The GOOP

So while I was waiting for Rhapsody in Blue to download from the iTunes store the other night, I did a little tinkering about on the Internet looking for other things that would make me nice and inspired for my trip to NYC. Instead I found this. UGH.
Ugh so much!
Why is GOOP so annoying?
And why are GOOP and Jay-Z friends? Is Jay-Z a dickhead? I always thought that he was the opposite of a dickhead, but maybe that's just because I want him to be and have been ignoring the signs.
So many things about this annoy me. I guess it would be safe to say that everything she says and the way she says it annoys me, starting with the first words of the first line: "Mr. Carter (aka Jay- Z)".
Please!
She might as well have written
Dear World, I know Jay-Z! We are friends. We are such good friends that I have a nickname for him. It is his actual name, but, like, the most formal version of his name. Do you get it? It's so funny!
But it gets more annoying later, when she says "As someone who has walked through museums with you, eaten with you, heard music with you, I know firsthand how creativity in all areas lifts your consciousness. Do you feel that as a cultural figure of importance, it is part of your responsibility to share what inspires you?".
What can I say about that, apart from the contents of some post-it notes that a work friend gave me one time .

(I know, how hilarious are those post-its. They are too special to use.)

But back to GOOP. Seriously, who the fuck does she think she is? Again with the I'm friends with Jay-Z, but now she follows up with a some lame justification for her lame website disguised as admiration for her special friend. WTF times infinity, right?
I'm afraid Jay-Z sounds like a pretty big tool also.
Par example, when he responds to GOOP's question about how "the f " he became so cool with "I'm around great women, starting with my mom. Women keep men cool. The hotter the chick, the cooler the guy...that sounds like a really bad rap line."
Yes it does you knob-end, yes it does. Much like I've got 99 problems but the bitch ain't one, you tool.

Of course I then went and had a look at the Jay-Z website, including the equally annoying Jay-Z interview with GOOP which I'll let you discover in your own time. The website is fine, but I'm pretty sure it's not "incredible". Is having the content of a magazine, but up on a website, incredible? If so, you are letting me down, Internet.

the abject and the abject

I love eggplant. I love it so much. The way it gets all caramelly and delicious. Shit, I love it. I love mushrooms too and so I guess what I am saying is that the eggplant and mushroom thing you ate is very, very appealing to me.

You know what is not appealing to me. A caesarean. I just can not come at asking someone to cut me open. To be perfectly honest birth au naturel is incredibly unappealing to me also. Oh god. I mean that shit is super, super painful. Traumatic in fact. Ugghhhh. Really traumatic. But still I would go with that whenever possible. I think. Now. That I am not actually facing that decision. I hope Lil does some good research before making any decisions, cause I'm pretty sure that epidural is a very common anaesthetic for caesars too. I guess the fact is that no matter how you do it, some pretty unpleasant stuff is going to have to happen for you to get your baby out.

And while I guess I should now address the royal wedding I just feel like I can't go on without addressing that total gross out by AB. Dude, that is some gross shit. But I guess I am kind of impressed by her dedication to food. I mean I thought I loved food. I don't like to see anything go to waste. I'll eat the food off another person's plate. But out of someones mouth! As Chickpea said to me recently, "gross me the fuck out!" And also a little bit, "word!"

So LB asked me the other day if you were coming over to watch the royal wedding. I was all, "What do you think this is, the Oscars?!" Surprisingly, I have no problems missing this wedding. I think a run down and some pictures tomorrow are going to satisfy me. Even though I do kind of love the Prince, especially since LB's mother met him recently. Yep, my mother-in-law (sans law) was talking to the Prince. See!

The elegant and the abject

Here is the wrap up from last night's dinner with Lil, AB and Chambo at Izakaya Den.

Lil is pregnant
This, we already knew, but it was our first dinner as a foursome since she broke the news so we had a little celebration. Apparently she had been to the obstetrician today and the matter of whether she would like a cesarean or a vaginal birth was discussed. Lil advised that she is considering both, but wants complete assurance that if she had a vaginal birth they could give her an epidural that would last the whole time, and that it would be totally pain free. This from a woman who has a pathological fear of injections. We explained how epidurals are administered. I told her that my Mum reckons that the needle they put in her spine was the size of a pencil. When I was little and would hear this story, I always imagined that the pencil would be massive, like this.

Lil went quiet. AB noted that she never really thinks about the pain when she thinks about giving birth. Lil said "I do. I think about it all the time. I don't want a bar of it. Haven't you ever done a really big poo? It kills!"

AB said "I know, but then you feel so relieved."

We ate this delicious eggplant and mushroom thing

I don't know exactly what was in that orange topping but it was nice and spicy. The dish was served cold, in that good way.

