bottom pan and I worked quickly. I pulled the crust out of the pan completely, set it on a cookie sheet and shoved it in the oven. I figured it was worth a shot. Because one crust was all I had the energy left to make that night. The bottom stuck to the pan a little, but I slid a serrated edged knife under it and wallah! I had my quiche:
As you can see, the crust is not exactly even and it's not quite as pretty as the above quiche, but it tasted AMAAAAAAZING. I highly recommend this filling combo - it was the first to go.
So what did I do given that I was having 40 people for brunch and I had only 2 quiches? I did the only thing there was to do. It seemed far easier to make another crust than it did to get in my car, go to the grocery store and buy a crust. So I made it. The trial quiche I'd made last week called for a crust that didn't have to sit in the fridge for an hour, so I made that one. I made another basic filling with the Tartine recipe and filled it with spinach, shallots, and gruyere. I was in a bit of a rush given that it was now 11:15 at night and I'd been cooking for a full 12 hours, so I didn't let the crust brown as much as I should have, but I have to say, all things considered, it was pretty fabulous.
I knew that no matter what, I had my dad's famous breakfast bread pudding recipe and there was no way I could go wrong with that. Sorry - no pictures...I was too busy running around the house like a maniac 10 minutes before people arrived.
The lemon bars were my best yet (thank you Ina, who should be renamed the Barefoot Goddess as far as I'm concerned)
and the oreos are now a permanent fixture in my repertoire.
OHHHHHHH - and if you want an instant crowd pleaser, then put your bacon on a cookie sheet, sprinkle it with brown sugar and bake it at 375 for 35 minutes until it's crispy. It was literally gone the second I put it down on the table.
I added a simple mixed green salad, a bowl of satsumas 
and a big bowl of berries 
and my work was done.
Well, mostly. If you are having a brunch for 40 people, you should know that three quiches is NOT enough. Also, the slices that you see cut above were quickly reduced by at least half (possibly more) as I realized there was no chance in hell that I could have enough for everyone with such generous portions. So I cut the quiches into smaller slivers and before a panic attack ensued, I called Urth Cafe and ordered one of their tomato basil quiches and sent an incredible friend to pick it up. Crisis averted. At the end of the day, we had about 3 1/2 pieces of quiche left over. Lesson learned. Make at least one quiche for every 10 people and cut it into more than 10 slices.
Oh - and as you'll see above, I tried to be as environmentally friendly as possible...We bought recycline utensils...plastic that can be dishwashed. Of course, no one actually read the sign and I definitely had to fish a few out of the garbage before I went around making an announcement (because at 4.99 for a set of 8, I wasn't sending those puppies to a landfill.) We used our cloth napkins and glasses that we had. The only thing I got lazy with was dishes - both for cleanup and cost. But we used biodegradable Whole foods plates and I'm leaning more and more towards getting a composter that you can keep under your sink so that next time, the dishes can just go straight in there and help my flowers grow.
And that's all folks. Funny after all that mishegas at the beginning, I know I'm in this post. Maybe I'm coming back. We shall see, shan't we?
Posted byMeesh-elle my Belle at 5:18 PM 6 comments
Labels: conscious living, food and drink
NYC - day 2
Friday, March 14, 2008
First of all, thank you for all the quiche tips and recipes. It was resoundingly unanimous that none of you make your own crust. I am now determined to do a taste test and see if a homemade crust really and truly does make a difference. But I decided that if my grandmother could make crusts from scratch until she was about 82, well then, I better learn sometime so that I could start making her world famous (or at least Massachusetts famous) apple pies.
So on Wednesday evening, I made my first crust. I don't know what the hell I was so scared of...it was new and unfamiliar, so I wasn't certain that I was doing it correctly, but it turned out fabulously and it has inspired me to try to try a few different recipes for Sunday. I will let you all know how they turn out.
In the meantime, I've only discussed a small fraction of my New York extravaganza and the rest of it is in need of discussion...
We woke up on Saturday morning around 9 and headed out to Scarsdale to spend the day with my brother and sister in law (How do you say that? They're both my in-laws. Do i have to say my brother-in-law and sister-in-law? That's a lot of freaking words. Anyhow, you now know what I mean. In fact, I don't have a brother so it could ONLY be my brother-in-law.) It was a perfect day to leave the city given that it was pouring rain and I can't think of anything worse than feeling trapped inside on 1 of the 4 days that you are visiting NYC. We lounged with the kids, who never cease to amaze me with their gorgeous faces and how funny they are. It was nice and relaxing and by the time we got back in the car to come back to the city, the rain had stopped.
