The Reluctant Diva

a little angry letter

2009-01-21T19:03:00.000-05:00

I want to scream, cry, tear at the fabric, bite the flesh that hurts me. I am fighting blind against enemies unknown, but familiar and all around me.

How is it that I feel so out of contol? Why is this feeling strangely familiar?

Not being told the things I should know. Being made a competitor in a game I don't want to play. No, your life is not harder than mine. No, the reason why I can manage to live day by day is not because I am privileged or lazy. I have no demons to play with. And that drives you fucking nuts.

I've had a hard day today, and the difference between me and you is that I wrote this little angry letter. And you? You just throw it all away. Soon there will be no one left to listen to you.

He's pumped! I'm pumped! We're pumped!

2008-08-15T16:14:00.004-04:00

Go Rafa, go Rafa, it's your birthday, you're going to be No. 1, hopefully get the GOLD, go Rafa!

Looooooooooooooove him!

Time Passes

2008-06-28T18:54:00.004-04:00

Time is so short
and I’m sure
There must be something
more -

- Coldplay

When I turned 10, I was visiting Israel for the first time since I moved there, left there.... My grandmother bought me a yellow shirt and skirt set. The skirt was ruffled and the outfit had little black polka dots. I thought it was the best thing ever, and I remember thinking, even then, what an amazing thing she did, a woman over 70, going into a neighborhood boutique, buying this outfit for her youngest granddaughter. It must have been expensive, but I was 10. How did I know about things like that? I still think of her often. Thinking of that summer and seeing her face clearly hurts like hell. I can't believe how much I miss her. Why didn't I tell her I loved her more?

When I turned 20, I was psychotic. I broke up with my boyfriend of more than a year -- an eternity when I was 20 -- and I was on Paxil and smoking cloves -- and basically I wasn't me. I sorted myself out pretty quickly after that. I came to the realization that I wasn't a baby anymore. How destructive I could be. My footprint on life, on others, was firmly planted, and no matter how I tried to un-do things, they couldn't be undone.

I'm turning 30 in just over a week from now. Who knows what the day will entail, what I will be feeling, who I will be missing or pissing off... I'm not really excited about turning 30. Part of me doesn't want to be an adult, ever! But a lot of me wants to change, to fit into my skin. To like people again and not be so afraid of them. To like cleaning floors. To be a mother. To be a really great wife. To go to a Coldplay concert. Life doesn't end at 30, I know. Life continues.

Yay, California!

2008-06-17T17:26:00.003-04:00

Picture courtesy of NY Times -- Photo: Monica Almeida

Little Blue Flower: Preface

2008-06-10T21:45:00.003-04:00

Exile -- Ellen Bryant Voigt

The widow refuses sleep, for sleep pretends
that it can bring him back.
In this way,
the will is set against the appetite.
Even the empty hand moves to the mouth.
Apart from you, I turn a corner in the city and find,
for a moment, the old climate, the little blue flower everywhere.

Clarity

2008-05-29T17:06:00.001-04:00

"The will to blog is a complicated thing, somewhere between inspiration and compulsion. It can feel almost like a biological impulse. You see something, or an idea occurs to you, and you have to share it with the Internet as soon as possible. What I didn’t realize was that those ideas and that urgency — and the sense of self-importance that made me think anyone would be interested in hearing what went on in my head — could just disappear." -- Emily Gould

WHATEV!

2008-05-28T15:48:00.006-04:00

Uploaded on Flickr on May 21, 2007 by Slice

I would love to jump on the bandwagon and proclaim like everyone else that the best pizza in the world is Brooklyn's own Di Fara, which is a stone throw's away from where I grew up, in my old neighborhood of Midwood.

But I can't. After 20 years of of refusing to step foot into the pizzeria again (a bad experience with an extra cheese slice which led me to see my pizza slice in reverse), I finally decided to give in to the madness and go there for a Friday night meal with most of my familia. (Rafa, sis, Roman, Liam and Mia.) Roman is adamant that this is the BEST PIZZA EVER! Well I have to say to Roman, and to everyone else that thinks the same way, WHATEV!!!

This pizza is NOT the best pizza ever. It's not even close to being the best OK pizza ever. It's gross! The pie is too salty with parmesan cheese, too oily with all that olive oil smeared on the top, too much trouble to bother with having to wait close to an hour and a half for a pie. I'll say it again, I DON'T GET IT! There are so many amazing Brooklyn joints for pizza; why single this one out, especially when it's not even that good. Ah, I give up!

Four Dresses and a Wedding

2008-05-14T16:53:00.006-04:00

Rafa and I are forces to be reckoned with whenever we enter a shopping mall. The other day, we entered the Jersey Gardens outlet mall with every intention of buying one (1) dress for myself and one (1) white dress shirt for him. It's for my cousin's daughter's wedding that we are attending next month.

I came out with four dresses, not all for the wedding mind you (I'm not going to do wardrobe changes a la Madonna circa Blonde Ambition Tour), and Rafa came out with said dress shirt, plus a $45 tie from Brooks Brothers. Oh, my gorgeous metrosexual. He also got a Ben Sherman wallet, a Ben Sherman newsboy cap (my little Brad Pitt!), and loads of other things he didn't need... but I really didn't need three out of the four dresses either, but they are fabulous!

Dress 1:

BCBG Max Azria -- kind of gypsy-ish meets bohemian sexy number with a 'scarf'?? I believe a 'scarf' is what the crazy kids are calling that flap of fabric that kind of flaps around -- erm, Rafa thought it distracting. I thought it fabulous. BTW, THIS is the dress for the wedding. Here's an Ebay pic of the same dress. NB: It's priced over $200 on Ebay and in retail. I got it for $60. Yeah!

