Cookbook Wish List
I love collecting cookbooks and I’m a sucker for the gorgeous photos. Here are a few that I really want to add to my collection.
- Food & Wine profiled Su-Mei Yu’s The Elements of Life in last month’s issue and I’m intrigued by the notion of combining Buddhist principles of cooking with the four components for a balanced life-Earth, Wind, Fire and Air.
- Roahl Dahl’s granddaughter can cook. And model, and be a television presenter, and be married to Jamie Cullum … not such a bad life there, Sophie.
- The highly anticipated book by Chef David Chang, published in the fall of 2009, is still on my wish list. While I’m a little late to the Momofuko party, I want this one.
- Thomas Keller’s newest cookbook on his Napa Valley Ad Hoc has a family-style focus that screams entertaining on the menu to me. Plus, I hear his fried chicken is last-meal worthy.
- Because you have to round out the meal with something sweet, I would love to try out some recipes in John Barricelli’s new release based on the delights from his Connecticut bakery.
- And last, but not least, Three Sheets cocktail book rounds out the list … loaded with drinking games, recipes and historical references sure to take you to from just plain annoying to know-it-all at status at your next get-together. The best part, a guy named Zane wrote it.
Reality TV Soapbox
In December, James Wolcott wrote an incredible piece for Vanity Fair about the dumbing down of American culture due to the influx of reality television.
That article got me thinking of the Andy Warhol quote; “in the future everyone will be famous for 15 minutes.” So, here we are in 2010, with the MTV, CW, VH1, and E!, lineup of what television executives should be calling 15-minutes-of-fame programming.
The reality in my life is this; I’m the wife of a television and film writer and producer, and I’m about to get on my soapbox about the state of television in America. I’ve come up with this notion … reality TV is the new television “reel”-the new stepping stone for any sort of career in entertainment. Reality TV standouts parlay these vixens, airheads, and otherwise nobodies into other jobs-Kendra Wilkinson, Melissa Rycroft, Kyle Brandt, Lauren Conrad-line them up.
Because what we do know is that Kendra starred on Girls Next Door and it catapulted her into a spin-off show, a husband and a baby; Melissa went from being “blindsided” on The Bachelor’s “After the Rose” ceremony to a gig not just Dancing with the Stars, but as a special correspondent for Entertainment Tonight and 20/20. Go a few years back to when The Real World was in Chicago and Kyle was on it, he then got a reoccurring role on Days of our Lives. And who could forget LC, who starred on Laguna Hills as a mere 17-year-old high school senior, wham bam, now she’s a New York Times bestseller and clothing designer.
It’s as if it’s all a sociology experiment of he who puts themselves out there the most gets a bigger deal, to the nth degree. But, isn’t life kind of like that? He who wows the interviewer, get the job? He who writes the most niche/compelling blog, gets the book deal, then lands at HGTV…hi there Dooce. Or he who competes in a reality cooking show gets a three-show deal on that same network, then a hosting job on NBC this spring … fist pump Guy Fieri and your meal-ticket, Food Network.
By George
Kelli Fletcher & Allison Beale of George PR
A good publicist can be a journalist’s best friend. A bad one, my worst nightmare.
I “met” Allison Beale last year while trying to get an interview with a company she represented for danapop. She coordinated that interview, and then many others to follow. So, after many emails, interviews and a few music suggestions later … we’ve struck up a bit of friendship all without having ever met each other in person.
And for the record, she’s just about the furthest thing from a nightmare I’ve ever “met.” Her company, George PR turns 5 this month, so in honor of that and all the great things she and her sister Kelli do, here’s a little Q&A with the girls from George in which we talk Skype, sisters, cities, and of course, spin…
George PR, may this be your best year yet!
Tied to a Title
Recently, my mind has been lost in thoughts of the next decade. I think it’s mostly because I’ve now been in Atlanta for ten years. It’s made me sort of want to reevaluate things on a life level, including the city I call my home. When I moved out here in 2000, I held a lot of titles-college graduate, daughter to a mother and father, single, scared, video journalist (a.k.a. the most entry-level position you can have at CNN), and Midwesterner (just to name a few).