That night we walked down to another friend's restaurant in Greenwich Village. Smith's is on Macdougal between Bleecker and Houston and it is FABULOUS. It's warm and cozy and sexy at the same time. Now y0u have to understand something about me. I love food. LOVE. That's a whole other post, but my friends can not believe that after eating a meal that I love, I can effectively repeat back the entire menu that we ate. And not just like "Oh yeah, we had tuna tartare and a salad and steak." I list back all the details of every dish, sometimes in more detail than the menu has given. My husband is starting to get used to the fact that when we sit down to dinner I don't just say, "Oooooooh - deviled eggs!" Instead, I read to him from the menu, "Oh. My. God. Deviled Eggs with marscapone, parmesan, and truffle oil!?!??!" I proceed this way with EVERY SINGLE ITEM on the menu that sounds incredible to me.
So it's a big deal for me to hand over the ordering to someone else because it's often either a joint venture, or it's someone else handing the task of ordering over to me. But when you're dealing with the owners of the restaurant, how could you possibly order better than they could? And so, for the second night in a row (Nizza being the first), I put the ordering into someone else's hands. After excited hugs and hello's (and by the way, AP is one of the best huggers I know. AP and SK hug you like they mean it - like they aren't going to let go until you know how much they love you. I love getting hugs from them) we slid into the black booth, and were greeted immediately by a perfect glass of Sauvignon Blanc. The air outside was still warm and a little damp and a nice cold glass of crisp white wine was the perfect start to the evening.
Shortly after, a plate of Smith's famous deviled eggs (which are now available in the dining room as well as the bar) was placed on the table. And they lived up to every expectation I had. A perfectly smooth salty sweet and savory center topped by an eensy parmesan crsip...I could have eaten these all night and been happy. (But that's only because I wasn't yet aware of all the other things to come.)
The restaurant definitely has a buzz but it's remarkably intimate at the same time. I could hear every word that was spoken and I loved that we were next to a huge window looking into a courtyard (I think...it was night so I couldn't really see.) The white and black decor feels clean and crisp, and the intimate size and din of diners lends a sexiness to the atmosphere. The bar i the back looked like a perfect place to perch myself (especially since the bar menu differs from the dining room, and while you can order anything from the dining room at the bar, the bar menu can only be ordered there. Next time...)
Being one of the people in charge, CC took it upon himself to pair wines with our next 3 courses. Ummm...heaven on earth. He brought us another sauvignon blanc - this one from Bel Air - who knew!? We drank and indulged in an arugala salad with apples and parmesan and a light vinaigrette that was slightly sweet, beets simply roasted matched perfectly with a horseradish creme, and a steamed egg with polenta and gorgonzola foam which was unlike anything I'd ever had before but something I would DEFINITELY want to have again.
The chef sent out a mid-course of a seared sea scallop with celery root risotto and another foam (sorry, the kind is slipping me given that we were now tasting our THIRD kind of wine - a fantastic Pinot Gris from Alsace). Once again, divine.
Meanwhile, I got some amazing time with AP. Matt's never really had an opportunity to spend more than an hour with her and the same is true of me with her husband. Even though CC was running the show, I was amazed and thrilled by the amount of time we got to spend with him at our table. It's been a long time since I've had real time with my friends in NYC. Last year, almost every single trip was about wedding stuff and while I got glimpses of their faces, this was the first trip in a really long time that I was able to truly relax and soak my friends in. That's how I felt at this dinner - as relaxed as though I were soaking in a tub with the grandest glass of wine you've ever seen. The booths swallowed us up and sucked us into a world where we could indulge and feel as though we had days together when in fact it was only a few hours. And when you're visiting old friends, time is the greatest luxury of all.
Our main course consisted of brussel sprouts sauteed with almonds - but they were pulled apart almost like you'd pull apart a head of lettuce - retaining all of the flavor but making them extra crunchy and light. The cauliflower gratin was doused with tallegio and was among the best I've ever had. We also shared the dourade with a lemon vinaigrette (and forgive me for forgetting the accompaniments but it was one of my favorite fish dishes I've had in a while and at the end of the meal, there wasn't a drop of anything left on that plate). All of this accompanied by a perfect pinot noir.
We had no room for dessert but who needs room for dessert? My first bite of the meyer lemon tart made my mouth sing. Often places don't get it right...the lemon is too sweet with not enough tart. There's too much crust...etc. etc. But this was a perfectly smooth and creamy lemon filling with just enough freshly whipped cream to compliment. And I think I may have had a glass of port with dessert...
