Thursday, September 27, 2012


brooklyn is still a dream, in the way that i just can't understand why people still live in manhattan.
all of this orchestra strike business has sparked some brilliant conversation with my friends. i think i have the most brilliantist friends ever.
nothing store-bought makes the cut. not bread, not ricotta, not soup... 
{and this has yielded the best and doughiest focaccia and scallion/ginger/garlic challah.}
jolene is my alarm.
the oatmeal artist's peanut butter cookie baked oatmeal {or, since the recall, pumpkin cookie baked oatmeal} has been devoured by the doubled batch.
the stage is my office and it is only complete with a cupcake container on the trap stand that carries said baked oatmeal.
it takes a party with a shirtless man playing a violin concerto to get me to manhattan on a weekend.

it's a noisy office.

Wednesday, September 26, 2012

fair-weather frittata

the fair-weather jew that i am opted out of fasting this year.
so i made a frittata.
because i had time {for the first morning in way too long}, because there is nary an egg shortage in my kitchen, and because frittatas are the kind of thing that are just perfect for using up some about-to-go-bad veggies.
oh! and i had never made a frittata.
turns out i am a swell as fuck frittata maker!

the concoction i made this morning is loosely based on alice waters' recipe. kinda. not really.


olive oil
an onion, or two. chopped.
veggies {i used a tomato and a few handfuls of roommate spinach}
8 eggs
salt + pepper
a pinch of cayenne
4 cloves of garlic, chopped.
herbies {i used rosemary and thyme}
marinara, maybe
mustard, maybe


preheat oven to 350.
heat about two tablespoons of olive oil in an oven-proof pan over medium heat, add onion and cook until onions are soft and transparent. add veggies and cook for a few minutes. remove everything from the pan and set aside.
in a large bowl, whisk together the eggs, salt, pepper, cayenne, and garlic.
heat another two tablespoons in the pan over medium heat. add egg mixture. let it firm up a bit on the bottom. lift up the edges to let some of the liquidy part spill under and get some love as well. add the veggies on top and tilt the pan around a little so that the egg gets all up in em. sprinkle the herbies on top.
put her in the oven for 7-10 minutes, until the top firms up.
serve with marinara.
and the mustard is for if you burn yourself terribly like i did... because it's difficult to remember that a panhandle is that hot and because slathering a mustard on a burn really does make it better.

Monday, September 24, 2012

fall failures

when i want to feel like a failure, i make a hole-in-the-middle, then i take pictures of it, and then i let the pictures stare back at me with sad puppy blog-about-me eyes because it's like they know that i can't resist an egg portrait these days. what is the reason for this? what is so attractive about eggs? why do i keep trying to make a hole-in-the-middle even though i know that only mum and sometimes cracker barrel can make them perfectly? overnight me a hole-in-the-middle, mum, please.

why is there suddenly someone in my life who eats one and one half dozens of eggs each day?


Sunday, September 23, 2012

sunday funday

lately, when i haven't been sleeping or washing my hair or at work, i've been rehearsing for dog days or in traffic on the way to or from rehearsing for dog days. even though i'm pretty much in love with that opera {seriously, you guys, see it}, the rehearsal hours are not conducive to checking off the brooklyn-based tasks on my fun-genda, which has tripled in size since i moved here. 

so when today's rehearsal became an unrehearsal, or, a day off, mr. nfh and i immediately took to the road on our bikes {and my new bike seat! which cost the equivalent of two black label burgers but whatever} and ate brunch*, and then brunch again**, and then lunch***, and then kind of lunch again****. we made pumpkin risotto omgomgomgomgomg pumpkin season omg risotto season, and stopped at mast brothers for a little chocolate tasting. 

it was the best! we even tried on hats.


*bergen bagels has become my favorite for sunday salmon.
**because you should always judge a pancake by its title: parish hall's johnny cakes
***similarly, because you should always judge a sandwich by its title: saltie's scuttlebutt
****an emergency how-are-we-gonna-bike-up-this-hill granola bar?

Friday, September 21, 2012

for you, wherever you are.

i hate that you were taken from us in the middle of the night, so helpless and from your own home. 
i hate whoever did this, whoever got their smelly paws all over you, who yanked you from your spot in the world.
{i want to punch that person in the nose and go all glenbrook north 2003 on them.}
you're probably under some big smelly bum right now, maybe you're on a fixie :-(
but with all of my might, i will hope that you're in bike seat heaven on a pretty mustard trek allant or a cannondale supersix. perhaps you're under a bum that has just done pilates or is genetically engineered not to fart.
oh poor molly mobile bike seat, you were so good to me and i love you and i'll miss you forever and ever.

this one's for you, molly mobile seat:
 "we get away" by nfh

Tuesday, September 18, 2012

i spy...

