Taking a cue from Li Jia, the protagonist of Kitchen Chinese, one of the latest books I've read I am seizing the moment to write. Free of guilt and disappointment for a week's worth of posts scribbled in notebooks, ideas jotted on post-its, fleeting sparks of something and then nothing swirling in my brain, allowing the words to flow on the page like writing feng shui.
I've been out of sorts lately, I don't know if it's the wishy-washy change of weather; the solemnity of the news from Japan to Libya; the fast-pace change and evolution at work or maybe it's an undercurrent of what this year is: the final 284 days of my 30s.
What I've come to know is that once you graduate from college and hit the ground running with work and life, time moves so much faster than you can ever possibly imagine. It's not as if someone can warn you about this speed dial on time, it just happens, and the reality of it is intangible, how it affects you, the choices you make. In fact, not until you live through it may you determine, and discover that it is a marvelous time for self-realization and reflection.
3/23/11
2/24/11
green meets yellow on ice
Kiwi Lemon Sorbet
4 fresh kiwis, peeled and cut into small pieces
1/2 c. sugar
juice of 3 medium lemons
2 T. light corn syrup
2 c. ice cold water
4 fresh kiwis, peeled and cut into small pieces
1/2 c. sugar
juice of 3 medium lemons
2 T. light corn syrup
2 c. ice cold water
- Combine kiwi, sugar and lemon juice in a mixing bowl.
- Cover and refrigerate for one hour.
- When ready to freeze, mash the kiwi to desired consistency; add corn syrup and water and stir until blended.
- Transfer the mixture to your ice cream maker and freeze following manufacturer instructions.
2/23/11
My favorite scoop
In my last post, I mentioned how I had plans to get back to my life and to all the things I love most, like making homemade ice cream.
A few years ago one of my dear friends, "Mon Frite," introduced me to the wonderful world of homemade ice cream, a hobby she shares with her Dad. Almost every time she heads home to visit, she makes his favorite Maple ice cream. When she shared the simplicity of the process it seemed almost kismet that I should combine my love for ice cream with my love for baking. To help get me started, Mon Frite recommended I purchase an ice cream maker and suggested a recipe book or two to use as a reference.
Ice Cream is literally a frozen, sweetened cream (made from a combination of cream and milk with sweeteners and flavoring). Once you master the sweet cream base, everything else is easy, and the most fun part begins: experimentation, mixing and matching ingredients, and truly exploring the craft of ice cream magic.
****
The following recipe and ingredients were inspired by using Ben & Jerry's Sweet Cream Base.
Honey Vanilla Chamomile Ice Cream
2 c. 1/2 and 1/2
5-6 Honey Vanilla Chamomile tea bags (I used Celestial Seasoning)
2 T of honey
1 c. sweetened and condensed milk, cold
A few years ago one of my dear friends, "Mon Frite," introduced me to the wonderful world of homemade ice cream, a hobby she shares with her Dad. Almost every time she heads home to visit, she makes his favorite Maple ice cream. When she shared the simplicity of the process it seemed almost kismet that I should combine my love for ice cream with my love for baking. To help get me started, Mon Frite recommended I purchase an ice cream maker and suggested a recipe book or two to use as a reference.
Ice Cream is literally a frozen, sweetened cream (made from a combination of cream and milk with sweeteners and flavoring). Once you master the sweet cream base, everything else is easy, and the most fun part begins: experimentation, mixing and matching ingredients, and truly exploring the craft of ice cream magic.
****
The following recipe and ingredients were inspired by using Ben & Jerry's Sweet Cream Base.
Honey Vanilla Chamomile Ice Cream
2 c. 1/2 and 1/2
5-6 Honey Vanilla Chamomile tea bags (I used Celestial Seasoning)
2 T of honey
1 c. sweetened and condensed milk, cold
- Open can of sweetened and condensed milk and transfer to measuring cup. Set aside to chill in refrigerator.
- Pour half-and-half into double boiler and heat; whisk in honey and bring to simmer.
- Remove from heat and add tea bags; allow tea to steep for at least one hour.
- After hour is complete, remove tea bags and add in sweetened condensed milk to tea mixture. Whisk until blended.
- Transfer the mixture to your ice cream maker and freeze following manufacturer instructions.
