italy...
Friday, June 27, 2008
...Is where I am. I got a moment on the internet and figured it would
have been nice if I'd let you all know that before I left.after
realizing that I failed to do so, I attempted an email from Heathrow
on our way here but clearly I failed.
I'm currently sitting under the tuscan sun, patting my big fat belly
from the home cooked italian meal we had last night. Tomorrow we leave
for Barcelona and I'll return with tales next week.
Until then, ciao...
--
Posted byMeesh-elle my Belle at 1:11 AM 2 comments
Foodie Heaven
Thursday, June 19, 2008
IF someone told me that I could choose between not eating and being skinny the rest of my life or eating amazing food and struggling with/having to work to keep my body in shape, I would unquestionably pick the latter. Oh wait - someone did tell me that. And I started therapy shortly thereafter.
I love food. Good food is a true art. A talent beyond measure. It is not a given that one can follow a recipe and therefore be a good cook. It is not a given that one knows how to entertain. Just as a musician hears the notes and knows what how to create a symphony, as an artist knows how to mix the colors on the palette, as a director can clearly envision the perfect shot, a chef creates a symphony of flavors, mixes the ingredients, envisions the perfect meal.
Saturday night, I had the joy and pleasure of being a guest at one of the greatest dinners I have ever been at. How often in your life do you go to someone's home and experience a tasting menu? Our friend Jackie, is not only a superior chef, but she's an incredible host.
A good host knows how to bring the perfect group of people together. They know when to gather for appetizers and when the right time is to serve dinner. They make things seem effortless (ed. note: I need work in this area...) They set a table that looks gorgeous. They have a home that feels completely welcoming. And most of all, they ENJOY entertaining.
And if the food is good, well, that's an added bonus. A tasting menu? That's next level. Saturday I had a 7 course (8 if you include the apps outside on the patio with the Pol Roger champagne) dinner that could have been served in any of LA's finest restaurants. This is not the first time this has happened. Last November**, Jackie invited us over to dinner and I thought I'd died and gone to heaven. I also drank every glass of (sometimes 2) wine that was paired with every dish and came home and had the spins for the first time in...oooooooooooooh, I don't know...EIGHT YEARS!!! And of course, I knew the food would be fabulous tonight as it always is.
BUT ANOTHER TASTING MENU???? ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME???
And not simply a tasting menu. A tasting menu complete with wine pairings.
Rihaku Saki
Blini with Caviar and Lemon Creme Fraiche
Pol Roger Champagne
Artichoke and Spinach Stuffed Sombreroni
Cakebread Sauvignon Blanc
Halibut wtih Shiitake Mushrooms and Asparagus
Gevrey Chameain 2005 Dupont-Tisseronda
Lamb Chops with Parsnip and Parsley Root Puree
Beckman Purisima Moutains 2005
Dark Chocolate Terrine with Summer Fruits
Elysium Blush Muscat
Chaource with Red Plums and Clove scented oil
Elysium Blush Muscat
And while we're talking food, I might as well mention that I had dinner at the new Father's Office
in Century City last Friday night. We were almost deterred by the threat of a long wait, but we decided to brave it since we'd be in line with good friends and it was NOT a mistake.
I've never been the Father's Office in Santa Monica, but I've heard that it's a hole in the wall with 6 tables. This place is definitely not that. There's a fabulous outdoor seating area and if you can snag a table there, it makes the experience that much more lovely. I make it sound as though it's small - but it's not. It's just always packed. The bar, which runs the length of the room inside, is great looking and I'd be happy to park myself there for a cocktail any night. And yes, they do have cocktails and wine too(as opposed to the SM outpost which only serves beer.). I opted for one of their classic cocktails and got a Manhattan - and I will say, it was one of the finer Manhattans I've had in a long time with the BEST cherries ever. The boys both got one of their 50-something beers on tap, and my girlfriend had a glass of wine, which is also on tap.