I’ve still got that degree, my father died within 9 months of me moving here, I met my husband at CNN, my title changed from V.J. to producer by the time I was 26, and now, I no longer consider myself from the Midwest since the South is the longest I’ve ever lived in one spot. So here I am, examining the past decade and all my titles. Because as much as I hate to admit it, I care about those sorts of things, just as most of us do.
We all have them. But, what do they mean exactly? Are they simply just boxes people want to put us in or the frames around our life that fit other people’s mold of what they want us to be, or what we might call ourselves? Sometimes these titles actually fit with who we want to be, but often that’s not the case.
Going after what I want is never the issue with me. My husband describes my approach (lovingly, I think, err hope) as a bull in a china-shop. I’m not particularly proud of that. If there’s something within sight, I generally go after it and beat it into submission (although pretty sure said husband was not acquired that way).
The Reunion
Just over a year ago, while walking our dog, my husband and I witnessed something horrific. We saw a stray Shepherd get hit by a speeding car. The noise of the crash was awful and the pain this dog was experiencing was dreadful to watch.
Before the dog got hit, he’d been haunting us for months. We’d see him wandering around the neighborhood, cold, unloved and appearing miserable. The night he was hit, we were actually reaching for what we thought was a collar. We’d finally managed to get close enough to him to look for a tag … it was a choke chain with nothing on it. As soon as we discovered this, he jumped into the street at the same time a car was driving down it.
It truly was an accident. Nobody that saw it would’ve ever faulted the driver; in his or her defense, the dog came out of nowhere. But, they stopped a few feet past where they hit the dog, sat for a minute or so, then drove off. My husband sat with the dog in the freezing January while I got our dog home and frantically called animal control.
The days following became a flurry of chain emails pleading for someone to take this dog on, a visit to animal control, a lot of crying, and just all around sadness about what we’d seen.
Then, Nan and Cheley came along. They agreed to foster the dog (which Fulton County Animal Control had named Boscoe), and post his leg surgery (he was scheduled for an amputation). And now, here we are. This unloved dog that no one really knew beyond being a stray has changed us all a little bit.
A few weeks ago I received this email:
I thought you would be interested to know that after several months of fostering we knew we couldn’t part with our beloved Boscoe. He has become a part of the family and we officially adopted him. You probably would not believe what a sweet, gentle, good-natured soul he is…I just thought you would like to know that you saved a very, very special dog and he is absolutely loved and adored in his forever home.
And just this past weekend we had a little dog reunion with Boscoe, allowing him meet our dog under better circumstances. The whole experience reminded us that all this started with one email to help one animal. But, without that moment we would not have had the opportunity to meet Boscoe, Nan, and Cheley, who, in the end, have given us all so much.
Doppelgänger Smoppelgänger
As many Facebookers so eloquently put it-not every brunette looks like Kate Beckinsale. Natch.
A couple of weeks back Facebook decided to make it Doppelgänger week. Grr. I didn’t participate.
Reason? I always get frustrated with these sorts of things because my girlfriends and sisters get compared to really gorgeous celebrities.
Like these:
And, me? Well, here’s who I’ve been told I look like:
So, lemme get this straight … an 8-year old precocious tomboy with the old-lady name of Ramona, a celebrity who often looks as if she just finished sucking on a lemon, and the mousy daughter on Life Goes On.
Awesome.
But, celebrity analysis always wants to put me in a different category (err nationality) all together with these as my top matches.
I give you Lucy Lui and Lisa Ling … um gorge, but I’m not Chinese-American. Although, admittedly I get mistaken for other nationalities often–Chinese being the most common, as well as, anywhere in the Pacific Island region. Post beach vacation I apparently look like a native from Guam.
My twin sister did a fellowship in China several years back and when she showed her flatmates a picture of our family the first response was her friend pointing at me saying, “She one of us.” Screw you Scottish ancestry. You ask, “Am I Chinese?” “Why yes, yes, I am.” But apparently one with a penchant for tart citrus and 10-speed bicycles.
Postcards from Tuscany
This week’s travel piece is another postcard. It’s from a guest blogger who’s posted on these pages before–Emily Gold from Paper Cake Scissors. Here’s her postcard from Tuscany loaded with winding roads, rolling hills, rich history, and of course plenty of pasta and vino!