2/14/11
catalyst
I crashed on Friday night, and slept through most of Saturday, still recovering from my bout with the upper ninth contagion. Saturday, cup of coffee in hand, I barely left the couch save the time it took to accept my first (and 20-minute early) order from Fresh Direct. The next 12 hours were spent cleaning out and condensing email accounts, stripping the Internet of excess personal information. It's no easy task, sifting through years worth of intentional and sometimes randomly created online accounts, though its definitely worth the effort. You should try it yourself and see.
Asleep by 3, up by 10, I was on the fast track to being on time when I made the mistake of checking my Blackberry. The weekend tends to last a bit longer if I refrain from checking my work email until later in the day; sometimes I'm not always successful. 90 minutes later, a quart of Honey Vanilla Chamomile ice cream (I'll post my recipe later but here's one to whet the appetite) in a thermal carry bag and I'm on my way.
It's a two fare zone to Carroll Gardens, and it's been awhile since I've taken the bus to the train to get there. It used to be part of my morning commute when I worked for a start-up back in the late 90s. Back then I managed marketing and events for an online production company. I would travel the F train above ground, below ground, across train bridges, the city's skyline just within view, all the way to Carroll Street, the Smith-9th Street station deemed unsafe for a woman walking alone. It used to be anyway. Back then I knew the F train route pretty well, I would leave my station on Court and 4th and head downtown into DUMBO to train with my boxing instructor Bobby Beckles. That was before JLO and Gold Street were prime real estate, before they were pipe dreams.
I find myself using a lot of words that conjure the past: back then, before, used to -- not sure why these phrases keep popping up in my conversations, it's a bit startling and has forced a pause for reflection. At the end of last year I realized that my work had taken over my life, and I sort of had an identity crisis. There are so many things I used to do, out of curiosity or just for the sheer joy of trying something new, and I've definitely been lackadaisical in partaking. But I've decided to change it up, this year comes with a new attitude and a fresh perspective. My challenge for 2011 is to get back in touch with who I am, rediscovering me.
Starting right now.
Asleep by 3, up by 10, I was on the fast track to being on time when I made the mistake of checking my Blackberry. The weekend tends to last a bit longer if I refrain from checking my work email until later in the day; sometimes I'm not always successful. 90 minutes later, a quart of Honey Vanilla Chamomile ice cream (I'll post my recipe later but here's one to whet the appetite) in a thermal carry bag and I'm on my way.
It's a two fare zone to Carroll Gardens, and it's been awhile since I've taken the bus to the train to get there. It used to be part of my morning commute when I worked for a start-up back in the late 90s. Back then I managed marketing and events for an online production company. I would travel the F train above ground, below ground, across train bridges, the city's skyline just within view, all the way to Carroll Street, the Smith-9th Street station deemed unsafe for a woman walking alone. It used to be anyway. Back then I knew the F train route pretty well, I would leave my station on Court and 4th and head downtown into DUMBO to train with my boxing instructor Bobby Beckles. That was before JLO and Gold Street were prime real estate, before they were pipe dreams.
I find myself using a lot of words that conjure the past: back then, before, used to -- not sure why these phrases keep popping up in my conversations, it's a bit startling and has forced a pause for reflection. At the end of last year I realized that my work had taken over my life, and I sort of had an identity crisis. There are so many things I used to do, out of curiosity or just for the sheer joy of trying something new, and I've definitely been lackadaisical in partaking. But I've decided to change it up, this year comes with a new attitude and a fresh perspective. My challenge for 2011 is to get back in touch with who I am, rediscovering me.
Starting right now.
loose change
I've always been a firm believer that things happen for a reason. This morning as I left the house, I impulsively grabbed a pile of quarters sitting on the kitchen counter. A short while later settled on a city bus, a fellow passenger was rounding up change for his fare. Coincidence? Fate? A message from the universe? Perhaps. I have no mysticism to share, just an observation: that one should be cognizant of how they choose to participate in this world. And when possible, they should participate wisely, for the greater good. It almost always prevails.
11/23/10
the secret of life...
Best friends, you can never have too many of them in your lifetime. And rest assured that you will have many. It's like that poem that has circled mailboxes and inboxes for decades, detailing the cycles of friendship and life, about how and why people shuffle in and out of it. As the words go: for a reason, a season or a lifetime.
Think reasons and seasons:
Childhood, high school, the good times of college, first love, first fight, work angst, vacation fun.