Chambo advised she wants total privacy to watch the royal wedding
Chambo is going to her Mother's house to watch it so there will be no distractions and she can totally focus. Those Chambos love the royals. I think Mrs Chambo even met the Queen once. Anyway, she asked us all what we were doing.
I casually advised that because Pickle and Minderbinder are having a going away party tonight, I wouldn't be watching the royal wedding. I hadn't said that out loud to anyone and as soon as I did, I realised how badly I wanted to watch the royal wedding, and how disappointed I am to be missing it. I kind of love the royals a little bit. Its my dirty shame. As is the fact that I like to watch movies like Eat Pray Love at the cinema, and get really disappointed when I miss them and have to watch them on DVD. Anyway, no royal wedding for me. Such is life, as the tattoo on Ben Cousins' stomach always says. I'm sure I can just watch the replay on Saturday.

AB did a gross thing
We ordered the ox tongue, which was served in thin, matchbox shaped slices topped with finely shredded spring onion. Lil looked a little queasy when the waitress said it was ox tongue. This is very unlike Lil, but I guess she is pregnant. AB, Chambo and I dove in and sure enough it was super yum. Have some! We chanted to Lil while shoveling more of it in to our mouths. Lil timidly picked up a slice and placed it on her tongue, then closed her mouth as if to chew. I guess she had a change of heart, because straight away she leaned forward and spat it out on to her plate. We sat there in silence for a second or two because that's not something you see every day. Then AB stretched out her chopsticks, picked up the discarded ox tongue and popped it straight in her mouth. Girl hates to see good food go to waste.

New York Chippy

Believe me when I tell you Mate, I plan to act on each and every one of those recommendations. Thank you very much. I have already acted on one, by looking at the Brother Kane testimonials. What a pack of weirdos. I can't tell you how incredible a chip would have to be for me to want to write to the manufacturer. Having said that, I'll keep eating chips, just in case I find one that is precisely that incredible.

So speaking of food (like I need to take this rare opportunity that we are speaking about food to raise this point...) Mum, Uncle Gary and I have been invited to my second cousin Robyn's house in Long Island for a BBQ on 7 May. Robyn and I have never met, but we are friends on facie and she looks like a real all-American girl. I don't want to invade her privacy by stealing one of her actual photos, so here is a picture of a lady who looks kind of like her:

Actually, that's Farrah Fawcett. Who coincidentally died the last time I was in NYC. But she does kind of look like Robyn. Pretty, right?

Anyway, she emailed me to ask if there was any food I was particularly looking forward to eating when in America. Isn't that a great question? I wanted to say all the food, Robyn! All the food!
But I've never met her and thought it might be inappropriate. In the end I said a whole bunch of things about how I would be happy to eat whatever she served up (which is totally true), but I do tend to associate American BBQs with smokey ribs. Do you think I should have shut up after the first part? It's just that I was worried that it might be my only shot to have BBQ ribs and you know how I love meat on a bone.

I also want to eat grits, but I don't think you serve them at a BBQ. I think they are a breakfast food akin to porridge, but also kind of like polenta. Doesn't that sound fantastic?
I can't wait for this holiday.

At the risk of talking of nothing but food…

Please remember to eat the following when in NYC:

Apple cider donuts. If you can find them. I was so lucky; hungry and cold and walking past the green market at Union Square one day I just thought I’d have a closer look at what was on offer at the various stalls. And then there on the table of an innocent looking apple stall I saw apple cider donuts. I’d been thinking for a long time about making them after seeing this recipe. (Shit, just looking at that page for 2 seconds when I went to get that link has made me wonder why the hells I am not eating that doughie right now!) And then I bought them. And then they were everything I’d imagined. Maybe more. These were actually the only sweet treat I ate in USA that were not super sweet. The only sweet I truly and thoroughly enjoyed. I will cross my fingers for you mate, so that you too can find an apple cider donut.

A Shake Shack burger.

Oh, fuck, the other day I was thinking about these and I practically became frenzied trying to figure out how to make the cheese-stuffed portobello mushroom from the SS ‘shroom burger and (also the shack stack for meat eaters). These are so good. Even this guy knows it.

You should probably get a shake there too. Even though they were way too sweet for my tastes, and I was there in the middle of freezing February, and twice when we ate at SS we had to sit outside (at the outdoor only Manhattan Square Park location), I bought a shake every time. It’s the way they talk about the shakes and ice cream on the website. It was freaking intoxicating. Lucky for you I think they may have changed their website since then.

And jalapeño chips of course. In preferential order from best to worst:

These had a special tanginess that made them different to all other jalapeño chips.

These had a pure deliciousness and jalapeñoness that remains special to my heart.

These ones were also delicious.

These last ones are Dirty brand.