A and I decided to split one of the famous burgers. How can you NOT get a burger at a place that is WORLD FAMOUS (ok - maybe just LA famous and foodie famous) for their burgers. For those of you not from LA (or who have been living under a rock) Father's Office is home of the burger nazi, chef Sang Yoon. His burger is supposed to be the most delicious you've ever had, but you have to eat it his way or no way at all. His way means smothered in cheese and caramelized onions with a layer of lettuce on top to keep the bun it's served on crunchy. No ketchup, no mustard, no sauce of any sort. Because as all foodies out there know, chefs feel that ketchup kills the taste of the burger.
The boys each got their own and we shared one, with 2 "a la carte" sides of fries, served in...mini-shopping carts. Get it? A la carte? Cute. More importantly. DELICIOUS. I could swim in those sweet potato fries with salt crystals big enough to see and crunch in your mouth. And no ketchup for your fries either - plain is served with a blue cheese aioli and sweet potato comes with garlic. Both were divine.
And the burger. I don't often crave a burger...but this. This burger!!!! Oh. My. GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOD. It was divine. I'm not going to do it justice. Just go try it for yourself. That's because it's not just beef. It's dry aged strip steak. And it's not just cheese - it's a mixture of gruyere AND blue. And it's not just caramelized onion - it's an onion compote. And it's not just lettuce - it's arugula. AND it's not even served on a bun - it's served on french bread. WOW.
I thought this place was all burger and fries and nothing else...but I was pleasantly surprised to find myself with more than enough other options if I ever want to go and not eat a heart attack on a plate. He serves up a bunch of different tapas style plates that all looked fantastic. We decided to try the mushrooms sauteed with garlic, the soprasadas (a spanish ham on a crostini topped with melted manchego. umm..YUM) and the simple beet salad with walnuts and blue cheese.
There was nothing we got that wasn't good. It was IMPOSSIBLE to finish it all because that burger is insanely rich. But you can bet your ass we tried.
And it should not go without mention that the staff here was unbelievably lovely. Helpful, friendly, funny and informative...And it wasn't just one or two of them. Everyone, doorman included, was insanely nice.
Added bonus? We had a David Cook sighting. Yeah...he walked right by our table on his way to a table in the back of the restaurant. We were all awestruck momentarily...until we remembered our burgers.
Some things are more important than Idol. This burger is definitely one of them.
Dom Perignon
Deconstructed Nicoise Salad with Tuna Sashimi
Cloudy River Sauvignon Blanc
Butternut Squash Soup with Creme Fraiche
Cloudy River Sauvignon Blanc
Pomegranate Sorbet
Cod en Papillote
Chardonnay (I think...)
Game Hen with Israeli Couscous and Chicken Jus
Pinot Noir
Braised Short Ribs
Cabernet Sauvignon
Blue Cheese with Marcona Almonds and Honey
Port
Goat's Milk Icecream with Liquored Berries
Port
Father's Office LA, 3229 Helms Avenue, Culver City 310-736-2224
and I know you wish you had Jackie's phone number so you could call her to get invited to her next dinner party...
Posted byMeesh-elle my Belle at 12:42 AM 2 comments
Labels: food and drink, whilst drinking
If You Can Know Where You're Going, You've Already Gone.
Monday, June 16, 2008
Before I left NYC in July of 2004, I had spent the previous five years seeing every show there was to see on Broadway. I went to open dress rehearsals, got tickets to shows in previews, was given the Tony award tickets that my bosses couldn't use. After I moved that summer, I spent my time in NYC seeing friends, not shows. In the time between July 2004 and March 2008, I saw three shows. Three shows in three and a half years. I didn't even watch the Tony Awards last year.
Last night, as I sat watching (or should I say, weeping through) the Tony Awards, it occurred to me that it was quite possible that my lack of current knowledge about the NYC theater scene had been intentional.
Yes, it's true I am usually only in NYC for a long weekend. It's true that I rarely have the opportunity to go back for extended periods of time and that the majority of the people closest to me all live in that city. Time certainly played a role.