The span of a lifetime:
Lean on me when the world comes crashing down, rejoice with me when the sun is shining, console me from embarrassment, save me from myself.
Be here, sweet friend, be here.
In present society I find that it's just too easy to be friends. Friends, I use that term loosely. The progressive nature of technology offers countless ways to stay in touch through feeds, wall postings and status updates, allowing us to broaden our circle of acquaintances and blur the lines that separate them from our friends.
Acquaintances share a commonality, an interest but oftentimes the relationship is fleeting, temporary. Friends on the other hand are like family, members of which you have cultivated a relationship. You learn to grow with each other, in spite of one another's idiosyncrasies. You become each other's confidante, backboard, truth serum. You love one another unconditionally and without judgment. It is a natural evolution from stranger to friend, and occasionally acquaintances themselves evolve into one.
Maybe I am naive to be wistful, wishful, but I long for the days when friends were friends forever. Some may call that a myth, a childhood fancy. I believe it exists: this magic of friendship. Despite the madness and confusion of the world, I believe there are still humans out there who embrace the complexity of it; who thrive from the give and take, the nurturing; who harness, protect and defend each other from the threat of an asunder; who still practice the art of thoughtful communication. The warmth of a voice over the phone, hugs exchanged in greetings of hello/goodbye, the stories that made you laugh until you cried, memories shared through postcards, photographs (thank goodness for these), letters, phone calls, quality time, the absolute cerebral reality of being there in the moment. These timeless treasures, I feel as if they are happening less and less, were it not for my photographs I might start to believe they didn't happen at all.
The world is spinning so fast, everything has become blurry, disoriented. Even the events one relies on to connect fall flat. I recently celebrated a birthday, away from my city of origin, disconnected from a LAN/landline. I was looking forward to this day of celebration because of the phone calls and cards--concrete tokens from loved ones, family and friends. Imagine my utter disappointment when the phone (and postman) only rang twice. Every other birthday wish came noiselessly over the Internet, in email and posted to Facebook. The silence was deafening, filling my heart with a longing for another era. Era, the language of my grandparents. I'm still too young to be thinking in such terms and yet there seems no other word for it.
(quiet reflection)
These late night musings should be shared over malbec and merlot accompanied by philosophical conversations, memories, the occasional regret absolved with bittersweet chocolate and laughter.
They should not be part of a soliloquy.
~~~
"I found out what the secret to life is: friends. Best friends." - Ninny Threadgoode (Fried Green Tomatoes)
Think reasons and seasons:
Childhood, high school, the good times of college, first love, first fight, work angst, vacation fun.
The span of a lifetime:
Lean on me when the world comes crashing down, rejoice with me when the sun is shining, console me from embarrassment, save me from myself.
Be here, sweet friend, be here.
In present society I find that it's just too easy to be friends. Friends, I use that term loosely. The progressive nature of technology offers countless ways to stay in touch through feeds, wall postings and status updates, allowing us to broaden our circle of acquaintances and blur the lines that separate them from our friends.
Acquaintances share a commonality, an interest but oftentimes the relationship is fleeting, temporary. Friends on the other hand are like family, members of which you have cultivated a relationship. You learn to grow with each other, in spite of one another's idiosyncrasies. You become each other's confidante, backboard, truth serum. You love one another unconditionally and without judgment. It is a natural evolution from stranger to friend, and occasionally acquaintances themselves evolve into one.
Maybe I am naive to be wistful, wishful, but I long for the days when friends were friends forever. Some may call that a myth, a childhood fancy. I believe it exists: this magic of friendship. Despite the madness and confusion of the world, I believe there are still humans out there who embrace the complexity of it; who thrive from the give and take, the nurturing; who harness, protect and defend each other from the threat of an asunder; who still practice the art of thoughtful communication. The warmth of a voice over the phone, hugs exchanged in greetings of hello/goodbye, the stories that made you laugh until you cried, memories shared through postcards, photographs (thank goodness for these), letters, phone calls, quality time, the absolute cerebral reality of being there in the moment. These timeless treasures, I feel as if they are happening less and less, were it not for my photographs I might start to believe they didn't happen at all.
