A sore throat and a runny nose woke me up at 10 am. So I did laundry and ran errands and helped a friend in TriBeCa. Not surprisingly, the hour-long walk back from TriBeCa didn’t help my cold. So I pulled up this ingredient list photo (from my beloved Meat Free Monday Cookbook)
and pulled into Union Market before coming home.
You can’t tell from this photo, but the Gorgonzola sauce is so creamy and delicious:
Highly recommended, this one. Just gently heat all the sauce ingredients together, toss the steamed broccoli and pasta in with the sauce, and top with the capers, hazelnuts, and olives.
I finally have a signature cocktail. Finally.
I just added my favorite flavors (mint and ginger) to my favorite cocktail (Jim Beam and Mexican coke), et voila:
I can’t bear to google it to see if it’s already someone else’s cocktail … So I’m just not gonna do that.
And I’ll call it The Lai Lai because it basically is me, right? Southern ish (bourbon) and sweet ish (cola) with not-so-obvious Asian roots (ginger) and a refreshing somethin somethin (mint). A stretch? Maybe.
I also replaced my shower head and installed a tension rod in my closet for hanging what seems like a million coats. Really ending 2012 with a bang here!
Oh wow. How thrilling is that? …
For Meg’s second annual cookie exchange, I had to make something brilliant. So I turned to my favorite childhood recipe – spritz cookies!
You just need a Wilton cookie press and can follow the recipe on the box. I grew up with this one:
Cream together 1.5 c butter, 1 c sugar, 1 egg, 2 T milk, 1 tsp vanilla, and 1/2 tsp almond extract.
Gradually stir in 4 c flour and 1 tsp baking powder.
Bake at 400F for 4-7 minutes.
It’s always sad to throw out the sprinkles graveyard:
Another new spot is opening near me, which is maybe the 6th place to open within a 2-block radius this year. Winning.
I checked it out last night for a sneak peek of the cocktail and bites menu, and I’m so excited for it to open so that I can go there all the time.
It’s called The Third Man and is being opened by the same guys – Edi and Wolfgang (they’re so adorbs) – that own Edi & the Wolf.
Check out the photos in the Thrillist link above. I felt badly taking too many of my own photos because it’s slightly hush hush for now and not quite finished. (Some poor guy wandered into the bar during our media preview, thinking the place was open, and I thought the PR lady who intercepted him might eat him alive.)
The bartender Rosser is a little dandyish but oh so sweet. If you plan to go alone, I’m sure he’ll take care of you (with shots of his pricey El Buho Mezcal).
I’ve been wanting to make avgolemono from This is a Cookbook since I sampled it when Eli made it for us at the Williams-Sonoma product launch.
But a single girl who lives and eats alone has no business making soup for 8. So I made a bootleg version:
I brought 5-6 cups of chicken broth to a boil, added 3/4 cups white rice, turned it down to a simmer and let the rice cook for 18 minutes. Then I added shredded chicken (from a rotisserie bird) and cut the heat. I added ladlefuls of stock to a couple egg yolks to temper them, then stirred the mixture into the soup, and finally I stirred in the juice of two lemons. And done!
It’s nice with a glass of crisp Viognier and an arugula salad finished with olive oil, Maldon salt, and some warm homemade herbes-de-provence croutons.
Since when do I cover food events? Since I started working here:
It warmed my heart being surrounded by 70 other people quibbling over how to pronounce “Achatz,” and whether the quail eggs were really eggs, and whether the NYT review of Guy’s new tourist trap was fair. Ah. My people.
The food – all prepared from recipes in the new cookbook 4-Hour Chef – was also pretty, pretty good (and you know I love a good wine-paired, multi-course meal). I had a beautiful photographer taking better pics that will be on the website tomorrow. But for now, since I can’t sleep (the Intelligentsia coffee at 11:15pm was probably not a good idea, but I couldn’t pass up a course! or the coffee I love!), tonight’s meal for your eyes only:
Dinner parties until 11:30pm and then writing until 1am are especially exhausting on a workday that began with missing two trains due to crowding. I had to squeeze onto the third, also-crowded train that came, and I was 20 minutes late to work instead of 20 minutes early.
