Okay, yes, I’m on a roll with this afternoon tea thing. (You know this already if you read my last two posts, which if you did not read you are a slacker. Click here or here to catch up.) But let’s face it. It’s hotter than hell in L.A. right now, which precludes the enjoyment of hot tea at 4 o’clock (and gives us something to bitch about).
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As I write this, it is August,, but it seems like summer’ has not begun. This is partly because in California, where I live, there is no summer really until everyone else has finished theirs; our big heat kicks in in September. Yes, we are all screwed up: no winter, no spring unless you count June, and summer in the fall. Read More
I’m blown away by the NYTimes story
about the woman who has written down everything she’s made for dinner for the last fourteen years.I can’t help but imagine what my own dinner journal would look like, had I undertaken such a project. Read More
We were maybe going to go out for dinner last night (for a big fat change), but my husband was suddenly gripped by a summer virus. (Why does this always happen the minute I make a reservation?) So I was back to spelunking in the fridge for dinner possibilities.
I stumbled across the remains of a turkey loaf, which had been delicious on Wednesday. It was now Sunday, and, not being as well-acquainted with the breeding habits of bacteria as I should be, I wasn’t sure if the loaf was trustworthy. I gave it the scratch ‘n sniff test and then, still uncertain, I ate a bite, figuring I’d take a bullet for my family. If I dropped dead from bacterial poisoning, I would most likely not be serving them the turkey loaf. I’d make pasta instead. (My family does not accept death as an excuse for not cooking.) Read More
I love the Hollywood Bowl, but I love it for the wrong reason.
I don’t love it because it’s a beautiful outdoor venue where you (and nearly 18,000 other patrons) can sit under the stars and hear the L.A. Philharmonic or Beck while crickets chirp and you dine on picnic food.
I love it because, thanks to the Hollywood Bowl dining tradition, many takeout places and restaurants in L.A. offer picnic baskets to go, all summer long. For those of us who are honing our cooking-avoidance skills, this is fabulous.
My friend Amy had introduced me to Kee’s chocolates in Soho, and during a recent visit to NYC I took my daughter there. I felt it was my parental duty; all children should be exposed to the wonder of Kee’s. Maybe higher on the list than the Statue of Liberty. Certainly above The Lion King.
In the tiny shop was a person who has now assumed a place in our personal history: The Man In The Orange T-shirt, our sweet tooth superhero. Within five minutes of our entry, he’d laid out for us a list of the essential sugar-craver’s hot spots in NYC, starting, of course with Kee’s, which he said was the best chocolate in the world. (“Not in New York, in the world!”) Having thus established his credibility, he went on to direct us to the best ice cream (Sundaes and Cones), cupcakes (Butter Lane), and cake (Lady M). Read More
We ate it. Everybody, even the picky people in my family (i.e. everyone) loved it, which makes it a Miracle Food. After all the days of prepping (click for details of Day 1, Day 2 or Day 3), this was an excellent result. My friend Jeffery had told me that if the lasagna verde at L.A.’s Angelini Osteria is the Gelsey Kirkland of lasagna, his is the “‘57 Buick, or at least the Ethel Merman.” Okay, so not lighter than air, but it satisfies. Read More
When people ask me for advice on cooking (this rarely happens except in my imagination), I usually begin my response by saying, “Don’t ever make lasagne. You know the Spanish Steps in Rome? Well, lasagne has more steps than that.” So I was immediately attracted to an article my friend Suzanne sent me about a restaurant that serves lasagne with 100 layers. I have to recline in the Baracalounger just thinking about this.
Mark Ladner is the chef at Del Posto restaurant in New York, where he says it takes three “departments” to create the lasagne (which sells for $30 a serving). One group makes the three sauces (yep, three, trois, a full trio) that go into the dish, one makes the giant sheets of pasta (I have no idea how this happens so don’t ask me) and one assembles it all in a giant baking pan. So, Ladner does have help. No wonder I find lasagne challenging. The only extra “department” besides myself I ever had in my kitchen was the fire department, that time I forgot I was broiling garlic bread.
The Japanese, apparently bored with watermelon’s traditional shape, have gone and invented a square one. Using a pretty obvious technique (you grow ‘em in square containers), they’ve created a charming cube-shaped melon that will set you back about $75. I know what you’re thinking: what idiot would pay that for a fruit? But the square melon does have its advantages. For one thing, t won’t roll around in the back seat of your car, like an oblong one does, escaping fom the grocery bag, crashing around, crushing the eggs and the strawberries in its path. (I admit that I have cursed out a few roller-melons.) Read More
I know it’s Easter and we’re supposed to be eating marshmallow Peeps but instead, I’m treating myself to another sweet thing: Jo’s chocolate-covered graham crackers. Jo’s been making them since the forties, in your choice of dark or milk chocolate. I buy a mixed box, because Tom likes dark and I like milk The dark are gone in sixty seconds, while I tend to hoard the milk, saving them for special occasions, like Easter, when, what with the girls gone to college and my aversion to marshmallow sprayed with yellow dye #6, I see no good reason to purchase Peeps. Read More