The world is spinning so fast, everything has become blurry, disoriented. Even the events one relies on to connect fall flat. I recently celebrated a birthday, away from my city of origin, disconnected from a LAN/landline. I was looking forward to this day of celebration because of the phone calls and cards--concrete tokens from loved ones, family and friends. Imagine my utter disappointment when the phone (and postman) only rang twice. Every other birthday wish came noiselessly over the Internet, in email and posted to Facebook. The silence was deafening, filling my heart with a longing for another era. Era, the language of my grandparents. I'm still too young to be thinking in such terms and yet there seems no other word for it.
(quiet reflection)
These late night musings should be shared over malbec and merlot accompanied by philosophical conversations, memories, the occasional regret absolved with bittersweet chocolate and laughter.
They should not be part of a soliloquy.
~~~
"I found out what the secret to life is: friends. Best friends." - Ninny Threadgoode (Fried Green Tomatoes)
11/25/08
Andrea Meets the Boy From Oz
I was on a blind date (set up by Sharyl, Ms. Doylestown herself) at The Oak Room. Before arriving, Craig met a couple Katrina & Kerry regulars at the establishment...who had recently bought an apartment at The Plaza. Katrina was very pleasant, genuinely charming, she garnered respect from everyone in the room and more or less knew the entire staff.
Craig & I joined Katrina & Kerry for dinner...The Oak Room Bar, newly renovated by restaurateur Joey Allaham and Chef Joel Antunes was an experience even for this native New Yorker, a wondrous way to kick off the week. My meal started with sea urchin on a bed of creamy polenta foam, followed by roast loin of lamb with artichoke hearts and ending with the most decadent of desserts: Rice Pudding w/Cointreau, Pumpkin Pots de Creme, Miniature Madelines, and a plate of pastries fit enough for a king.
Katrina, god bless her soul put me to shame with her social butterfly etiquette making new friends by the handful. Whilst she was away we had the pleasure of ogling Richard Gere at a neighboring table, and upon her return introduced us to Joey Allaham and his wife Lauren. A charming, and beautiful, couple. A short while later, after another social circle of conversation Katrina returns to tell us we're crashing the party next door at the Palm Court for the premiere of the new Hugh Jackman & Nicole Kidman movie Australia.
In NYC fashion, we pose as Katrina & Kerry's daughter and son-in-law and soon we're mingling with the celebrity studded crowd--filled with people who look familiar but are unrecognizable. As we a are wandering about I spot a dashingly handsome man in a 3-piece suit, its Hugh Jackman of course ...the date is thinking we should plot to get a picture, we conspire ...but it feels too invasive, he's there with his wife and family friends....
We pause to strike up a conversation with one of the secret service security guys (a moonlighting NYPD detective and I wonder if he knows Ray). We start chatting about celeb duty... and Eddie Boyle (born in Flatbush, now from Rockville Center), asks how we got in and I who cannot tell a lie come clean. Eddie laughs and asks if I've taken a photo with the man...I shake my head and he responds "If you're brazen enough to crash a party then what's stopping you from getting a photo?" Well he had a point and so with nothing to lose we make our move. We're hovering in the queue of fans milling around the movie star...and Eddie sweet Eddie leans toward Mr. Jackman, whispers in his ear and the next thing I know I'm being formally introduced to Mr. Jackman himself. The date takes a photo using my phone its kind of grainy but one of thing's for sure Hugh Jackman is charming, gracious, and yes, ultimately gorgeous.
Craig & I joined Katrina & Kerry for dinner...The Oak Room Bar, newly renovated by restaurateur Joey Allaham and Chef Joel Antunes was an experience even for this native New Yorker, a wondrous way to kick off the week. My meal started with sea urchin on a bed of creamy polenta foam, followed by roast loin of lamb with artichoke hearts and ending with the most decadent of desserts: Rice Pudding w/Cointreau, Pumpkin Pots de Creme, Miniature Madelines, and a plate of pastries fit enough for a king.
Katrina, god bless her soul put me to shame with her social butterfly etiquette making new friends by the handful. Whilst she was away we had the pleasure of ogling Richard Gere at a neighboring table, and upon her return introduced us to Joey Allaham and his wife Lauren. A charming, and beautiful, couple. A short while later, after another social circle of conversation Katrina returns to tell us we're crashing the party next door at the Palm Court for the premiere of the new Hugh Jackman & Nicole Kidman movie Australia.In NYC fashion, we pose as Katrina & Kerry's daughter and son-in-law and soon we're mingling with the celebrity studded crowd--filled with people who look familiar but are unrecognizable. As we a are wandering about I spot a dashingly handsome man in a 3-piece suit, its Hugh Jackman of course ...the date is thinking we should plot to get a picture, we conspire ...but it feels too invasive, he's there with his wife and family friends....
