Tastes like chicken...

Last night Roy and I went to Benihana for dinner.

Now, before you just die of laughter, I LOVE this place and it’s a little piece of my childhood.

Most of my birthdays were spent at that restaurant (or it’s imitation sister restaurant in Westport, Sakura) watching a total stranger toss knives into the air.



Not surprisingly, Roy had never been and my unrestrained excitement for our dinner was probably frightening him. I tried to explain to him that as a creature of habit, Benihana holds a very dear spot in my heart. Not only is it a place where I spent most of my birthdays after 3rd grade, it was a magical place (much like my beloved Camp Arowhon), where the world just seemed to stay the same. In this case everything was guaranteed to taste and smell the same. Kind of like camp, I guess.


All I can say is, it was amazing. Roy loved it. Was in fact, surprised by the deliciousness of the food. I was in heaven, and it was magical to be able to share the experience.

Maybe next year I’ll take him to Arowhon Pines….

Stay tuned.

life is precious

I went to my great aunt's funeral on Sunday and most likely will be attending my aunt's funeral this weekend.

It got me thinking about the importance of happiness. How we scurry away at our jobs, racing to catch that carrot just beyond our grasp. Despite all the distractions or promises of love or happiness, we seem blind and jaded, only focused on how to further our own ambition.

It made me realize how lucky I am. How wonderful my family is, my love, and my life. The people I saw last weekend were (and are) grieving, but not for the deceased, for themselves.

My great aunt was a firecracker, a yoga enthusiast for over 30 years, a dancer, artist, poet and incredible mother. She had 3 VERY different children in every way, and it was her nurturing and strength that helped them become and remain who they are today.

I hope to leave a legacy like that for myself. I hope to be able to share in a life well lived and well-loved. This is what is important.

This is what matters.

Please understand, I don’t mean to be morbid. I am just taking things in stride and enjoying a much needed jolt in perspective.

A big F'ing deal

To further highlight how wondrous the snow is....

People are losing their minds with excitement.

(click here)

Let it snow.

IT'S SNOWING....
Let me get it out of the way that I am deliriously happy. This morning when I heard the SCREEEEECHING of the snow plowing making my blood curdle, it was nice to see that the streets were indeed covered in white.

I jumped out of bed, thrilled that I could wear my GIANT SORREL boots and headed to work.
While solemn New Yorkers trudged single file through the shoveled parts of the sidewalk, I leaped and kicked snow in every direction. My smile was ear to ear.
I am not sure what it is about the snow that makes me into such a weirdo. But, I must have been a Polar Bear in a former life. I wait all year for days like this.

I am beyond happy.

One point of information though....

An open letter to whomever out there likes to use an UMBRELLA in the snow, a note from little ‘ole me:

YOU LOOK RETARDED…IT”S SNOW, IT FALLS EVERY WHICH WAY. LOSE THE UMBRELLA. And if you’re a guy with an umbrella in the snow, buddy, there’s not much more I can say besides—grow a pair.

*sigh*

That’s all.

Nasty Girls

(my most delicious chocolate cheesecake, btw)

Look, I don’t mean to be nasty.

Ok, usually I do.

But there’s something I gotta get off my chest. What is the deal with the bathroom? If you gotta use the toilet for something a little more “significant” then ladies, I beg you, what’s the big deal?

When I go in there’s usually some more cramped up woman curled up in the stall next to me, waiting for me to leave so they can be relieved.

Give it up lady. And forget about it when there’s more than one woman “answering the call”, it’s like a game of chicken.

The bathroom is WHERE. SH*T. GOES. DOWN. (quite literally). So please, for the love of Pete, get over yourself and just let it go.

Eat Me

I made the BEST cupcakes this weekend.

They were from the newest book in my growing collection; “Vegan Cupcakes take over the World.”

Rosewater Pistachio cupcakes with a pinch of cardamom. OMG. They were moist, fragrant and damn delicious. We were having brunch with the lovely Maureen and Nathaniel, so the majority had to be saved for them.

Stupid manners….stupid ME for making them the night before. I swear neither of us got much sleep knowing those babies were just sitting there, frosted in all their glory, glistening in the fridge.

*sigh* they were so decadent, and so dairy and meat free!

PS
Also made Pita…yeah, that’s right. And they were PitaLicious.

(video is of the dough rising...big deal in my house, ok? BIG F'ING DEAL)

My grandmother is a goddess.

You may have read my posts already about this amazing woman, but I can't sing her praises enough. Last weekend I spent some time with her, and I realized that many of my "eccentricities" can be traced directly to her. (not all of them, Dad...don't worry). There is so much to learn though, and I have taken to video-taping her each time we meet.

This time we went grocery shopping, home decor shopping, gossiped, ate lunch, and enjoyed each other's company.

Looking into her freezer I took stock of what I was going to bring back to Brooklyn and ultimately, Roy's belly.

This is what her freezer looks like. A veritable vault of goodness. (this was taken AFTER I looted and selected some treats for myself). Everything is labeled with the item name, date created, and often times, intended recipient.

My grandmother will be 93 this summer and she constantly tells me that she cooks all the time because she doesn't have anything else to do. I don't buy it. I know that she loves to make and distribute her treats to friends and relatives. In fact, much of our time together each week is spent driving to one of her friends houses to deliver a much treasured container of chopped liver.

I have always LOVED her liver. It's amazing. It was not until recently, however, that I really learned to appreciate her "muffins". In my family, people make fun of them and have for years. They're homemade bran muffins, and because grandma Lill is a health nut, she uses applesauce instead of oil or something nuts. I think there is soy milk in them, or super skim or something weird.

She used to pawn them off on us and they'd go uneaten--more accurately untasted--until they'd be tossed or fed to the dogs.

Roy was actually the first person on record to physically take them and also consume them. I followed suit and am now a very big fan.


But I am not really going to tell anyone--except you, but who are you going to tell--because I'm keeping these babies for myself.

(this is a video of her making our lunch...smoked salmon on fresh bagels, with onions, capers, tomato and cream cheese--she recommends Tofutti):

No deliveries, no way.

Snot funny, snot funny at all.

*self-portrait

I got sick this weekend. This weekend when Roy and I went to Boston to visit Erez, Hila and Lida.

I got sick.

A little back story here for you, I've inherited the worlds' worst sinuses from the worlds' greatest mother.

Sunday night, when I should have been out watching THE game or in the hot tub on the roof of our AMAZING B&B...I was and am STILL a congested mess.

Let me set the scene:

• It feels like my ears need to pop, but I can't pop them.
• My sinuses under the tops of my cheeks feels like someone is pushing on them, someone who might be a hippopotamus.
• My nose is full and won't be blown, just won't give it up.
• I cannot, under any circumstance, stop sneezing.
• Because of the above mentioned sneezing, my throat is RAW.

So it's a pretty attractive visual. I've been surrounded by balled up Kleenex in 3 states in 3 days. I am grumbling under my breath, not brushing my hair, and am drinking more tea than Roy.

Ugggghhh, make it stop!

*this is what I feel like