Do you wonder why someone would call there chip brand dirty? I do. I guess it is meant to have some kind of hilarious hard core appeal. I don’t get it. Also they are shit.

And try hot sauce flavour if you get a chance.

But, Mate, if you don't believe me about how delicious these Brother Kane hot sauce chips are here are some testimonials.

Wow, it sure sounds like I ate a lot of shit while I was in NYC. Well, I guess I did. But I also ate some good stuff. But mostly I cooked that for myself. Or bought salad from Whole Foods or had a perfectly good sandwich at some perfectly good sandwich joint. But you don’t need my help to find that stuff.

Probably my favourite lentil accompaniment

Shit. I want to eat the shit out of those lentils. They sound so good. You know what else is good? A little trick I picked up from Stephanie. And then betterfied all by myself by accident.



You see this one time I was making her dahl recipe. She suggests that you fry oil and cumin seeds in a fry pan and then pour that over the dahl. But also fry onions until dark and serve that on the lentils too. YUM right? So anyway this one time I was doing all that but I was making something of an Indian feast so the cumin and onions were ready before anything else, but I thought it would be nice to keep them warmish so I put them all in a little bowl tucked to one side of the griller where I was grilling some tandoori mushrooms thinking it would keep the cumin and onions warm without doing any cooking. But Mate! I was wrong. And in the best way. The heat from the grill gave the onions AND the cumin seeds this beautiful crunchy caramelly extra deliciousness. Mate, you should do this TONIGHT!

Meanwhile, sure sounds like a nice afternoon, just you and Don Draper. I want to watch more Mad Men, but LB only gets into comedies. But he did get into Dexter. Maybe if I can just show him Mad Men he will come around. Sadly I think the lure of the Hammster won't be a draw card. Usually I just have to pretend there are no handsome men in a show, but then, sometimes it slips out that the man is handsome and LB is all "WTF?! Is that why we are watching this?" and I am all "No ways!"

To finish of this post I thought it would be nice to try and find a picture of Michael C Hall and the Hammster together. And then post it. I could not find such a picture. I guess unsurprisingly. But my search did bring up this. I have no idea why, but I still thought it would be a nice end to the MSC day.

Probably India's favourite lentil recipe.

In an effort to simplify my life over the few remaining days before I go to NYC, I spent yesterday afternoon cooking something to eat for dinner each night before I go. I took the recipe from this book:

It belongs to my housemate, Rumpleslutzkin, and is pretty much his favourite cookbook. Rumpy makes a curry from this book every Monday night, and they are consistently delicious. I oughtta know, I've had the good fortune of tasting quite a few. Every Monday we go through a little pantomime where I say something like "oh hi Rumpy, what's for dinner?" and he opens the curry book and shows me what he's making and says there will be plenty left over if I want some. Then I laugh and shake my head and say thank you, but I couldn't possibly, I'm having blah blah, and mooch about the kitchen making then eating this blah blah. I do this because we both know that cooking curry takes a long time, and I usually get a little (read: totally) anxious (read: hysterical) if I don't get a feeding by 8pm. So I have my dinner and do my dishes and then get out of everyone's way until they are serving up, at which point I appear in the kitchen and silently take down the small bowl and place it in front of Rumpy while he silently fills it up and then we all eat our dinner and everyone acts like it's normal that I am eating a whole other meal with them.



Anyway, based on the deliciousness of the currys from this book, I thought I would look for a dahl recipe of some sort to be my dinner solution between now and NYC. I settled on something called Black Lentils, basically because of this awesome description:
"Probably India's favorite lentil recipe, this northern specialty features in all Indian restaurants of any standing. Rich, creamy, earthy, musky and fragrant all at the same time, it's one of the most wonderful dishes you could ever come across."
Yes please!
In addition to being one of the most wonderful dishes you could ever come across, it is very simple and does not require millions of ingredients or complicated techniques. It is spiced with chilli powder, garam masala, black and green cardamom pods and fenugreek leaves. The other ingredients are urid lentils, ginger, garlic, tomato paste, sugar, oil, butter and cream.
I know.
Oil AND butter AND cream.
But it is one of the most wonderful dishes you can ever come across! What's a girl to do?

Anyway, I scampered off to Aurora spice shop on Nicholson Street to get the special urid lentils and fenugreek leaves that I needed. What a great shop it is, readers. You must all remember them when you have spice needs. The shopkeeper and I had a lovely conversation. Did you know that back when Aurora was established, it was one of the only Indian spice shops in Melbs? People would come from far and wide to get their Indian spices there. Now, there are Indian spice shops all over Melbourne and not so many people come. So please go. They are so nice.

Back to the lentils. I soaked them overnight and then boiled for an hour until tender.