{a rosh hashanah party aftermath}

i spy with my little eye...
the remnants of the best sweet potato chips in the world,
the salt and pepper shakers that mum and i painted for my first little apartment on a hot summer night about a zillion years ago,
oven mits covered in brisket fat,
roommate's patrick literature that will always be way over my head,
an empty olive oil bottle that was full just hours earlier,
a strainer and a cutting board that belonged to old roommate grace. oh, i miss me some grace!
apples and honey, some turnips that went unused, popsicle molds from the i-don't-know-where-these-go pile,
and a generic grocery store pepper mill because for some reason i still do not have one of these. {it's called a housewarming present, people?}

but as mum always says, 
"a messy kitchen is a happy kitchen!"


Monday, September 17, 2012

how to throw a rosh hashanah party

when but 1 1/2 of your guests are jewish
kneed bacon into the challah and wash it down with porkslap
or a spicy shiksa {one part gin + one part elderflower syrup + two parts manischevitz + a shake of tabasco + garnish with bacon}
don't be offended when no one eats the kugel...
be happy because it will make the perfect day-after breakfast.
there will be: "this is the first matzoh ball soup i've ever had,"
and: "this is the best matzoh ball soup i've ever had."
take very careful note of who said what, you will be pleasantly surprised.
leave the brussels sprouts and honey cake to the spatula queen,
and if rob brings candy corn, make a cocktail about it.
fresh ricotta + maple walnut gelato + creamed honey are a must.
so too is a brisket, especially if it nearly burns down the house.
when the guests get sleepy, that is your sign to start up the cotton candy machine.
and obviously, you should always end these things on the roof with a sweater, wonderfully silly people, a guitar, and the most beautiful music you ever did hear.
to 5773! 

Tuesday, September 11, 2012

morning magic

my mornings are typically spent at home: writing articles, studying music, editing photos, testing recipes. it's my little bit of playtime before i head to an office, and lately this has included more oatmeal than even a picky five-year-old could fathom.

but today i called in sick for my own morning. we'll call it an executive decision. i got out my favorite dishes {the egg cups from zaanse schaanse, the cheese board from amsterdam, the plate from *hehe* staten island}, stirred a bit of halva spread into my yogurt, and took the extra bit of time to sprinkle just the right amount of salt and pepper onto my medium boiled egg.

i'd say it was magic. the kind you can't plan. the kind that seems to be happening more and more these days. maybe it's the brooklyn air?

after a second {or third} espresso, i put on my sweater* to be on my way to manhattan, but not before stopping at a little bakery for half of a miche and a chocolate chip shortbread.


*someone gimme a barf bag, i could puke in excitement over this newly arrived sweater weather.

Sunday, September 9, 2012

recipe: the perfect pizza night


one fresh ricotta + caramelized onion + squash pizza {recipe below, kind of}
unlimited amounts of this: one part elderflower syrup + two parts roommate patrick's gin {sorry patrick, i owe you} + one green straw
the new stars album
late night giggles/everlasting secrets


1. bike over the brooklyn bridge, ad lib emergency peanut butter m & m breaks. 
2. dice up more squash than you think you need, toss it in olive oil + salt + sage, stick it in an oven set to a million degrees and forget about it until further notice.
3. chop up two onions from roommate megan's brother's farm, stick em on the stove to caramelize. pour an elderflower cocktail.
4. make the ricotta: heat a gallon of whole milk {plus heavy cream for bonus points} to 180 degrees, add the juice of two lemons. strain in a cheese cloth. add salt/pepper/herbs/olive oil to taste.
5. discuss something ironic or obscure, try not to wake roommate megan.
6. perhaps by now the squash is done roasting. if yes, skip to step #8; if no, go on to #7.
7. pour another drink, discuss what you would do if you won the lottery, leave the room for 60 seconds and then return so that you can fully enjoy the smells coming out of the kitchen.
8. assemble pizza in this order, from bottom to top: dough -> olive oil -> salt & pepper -> lots of garlic -> onions -> ricotta -> parmesan -> squash
9. bake at 450 degrees for the amount of time that it takes to plan the ultimate theoretical birthday dinner party {approximately 14 minutes}.
10. demolish.


Thursday, September 6, 2012

plots to take over the fall

this year's halloween costume rhymes with my name. if you guess what it is, you get a high five. 

in working on a piece about oatmeal for the violet's fall issue, and feeling like a bit of failure, i discovered the oatmeal artist. it is pure gold.

soon it will be leg warmer and risotto weather and your girl will not look back.

does anyone care about anyone else's opinions about politics? or do people only want to talk about how they feel and agree with the other people who feel the same way?

apple pickin, nose pickin, sufjan stevens ballet!

i am counting down the days until dog days. also relearning the 100 pages of vibraphone notes and it is the most fun in the practice room i've had since famicom.

anyone got any good australian licorice recipes?


Wednesday, September 5, 2012


this weekend we became amplified versions of our twelve-year-old selves as we ate grilled cheese and tomato soup and bopped along to ben folds. in between the non existent reveille and an infinite curfew we learned krav maga and did flips on the trapeze. we even performed a flashmob. soccer games, volleyball games, drinking games... and let's not forget those killer sweet dance moves and the s'mores competitions that you won every time. if this is what grown ups do, who needs a childhood? 
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