Dress 2:

Bebe Outlet -- kind of crochet sweater dress with short sleeves - funky turquoise which I don't usually do, but why not?! It has pockets too at the bottom, which I just love. In the fitting room, it didn't seem see-through, but now logic proves since the friggin' dress is actually entirely knitted, it is indeed see-through. I wore it to work today, but was very discreet in my underthings. ;) At least the holes in the dress will be good for those hot summer days. LOL. Here's another Ebay pic - FYI, I do not look like a hoochie mama like this woman does.. sheesh! Push-up bra much?! The seller on Ebay is selling it for a starting bid of $60. I got the dress for $20 at Bebe itself. Yeah x2!

Dress 3:

I'm really excited about this one. I think the brand is Velvet Torch, which I haven't heard of before, but for $20, I'm not one to complain. It's a double V neck dress! Fabulous. It covers up the parts you don't want people seeing, and emphasizes the ones you don't mind people seeing. I got mine in black, but here are similar pics of the back and front. I don't believe mine has a tie at the back, but I'm blanking now.

Dress 4:

This is a simple summer dress from Abercrombie & Fitch. It was an impulse purchase because it's A&F and it was only $20. I have a thing about Abercrombie. When I was a teenager, it was the coolest brand to wear. Of course, not having my own money, I could never afford it. I remember going to a store, though, once, and finding a really marked down white peasant shirt. I loved it. I wore it all the time knowing I'M wearing Abercrombie & Fitch. A&F is still kind of costly, but you could get really good deals at an oulet. The dress I got is similar to the below, but it was blue... Very soft cotton. The dress I will probably be wearing the most this summer. The kind that looks great at work and equally great at Sunday brunch 'in the city'. :) Sort of like my pink madras shoes.

Would you pass the baby, please?

2008-05-13T12:43:00.006-04:00

There is a strange phenomenon that occurs each time a new baby comes into the world and my small family surrounds him or her. The baby becomes totally inaccessible. And it's not so much with my side of the family -- hint, hint -- but I literally get two seconds to look at Mia before someone snatches her up, and it's bye, bye baby.

Mia is just over two weeks old now.. and I have literally seen her, awake, maybe once or twice. I tried to spend some one-on-one time with her the other day after I got back from being out of town for work, but Mia, alas, was sleeping. And then the two minutes she was awake, my sister's friend took her in her arms, so that was that.

I just don't get it! I feel a certain right to have access to the baby the most because she is my sister's baby. My sister is my blood, Mia is my sister's blood. I don't think I've ever accepted the fact that I'm married and my sister is married and we have to be content with all the other people that have come into our lives and disrupted our perfect world. Get the f*** away from my niece, please. I have never said it. But I'd love to say it.

It's hard to get to know babies. That is my conclusion. They sleep, they nurse, they poop, they don't really look you in the eye. Unless you're a boob capable of giving them milk, they pretty much don't care that you exist. But I'm willing to live with that. Liam used to be like that, and now we're BFFs. Well, he's my BFF. Not so sure if he feels the same way. The other day he blurted out that I was like my mom, which is, by the way, the biggest compliment I could get from him because he ADORES her, and I am also the undefeated Lego champion in his eyes, but he has his moments too where he couldn't give a f*** that I am there, and I'm cool with that too.

I guess I'm experiencing the bridesmaid thing -- always an aunt, never a mother. But my time will come, and when it does, I could be really REALLY selfish of keeping the baby all to myself. And that's my deep thought for the day.

Yup -- this moment lasted two seconds...

Liam obviously takes after me in the appreciation of food sense -- go, pizza, go!

Mia

2008-04-27T09:23:00.005-04:00

Deep in my heart, there's no room for crying
but I'm trying to see your point of view
Deep in my heart, I'm afraid of dying
I'd be lying if I said I'm not

Welcome in, welcome in
Shame about the weather
Welcome in, welcome in
You will come
It's a sin, it's a sin,
We're birds of a feather, are welcome to, land on you

Ya Ya Ya
Ya Ya Ya
You've got my eyes
We can see, what you'll be, you can't disguise
And either way, I will pray, you will be wise
Pretty soon you will see the tears in my eyes..

My niece, Mia, was born yesterday morning. A feeling of relief and utter joy erupted inside me - she was finally here. I could finally look into her eyes and say, 'Mia'. Of course, all the family gathered into a small visitor's lounge brought on the usual chaos, but I was still able to steal a couple of moments away with my girl. The doting grandmothers' and know-it-all aunt's consensus was that Mia had my lips, and my eyes. Who am I to argue with them?! :) I looked over at my sister, tired in her eyes, and you could see each painful burst of contraction she felt in the way she squinted her eyes and gritted her teeth - I told her, you did all the work, I get all the credit. Truth be told, Mia will probably not end up looking like me, but it's nice to see that a part of me, a part of our family, is now breathing, sighing, yawning, crying. I love her. Liam was very curious about his new sister - and said, in his now flawless English - 'this is MY sister'. The emotion quickly came back to me, I had to hold back tears, I looked at my sister, gave her a knowing look amid all the chaos, as if to say to her, 'yeah, you did a great thing'. Welcome in, Mia.

Thinkin' Pink!

2008-03-26T23:11:00.006-04:00

Spring is in.... Time to wear pink again. I have to say I'm a girlie girl because I just love pastel and Spring happy colors. Bring it on.

Just this week I made two Spring purchases I am extremely pleased with... and I paid tribute to my gods of Target and H&M.

My first purchase is some Madras pink flats from Target. And they were under $12.

I've discovered that places like Target and Payless Shoe Source totally allow me to stay with the fashion but without spending a bazillion dollars. And I LOVE them... I've already worn them to work to coordinate with my salmon pink linen button down shirt that I wore with a black woven tank top cum vest!

And today the weather was definitely cooperating, and I wore my new favorite purchase (oh how fickle I am!), an A-line pink and hot pink linen skirt from H&M. I've discovered they work really well with black leggings...

