Archive | March, 2012

Well shit!

24 Mar

I’ve been caught.

I’ve been called out by nummmmerous people during this morning’s live-tweeting of my online shopping. Apparently if I am online, tweeting about shopping, I should have enough time to blog. NO EXCUSES. And I HAVVVVE been busy. But dammit. They’re right. No excuses. Plus I’ve missed you!

It’s a gorgeous Saturday morning here in New York. I am in bed listening to the gentle (not gentle) snores of 2 bulldogs, trying to differentiate between brownish stains on my comforter. “Butt, nose, or mouth?”, I ask, as I point to one of about 25.

They never reply.

Why am i inside on this beautiful day? Cramps. Trust me. No one out there is safe when I’m in this state. I’m doing everyone a favor here. And I’d be lying if I didn’t tell you that I am literally polishing off all of the glasses of old, warm champagne, left by my wonderful lady friends at my mini dinner party last night. Never been much a a germaphobe. Or my love for alcohol surpasses my disdain for germs. Either way. Don’t care.

Anyhow, periods and chocolate go together like blood and cocoa beans! I’m a delightful transitioner, right?

I present: the samoa girl scout cookie cupcake. Chocolate cupcake, caramel frosting and coconut — topped off with a samoa bite of partially hydrogenated loveliness.

I take absolutely zero credit for this, as it’s another creation of Kris over at Young, Married, Chic.

And you know what? It is shockingly easy, and you can even use your favorite boxed chocolate cake mix for the cupcake. The hardest part is finding the damned girl scouts. And it’s probably not good to have “where can I find girl scouts” in your google search history. Lucky for me, Kris placed an order to her dealer months ago. She met her in a dark alley in Jersey, handed over a briefcase, did a quick handshake and it was done. You might have a harder time. Unless you work in an office. I’m sure those little monsters make poor, hungry employees their bitches there. How can you turn down cookies when there is a kid, at your desk, and they are like…3 DOLLARS? Plus you work with the kid’s mom or dad. What a horrible, perfect situation for these little cookie pushers. I feel for you.

I did make one slight alteration, only because I was already at Sur La Table getting a new cupcake pan (I only have the 6-trays for GIANT cupcakes)…

Kris couldn’t have made it easier, using just a mix of vanilla frosting and caramel sauce. But I saw this and had to go for it. Was sooooo good. Used the entire jar. I love me a no-fail recipe.

As for cupcake decoration, I was lost. I am NO baker. I texted Kris and we decided to keep it simple with just some coconut and a cookie, whereas hers were decorated with caramel and chocolate sauce. Hers. Were. Gorgeous.

I baked a batch for a party, at my agency. I actually let the cupcakes cool while I was at a meeting there, then came home to quickly frost and pack up (in white pants), and brought them back to a bustling rooftop party, where I was informed I had chocolate sauce all over my enormous freak forehead.

Keep in mind that just going to these things can always be nerve-racking (ps I had to google that spelling), as you want to look great and charm the pants off of people, while maintaining class and representing the agency you love with grace and style.

I was close.

…other cupcakes were brought in, for a birthday within the office….

Ahem. Mine were on the first plate.

Jesus what else do you want me to say just make them already, I have other shit to post about stop bothering me!!!




3 Mar

Was soooo excited to make those Crispy Potato and Garlic Cakes for you guys, but ended up with some not-so-great (WINE) photos.

Making again tomorrow for brunch, will have it up shortly after! For now, enjoy a few photos from our night. Paired it with my chipotle chicken and that yummy apple / pecan / bleu cheese salad. Swoon.


I’m mad all over again.


begging faces

3 Mar

Ladies and Gentleman…a guest blogger!

3 Mar

Obama scene. Could you imagine if this is what it looked like, every time you went somewhere for 4 – 8 years? Good god.

John just walked in the door from yesterday’s rodeo, so of course the first thing I made him do was write this blog for you fine people! I drank, sure. I definitely wasn’t obnoxious-person wasted (thank GOD, this was a fancy little shindig) but I must admit, I am having a little trouble remembering what happened. So here’ssssssss Johnny!:

So we attended the fundraiser for President Obama at the Upper East Side penthouse of an HBO exec and a renowned interior decorator who happens to be in charge of redecorating the White House.

Lots of media, fashion and entertainment types attended.  If you wanted to make a movie or get a record deal or make a TV series, this was your party.  The CEO of Sony, the head of HBO, the former head of MTV, the head of Warner Music, some big fashion designers, etc.  You get the picture.  Chrissy and I were easily the youngest people there and probably the poorest.  Everyone else lived in the Upper East (or Upper West) Side and we were pretty much the only downtowners. Aren’t we so hip…

Anyway, we all schmoozed until the guest of honor arrived.  We were given color coded wrist bands at the beginning of the event.  We didn’t know what they were for, and Chrissy eventually decided to rip hers off because it was messing up her outfit.  Then we found out the wrist bands actually meant something inside the event.  They determined your pecking order when it came to meeting the President.  The colors were black, hot pink, fluorescent orange and electric blue.  We were orange so we had to wait in line for a little while.

But I did get a shout out in the President’s speech.  He said he wouldn’t try to sing since I was there.  And I yelled out, “Don’t steal my job!”

After his speech, we lined up to speak to him.  Chrissy was practicing what she would say.  She had a joke about how she was on the fence between supporting him and supporting Santorum.  She was going to settle her dilemma by having them both guess her weight and whomever was closest won.  But she figured that joke would take too long.