An hour is a lot of time to kill, so I did this:

I guess spending all that time with Don Draper took my mind of cooking a little, because I forget to take any photos of what followed until it was time to add the butter, which is the second last step. But honestly, the recipe couldn't be any easier. You basically start by frying cardamom pods and a bay leaf in oil until they crackle a little, then add the other ingredients one by one, giving them all a little bit of time to fry before you add the next. This leads to the formation of a rich red curry paste which looked fantastic but I can't show you because I was thinking about this:

Next, I added the lentils and their cooking water to the paste and mixed it all together. Then it was time for the butter and I remembered I should be taking some photos.
Even though I took a photo of the butter, I don't want to show you because it looks like a lot and I don't want to upset you/remind myself. The last step was to add the cream. Again, I took a photo, but who needs to know.

I was disappointed with how uninspiring the final product looked:

Geez Black Lentils, make a bit of an effort why don't you.
But as soon as I had my first mouthful, I realised that the joke was on my eyeballs. It is, hands down, the most delicious curry I have ever made. It is spicy in that deep, satisfying way where you don't really taste it at first but it builds and builds and before you know it your mouth is having a total heat party. Even though it is full of butter and cream it tastes light, but so very satisfying. I polished off a serve in the medium bowl in about 3.5 minutes. I can't wait to eat it again tonight.

Not as good as yesterday

Mate, your things are so nice. Starting with your dinner last night! Obviously I don't dig on roast beef, rare or otherwise, but roast potatoes! Beetroot and goats cheese salad! Horseradish sauce! Break me of a piece of that! YUM! I actually had a nice dinner too. I made super garlicy garlic bread and pasta with small cubes of roast eggplant and cherry toms all mixed through with some ajvar and superhot ajvar. It was actually delicious.

I am jealous of your relationship with your local produce providers. The butchers in my neighbourhood never respect me because obviously I only go in to buy food for Doggy and I buy the cheapest thing they have. So I guess our relationships are never going to go anywhere. But I felt like the guy in the fruit shop the other day really made an effort to say "have a nice day" to me. You know. I was all packed up and on my way, but he really kind of said it like he wanted me to have a nice day. Or at least hear that he'd said it. I guess it wasn't as moving as the interaction you had last night.

Anyways, you have some nice things in your kitchen. I can undertand your love of all those things you showed me. Especially the flowered pot. What a great size. And a great flower motif, that would remind anyone of their grandma (right?) and so nice that you have it because your grandma shopped at CNW for you rather than the more convenient Tuckerbag! I also understand your childhood love of goods in excahange for tokens. To me, in my childhood, I think I also saw this as something magical, and definitely something that happened in other people's houses, like white bread or mini packs of chips in your school lunch.

I have some nice things in the kitchen, but sadly I recently lost one of my favourite pots. It was basically this pot:



I have to use a tiny image from the internet because sadly I never took a photo of my special little guy. The other day I was putting it away and the lip hit something and broke. I couldn't throw it out for days. It just sat on my kitchen bench until I eventually had mourned it long enough and needed the kitchen bench space back in earnest. It was a great little pot. I bought it for $3 from an op shop in Geelong. I remember the price so well because it was years before I bothered to wash off the price which was written on it in semi-permanent marker. I guess it was a bit like your little pot, perfect for one person pasta sauces, 2 serves of porridge. God, I miss that little bastard.

But I still have some great pots.

Like these guys:



The bigger one at the back doesn't have a handle. But it is enamelled and so useful. Plus I bought it from an op shop in Kempsey on one of my first camping trips with LB many years ago, so it has nice associations. The reality is though, cooking with a saucepan with no handle sucks balls. But how about those other orange beauties. A Le Creuset frying pan and a little baby that makes one perfect porridge serve, melts butter good, and is also great for some other reasons. One or both of these came from a share house after all the original house mates moved out and I thought surely no-one would begrudge me expanding my orange empire.

And this:


My most grown-up pot. It was a Christmas present from LB's mother last year. It is great because it is huge and the stainless steel is so strong and stainless. I love it so much and sometimes make meals just so I have an excuse to use it. I hope I get a chance to use it over this 5-day weekend. And thank god for this 5-day weekend. Starting bloggy is practically like starting a new job - Thank Christ we get a reasonable break now.

What a pity we can't talk about Marky Mark every day

Mate, I am just going to talk about non-vegetarian things for a minute or two, I hope it doesn't gross you out too much.