I'm a bit of a flats nut at the moment. I wish I could go to Payless and BOGO till my heart's content, but alas, even really cheap retail has its limits.

Think pink, ladies. Think pink!

The Copper Chef

2008-03-26T15:08:00.006-04:00

I came across an interesting and funny, if not bizarre, article in the New York Times today. A writer had challenged himself, and as it looks like some top chefs too, to cook only using ingredients from New York's 99-cent stores. One awesome 99-cent store mentioned in the article is Jack's, which I only recently discovered myself on a lunchtime walk with my co-workers. It is huge, and quite surprisingly, actually has food too - canned and refrigerated. If I lived nearby, I'd definitely shop there for quick dinners. But, although I was quite impressed with the writer's ability to work with these ingredients, I think I may make similar meals only not using so much processed stuff, opting for fresh where I could get it.

The article follows below and the links to the top chef recipes are here, here and here.

March 26, 2008

How to Survive in New York on 99 Cents
By HENRY ALFORD

I LOVE shopping at my local Gourmet Garage as much as the next guy. But sometimes I plop a can of chicken broth down on the checkout counter and think, “$2.19? For someone to boil chicken bones? I want that job.”

So when I heard that the food you can buy at 99-cent stores is more diverse than you might imagine, I decided to conduct an experiment. I’d make dinner every night for a week using mostly ingredients bought at these stores and then, on the eighth night — once I’d gotten my game down — I’d prepare a meal for friends made only from ingredients bought at 99-cent stores.

There are 99-cent stores, and then there is Jack’s. It’s Closeout Central, an off-brand oasis. Located at 110 West 32nd Street, near Herald Square, with satellite stores at 16 East 40th Street and 45 West 45th Street, Jack’s has not only lots of freezer cases and five or more aisles full of food, but also an upstairs gourmet section with more upscale items — Buitoni and Bertagni prepared pastas, Lindt and Ferrero chocolates, Hero jams — at prices ranging from about $1.99 to $4.99.

Making Jack’s my base of operations, I started with both the 99-cent and gourmet offerings.
I quickly met with my first surprise. Though there’s a constancy to the food items for which 99-cent stores are famous — pasta, rice, nuts, cookies and candy — other items sometimes ebb and flow.

Because the main Jack’s store can have an unpredictable inventory — yesterday’s huge display of Progresso soup is today’s much-smaller hillock of marinated mushrooms is tomorrow’s sad heap of slightly battered boxes of Royal gelatin — shopping there is a return to the improvisatory cooking of yore, when people made dinner with whatever was in the market.

The Tuscans have a saying, “Icché c’è c’è,” meaning, “What you see is what we have.” Only here, of course, your deity is not seasonality, it’s availability. Your seat, their pants: get to know them.

My first few meals mined the wealth of Jack’s staples. I made rice and beans one night, which we zested up with 99-cent canned jalapeños and sofrito (like enchilada sauce, with a slight burned taste); another night we had penne with cream and some pancetta I found in the gourmet section. Another night, after amassing some brown rice and cans of bamboo shoots, water chestnuts and baby corn at Jack’s, I bought some Chinese broccoli off-site for a big stir-fry. For dessert each night we turned to the slightly wanton charms of the Little Debbie product line, particularly young Debbie’s Oatmeal Creme Pies, whose velvety filling so perfectly captures an imagined marriage between buttercream frosting and Noxzema.

Whenever I hit an obstacle — Jack’s, like almost all 99-cent stores, has no butter, no good olive oil, no flour, very limited cheese and no fresh vegetables — I either supplemented with Gourmet Garage items, or got busy.

What kind of busy? I used frozen broccoli from Jack’s to make cream of broccoli soup (pretty good), frozen peas for pea soup (excellent), and a soybean oil-butter blend called Admiration to make soufflé (awful).

I trod more carefully when it came to meat — though the $4.99 Al Fresco chicken sausage that I tossed with some peas and farfalle one night was fine, I found myself neatly dodging the 99-cent ham cubes and the frozen fillets of tilapia and salmon, subconsciously putting them on my list of things I want to pay full freight for (surgery, sushi).

One day I grabbed some 99-cent Oscar Meyer sliced chicken breast, though, and served it with Inglehoffer horseradish mustard and some pumpernickel for a tasty $2.97 light meal, with leftovers. If I could make three sandwiches for what it usually costs me to buy half of one at a deli, then my investment was paying off at a rate of 600 percent. Sandwiches: the next stock market bubble.

Did I ever encounter spoiled food, or alarming sell-by dates? No. Other than some slightly leaden pumpkin ravioli from Jack’s gourmet section — it had the sludgy, earwax-like quality of something that had been unfrozen and then frozen again — the only bump on the road was the aroma emanating from the black plastic bags that Jack’s and other 99-cent stores use: they smell alternately like an electrical fire or a fish in transition.
(Ira Steinberg, vice president of merchandise and head of operations for Jack’s, said: “They’re made of recycled products. They may carry a smoky odor.”)

As my dinner for friends approached, I was feeling my nerves. Eager to test my true mettle, I’d decided that the ingredients would have to be exclusively 99 cents or less — the gourmet section had dulled my skinflint edge. So I cast my eye across the 99-cent world to see what other delicious treasures lay out there.

Over the course of three days, I visited 21 more 99-cent stores in Manhattan, including 12 in Harlem and Washington Heights, 4 in Chinatown and 1 in Spanish Harlem. Though this Marco Polo unearthed some delightful surprises at his price point — star anise, cinnamon sticks, capers, pecans, white balsamic vinegar — I fell hardest for Goya’s delicate dulce de leche wafers and their golden, slightly salty caramel filling. I have shown Little Debbie the door; Dulce’s my girl now.

