Sweet Blog o' Mine

Feed Your Mind

I am very slowly making my way through the pile of books I have amassed as gifts, loans, and for potential Gothamist columns.  I wasn't such a huge fan of Monique Truong's The Book of Salt, I'm afraid, although it has gotten very high praise from others.  I finished Batali and Ramsay mentor Marco Pierre White's A Devil in the Kitchen which comes out on May 1st.  I enjoyed it -- he's quite a character and had a major impact on the London food scene.  Finally, I read How I Learned to Cook -- a great compliation of stories from over twenty major chefs of defining moments in their culinary careers.  Next up, Slow Food Nation by Carlo Petrini and Alice Waters, and Eat, Pray, Love, by Elizabeth Gilbert.  I don't think I have a non-food-related book in the pile.

Just a Glimpse

It's interesting what you can learn about someone by taking a glance at the books on their nightstand:

I swear that this is an unstaged photo. I will admit, however, that I'm not really reading the Robber Bride or The Whore's Child at the moment, so they're more like decoration, but the rest I've at least picked up once or twice lately.   Let the comments begin.

Party Shuffle

So I'm sitting here doing some work and I've got my iTunes on "party shuffle" mode, which, although it doesn't really create the party-type atmosphere that might lift me out of the grey-day funk I seem to be in, makes me smile each time a new song comes up -- I never know what's going to be next.  Kind of like my life, I suppose. 

In between bouts of work, I'm cooking up some stuff which is going to end up being either enchiladas or some sort of mexican chicken, bean, and tortilla casserole, depending on how I feel when all the pieces are done.  I've shredded the cheese, and am about to poach the chicken and make some enchilada-type sauce.  I was inspired by a new cookbook on casseroles that I picked up on the cheap at Strand yesterday.

As for the rest of the weekend, Friday night I attempted to go to an opening-night party at Bombay Talkie, a spot billed as a "teahouse inspired by Bollywood  and the street foods of India."  Sounded great on the surface, but in reality, it was jam-packed, and the food wasn't coming fast enough for me and my very hungry companion for the evening (although we did get a nice glass of Pinot Noir out of the deal).  I'll have to go check it out some other time.  We skipped out and tried to go to Tia Pol, where I ran into a former colleague from Anderson Kill, but where they informed us that it would be an hour wait for a table.  We chose to head elsewhere before hunger-induced crankiness (and wine-on-an-empty-stomach induced drunkness) set in.  We ended up at a place called Bongo, which makes fantastic cocktails (including one hell of a sidecar) and a decent lobster roll.  I found it a little overseasoned, like the one at Mermaid Inn, but the heavily buttered roll softened the seasoning somewhat.  I still think I prefer Pearl for my NYC lobster rolls. 

After dinner, I headed home, but caved in to that "I think I'll just check in and see if anyone I know is at Otto" moment, which meant another glass of wine, and then through the magic of Dodgeball, ended up at The Stoned Crow, where I met up with Ned ("you know Ned through Nichelle," said Dodgeball).  Although I stuck to water at that point, I was definitely up a little later than I had originally intended.

Saturday I had my friends Carrie and Brian over for brunch -- made a frittata, which is my favorite thing to make for brunch-time company.  Acting very decadent, we made mimosas, and even had a little caviar and sour cream on rye toasts.  We were all a little too hungover to really dive in to anything but the fritatta, however.  After brunch, I did a few errands, and then some quiet time on the couch before heading to the Black Table party at Slainte.  I certainly took it easy, and went to bed at a reasonable hour, but I still had a great time catching up with some of my favorite bloggers, and my non-blogger (a.k.a. "normal") friend David even stopped by to say hello for a while.

Tonight I'm going to the gym, eating some of whatever I end up whipping up, and then early to bed so I can get a jump start on the week -- have a lot to do and I need to be energized, refreshed, and ready to tackle it all.  Let the party begin.

Let's See How Quickly This is Taken Down

Bill Clinton Book My Life -- funny, but definitely lawsuit-inducing.

Moving to Brooklyn?

Apparently, for all of you out there who have been gunning for me to move to Brooklyn, there may be yet another reason for me to move out there. According to "The Sexual Organization of the City," (which is based on Chicago, but has been analyzed by the New York Post for NYC), some neighborhoods are "transactional" and others are "relational marketplaces." My 'hood? Transactional -- good for short-term non-committed relationships. Tell me about it. Basically, the world below 14th street, which is where I spend the majority of my social time, "attracts young, single people who spend the bulk of their time in local hangouts - bars, gyms, coffee shops, clubs." Park Slope and Carroll Gardens (neighborhoods in which I've thought about living in Brooklyn)? Relational. "These neighborhoods tend to be peopled with married or cohabiting couples, and their single friends tend to meet potential partners through already-committed mutual friends." The article and the book go on to say that there's no guarantee that a move to a relational neighborhood will guarantee a long-term relationship, so it's somewhat of a Catch-22 situation.

Hmm. Decisions, decisions. My current lease isn't up until September, and the thought of moving yet again makes me nauseous. It's not outside of the realm of possibility, however. What do you recommend? Should I move to Carroll Gardens in hope of finding love? Trade in the ability to walk to work for a long schlep on the F train and a boyfriend? Or stay in my centrally-located, Greenwich Village apartment, and live a life of singledom, surrounded by my extended social network of fellow "transactional" neighborhood folks? Any and all thoughts are welcome. Does your neighborhood help or hurt your chances of finding love?