So you know how some cookbooks recommend forming a relationship with your local fishmonger/butcher/green grocer so you can learn more about your produce and get them to do special things for you like clean, gut and descale your fish right in front of you or debone a joint of meat for you or do something special with your fruit and veggies that I cant really think of right now? Well I am totally making this happen for myself with the fishmonger and butcher on Nicholson Street. The fruit shop people are also very nice, but there are fewer opportunities for meaningful interaction at a fruit shop. "Do you have any Dill? I couldn't see any with the other herbs." You can only take things so far in a fruit shop

Anyway, I had a very enjoyable encounter at the butcher last night and I think our relationship really turned a corner. First of all, let me say that I love this particular butcher because they make hot salami that is out of this world and the men who work there are nice old Italian men or young enthusiastic boys. So lovable.

So I arrived just as they were packing up, but they let me in anyway because they are very nice. The young fellas were busily packing away all the meat and one of the older guys asked me what I was looking for. I said steak. I was planning on having Aussie meal you see. But as I was saying it I thought gee, it would be kind of good if I had something leftover that I could have for dinner tomorrow night too. The butcher sensed I was faltering. He said "how many people are you cooking for?" and I told him it was just me and then he said "how many meals do you want to get out of it" and I thought YES, this dude is totally on my wavelength. Anyway, he went out the back and brought out this lovely big bit of rump and told me that it was nice and tender and would be delicious roasted. I don't remember what else he said because I was already diving into my bag for money, because he had me at "how many meals do you want to get out of it?". While he was wrapping it up for we talked about Easter and holidays and I told him about NYC and he was excited for me. When I left he said "good luck to you!" and I thought yes! good luck to me and good luck to you too old timer.

I rushed home to make my reconceptualised Aussie meal. As you well know Mate, for me an Aussie meal usually consists of steak, iceberg lettuce salad and oven fries with a little houses of parliament on the side. Last night it consisted of rare roast beef, roast potatoes, beetroot and goats cheese salad and a horseradish and rocket sauce on the side. I would love to show you a photograph but I was so busy having my mind blown by it that I forgot to take one! Sorry.

It really was super delicious. AND I got to use two of my favourite kitchen items when making it. First, my beloved red griddle pan.

I love you, red griddle pan. You are made from cast iron and you are heavy in a pleasing way. I have cooked many steaks on you and chargrilled many vegetables on you. Last night, I used you to sear the beef so that it had nice grill lines on the outside and stayed juicy and delicious on the inside when roasted.
Which brings me to another beloved item.
My heavy based roasting tin with removable roasting rack.

You make roasting so very enjoyable and I love you very much. I like your rack. It allows me to make delicious roast potatoes, because the fat from the meat drips on to the potatoes underneath and basically makes them delicious. I took you with me to Mum and Dad's house on Christmas day so I could cook the pork shoulder inside you. My Mum loved you so much she bought one of your cousins to make her very own.

I really love both of those things, and it was great to use them when making fancy Aussie meal last night.
While I'm on the topic, perhaps I will introduce you to a couple of my other favorite (kitchen) things. While I didn't use them last night, I love them a lot and would like my love to go on the record.

Say hello to small saucepan.

This little guy used to belong to my Mum and has been around since the year dot. It is the perfect size for: soft boiling an egg; making pasta sauce for one person, melting butter, frying onion and garlic, etc. etc. etc. Such a handy little guy.

And let me introduce you to this lovely pot.

Isn't she a beauty? This is the pot in which I make all my chutney. It has also been around for yonks, and in fact was acquired in the 1980's via Coles New World in Elsternwick. Back in the day they had a system where you would get tokens when you bought at Coles New World. They looked like little stamps. Once you had collected enough, you could exchange them for things. This pot was one of those things. The whole collecting tokens and exchanging them for nice pots with flowers on the side captured my young imagination in that way things do when you are little. It was such a great thing! You collect tokens (which in itself is awesome fun when you are little) and then you swap them for a pretty thing! What an awesome idea!

Da, my Mum's mum, cottoned on to the fact that I was captivated by this concept and collected tokens for me whenever she could. I'm pretty sure she invented reason to go to Coles New World because in fact, her house was closer to Tuckerbag, and yet her collection of tokens grew and grew. Eventually we had enough to get the pot and OMG Mate, OMG was that an awesome day. My whole childhood I look at the pot and thought Wow! look what you can get if you just collect enough tokens! Now I look at it just think about how much I love it.

This final item is brand new. It's actually never been used. It's a whistling kettle.

Isn't it lovely? Midbro and Mrs. Midbro gave it to me for my birthday this year and I love it so much I don't want to bust it out until I move in to my little flat later in the year. It's not that I worry my housies will disrespect it, it's just that I love it and want to keep it all to myself. That's normal, right?

How nice are all of my things?!