The four friends I served dinner to included two who had shopped for food at 99-cent stores and two who had not. Guests were met with an antipasto tray — pepperoncini, olives, artichoke hearts, crackers, very greasy salami and a hockey puck of Brie that I had softened by baking.

Disparate nibbling yielded several polite, neutral comments. My guests stared off into the mid-distance as if in the throes of Art Appreciation. But the compliments started flying when I served my chilled pear soup — nothing more than a mixture of Goya and Kern’s pear nectars that I served in beautiful Chinese bowls with star anise floating on top. (Mark: “I feel like I’m at a chic restaurant.” Heather: “I’ve cleaned my bowl.”)

Our entree of penne with peas and turkey bacon in a light cream sauce gave way to much conversation about frozen peas. I explained that food luminaries like Marcella Hazan and the Silver Palate women approve of them. Heather told us how she had used bags of frozen peas to help soothe her mother after her hip replacement surgery.

The flourless pecan torte that I served for dessert met with approval, but nothing like the semiriotous adulation inspired by my subsequent offering of a 3.5-oz. Toblerone bar. (Scott: “Wow!” Heather: “Nice!” Greg: “Airport candy!”)

What has been my experiment’s legacy?

I will continue to serve my “pear soup.” I will continue to worship at the altar of Goya’s dulce de leche wafers. I will continue to make my pea soup using frozen peas, particularly as the recipe I devised is so wonderfully easy. (Slice and sauté an onion. Add 3 cups chicken stock, a 1-pound bag of frozen peas, 1/3 cup oats, 1/8 teaspoon cardamom, some salt and pepper. Bring to boil. Purée in blender.)

But more important, I will continue to look for incredible value. As I’m sure the folks at Jack’s know, bargain-hunting can be addictive.

Consider the Web site for the national chain 99¢ Only Store, which proudly displays an Andreas Gursky photograph of endless rows of candy and canned goods called “99 Cents,” taken at a franchise in Hollywood. The Web site informs us, “This photograph recently sold for over $1,999,999!”

One man’s penny is another man’s dollar.

Three Spanish Popsicles and me: Part 2

2008-02-02T12:40:00.000-05:00

I'm so sorry for the delay in between Washington DC posts. I guess I have run out of steam these last few weeks. I am at work all day, and by the time I get home, all I want to do is sit in front of the TV and go into a daze. Weekends are pretty much spent curled up on the couch, watching B movies from the 80s. My computer hasn't been feeling well for a while so not much Internet surfing for me (which is a relief to my credit card!), I can't be arsed lately to look up recipes in cookbooks; I can't even bring myself to watch the Food Network because I know I'll start salivating at the food, realize I have nothing to make in the fridge, and then have to be forced to go out and buy groceries.

So, I'll elaborate on my path of self-destruction another time..

Back to DC. The first evening we spent there, we weren't really sure where to go to have dinner. And did I mention it was FUCKING COLD. We didn't want to walk around aimlessly. We needed a plan. On the map the hotel gave us were some restaurant suggestions; capital! One of them was a tapas place called La Tasca. The name has special meaning to me and Rafa. It is the name of a Spanish restaurant we used to frequent quite a lot in Liverpool, and where I discovered I had an unhealthy obsession with chicken croquettes. We thought it was funny that there was another Spanish restaurant of the same name across the pond in DC.

So, we went there... And it was the same La Tasca!

It turns out that the franchise has a few locations in the US. Yay! Another reason to go back to DC! We were there on a Wednesday, and lucky for us, Wednesday was all-you-can-eat-tapas day! So, for a set price to each guest, we could order as many types of tapas as we wanted. Until we literally bust a gut. And we did... bust a gut, I mean. I had about ten chicken croquettes, gambas al ajillo up the wazoo. I ate so much food that night I'm actually sick now remembering it. I think my body somehow knew that in the next few days I wouldn't be able to taste food at all, because I was making up for it all that night. It was lovely to be in the restaurant; it felt somehow familiar in a place I wasn't familiar with at all.

I learned something about myself when it comes to sharing food. I am extremely greedy. Usually it's me and Rafa, and we get our own thing. And even if we go out with my family as a group, we get a few appetizers to share but the main course is all mine. But if I'm in a group just ordering small appetizers or tapas, I literally want it all to myself. I run into a panic where I think I will still be hungry. What is it about small portions that makes us all the more greedy?I think the whole world needs to move to the Mediterranean or southern Europe to learn how it's done.

Washington DC: Where I got some peace and where I got a bitchin' (and not in a good way) cold!: Part 1

2008-01-18T17:06:00.000-05:00

After about 10 days of non-stop touring in New York, I was going bonkers. Huge crowds and lots of noise is OK in small increments, but New York around the holiday season is completely and totally insane. Even walking across the Brooklyn Bridge turned out to be crowded!

Rafa had time off after New Year's and we all went to Washington DC for a few days. I wasn't really looking forward to it that much, to tell the truth, because at that point, all I wanted was to just relax at home, even for a little while. But, I don't really get many opportunities to see 'our nation's capital' - I've obviously seen too much of Forrest Gump. And most importantly, Paki and Kike have never been to DC, so it would really have been a waste if we couldn't use this extra time to explore another city.

Being in DC was surreal. It was actually quiet. And it wasn't all about sell sell sell and commercialism. Just a lot of historical buildings and a lot of walking. It felt nice to be able to actually hear my own footsteps. But somehow the silence was eerie too. I am so used to having to shove my way down the street, it felt odd to walk and not have people bumping into me.

And DC felt soul-less. Maybe it was because there weren't many people around, or maybe because we weren't in an area where there would be a lot of people walking around. But something about the city felt empty. Which goes to show that not all big cities are the same. I could feel totally at home in crazy New York, and totally not-at-home in quiet DC.

