garlic and sapphires

i've been trying to eat like ruth reichl recently. my book club last read "garlic and sapphires: a critic's life in disguise" about her tenure as the chief restuarant critic for the new york times in the 1990s, and the thing that struck me most about her writing was the way she described experiencing food. each bite was a search to taste each distinct flavor, to search out the components to understand the whole. her relationship to food is complex and pleasurable, as much about the science of the cook as the artistry of the chef. so when i say i've been trying to eat like ruth reichl, i don't mean that i've been heading out to le cirque in a bright red wig, i mean i've been trying to deepen my understanding of what i choose to taste.

with that in mind, i closed my eyes with each new bite at centro vinoteca, where aa, mk and i went to celebrate restaurant week. we started with piccolini, and i appreciated the brightness of the lemon aioli on my shrimp and chickpea fritter and the richness of the truffled deviled egg. the creaminess of sunchokes contrasted nicely with the texture of the chanterelles and walnuts in aa's soup, and i am sure mk enjoyed her upscale blt bruschettas. but it was the entree that really taught me to taste like a critic. kabocha squash ravioli in brown butter with walnuts and vincotto tastes at once familiar (ah, squash ravioli, you think to yourself, i know this one) and unusual (oh perhaps i was too hasty, you realize), the vincotto and brown butter lending a thick sweetness, the walnuts adding a crunch. kabocha squash has some of the richness of butternut, but a more unusual finish. i know i looked silly, sitting there with my eyes closed, exploring each new taste, but it was worth it. (the desserts are skip-able. my chocolate cake was nothing to blog about. my dirty martini, however, was spot on.) i look forward to going back to centro vinoteca, to taste new tastes again. thank you, ruth reichl.

yes we did.

did we inaugurate my president today?



why yes, yes we did. and i am proud to be an american.

doldrums

not gonna lie, s and i have been doing some serious conversating about our future in new york. we're having a crisis of faith, if you will. job, apartment, family; it's hard to see where all of it fits here in this city, where we fit in this city. there are so many things i love (you get to read about all of them), and then there are some things that i do not love (and those i usually keep to myself.) anyways, my lovely friend jay, who has an excellent way with words, has put all of this into an extremely eloquent post, winter. the truth is, she's right: new york is an easy city to love, and a hard city to love, and it so rarely loves you back. but when it does, it is so worth it. keep walking, lady, i'm on my own path too.

you will know him

overheard in the office.

tall, thin german man with ponytail: if you see ziggy--you will know him; fat guy, always wears a hat, even when he sleeps--if you see ziggy, tell him i said hi. we used to work together in munich.

don't you kind of wish you knew a german musician named ziggy, sleeping in a hat in munich?

when you talk music

one of the nice things about working in a music-related industry is that i get to go to a lot of free concerts. (don't get excited, i'm not talking about fancy famous rock bands, i mean jazz and musical theater and classical. although if that's your thing, please get excited.) one of my very good friends works with the american classical orchestra, and she offered us tickets to "levin & mozart", an evening featuring robert levin on pianoforte. i went tonight with aa, and yes, the mozart was great, and beethoven's pastorale symphony no. 6 was really fantastic.

but the absolute best thing was levin's improvisation. he asked audience members to write out two measures during intermission, and then he picked four to play and improvise with (in the style of mozart.) he then explored this incredible piece created from almost nothing. when the improvisation exercise was first described, i pictured a kind of halting exercise, him just goofing around. you know how people talk about music as another language? i'd never really understood that until tonight. he played music with the same ease that i tell a story or make conversation, picking up on patterns and themes, exploring tangents while remaining true to the original point. it was amazing to hear someone play such beautiful, complicated music off the top of his head. (and yes, i recognize that this is what jazz is, and i understand that as a language, but classical music has such strict connotations that i had never experienced this before.)

i am thankful i was able to go.

(the title is a reference to one of my most favorite podcasts from this american life. give it a listen, it's really great.)

209 reasons

in this new year, i am trying to enjoy where i am and what i am doing, instead of focusing on "the instead". a resolution, you say? sort of. rather than resolve, i decided to make a list of changes i want to accomplish in this new year, and work from there. i've already got some good plans in the works.

anyways, an important thing to me is to appreciate new york while i live here. and to appreciate brooklyn, because it is becoming my home, and i am starting to grow a lil bk pride. in my blog stumbling, i discovered a new site i like very much, even if i can't say their name aloud in polite company. (like, at work or in front of my parents.) they compiled a list of 209 reasons why brooklyn is so damn badass, and i think it is great. there are already a lot of things on there i know and appreciate, and a few things that i am like "ooh, gotta look into that!" so, read, enjoy, move to my nabe and let's get a bagel.

welcome 2009, you delightful creature. i've got big plans for you.