Over dinner we decided that the 4 of us would vacation fabulously together. This is not true with everyone that you love. Just because you like each other, it does NOT mean that you will have a great time on vacation together. Given that vacations are supposed to be RELAXING, it is IMPERATIVE that you feel that you are able to be yourself completely, that your vacation partners have similar tastes and vacation styles. It is not possible to go away with just anyone. But we were in resounding agreement that the four of us were a good match and we're planning a long weekend in Napa this summer. Can you think of anything better than going to Napa with a wine expert and restauranteur (besides going with the person you love OBVIOUSLY)?
Feeling fully satiated both in my belly and my heart, we said our goodbyes with excitement for our future trip. I'm going back to Smith's again because the filet at the table next to us looked perfect and I'm dying to taste the homemade corzetti (which is a pasta.) Perhaps I'll sit at the bar...
Despite gale force winds, we hopped in a cab after dinner and headed up to Chelsea to SK's apartment for dessert. Yes, I know we'd already had dessert but they hadn't. So I suppose you could say we went up for a night cap. Does anyone really use that word anymore? It's a great word. I think I'll use it more often. "Do you want to come over for a night cap?" Love it. I don't know how long we were there but as always, it was amazingly fun and I've gotten to spend so much time with SK in the past 6 months between her visits out to LA and mine to NY that it's not like visiting at all anymore. Perfect.
We finally dragged ourselves home (although I'm quite convinced that I might have been able to stay up all night, high on the sheer joy of being with my best friends) and went to bed. I did need a few hours of sleep so that I could get up the next day and do it all over again.
Posted byMeesh-elle my Belle at 10:22 AM 0 comments
Labels: food and drink, NYC, travels
For the Love of Quiche
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
Alright - I have to take a break from my NYC recap to discuss the insanity that is otherwise known as me. Let me explain.
I'm having a brunch for my husband's birthday on Sunday at our house. I love entertaining. LOVE. I love having dinner parties, bridal showers, cocktail parties, brunch extravaganzas...I love it. I love planning the menus, planning the flowers, figuring out my schedule. And I'm good at it. I know this.
I'm also Jewish which means that the worst possible thing that could happen at any of the above events is that I run out of something. Food, alcohol, parking permits...everything must be in abundance which means that I end up making ridiculous amounts of food.
Mostly, however, I tend to panic over things that do not need panicking. I am an excellent cook. If the recipe is a good recipe, then it's always comes out well. I've gotten good at altering recipes to fit my own tastes as well. And baking, which is a science, is a natural for me since I am completely anal and I measure everything perfectly - a trait which can be annoying at other times in my life but comes in extremely handy in baking.
I love to try new recipes. Love. Especially when it's been tried by someone else that I trust - be it my good friend, Ina (aka The Barefoot Contessa), my mom, or one of the foodblogs that I've grown to trust and love.
So can someone PLEASE explain to me why I have my panties in a bunch over the idea of making a quiche crust? I am totally petrified. I am picturing any number of horrifying things happening. I simply can not fathom that I will be able to make this without royally screwing it up. I have considered the crustless quiche - but no. If I am going to make a quiche, I'm making the crust...because as Thomas Keller says, it's not a quiche without a crust.
I have now spent countless hours scouring the internet for "easy" quiche crust recipes. All of them terrify me. What if I don't get the consistency right? What if it's too dense, not dense enough? What if I roll it out to 1/3 of an inch instead of 1/4? What if, what if, what if...WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH ME???
It's not like I'm going to freaking poison anyone. It's not like I'm not already making my very fabulous, constantly requested, tried and true breakfast bread pudding among other things that I am certain will leave everyone satisfied and delighted even if, for some reason, my quiches crash and burn.
Regardless, I have been obsessing ALL DAY over quiche. I go back and forth between "I have to have a crust" and "Screw Thomas Keller". I'm trying to find Julia's famed recipe online but alas, I may just have to get my ass to the bookstore to purchase a copy of Mastering the Art of French Cooking. I have The Joy of Cooking at home and supposedly, that's a good recipe as well...BUT WHAT IF IT ISN'T? If only Ina had a quiche recipe!!!
Someone - anyone - please tell me if you have a quiche recipe you love, if you think a quiche is still a quiche without the crust. You're welcome to tell me that I'm a total lunatic - it's nothing I don't already know.
I just want to stop obsessing over freaking QUICHE!!!!