But more than anything, I think I couldn't. I couldn't keep track of the theater world because if I did, then I was wildly aware of what I was missing. If I continued to keep track - to read all the websites, the theater section of the NY Times - I was going to stay stuck. Upset that I wasn't there. That I had moved on.
So I left it behind.
I remember going to see Clay at the Kirk Douglas last fall and that feeling I got from seeing live theater again. Inspired. Invigorated. Excited. I knew that I couldn't leave that part of me behind anymore. I knew that instead, I had to just keep it tucked away for the time being.
In March we went to see August Osage County on a Friday and went to the opening of In the Heights on a Sunday. After three shows in three years, I was seeing two in one weekend. I felt like I did when my mom took me to see Peter Pan at the Colonial in Boston when I was five. Theater felt special again.
And when I sat in those audiences, I had this visceral reaction, one which I haven't had since I was 15 years old. It was the summer of 1988. I had gone to New York City with my camp to see The Phantom of the Opera. I watched the entire show perched on the edge of my seat. And at the end of the show, as is customary, the audience applauded. They applauded hard. Harder and harder with each actor that came on stage. And when Christine came out, the audience leapt to it's feet. The sounds of hands beating together swelled and all of a sudden, I realized I had tears streaming down my face. I couldn't stop it, I wasn't even aware that it had happened. The energy in that room was so overwhemingly HUGE in that moment...the actors on stage beaming, the audience in that moment giving back what it had received for the past three hours.
And that weekend, as I sat through the curtain calls of August Osage County and In the Heights, the tears rolled down my cheeks again. When the audience is just so electrified by what they've seen that the applause doesn't stop...I'm telling you - the beating of hands over and over again, so hard that your palms turn red, so incessantly to make certain that the recipients are clear that you are grateful for the three hours in which they just gave to you so fully and completely...It makes me explode. It's why I am madly and deeply in love with theater.
If you can know where you're going
The choice may have been mistaken
The choosing was not
You have to move on
I don't remember everything about the end of In the Heights - I know the last song was about being home, coming home...something along those lines. Those are the only words I can remember because the whole concept resonated so true for me. Sitting in the mezzanine at my first opening since I moved to Los Angeles, I felt the ease you experience when you share a glass of wine with your best friend, when you walk through the door into the house you grew up in and the smells of your mother's cooking waft through the halls, that sense of familiarity and pure comfort. I was home.
And last night, I cried my way through the Tony awards. I miss the theater. I miss the sense of community. I miss the art. Theater artists give blood, sweat and tears to put on a show. They are unbelievably grateful for the work they do, for the audience that comes to see them work. They write and rewrite and rewrite again. Not for weeks or months. For years. And those actors get up and perform live - eight shows a week. They recreate these crazy, insane, exuberant, ALIVE characters...every single night. There's nothing like the theater.
I miss the theater. It time to brush off that part of myself that's been tucked away and see what it wants to do. The lyrics of that song don't only mean what they seemed to initially...I heard them and thought about leaving things behind, focusing on the new. But sometimes moving on means refinding, redefining and recreating the old.
It's time to move on.
Posted byMeesh-elle my Belle at 2:30 PM 1 comments
Labels: introspection, musings on life, NYC
Dr. Jekyll and Mrs. Hyde
Monday, June 9, 2008
They say the first step is admitting you have a problem.
We were playing Celebrity. Anyone unfamiliar with Celebrity should know it's a game of pop culture. Everyone writes down a bunch of names of "celebrities" on paper (sports figures, political figures, movie stars, singers...anyone who is a bona fide CELEBRITY -the meaning of which is apparently up for discussion) and throws them in a bowl. Sort of like keys in a bowl except not really because no one goes home with someone else. Unless you win the game and that's the grand prize. (ed. note: Wow. Where did that come from?) ANYHOW...teams take turns giving clues and trying to get their fellow team members to guess as many celebrities as possible in the allotted time period. It's fun, it's festive, it's fabulous.