Gustare!
Italy was never at the top of my travel wish list until my mom told me that she and my dad were considering a visit over the holidays. The conversation with my husband over whether or not to go was brief, leading to a quick call back to my parents to say YES. I didn’t regret our decision for a minute, especially when, two hours after landing in Rome, we were already exploring the Pantheon. We focused on Tuscany except for one hop across the border into the Umbrian city of Perugia and a brief cruise through Rome during a five-hour layover on the way to Florence. And yes, my parents and husband and I all got along, and we had a very memorable holiday captured in hundreds and hundreds of pictures.
The Almost-Order
My husband says that when we go out to eat, more often than not, I’m a better orderer than he is. I’m pretty proud of that. We’re both fairly adventurous eaters (bar a horrific sea scallop sushi experience that had me gagging and spitting a half-chewed wad of nastiness into a linen napkin only to beg my sister to dispose of it in the restaurant bathroom because I couldn’t bear to look at it again). So, aside from raw scallops, we’re good on the “try anything” food front.
Restaurant ordering can be tricky; the only exception for me is in places touting specialties. In my experience, if a place has the gumption to brag about something they do really well, chances are they do. These are the sorts of restaurants where the meals that boast a sign outside like “our chicken is the shit” (true story in Costa Rica-we did eat at a restaurant with that very sign out front and it was the aforementioned, shit).
Recently though I’ve gotten off my menu game and tried things I normally wouldn’t have ordered, but they’ve become the most memorable things about the meal. Making me almost ashamed to keep touting myself as the official best orderer in my house (even though it’s still ringing true).
These could be the family style night out with friends where you’re forced out of your food rut and experience all sorts of goodness at the table that you never would’ve allowed on your plate (I’m talking to you Parish BBQ Shrimp).
My favorite almost-order was an accident (they almost always are) when our waiter screwed my meal up more than once and heard me under my breath trying to convince my husband to order the coconut cake for dessert. My husband’s chocolate obsession won out, but the waiter made good by bringing us both. That cake I write all about here, and let me tell you my memory of its deliciousness has not wavered.
Because those almost-orders, much like life, really are the seven layers of frosting on the heavenly coconut cake.
The Flip Side of Coupling
Series: What Was Ours by ceramic artist Ann Hazels
I’m fairly certain I’m not alone in my relationship metaphor in which one person is generally driving the train while the other person is passenger. In my marriage this is an accurate assessment, but who’s at the helm is constantly changing. But, in my parent’s relationship, for instance, my father was the sole driver, my mother, sitting passenger … for 33 years. And it worked for them.
The point of who’s driving is that I’ve noticed something with my girlfriends. Who they are in their relationship may not be who they are when they are with friends (myself included).
Need a valid example? My best friend and I cannot figure out what to order when we’re together and inevitably will end up with a bottle of wine (err who are we kidding?), a cheese plate, a bowl Marcona almonds, and a hangover from hell. But, I assure you–neither of us is this indecisive in our everyday life and relationships.
Travel Identity
The Seattle Public Library
I’ve always loved to travel; maybe it’s the Sagittarius in me. But, lately I’ve come to the realization that we travel a lot. And I’m not exaggerating when I say a lot. Last year, on average, our travel worked out to be almost one trip a month-and almost all of it was to visits to family and friends. Most likely this has to do with the fact that my husband and I both come from large families (four kids in each of our families, plus nieces and nephews all around) and have close friends in our hometowns we still regularly keep in touch with. So between weddings, graduations, baby showers, birthdays, family vacations, and holidays, being out of town often is a bit of an understatement for us.
Charleston, South Carolina
This year though, I’m trying to find a balance with the travel. Because in 2009-despite a recession and job loss-here’s where we went last year (in no particular order):
Oklahoma City, Oklahoma
Cincinnati, Ohio
Santa Cruz, California
Birmingham, Alabama
New Orleans, Louisiana
Seattle, Washington
Vancouver, BC
Siesta Key, Florida
Charleston, South Carolina
Destin, Florida