Posted byMeesh-elle my Belle at 12:43 PM 1 comments
Labels: food and drink, things that get me riled up, yeah...i'm a little bit crazy
The perfect day
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
We arrived at JFK at 6:03-an hour later than scheduled. I sat in the middle seat on the plane which meant that anytime I fell asleep, my head flopped over too far and woke me up. Or if I rested on my husband's shoulder, as soon as I'd fallen comfortably asleep, he shifted. Essentially, I was miserable. But no matter...we were home. We got in the car and I immediately dozed off. I'm sure it was no coincidence that I didn't open my eyes again until we were in the city. They cracked open long enough to let the high rises welcome me home. There's nothing that I love more than driving into the city at that time of day, before the hustle and bustle has completely taken over. The sun rising over the buildings is a reminder that it's a new day in this land of possibilty and anything can (and will) happen.
We arrived in the West Village at 6:36 and promptly crawled into bed. Is it completely deranged that the construction of the new apartment building across the street lulled me to sleep? I awoke 5 1/2 hours later to watch "Lost" and eat an egg and cheese sandwich generously picked up by my mother-in-law. There are no egg and cheese sandwiches like NYC egg and cheese sandwhiches. No one else knows how to make them the way New Yorkers do.
We got dressed and ventured out for my favorite kind of NYC afternoon...the kind where you just wander and let your feet lead you wherever it is that you're supposed to go. The air was brisk enough to feel refreshing but not cold. We ventured down Bleecker, stopping in my favorite stores and admiring new ones (thank you Tommy Hilfiger for my new 350 dollar boots on sale for 99.99. I love a good bargain.)
Every time I walk down the streets of Manhattan I feel high. It never goes away - I am invigorated, alive, and on top of the world. I find myself breathing more deeply, walking more quickly, wanting to go places even when I have no place that I have to go.
After a jaunt through the West Village and a stop at my favorite coffee shop, Panino Giusto, for a perfect latte, we headed home. I looked at about 20 stores I could have gone into but it was just day 1...there was no rush.
At 5:30, we went to a pre-theater dinner at old standby, Orso, with my in-laws and my sister. And then we were off to the theeee-ah-tah to see August Osage County.
A. Maz. Ing.
Honestly. You can not miss this work of art. Tony awards are going to abound but more than that, I was riveted from start to finish. A genius piece of theatre about relationships and families and the truth of it all. And if you think you're fucked up, you'll leave this feeling shaken up, but normal. The second act is the most riveting act of theater that I have EVER seen. Period. Beg, borrow and steal to see this one, baby. It's the best and most exciting play I've seen in a long time.
But also know that it will leave you fairly frazzled. After the show we wandered over to meet our friends at their new restaurant, Nizza. Along the way, we talked about the show in partial sentences, unable to fully express our thoughts. I didn't realize how my heart was racing and my mind was reeling until we sat down and I couldn't hold a proper conversation for at least five minutes. I was literally a babbling idiot. In order to calm my nerves, I decided to order my new cocktail of choice, the very appropriate Manhattan. I had my first Manhattan at Thanksgiving in 2007 and I've never looked back. It's fitting that my favorite drink and my favorite place are one in the same. Anyhow, we sat down at Nizza and once we both finally relaxed, had a fabulous evening of catching up with our friends, not to mention a delicious post-theater meal. I was starving - as far as I was concerned, "dinner" was lunch and this was dinner.
Nizza is a sexy atmosphere and a fabulous option whether or not you're seeing theater. The menu is conducive to sharing small plates which is my absolutely favorite way to eat. The socca - a crispy chickpea pancake, was a perfect combination of salty and sweet and the broccoli bruschetta was piled to the ceiling with the delicious topping. You can't go wrong with the talleggio panini with fig marmellata. Figs and tallegio? To die for. But my favorite, by far, was the focacette - fried ravioli filled with gooey cheese. Oh. My. God. I could eat these every day for the rest of my life and not get sick of them. My ass would get sick of them, but my taste buds would not. At this point, you could have rolled me out of the place, but I had to taste the pasta al pesto which used flat wide noodles with a perfectly savory pesto. And once I tasted, I couldn't stop. (There's no use for self control when you're visiting New York City.) I didn't even get a chance to taste the tomato soup with fresh ricotta or any of the mouth watering pizzas...which clearly means that I'll just have to go back on my next trip! And I highly recommend that you do too...
I love being with friends and having so much to say and to talk about and gush about and be thrilled about for each other that you practically choke on the air. And then what is it about New York that makes you feel like you can drink anyone under the table? Two manhattans and several fabulous stories later, we poured out of Nizza with satisfyingly full bellies.