Unless you're playing with me, apparently. Apparently, when I play Celebrity, some sort of Jekyll and Hyde thing happens and I turn from lovely and gracious (albeit slightly loud) hostess to competitive, tantrum throwing monster. There. I've done it. I've admitted I have a problem. I've taken the first step.
I'm not really sure what happened last night. Except to say that I haven't had a cocktail since my Sex and the City escapade in NYC (which apparently resulted in the contraction of strep throat. STREP THROAT??? What am I - 12? Wait...don't answer that. If you were with me last night, you would have answered yes.) So when I did have a couple of glasses of wine, it hit me a little harder than it might have. (The question here is this -- does this mean that I should have had less to drink? Or simply that I need to make sure that I'm drinking more consistently in order to keep my tolerance up?)
We break off into teams of two and I am with the celebrity virgin who, claiming she knows absolutely nothing about celebrity culture, is scared shitless. Having been a celebrity virgin myself at one time and having been slightly scarred by the experience of a very type A partner who was infuriated with me for not knowing Carrot Top from the clue "vegetable comedian", I was determined to make her first experience with the game a lighthearted one.
Sometimes good intentions just aren't enough.
It's not that I got upset with her. In fact, I was so determined to make her experience a good one, that I somehow became infuriated and enraged with the rest of the people around us when I tried to make the game as user-friendly as possible and was told that I was not allowed to do it that way.
See, the problem with Celebrity is that everyone plays a little differently. And while I am normally amenable to other people's rules, I like to know the rules before I start the game. And apparently, when I think the rules are different than they actually are, I turn into a MONSTER.
Everyone else had taken their turn and they were flying - team one got 8 points, team two got 9. We're up and the pressure is on. I open the first slip of paper and read to myself:
"No passing!"
"But I thought we just said you could pass!!"
"And then we decided you couldn't."
"Where was I for that part of the conversation???"
OK. I can't pass. Fine. They let me pass on that one (which, in hindsight, was actually quite lenient of them...but I wasn't seeing it that way last night). I grab the next slip of paper and read:
The thing about celebrity is that usually, you say the same couple of hints a few times, each time more emphatically, people throw out a few guesses, and eventually, they hit the nail on the head. So I say(or rather, yell) , "Black comedian. Star of I Think I Love My Wife!"
She says, "Ooooh. Oooh. I know this one."
So I repeat, "BLACK COMEDIAN. Star of I Think I Love My Wife!!!!!"
She looks at me for something more...so I say, "Last name rhymes with Block!"
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOpe. You can't say sounds like. No rhymes with."
I think you could say that at this point I'm starting to get frustrated. I'm not saying the rules are wrong. But I hate that I keep breaking them. I hate that we haven't gotten a single point.
I choose another name, knowing I can't pass, knowing I can't say "sounds like" or "rhymes with..."
I show it to my husband, who is not on my team. I mean, in life he's on my team, but he's not on my Celebrity team. (ed note: author is tired hence making cheesy analogies.) He starts to laugh immediately. Hysterically and loud. My husband has one of those loud, infectious, contagious laughs. One of the things I love most about him. BUT NOT IN THIS MOMENT. I am convinced the fact that he is laughing so hard proves my point that Mindy Cohen is NOT a celebrity.
Before I can be any more of a sore sport (what an awful expression. but honestly, I can't think of anything better to call myself in this moment besides BAD LOSER which will be reserved for later in this post...) our time is up. We got 0. That's ZERO in case you weren't sure. I am pissed. It seems like everyone else had easy celebrities - superstars. Steve Carrell, Julia Roberts, Katherine Heigl. Meanwhile, we had Frankie Muniz and Mindy Cohen (who, by the way, was Natalie on Facts of Life, just in case you, like me, had NO FUCKING CLUE.)
We get into round 2 and the other teams are racking up the points...Barack Obama, Christina Aguilera, Oprah...then it comes to us. You have to love my partner who doesn't care that the rules say you can't pass...she just does it anyhow. About 10 papers come out of the bowl and she just throws them down and grabs another one. It's hysterical. Until she comes to one that she thinks she can give a clue for:
"Oooooh. Oh. The Hills! He's on the Hills."