But the only real downfall of the trip is that it was SO FUCKING COLD! We were there a couple of days after New Year's Day when the temperature took a major dip on the Eastern seaboard. I am not exaggerating when I say it was cold. Oh My God! Even with many layers and so many hats, hoods, gloves, and scarves on, so much so that I looked like a yeti for most of our trip, I still managed to get really sick, and the last 36 hours of our trip were just a muffled, drugged, fuzzy blur. It really REALLY sucks to be on vacation and visiting a new city while being sick. Maybe that is why DC didn't make a big impression on me. I didn't feel like myself at all - I felt like my body was completely disconnected from my head. And toward the end of the trip, it was pure adrenaline that was seeing me through.

Quite surprisingly, though, I found the energy to actually go ice skating. There was a small rink in the sculpture garden just opposite the National Archives.
And maybe it was because I was completely drugged and delusional, but I totally rocked the ice skates. Of course, at first, I was scared shitless because the ice was just cleaned and it was super slippery. But then, as I got my groove on, I was really gliding down the ice. For the first time in my life, I was actually elegant. LOL. But of course, I could only keep it up for an hour or so. It was SO FUCKING COLD, and I was so tired and worn out... but it was fun. And skating was definitely on our 'to do' list while our guests were visiting. So that was good.

So my DC wrap-up is that it was quiet. I get that the buildings were beautiful and historical, but politics and government is really boring! No wonder it was my worst subject in high school. And we went to an assembly of the House of Representatives, and they literally stood around for 10 minutes talking to each other in private conversations, then we all had to stand up and do the Pledge of Allegiance and then a chaplain spoke (how inappropriate??!, whatever happened to separation of Church and State??!), and then they asked the person in charge if they could be adjourned, and then they adjourned. I rocked the ice skating. I ate pretty well (in my next post). I got a massive cold I haven't even gotten over yet and it's been over two weeks. I realized that NYC is my real home and yes, it's all that. Despite the crowds and the crazy tourists. NYC is my home. DC could only be a place I visit every so often.

The happiest little brunch place on Earth...

2008-01-15T17:07:00.000-05:00

{Image taken from Penelope's website: http://www.penelopenyc.com/}

Penelope, a little brunch place in Murray Hill (often called Curry Hill because of the Indian restaurants in that 'hood), is my little piece of heaven. The food is not that cheap breakfast-wise, but then again, I don't think $3 eggs at our local diner is that common in the rest of the city, or the rest of the world, for that matter. But, the eggs aren't that great either. Penelope is yummy brunch food -- fresh eggs, fresh bakery bread, tea or coffee in mugs that don't match each other. It feels like home, there is no other way to describe it. And it's not only my little piece of heaven, judging by the long line to get a table most Saturday and Sunday mid-mornings.

But it is a place I wanted to take our guests to while they were here because it is not a place you would ever find in Spain. We actually made it there on a weekday, and it was closer to afternoon than morning, so we missed breakfast by a hair. We had to 'settle' for lunch; and I was pleasantly surprised lunch at Penelope wasn't half bad at all.

Kike and Paki both got chicken clubs -- I had wanted them to be a bit more daring, but they seemed to order chicken wherever we went. I don't really get it, considering how diverse the food in Spain is... but I figured since they couldn't really imagine what the different kinds of things America had to offer would taste like, I suppose they thought chicken would be the safe bet... And these chicken clubs happened to look, and as I understood with my limited Spanish, taste fantastic as well. I got the chicken pot pie. Oh, how I love chicken pot pie. I think currently it is my number one of top five things I love to eat... And this one did not disappoint. The chicken was lovely in tender, in a creamy and flavorful filling, with loads of veggies too -- butternut squash, asparagus, peas, mmmmm.

Kike couldn't really find the word in English to describe the feeling he got from Penelope, but I think after a few giggles and perplexed looks at each other, we agreed 'cozy' would be the most appropriate word. So the happiest little brunch place on Earth is cozy too, or at least that is what I think he said. LOL.

There are a lot of people in New York right now...

2007-12-28T22:01:00.000-05:00

... which is part of the reason that I have been away from blogging recently. The Spanish Invasion (the sequel) is now in New York -- Rafa's sister and her boyfriend are in town. I have been showing them around the city during, I may add, the busiest time of year. Christmas in New York is the reason that I curl up into a little ball on my couch at this time of year -- making believe the craziness doesn't actually exist is a lot easier than dealing with reality -- New York at Christmas is OFF THE HOOK!

I was almost trampled upon a few times already. Why can't all these tourists just go home already? Christmas was DAYS ago. LOL.

The first Spanish Invasion featured Rafa's bff and girlfriend. I had the strength to blog about their trip daily. I don't think that is happening any time soon. But, I have made some delish dinners, so stay tuned on my other blog.

Is the food fresh?: A TV review

2007-12-13T19:35:00.000-05:00

For the last few weeks, the American version of Kitchen Nightmares has been on TV here. It's basically the same thing as Gordon Ramsay's British show, but of course Americanized... like bits about him 'almost' about to get into fist fights with uptight Long Islanders... and how every single woman on the show seems to think he is 'oh so handsome'. I never really liked Gordon Ramsay, but really started appreciating him for his talent ever since seeing the British version of the show on BBC America many months ago.

Brilliance is attractive. He is a very, very smart man when it comes to his craft. And not just the cooking. The whole array of things that comes with being a restauranteur. He obviously is in the right field, and loves what he does. So I have come to really like him. And yes, there is something sexy about him.

The premise of the show is that Gordon visits a restaurant in financial trouble; customers don't come in, management is shit, chefs and/or owners are too set in their ways, to the point of even being abusive to their work colleagues. And then, Gordon saves them all.