Something happens to me when I'm in New York. I can stay up for HOURS. In LA, I fall asleep on my couch at 10. Despite the fact that I'd barely slept, my body clock was all sorts of fucked up, I'd just seen a 3 and a half hour marathon of an emotionally depleting show, and I'd had two extremely strong cocktails, I was still up for more. We hopped in a cab downtown and met Aisha at Employee's Only. But determined not to ruin the following day with a hangover the size of the entire island, I refrained from any more Manhattans and hydrated myself with water. At 2, I left my husband behind to play with one of his oldest friends while I journeyed home.
This is what I love about New York. At 2:15 on a Friday night, the city was a pulsating mecca of life. I barely noticed that my feet were hitting the pavement - it literally felt like I floated down the streets of the West Village, once again breathing in the crisp air, feeding off the energy of those around me and giving them mine right back. The street lights flickered and the cabs raced by and I played my New York game of seeing how many blocks I could walk without having to stop to wait for a light at a cross walk. The night was on my side and I made it home without having to stop once. It's a good thing too because my body was flying through the streets with such excitement and movement that it felt as though stopping was impossible.
I pranced home, downed a bottle of water, and let my head hit the pillow. I had to be up at 9 for tomorrow was a new day and I wasn't willing to waste much of it with sleep.
Panino Giusto, 551 Hudson between Perry and 11th
Nizza, 630 9th Avenue between 44th and 45th, 212-956-1800
Employees Only, 510 Hudson between Christopher and 10th, 212-242-3021
Posted byMeesh-elle my Belle at 5:45 PM 1 comments
Labels: food and drink, NYC, travels
I heart New York
Monday, March 10, 2008
It's always hard to leave when there's no set date to come back. And the excruciatingly long plane ride back to LA doesn't help matters.
Then again, sometimes the universe (my universal go to expression for the explanation of that something somewhere that gives you the message you need exactly at the moment you need it...) hands you an attitude adjustment on a silver platter. Tonight that was an episode of "Sex and the City" followed by an announcement from the pilot that we'd be landing almost an entire hour early. And as if that weren't enough, tbs then announced yet ANOTHER "Sex and the City" episode to remind me that yes, I did have to leave NYC tonight. But I had four of the best days ever filled with the kind of conversations that satiate your desire for your closest friends, the kind of culinary delights that make you forget that the restaurants in LA can't possibly compare, theater that makes you pulse race and your mind reel and your eyes brim with tears, walks through the West Village with the boy I love reminiscent of the days we first met. There was no way I could fit it all in in 4 days...there were good friends I tried to see and couldn't and good friends that I didn't even tell I was there...but I sure as hell tried.
After all, when you've only got 81 hours in your favorite city in the world, there's no time for sleep. I can sleep now that I'm back in LA.
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Posted byMeesh-elle my Belle at 9:07 PM 0 comments
Random musings from a jaunt to Starbucks
Tuesday, March 4, 2008
I grabbed a coffee before a meeting last night. Well, it was actually a tall nonfat extra hot decaf mocha and no, I can't say that or write it without laughing at how ridiculous that sounds. Clearly I was at Starbucks (not Coffee Bean because many of you know how i feel about that). So I'm waiting for my ridiculous cofee extravaganza and there's a book called "Beautiful Boy" sitting there as part of the whole Starbucks move to not only rule the world of coffee but also the world of entertainment. (And for the record, I do prefer the indie coffee establishments but every so often, I succumb to convenience.)
SO. I pick up this book, Beautiful Boy, which is a father's account of his son's struggles with meth addiction. I take a look at the inside flap and get sucked in. The book is an expansion of an article that Sheff wrote in the NY Times Magazine about how his "good kid" turned to a life of drug addiction and Sheff's OWN struggle with being addicted to saving his child. I'm already in and then I read this quote:
"Sheff's story is honest, reflective and deeply moving. Sadly, it is a story all too relevant for our troubled times. When one of us tells the truth, he makes it easier for all of us to open our hearts to our own pain and to that of others. That’s ultimately what Beautiful Boy is about: truth and healing." --Mary Pipher, Author of Writing to Change the World and Reviving Ophelia
I read it again. When one of us tells the truth, he makes it easier for all of us to open our hearts to our own pain and to that of others. I love this woman. I love this man for not being afraid to share himself so that others can feel less alone. I have been thinking about this since I read it last night.
Is it as true for all of you as it is for me? That at the end of the day, all I really want is to be surrounded by truth rather than smoke and mirrors and walls of perfection.
That's all.
Posted byMeesh-elle my Belle at 12:17 PM 4 comments
Labels: introspection, musings on life, random thoughts