The perfect end to a great day (or I am totally beginning to feel like a creep)

Marky Mark for breakfast

Man alive Mate. I just want to say straight up that a whole post dedicated to Marky Mark is a precious gift and pretty much the best possible way of starting a work day. Better than if someone cooked me a breakfast of huevos rancheros while I was in the shower and also got my clean underwear from off the line and put it in front of the heater so that it wasn't all cold and damp, and perhaps also put my towel in front of the heater too. But Mate, a cold towel, toast and underwear that I had to dry off with a hairdryer is fine by me when you're serving Marky Mark for breakfast! Yes sirree. The only drawback is that I feel a little dirty thinking the thoughts that pictures of Marky Mark make me think whilst at work. But please, don't let that ever stop you. Let me figure out how to deal with that one.

Before I reflect on your comments about Marky Mark, let me say that I had no idea about that new Planet of the Apes movie and watching the trailer without the sound on kind of freaked me out. It seems like the Apes are really POd. I hope everything works out for Franco.

But back to Marky Mark. I agree with your every word. Especially the wastefulness of that stupid Planet of the Apes film. I'm actually more angry about it now, after you pointed out that toplessness (total or semi) makes so much sense to the narrative of that BS film. Before today, I just thought it made sense from to point of view of my eyeballs.
At least Tim Burton and Helena Bonham Carter met and fell in love as a result of that film. They are such a nice couple, and if they didn't hook up then neither this, nor this nor this would have been possible.
Ha!
That last one was a trick. Marky Mark with his top off in Date Night had nothing to do with Tim Burton and Helena Bonham Carter falling in love. But perhaps it did have something to do with Planet of the Apes, because surely Tina Fey saw Planet of the Apes and surely, like any normal person, she would have wondered why such a golden opportunity had been squandered. Happily, she has the opportunity to right such wrongs. And boy did she right the shit out of that wrong in Date Night. Yes she did. I love how in that trailer, when we see Marky Mark for the first time, we then see Tina Fey doing that face you have to do when you really want to smile/laugh but the situation won't allow it and so you kind of have to elongate your jaw so as to keep the corners of your mouth from curling up. I'm doing it right now! Such a good one.

I would like to make one further comment about Marky Mark, and why he is so great. Here is that comment:
Marky Mark smiles a lot, and smiling goes a long long way with me when you are a hottie with your top off. Any old hottie can get their top off. If I wasn't writing this from work and hadn't once already had access to the internet denied because of the results of a search with the terms 'brad+ pitt+ top+off+thelma+and+louise', then I would like nothing more than to show you what it looks like when any old hottie gets their top off. In summary, it's pretty good, but only a special kind of hottie will also smile while he is doing it and therefore only few hotties turn that good think in to a great thing. So many of them brood, and when the rest of the world was brooding in their topless photos, Marky Mark was smiling. And that's why Marky Mark is so great.
(Mate, can you please add that photo of Marky Mark smiling in his underwear from the 1990s Calvin Klein campaign? The world needs to see Marky Mark smiling in his underwear. Thanks).

In other news, my Mum called me this morning to ask whether it is OK if she and Dad give my business card to the son of someone in my Dad's bowling club who just broke up with you his girlfriend of seven years.
My business card.
Isn't that weird! Dude is probably all skimming rocks across the surface of Brighton Beach and humming songs and then his Dad is going to stuff my business card in his hand and he is surely going to thing WTF? Like I need professional consulting services at this time in my life!
Has a business card ever made anyone want to do it with anyone else? I don't think so mate. Does Marky Mark have a business card? Hell no ( I assume), and EVERYONE wants to do it with him. And frankly, if that's how they did it back in the swinging sixties then I am very disappointed in the history books.

I said yes, of course. I hope he calls.

The best thing about most things

Remember how I texted you the other night when The Happening was on TV and you were all, “The Crappening” and I was all “No way this movie is awesome, it is so hilarious”? Fuck, it is so hilarious. The menacing wind. HAHAHHAHAHA. Oh, oh god, that menacing wind was so good. It’s making me happy just thinking about it. And all the close ups on Marky Mark’s face! HA!

I mean, I would never EVER disrespect Marky Mark, but god, that was so funny. The Happening was pretty much the funniest movie I’ve seen ages. Anyways, remember how you were all, “Marky Mark is the best thing about that movie.” And I was all, “Marky Mark is pretty much the best thing about most things”? Well I’ve just been thinking about Marky Mark since then, well, you know since 1997, but I guess more intensely in the last week or so and I thought it would be nice to think about the many things to which Marky Mark has contributed. Most recently I’d have to say the Oscars.

I don’t think he actually did anything at the Oscars (yet another reason why they were so totally lame) but he did sit in the audience. And he produced and starred in The Fighter which won all those awards and which led to that resounding phrase of the night, “Thanks to Mark Wahlberg.” Exactly what we have been thinking all these years! Thank you Marky Mark. Thank you.