As a foodie, however, I really like the food aspect of the show. Gordon Ramsay is a cook first, restauranteur second. When he comes to sample the dishes the restaurant cooks, he usually asks for crab cakes, if they are on the menu, and always asks if the crab is fresh. More often than not, the wait staff tells him it is, and more often than not, they are lying or don't know that the crab is not fresh -- that most of the food items in the restaurant are not freshly made. This show has really opened my eyes to the restaurant business. I already knew that obviously chain restaurants didn't make things fresh for the most part. But, I never thought that individual restaurants did that... And I still have the optimistic view, or hope, that restaurants do serve up freshly made food...

One comment on the show really hit close to home. When Gordon had a bite of some really bad lobster ravioli in a restaurant in Long Island, he sent it back. He said it tasted like it was frozen. The waiter brought back the ravioli to the chef and told him what Chef Ramsay said. The chef said, 'Yeah, of course, it's from Restaurant Depot.' Now, I know about Restaurant Depot. My dad always talks about it because he goes there for kitchen supplies being a utensil hoarder, that of course is genetic; the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. When I asked him after seeing the show if they sell frozen food, he said, 'Yeah, that is where all restaurants get their food'. I was shocked! I mean, I'd like to believe that at least posh restaurants in Manhattan make their own food, but I have fully realized that everybody else is just buying already prepared food, heating it up, and serving it to customers. I don't know about you, but that pisses me off. My father is fully convinced that EVERY restaurant on the face of this Earth uses already prepared food. I think that's going a bit overboard, but I think it would surprise the majority of us how much food is really not made by our favorite restaurants.

Some un-fresh food for thought! :)

Have a holly, jolly Christmas!

2007-12-12T15:48:00.000-05:00

... It's the best time of the year....

We got our Christmas tree! Of course, we're total procrastinators getting it so late, not unlike the other Christmas enthusiasts around us that start decorating their houses a few hours after they have had their Thanksgiving lunch.

Previous years, we have had our mini fake tree. There didn't seem to be a point to get a big one or even the real thing, living in a tiny one-bedroom... But this is the first Christmas in an actually decent-sized place. Rafa has to do all the Jewish holidays with me and my folks, so it is only fair that I do Christmas with him. But, honestly, I don't mind! I love Christmas -- I've never actually met a Jew that likes Christmas as much as I do. The songs, the eating, the decorating, the SHOPPING! And this year we have a real tree, that smells like a forest (I don't really have much access to nature!), that we could decorate. I could finally make Nigella's Christmas tree decorations! That will be my weekend project. I'll delightfully de-emasculate our tree with frilly and shiny decs while my husband is none-the-wiser all the way up in Boston.

We did start on some 'modest' decorations last night. We put up two sets of lights, which we quickly found out were not enough for our massive (kinda obese) tree. And we have a bunch of balls (or as my British friends say 'baubles', which, by the way, sounds even dirtier than balls!) to put up, but alas, no strings. Why do they sell balls without strings? We also need that long sparkly stuff to drape around the tree. We're not sure what it's called. Not tinsel. It's like the Christmas version of a drag queen's feather boa.

The night of fun wasn't complete, though, without stuffing our face with Brooklyn's finest pizza. Oh, we totally left our previous pizza establishment. I've decided, after too many oily pies recently, that they have definitely gone downhill in taste and quality. I consulted with hubbykins, and we decided that we needed to try something new. After five years of loyalty to one place, it was time to move on... and surprisingly, we moved on fairly quickly. So, it's Trio no more. Now, Del Mar is supplying our bi-monthly cravings for pizza.

After some decorating and some eating, we opened up brand spankin' new Season 3 of Lost. Yes! We actually had it delivered on its release date, confirming to me that God is actually masquerading on this Earth as Amazon.com.

So we started off the Christmas season the right way.... with vanity, gluttony, and a nice dose of materialism for good measure. Merry Christmas!

2 week countdown to unemployment, again

2007-12-01T22:14:00.000-05:00

So my temp job is living up to its title -- it's over, at least in two weeks it is.

I was crushed, initially, when I found out. That was an odd feeling because I knew sooner or later I'd find out my future there -- but I guess the shock went away pretty fast. It's temporary. It's nothing personal. It's strange, though, how you could feel so attached so quickly. And it's something I never thought I'd enjoy doing, but it wasn't that bad. Since I'm leaving soon, I guess I'd better tell you what I have been doing at the hoity toity offices on Madison Avenue. Event planning! Yes! I was doing basically the recruiting end... for a pharmaceutical company. It felt horribly unethical, but I guess I kind of forgot about that since I was getting a paycheck for the past three months or so. I've realized I like talking on the phone, and generally being nice to people, because I'm a nice person. It's not an act with me. I know America is all about customer service and smiling at everyone and basically giving a good impression, but I really DO like people, and providing a good service, and smiling at people. I like people! What else have I learned? That I'm not as smart as I thought I was, and I had/have a lot to learn. I've learned to breathe in and out in a stressful situation, and there were many at this job. I've learned that it is up to me, and me alone, to make myself happy. I was so unhappy, for so long... And Crapco was the reason. I was drowning there. I allowed myself to fall into a rut, to gain an ungodly amount of weight, to waste away because I saw no end to it. Until I put an end to it. And then I went to Israel and had the time of my life. And then I came home and thought I'd have a mental breakdown because I wasn't working and nobody wanted me to work for them and I was needing to move out of the place that I thought would make me happy but didn't. I moved there because I was so unhappy at Crapco. Yeah, that's smart, Ilana. You move apartments because you're unhappy in your job. Back then, I didn't know where to pinpoint my unhappiness.