I used colored pencils to brighten up late-night reporting:
If I can’t sleep because I had to drink coffee at a work-related event I was assigned to report, should I be able to bill overtime? Or … Should I be able to bill overtime in general? Probably.
The ladies turned Ladies Talde Dinner into a Happy Birthday, Alainna dinner. And I have to say, it doesn’t get much better than the pretzel dumplings, pork sausage Hawaiian roll slider thingies, shrimp fried rice (with lots of moist egg and crunchy bean sprouts), and wok-sauteed Brussels sprouts covered in sambal – all in one night. The pork entree, kale salad, and soba noodles were quite yummy, too, but … I could park myself at a table covered in pretzel dumplings and die happy. As long as Monika and Brekke are there.
They even serenaded me at the table with their own rendition of “Happy Birthday to You”: “Suck a big fucking dick, suck a big fucking dick. Suck a big fucking diiiii-ick. Suck a big fucking dick.” Yup. Right in the middle of the restaurant.
I can’t even tell you how happy nights like tonight make me. Well, I guess I just did. Oh. I also have hot water back. Thank the Lord!
What do you get when you combine one evening walk through Times Square (since it’s all that separates your new office building from your old office building and friend):
with one amazing Japanese speakeasy (with to-die-for sashimi):
with one Beardo (along with another, not-pictured, bearded, lady friend who made herself a gnome beard out of cotton balls):
with hookah (photo courtesy of some dude whose last name rhymes with Bonsevik):
? One hell of a New York moment/night, that’s what.
A homeless man hissed at me like a cat yesterday, btw. I didn’t startle, so he stared me down for quite a long while. It was uncomfortable. He smelled like a port-a-potty.
And my knee still hurts like a bitch. Did I mention my knee? It was my third day at NYT: Friday. And on my way to work in the morning, I was crossing 2nd Ave in a deluge. I had to hold my umbrella up extra high so that the bus driver, who was sitting at a changing light, would see me way down on the road and decide not to accelerate too early and, you know, run me over. Then I ate shit. Well, really, I took a knee. And said (right) knee now has a huge bruise and off-putting scab to prove it. It hurts. My pride should hurt even more, especially since I spent the entire day in leggings with a huge hole over the knee, but for some reason it’s the physical pain that gets me. I even introduced myself to the editor of the entire NYT with my blood-stained knee injury on Friday. It looks much worse now, but at the time it was just like a little baby thing:
And so if anyone has any extra pain killers, I’m in the market. I could have used one when walking up and down a million subway stairs to get from the NYT building to the crosstown S to the uptown 6 today on my way to meet a princess. (Seriously! I met a princess today!)
The Meatball Shop recipe for balls and spaghetti sauce is still a winner:
If you don’t want to buy the cookbook, you can find the recipe for these beef meatballs and their tomato sauce online. (But the cookbook is amazing. I recommend buying it.) Just be sure to add plenty of salt and, if you want, sugar (like me) at the end of the sauce cooking process. xo
I was so nervous to finally meet Charlotte Druckman, the food writer-cum-friend-cum-mentor with whom I’ve developed an email love affair over the past two years. And what better venue to finally lock eyes with her (she’s beautiful!) than NYDC, run by her adorable father (now, I have met him a few times), for her very own book party?! She actually got up from the table to squeeze me, and I got teary eyed while she signed my copy:
(Her proud papa signed it, too, obviously.)
I love her even more now. And if you need me the next few days, I’m busy devouring Skirt Steak.
Also, can I just say, I have never been so happy at a book party. Not just because it was Charlotte’s, but because I had the most amazing OFF DUTY foodies around me at all times: Ruth Altchek, Lauren Mechling, Beth Kracklauer, Sarah Karnasiewicz, Kitty Greenwald, and Kelly Guerotto. Add the super eager wine-refilling man and the lot of handsome guests to the list, and you’ve got yourself one good reason to ditch the pajamas for a Wednesday night out.