He also contributed a lot to the hilarious movie Date Night. I actually really liked that movie. It was funny, but you know what was extra special about it?! The filmmakers knew what a goldmine they had with Marky Mark. And they didn’t squander it. Like we’ve seen time and time again. Most criminally in that god awful movie Planet of the Apes. Now I try not to think about that film too often because it still makes me angry. For so many reasons. The trailer had so much promise. I remember feeling like it was going to be this kind of awesome Hollywood epic. And what was it? Basically two hours of pure crap. And what was the worst thing about it? Not once, not even one single time in this pointless two hours did Marky Mark get his shirt off. Look, I don’t want to sound like a dirty trash bag and I certainly do not go to movies to see Marky Mark take his shirt off, but for god’s sakes if you are making one of the worst movies in the history of movies and Marky Mark is in it, wouldn’t you want to give the people something, just something to enjoy. I don’t even think it’s weird that I think this. I think it is weird that a movie about an astronaut who crash lands on a JUNGLE PLANET doesn’t rip his shirt. A guy gets taken PRISONER and he doesn’t have his shirt taken! And we are supposed to believe this. What an awful, awful film. But thank you Marky Mark. The only thing that meant I didn’t walk out of the cinema. I am pretty sure that Franco is not going to get his shirt off in The Rise of the Planet of the Apes, let's just hope he doesn't have to.

But this ain’t about hating. It’s about loving. Marky Mark. And you know, I'm not superficial, I don't just like Marky Mark when he get's his shirt off. Not at all, he doesn't even have to be on screen. I mean, how about Entourage? Pretty much one of my favourite shows ever and Marky Mark is hardly ever in it, but he is behind it and it is awesome. I basically named my son after one of the characters (E, obviously). So many golden moments. Thank you Marky Mark.

I guess I just wanted to take a little time to say thanks.

It doesn't have to be this hard

First let me say that I guess the girl in that picture with the fuzzy boots looks good, but I'm pretty sure it's not the fuzzy boots doing it. I guess what I'm trying to say is that everything would look better if there were no boots with the fur. The difference between the girl in the Sartorialist's picture and the girl we saw on Swan Street on Sunday afternoon is that every other bit of the Sartorialist girl's outfit work. But the girl on Sunday was dressing to a concept without really having all the right bits to do it. The chunky scarf was great, the dusky pink jumper was great, but those jeans, they were not good. I hate to sound like a snobby bitch (just jokes, I love to sound like a snobby bitch), but they were just some nasty cheap skinny jeans that weren't doing any body anyone any favours.Not her outfit, not our eyeballs. So I guess this should be part of the Criteria, don't buy a cheap version of a good look unless it is a really, really good imitation that looks awesome.

But first and foremost the number 1 question to be asked when trying on a potential purchase is "do I look awesome in this?" With a subset of questions being,"Is this a super colour on me? A super cut on me? Does it hang in a totally flattering bithin' way?" And if you don't answer yes to all of these things, well forget you potential purchase.

Perhaps another question is "will this contribute in a totally awesome way to my wardrobe? What will I wear it with?" And of course you need to answer yes to the first part of that question and then a bunch of things to the second part, but I think you know what I'm saying.

Also, "is this a fantasy piece?" Maybe it's the kind of thing you want because it looks really awesome but may not actually be able to wear it.


Well I think if the answer to the first question is yes, this looks awesome, then it's time to leave fantasy in the past and just bust that shit out. Wear that awesome thing. Wear it.

I feel delirious. Perhaps these are not criteria at all. Perhaps they are lame.

In other news today I saw a man with a giant ape toy.

It shouldn't be this hard

So today I am wearing the top I bought on the weekend and so far so good. It's really very comfortable. Like wearing a nightie. And I really like the colour. I also like how the sleeves are on the long side, because I like pulling sleeves down my hands, it gives me a sense of comfort. This top is totally made for that. Right now, my sleeves are at the base of my knuckles! See?!

That never happens! What a great top this is. But enough about the top. I'm not here today to talk about the top. I'm here to talk about the Criteria.

We've been discussing the Criteria in vague terms for some time now, but it's time to bed that shit down. I leave for NYC soon, and whilst there I plan to spend like the prostitute played by Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman when she goes out shopping for the second time, after the hotel manager played by Hector Elizondo helps her out. Only, I won't need the help of Hector Elizondo, because I will have the Criteria.

Lets revisit the story so far.

Speaking personally, the idea of developing criteria to guide clothes purchases grew from the need to fix two major problems: a) I never ever have anything to wear because my wardrobe is lame; and b) I always seem to be buying things/harbouring a desire to buy things, yet I continue to find myself in the situation outlined in point a.