That was it. That was the straw that broke this camel's back. Because - and I know some of you love this show and everyone is entitled to their own opinion...but I am adamantly against The Hills. I hate this crap. No - I've never seen more than five minutes of it...but I hate it nonetheless. I hate that these idiots are being called "celebrities" even though they have no talent and create drama in their lives and are now making millions of dollars and have clothing labels and record deals when there are seriously talented people out there working their asses off to make it. I hate that these are the people that teen girls in our country aspire to be like.
Wow. Who knew I was SO angry about The Hills? The point is...I DON'T KNOW HIM IF HE'S ON THE HILLS. Sadly, this is not entirely true. I would have to live under a rock not to be aware of these people named Heidi and Lauren and Spencer. But I definitely DO NOT know their last names. Which I would need to know if I were going to get a point for it in Celebrity.
Honestly, I don't know what happened next. Except that I turned into the POOREST of poor losers. If there was a club for poor losers, I would have been president. Our time ran out, we once again had zero points, and I was not having fun. I don't know what happened to me. I'm telling you - it was totally a Dr. Jekyll Mr. Hyde.
My husband tried to get me to laugh at myself, but to no avail. If I had been able to take a deep breath and burst out laughing as I am doing at this moment as I am writing this, everything would have been ok. If I could have seen that in that moment, I was giving Heidi and Spencer and Lauren a run for their money in the moron department, then it would have been pretty funny.
But I was stuck.
I retreated to the kitchen to "check on dessert" but really, it was to escape from the moment. I stood there having this out of body experience. It was like I was looking down on myself wondering who this insane person was, why she was behaving like a raving lunatic over a game of Celebrity. I knew in my head that I was being crrrrrrrrraaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaazzzzzzzzy, but I could NOT get myself out of it. I was embarrassed and didn't know how to go back and press rewind and make it all go away. Because seriously - I threw a CONNIPTION FIT. Over Celebrity.
And part of what was keeping me stuck was the fact that I felt I had a point. The rules hadn't been clearly laid out to begin with - we were playing with different sets of them. It seemed that at every turn, our team was being thrown a curve ball that the other teams had managed to avoid simply by pulling up the names of people that actually WERE celebrities. But honestly? WHO. REALLY. CARES. My point was pretty weak. Especially given that it pertained to a GAME. And it was definitely not worth taking a stand over.
I haven't really stopped thinking about last night. I hate that it happened. I hate that I behaved that way. In front of other people. I think I get stuck in this place more than I'd like. Rarely are my antics displayed in front of an entire room of guests. But often, I argue the point in my head to death. At times, I argue it - although in a calmer, more appropriate way - with other people. I get stubborn. I want others to see my point of view, all the while forgetting that they have one too. And that perhaps, if I'd just take a deep breath and a step back, then maybe I could see the big picture rather than just the small point that my view creates in it. Lately, I've been forced to let go of my point. And you know what? Things get easier when that happens. It's a huge relief. I'm not trying so hard to be seen and heard. I'm not fighting my point so much, but rather learning about someone else's perspective or perhaps just seeing things through different colored glasses. I've been slowly more and more aware that listening is a true art form and that my point really doesn't matter in the grand scheme of things. But with a simple game of Celebrity, it all went to hell.
Last night, the thing that I couldn't stop thinking about was why I couldn't laugh at myself. Why I couldn't forgive myself for doing something that was yes - sort of stupid- but really no big deal. Because everyone else was over it while I sat in the kitchen not forgiving myself and feeling embarrassed and having absolutely no ability to just let it go. A few years ago I probably would have let it ruin my night, in turn helping to make everyone else's evening less than stellar. But instead, I actually listened to my husband (who had been trying to help me see the light - or the laughter - so to speak...) and everything turned out OK. I came in and apologized for the person that had temporarily invaded my body, and we played a couple of rounds of Taboo before we ate some fabulous berry cobbler and vanilla ice cream. Even if it was a little late in the game (no pun intended), I still managed to pick myself up by the bootstraps and tell everyone inside that they could, indeed, make fun of me for that moment for the rest of our lives. And incidentally, while my account of this here sounds like it took about an hour, I was actually only out of the room for about 10 minutes before I saw the error of my ways.