We pause to strike up a conversation with one of the secret service security guys (a moonlighting NYPD detective and I wonder if he knows Ray). We start chatting about celeb duty... and Eddie Boyle (born in Flatbush, now from Rockville Center), asks how we got in and I who cannot tell a lie come clean. Eddie laughs and asks if I've taken a photo with the man...I shake my head and he responds "If you're brazen enough to crash a party then what's stopping you from getting a photo?" Well he had a point and so with nothing to lose we make our move. We're hovering in the queue of fans milling around the movie star...and Eddie sweet Eddie leans toward Mr. Jackman, whispers in his ear and the next thing I know I'm being formally introduced to Mr. Jackman himself. The date takes a photo using my phone its kind of grainy but one of thing's for sure Hugh Jackman is charming, gracious, and yes, ultimately gorgeous.
10/27/08
The Desk Stops Here
A cluttered desk says so little and yet so much about a person. Try as I might I attempt to keep the surface area organized but some days I find it just as taxing as the line items on my to do list. To think that the desks here at 770 offer less space...it certainly doesn't seem that way. We've been at our space for just a week and my cube feels as if its been lived in for years...there are even Olympic ring coffee stains marring the counter top.
In a survey of what I can see, on the keyboard level of my desk:
a bamboo tree drinking water and turning yellow;
the newly crocheted scarf I received from a friend;
piles of paper with scribblings in ink and in lead;
Netflix movies to return;
my weekly calendar (as much as I try I cannot not write things down);
typed up to do lists to keep me on track;
newspaper articles with copy circled for use in presentations;
a neon clipboard with trade articles to review;
two water bottles half-filled;
a cactus stone garden (a welcome gift from the company when we moved);
an iPod idling on pause, earphones dangling off the desktop;
coupons and reminder postcards for doctor appointments;
a day's old worth of coffee (still smells good, tastes awful);
a pair of eyeglasses;
a jar full of pens, pencils, plastic utensils and scissors;
a purple mouse pad and wrist guard;
the Synonym Finder (one of the best writing resources); and
an HP printer.
In a survey of what I can see, on the keyboard level of my desk:
a bamboo tree drinking water and turning yellow;
the newly crocheted scarf I received from a friend;
piles of paper with scribblings in ink and in lead;
Netflix movies to return;
my weekly calendar (as much as I try I cannot not write things down);
typed up to do lists to keep me on track;
newspaper articles with copy circled for use in presentations;
a neon clipboard with trade articles to review;
two water bottles half-filled;
a cactus stone garden (a welcome gift from the company when we moved);
an iPod idling on pause, earphones dangling off the desktop;
coupons and reminder postcards for doctor appointments;
a day's old worth of coffee (still smells good, tastes awful);
a pair of eyeglasses;
a jar full of pens, pencils, plastic utensils and scissors;
a purple mouse pad and wrist guard;
the Synonym Finder (one of the best writing resources); and
an HP printer.
9/30/08
Loretta
the loss of anyone in your life is hard to stomach but someone who shaped you into the woman you have become? now that is a challenge every daughter and granddaughter must face at some point, and we are never ready for it when it does happen.
a friend of mine lost her grandmother recently. stories of Loretta were always colorful, filled with character. she was a spitfire, and though I never had the chance to meet her personally, the little that I know, the impact she had on my friend's life, is enough to know she will be terribly missed.
peaceful journey Loretta, rest in peace.
a friend of mine lost her grandmother recently. stories of Loretta were always colorful, filled with character. she was a spitfire, and though I never had the chance to meet her personally, the little that I know, the impact she had on my friend's life, is enough to know she will be terribly missed.
peaceful journey Loretta, rest in peace.
9/29/08
listless thoughts
how will the denial of a bailout affect our livelihoods? what will make the powers that be sit up at attention and realize that things are running amok? who is in control? i thought this was a free nation but it feels as if the rug has been pulled out from beneath us.
my insides are blindly confused by the state of the world today.
my insides are blindly confused by the state of the world today.
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