So in August I found this temp job and we moved to the best friggin' apartment in Brooklyn, thank you very much, and life is absolutely wonderful. Really friggin' great. So I am going to be unemployed again soon and the holidays are coming which means holiday expenses and my sister-in-law is coming to visit from Spain and we have to show off just a little bit because we're the successful family members in America... and that's wonderful, because this is an experience she won't have too often. But all that is fine. I'm not freaking out. It will work out, it always does. I'm happy... for the first time in a long time. I'm healthy. Working at a quasi-normal place for three months showed me there is a positive work atmosphere. There are normal people out there. That come to work to work.

I'm bummed I won't be able to wear my awesome work clothes for a while... I was so rocking winter! But I'll wear them again. My life isn't over. I'll just have to find a new place to debut various outfits... And no shopping for a while, either. Damn! I'm putting an end to it soon, though, because I have been going kind of mental with it lately. The other day I bought what is probably my hundredth handbag. I need a support group! Unemployed-Bagwhores-Anonymous. Please join me, at least for the bagwhore part. :)

Good Girls Tuck In Their Shirts

2007-11-28T22:39:00.000-05:00

Maybe it's a Russian thing, but my family is obsessed with having our shirts tucked into everything! I am pretty sure our parents did it with us, and now my sister's in-laws are doing it to Liam too. It was so uncool for so long, but now, it's suddenly cool. On professional women, that is.

I started noticing this trend a couple of years ago. Really skinny bitches with absolutely no hips or waists, would wear long skinny pants, for their long skinny bitchy legs, and they would tuck in their button-down shirts into those pants. Even though I thought these women were bitchy in their skinniness, part of me wanted to be like them. I couldn't tuck in my shirts, because doing so would restrain my breathing even more. It was hard enough to wear pants that didn't sink into my skin, creating the perfect indentation of a button on my third breast.

But, haha, I can wear my shirts tucked into my pants now. And the reason I could do this is not because I am buying pants now that actually fit me. It is because the pants that created that perfect button indentation are now two sizes too big. I've become a skinny bitch! Ok, now, I'm not a skinny bitch. I haven't had one of those stomach stapling things and am now a size 0 that pushes tomatoes around on a salad plate. I've become someone closely resembling what I used to look like.... and I think I'm liking this shirt tucked in thing. I've resisted writing a 'ooh-look-at-how-skinny-I-am' post for a long time. For two reasons. One, I really haven't lost an enormous amount of weight, comparably. Two, my weight doesn't define me - but it does make me feel awesome that a bit of it is finally off. And that part makes me fear I'm shallow. But, let's face it, I'm shallow. No use hiding it any longer! I've lost close to 15 pounds, and I am feeling like a rock star!!! Woohoo, but not the rock stars that snort heroin. I promise I'm not snorting heroin!

3 week countdown to hibernation

2007-11-26T22:21:00.000-05:00

My husband and I make a great couple, but I must admit we don't agree on a lot. In fact, we have very different tastes when it comes to most things. Ah, but variety is the spice of life, right?

My favorite TV show is Lost. Rafa never started watching it with me from the beginning, so never got into it. I think that Lost is the best show ever! And therefore, I think that everyone should feel the same way. But Rafa wasn't up to being convinced.

I bought myself season 1 and 2 of Lost to tide me over until season 4 starts in February, 2008. And happily, Rafa has become my Lost-watching buddy! Ever since we got the DVDs about a couple of months ago, we have spent many an evening, or even lazy weekends, slumped on the couch, watching the survivors. We felt like daredevils when we'd get through an entire disc in one sitting! (We really need to get out more!) But we finished watching the end of season 2 a few weeks ago! Although Rafa doesn't express his yearning for more Lost, I could sense it, you know, telepathically. He's hurting, just like me.

Thank god I've pre-ordered season 3. We're expecting delivery in just under 3 weeks. I plan on grabbing those DVDs, locking the door, getting under covers, and not re-emerging until I can properly say goodbye to CHOLLY again. Sniffle sniffle.

The Sweater Dress

2007-11-22T12:30:00.000-05:00

The sweater dress. It's fabulous. I love fashion again. I love being stylish. Finally a look that I could actually pull off.

Sweater dresses are forgiving. And because I'm short, and a lot of sweaters nowadays are actually quite long, pretty much every sweater can become a sweater dress for me. I didn't usually wear dresses. It also never seemed a smart thing to wear on cold winter nights. But now dresses are sweaters. Sweaters are dresses. I could wear them with black tights. My short legs look longer. I am cheeky in my short, short, sweater dress.

This is a defining moment in my life. It's the first time in my life that I actually care what I look like, and getting dressed in the morning is usually kind of fun.

Thank you to the fashion gods. Finally a trend I could be alright with.

I get really cute sweater dresses at H&M. It's actually a bit scary how inexpensive the clothing is there. I'm pretty sure that some poor people are getting horribly underpaid in some area of the world so that I could have a fashionable sweater dress for $14.90. I'll be very happy to elaborate on this point but I'm too unintelligent and too shallow to continue. Hey, at least I'm honest!

Just really good food.

2007-11-16T20:35:00.000-05:00

After the exciting book signing, that wasn't really, I was in the mood for something comforting, something familiar. I felt sad and vulnerable, and just wanted to go to dinner with my honey. Someplace I knew that would be good. Really good food.

We got into a cab (which we never do!), and went a few blocks uptown to Cafe Orlin. I love this place. I've gone to brunch here on a few lazy Sundays. They have unbelievable brunch food. The menu is the Mediterranean I am familiar with and love, but also other delicious things that just beg to be ordered. I've never gone there for dinner, and couldn't wait to see what the menu would offer.

Rafa and I sat in the raised part of the restaurant, looking at the other diners down below, through arched windows. I had one of the best ravioli dishes I've ever had -- Mushroom Ravioli in a Basil Cream Sauce. Rafa had Grilled Hanger Steak served with watercress and streak frites in a port wine sauce. It was a lovely environment. I felt happy being there. On a date, in the city. We don't do it often. I had steamed milk with sugar and vanilla as my dessert. A sweet end to a lovely meal.