The irony of it all is that the berry cobbler that got dropped on my white sofa didn't faze me at all. Nope. I was totally cool - got a Tide pen and a little water and said that a house that doesn't feel lived in is simply a house, not a home. And I meant it.
They say the first step is admitting you have a problem.
Posted byMeesh-elle my Belle at 3:45 PM 2 comments
Labels: life lessons, meltdowns, yeah...i'm a little bit crazy
Tom and Padma have me aghast
Thursday, June 5, 2008
Say it isn't so.
How is it possible that Lisa made it through AGAIN???? I know many of you have no idea that I'm talking about the bad attitude clad, mediocre contestant who made it into the top 3 in Top Chef last night. But I can't keep quiet about it any longer. I am totally baffled.
Sort of like brookem was yesterday when she read my blog. Due to the state of my groggy brain, I failed to mention the fact that, while there are many other places in the country that have buttons that pedestrians can push in order to request a walk signal, New York City does not. In New York, you walk when the sign tells you (or when a car isn't coming...). But then again, yesterday I talked about how many times I've been away in the pasta month. And this morning I im'd someone to "wait a sex."
It's been a long week. I will be happy when it's over. If Lisa freaking wins Top Chef, I might have to boycott. Just like I did after Jennifer Hudson got voted off Idol. Yeah. That lasted for the 6 days in between that episode of Idol and the next one.
Posted byMeesh-elle my Belle at 5:16 PM 3 comments
Labels: daily, things that get me riled up
Pasta Month?!?!?!?
Wednesday, June 4, 2008
I love when I go back and re-read my posts AFTER I post them and find that I write things like "in the pasta month". Pasta Month. Heh.
Posted byMeesh-elle my Belle at 2:51 PM 2 comments
Labels: random thoughts
crosswalks and other things
I feel like ass today, so why I'm choosing to blog is sort of a mystery to me...but I feel like I've been neglectful as of late. This is partially due to the number of papers I have had to write for my interior design class. I just finished my third. After I finish an 8-10 page paper, I can tell you that the last thing I want to do is write some more. It's also partially due to the fact that in the pasta month, I have been away for 3 out of 5 weekends. In fact, since 2008 started, I have been gone for at least one weekend a month, often two. Most of the time for fun...but also most of the time including flying back east. So while the fun is fun...the flying...starts to take it's toll.
I was in NYC last weekend. It was totally overstimulating between the reason I was there (my grandmother's unveiling), seeing "Sunday in the Park with George" (to which I need to devote a whole entire post...), seeing "Sex and the City" in New York City (to which I will need to devote yet another post), and how upset with myself I got every single time I got to a cross walk and looked for the button to push to change the sign to walk. (For those of you not aware, this does not exist in NYC. This only exists in LA. I am a NEW YORKER!!!! AAAAAARGH!) I'm sure the last of that list is what has my brain feeling as though it's swimming in a sea of sludge right now. I'm sure it has nothing to do with taking a redeye in on Friday night and a 7 AM flight back on Monday morning. I'm sure it has nothing to do with not wanting to miss anything or anyone - so spending time with friends and family and seeing theater and rarely sleeping and overthinking the 3000 miles away that I am while yet another one of my closest friends gives birth. No, it's entirely about the crosswalks.
But then, I guess it is about the crosswalks. The crosswalks are a function of the rest of it...aren't they? The crosswalks are the reason I don't get nearly enough time with the people I love. The crosswalks are the reason that I'm not there for the babies. The crosswalks are the reason that I have more frequent flier miles than any person not flying for business should have.
Happy Wednesday. Let's hope that tomorrow my brain makes it way out of the sludge.
Posted byMeesh-elle my Belle at 12:27 PM 1 comments
Labels: daily, LA rant, NYC, travels