When we finally spoke to him, I gave him a bro-hug then said, “You remember Chrissy, right?  I don’t know if you heard, but we’re engaged now.”  He congratulated us then Chrissy invited him to the wedding.  He asked us if we had a date yet.  And Chrissy said, “We’ll work around your schedule!”  He then gave us a noncommittal answer, of course.  He’s a pretty busy guy.  Plus he said, “If I come, It’s a little inconvenient.  Everybody’s gotta get security checked.”  He said that we had been together for quite a while now and we said, “yeah, 5 years!”  Chrissy asked him how long he took to propose to Michelle and he said 3 years.  “I should have asked you this question in front of him 2 years ago.”, Chrissy said.

Then I complimented him on his recent displays of vocal prowess.  I told him I was pleasantly surprised how good he sang.  Good tone and pitch control.  Not bad at all!

Then Chrissy was like, “Why does Mitt try to sing too?  He sings ‘America the Beautiful’, but he doesn’t stop.  Nobody even knows the 3rd verse! Why does he keep going?”  The President was just cracking up.  I said, it’s just a glitch in Mitt’s programming.  In my robot voice I said, “Mitt loves ‘sport’.”  Then Chrissy asked, “Seriously though, do you think it is even slightly possible that Mitt is a robot?  Have you ever considered that it just might be true??”  And the President just kept laughing.  And that was that.

Chrissy was really happy she asked him fun questions since she figured no one else would.  Even though we’ve spent time with him a few times before, it really is cool to speak to the President.  You can see why all these important people are still a bit starstruck.

After we spoke to the President, it was time to go. The main elevator wasn’t available, and there was a long line for the service elevator, so we just took the stairs from the penthouse.  It was 15 flights, but it’s not bad when you’re going down.  Chrissy took her heels off and we went down.

After that we went to Blue Ribbon Sushi, and Chrissy kept telling me, “I’m drunk.  You have to remember all this so I can blog it!”  I was sober because I had to sing the next day at the Houston Rodeo, so here I am remembering it all for you.  You’re welcome!

Guest blogger,

John Legend

And there you have it. Nothing too exciting actually, after the fact. You know those stories that you are so excited to share then you are only met with blank faces and you have to pull one of those “well ya had to be there” things? This is that.

Oh well. We have a strange, awesome life and I enjoy sharing it with you guys 🙂

PS: Also found this photo from that night….

Just made a mental note to start taking more pictures of John or with John. For the record, he looked very handsome that night. Of course.



3 Mar

My pleasure sound, devoted to one of my favorite dishes in the city: shrimp in bubbling, piping hot chili and garlic oil at Pipa, inside ABC Home.

It comes with endless bread to slop up all of the oil with. I alwayyyyysssss tell myself that I will refuse the bread and just eat the shrimp, like a good little low carb girl, but no. As soon as I see the oil, it’s over. And let me tell you…. it’s A LOT of oil. You will love it.

I LOVE, LOVE, LOVE dishes that are served in the same cast-iron pan they were baked in. I JUST LOVE IT. I can’t say it enough.

Go to Pipa and get the scrimps.

38 E 19th St
(between Broadway & S Park Ave)
New York, NY 10003
Neighborhood: Flatiron

(212) 677-2233


1 Mar

The time: 7pm

The place: Midtown Manhattan.

Let me set the scene.

John was taping Jimmy Fallon. Blah blah music music, funny jokes, 30 Rock. We leave Jimmy Fallon. At 7. I say, “To the butcher!”. Ottomanelli & Son’s was my goal. I had made a bunnnnch of phone calls yesterday morning, desperately looking for duck fat to make crispy potato and garlic cakes from Gwyneth Paltrow’s cookbook (I KNOW, I KNOW)

I thought it would be much easier than it was. Me being me, I of course did not want to leave my area of the east village to venture out for duck fat. So I figured I’d just wait until we had a car from Fallon (yes Fallon, you paid for this duck fat venture) since it was absolutely disgusting out yesterday.

I don’t know why, but I assumed butchers had…oh I don’t know…normal human being business hours. But I guess not.

Ottomanelli & Son’s, the one place I called that actually had it (an abundance of it, as well) was closed.

Also I have no idea why I am writing this like a dramatic story but let’s go on.

Last week, I found myself cooking from the Momofuku Cookbook…which is one of my favorite things in the entire world. It’s one of those books where the ingredient list looks simple enough, but then it tells you that you need kimchi, and the recipe for kimchi is 50 pages back, then the kimchi needs a certain ingredient, and that recipe is another 20 pages back. Now, it’s not the kimchi recipe that calls for this tediousness, but many of the recipes do, and can get complicated (but SO WORTH IT, you are soooo proud of yourself). But I was making kimchi brusselsSSSS sprouts and found myself in the situation where I didn’t have 2 days or a week to let it sit so out I went, to Momofuku itself.

Now, I had my birthday there. I go there, alone, all the time. I go with John all the time. I think of myself as sort of obsessed with the place, so I can’t imagine what the employees think of me. But I went in, asked for kimchi, and bam, they gave me kimchi. Cheating? For sure. I still can’t take credit for dem mini cabbages.

Anyhow, you can tell what I’m getting at here. When I think duck fat, I think Momofuku. So off we went, and minutes later, not only did I have duck fat, but I had a LOT of it. A TON. Like, I could bathe in it. I LOVE MOMOFUKU. Have I said that before??

So here’s the fun part. EVERY single recipe I make for the next week or until I am just plain out of duck fat, will be recipes with, well, duck fat. An homage to my dear friends at Momofuku.

Oh baby baby.