Cafe Orlin
41 Saint Marks Place
Btwn 1st & 2nd Ave
New York, NY 10003

Phone: 212-777-1447

Movie Moment: The Lives of Others

2007-11-10T20:44:00.001-05:00

A couple of months back, maybe longer, my very good friend, Elana, recommended I see The Lives of Others. It is a German movie about... well... something. I actually had no idea what it was about, or maybe Elana told me, but I didn't remember it. At that time, I didn't get a chance to see the movie, and regretting it, I put it in my Netflix queue knowing the movie will come out on DVD.. and it did, and I finally got to see it tonight.

From the description on the DVD sleeve, it seemed like some kind of political drama about the Communist years in East Germany in the 80s. I wasn't expecting much, to be honest. Elana and I are great friends. But we don't have similar tastes in movies. She likes off-beat comedies made by directors like Wes Anderson, who I just don't get... or sometimes she wants to see movies that I would completely not expect of her, like Nacho Libre! But Elana is very passionate about politics, and censorship, and the government, and other things that make my head hurt. So like I said, I wasn't expecting much... and I actually fell asleep the first 20 minutes! LOL. I blame the fact that it's been a lazy day and the sun is now going to bed around 5pm, so I'm not exactly used to darkness so quickly.

But when I woke up, rewound back to the beginning, I sat through the entire movie, and was really taken by it. I won't give it away what was so special about this movie, but it is definitely one to watch. The beginning is slow, and a bit political (yawn!), but then it gets more human, more personal. Really a beautiful film. The ending warmed my heart.

Ok, won't give it away. Watch it! Even if you have no idea what it's about.

NB: The main actress is from another great German film, Mostly Martha! She is brill in this as well. And I must have her sunglasses in the bar scene. So cool!

Darwin would not approve.

2007-11-10T09:03:00.000-05:00

I'm starting to feel like the last someone-like-me in the world... A unique woman, a woman not like anyone else. With the cooler temperatures, the boots have come out. Not the clunky boots. The sexy, knee-high boots, that every woman seems to have a pair of. They have become a new characteristic of the 21st century woman. But, it is a characteristic I am lacking. I don't wear knee-high boots. I can't wear knee-high boots. I can't even wear mid-calf boots. I'm a freak. A big freakishly large-calved freak.

I always knew I was big-calved. Every Fall I try on boots hoping my calves had miraculously shrunk over the Summer, but they never did. And then, of course, I blame my genes. My dad has big calves. I have big calves. But he's a man. He doesn't have men all around him wearing boots he could never hope to fit into. Thinking about it now, what on earth do men have to worry about? Their fashion hardly ever changes. What, a new cut in their pants?! Come on! With all that time that is free from worrying, you'd think men would remember to take out the garbage. Hmmmn!

But back to my freakishness. I think part of it is my dad, and the other part, I'm short! The length between my heel and my knee is not as long as other people. So, my calf starts a lot sooner than a taller person's calf. I think I just need to get over it, which is really the purpose of this post. I'm not meant to wear these boots. I'll schlepp around in my pseudo UGGs and be happy.

A coworker of mine mentioned you could pay people to stretch out your boots... So what, I'll queue up with the rest of the undesirables? Yes, please, stretch out my boot so I could look like a normal person?! But really, I'm just too lazy. Taking action is hard. Bitching and being lazy is a lot easier. Which pretty much sums me up. A lazy 4'11" wannabe diva with a smaller bum now, but with calves that won't budge.

Urban Survival Guide

2007-11-09T17:28:00.000-05:00

I'm going to make an admission here. Something, that quite ironically, I wouldn't reveal to the people I spend most of my time with... I shop at the Salvation Army. For those that don't know, the Salvation Army is a charity shop that sells 2nd hand apparel. Yes, used clothing!

At first, I was ashamed by it. But now I'm not. I'll tell you why not! Because I scored a J. Crew 100% cashmere short sleeved sweater for $3.99!

However, not all Salvation Army(s) are alike. I didn't shop in them for years and years because the ones by me in Brooklyn had truly gross clothes. The stuff that sits at the back of your closet for years and years, and then you feel charitable enough to give it away.

The Salvation Army in Chelsea (Manhattan) is not like these stores at all! People donate seriously good crap! The same day I got my awesome J. Crew find, I also found:

J. Crew cotton vest - $3.99
Express very warm turtleneck sweater - $8.99
Mossimo sweater - $2.99
Abercrombie & Fitch wool turtleneck sweater - $3.99

And this was only with 15 minutes of shopping. See, the store closes at 6:45pm and I finish work at 6:00pm, on the dot. It's not far-ish, but is across town, which is a bitch in NYC because crosstown means mulitple train transfers and a few minutes of brisk walking. The people at the store are ANAL about closing on time. I think I may take off work one of these days at 5:30 for a few more minutes of leisurely shopping time.

Being at that store really puts me in shock of how expensive and good quality clothes can be priced so cheaply. Obviously, since people donate them and it is a charity, they can't exactly start charging full price. I'm sure the store is also there to help out those in need. People who can't afford clothes, any kind of clothes, at all. I think it's great a store like this is around. And I'm not just saying that because I benefit from it greatly.

The idealist in me is happy that fellow New Yorkers are so kind-hearted as to donate really expensive clothing. The cynic in me, the one that usually takes over, says, 'how friggin' rich are these people that they could just give away 100% cashmere sweaters; sweaters that cost $100 in even the crappiest of stores.' I can't even afford J. Crew sales, let alone full-priced stuff. I try not to separate myself from the rest of New Yorkers, but there really is a vast difference. But more to dwell on in my future posts...

Salvation Army Thrift Store
208 8th Ave
New York, NY 10011
(212) 929-5214