Basically, my wardrobe never gets better. At any given time it has a handful of nice things in it that I wear over and over again until they wear out or become very unfashionable. Then, out of panic, I buy something. At best, the thing I buy is nice and integrates well with other things I have (please refer to earlier comments about my new top). If this happens, it is by accident, not by design. More often, the thing I buy doesn't actually work that well at all, and becomes part of the lameness. Then comes exasperation over the enduring lameness of my wardrobe. Then comes the urgent desire to buy something. Then the cycle continues onwards and onwards to infinity. The cycle is total BS and damn well needs to end. I see that the lame wardrobe is a direct product of lame purchasing practices, I totally see that. And while I would like to think that I should just be able to make better choices by being more sensible and dispassionate about the things I buy, it would appear that I really can't. I need to get regimented about this shit, and purchasing criteria are the way I am going to do it.

Of course, figuring out what the criteria should be may be a little difficult and that's why we need to start workshopping. Lets start now!

I think we can agree that the guiding criterion should be Does this (thing) look really great on me?

I mean really, what's the point if it doesn't. Take that girl we saw on Sunday for example. She looked awesome in her dusty pink sweater, skinny jeans and moss green chunky knit scarf, but ridiculous in her fuzzy rimmed ankle boots. Obviously the boots fit in with the style she was cultivating - which I would call co-ed in Autumn - but the shoes looked so stupid that her successful execution of the style was totally undermined by the fact that she looked lame.

The fuzzy rimmed boots can look good.

Right?

But they didn't look good on the girl we saw on Sunday. And the first Criteria will ensure that we never find ourselves brought undone by fuzzy rimmed boots.

(Thank you Sartorialist for picture of successful execution of fuzzy rimmed boots)

After: Where to Begin

That really was one of the best Chutney Club meets we've had, it's true. I actually think it was the best. Though when David brought out those fruit mince pies at our Merry Chutney Christmas Picnic, I thought I was going to blow a gasket. An excitement gasket! But yesterday's meeting was super special. People went in different directions but it all came together to form beautiful chutney harmony. And I really like what people did with their chutney showcase items. I think that's what really helped tip my mind over the edge, thus rendering it totally blown. I mean don't get me wrong, I can never get enough of bread and cheese. But the homemade rye bread, the little frits, the honey brown butter - that's where yesterday was at for me. I guess that's also because I spent a lot of time thinking about and preparing for my fig jam showcase item. And I'm pretty happy with the result - the pistachio Swiss roll with fig jam and marscapone cream, though I wish it had tasted more pistachioie. But it didn't matter, because I think we all know that the real hero of that dish was the marscapone cream, the remainder of which I just left in Biz's fridge yesterday, like an idiot. I was so full by the time we left, you know? I thought I was doing the right thing. I'm sure I don't need to tell you that I totally wasn't. On the plus side, the fact that I couldn't put marscapone cream on my porridge this morning means that perhaps I haven't undone all the good work I did at the gym on Saturday. Of course, going to the gym more than once would help too. Not just to address Sunday afternoon's adult dose of cream and cheese, but to get to a point where I don't look as red as this guy for 90 minutes after I have stopped exercising.

That would be a pretty big win for me. Meanwhile, I can't wait for tonight's Seder. I feel weird about the fact that I am not bringing food or passover themed crafts. I've really dropped the (matzo) ball (!!) this year. But I plan to compensate by bringing one hell of an appetite! Bam! Not really (well, yes, really), but I am also going to bring wine and have been given the all-clear from your Mum to get regular wine because it is nicer than kosher wine. Hooray! Things I am excited about eating:

• vegetarian chopped liver (all green and oniony and eggy)


• matzo ball soup (always and forever)


• gefilte fish (I like salty fishy things, I don't know why people turn their noses up at it)


• all of the other things that are on the table.

That reminds me of an hilarious joke I once heard:

Q: How can you spot a gefilte fish swimming in the ocean?

A: It has a little piece of carrot on its head.

While I would love to include an adorable picture to support this joke I'm afraid I can't because nowhere on the whole internet (or at least the parts of the internet that take 25 seconds to search) can you find a picture of a fish swimming with a carrot on its head. It seems like a real loss to me. Lets get Chickpea to draw one and put it on the internet tonight! Heh.

Until sundown, Mate.

(Then next year in Jerusalem.)

Where to begin

Mate, with Chutney Club yesterday and Pesach tonight and so much delicious food everywhere I really don't know where to begin. But let me give it a shot. I cannot wait to eat vegetarian chopped liver tonight. I can't wait. I am pretty sure that by the end of the night my teeth will have the same horrible furry feeling they had last night. Why you gotta be punished for eating all that delicious food by having furry teeth. I hate that. Also I really need to go for a run.

So how freakin good was Chutney Club? I know we probably say this every time, but I really think that was the best one. The chuts, the diversity, the pickles, the bloody marys, the baked goods.
I think that the best thing I made this weekend was the honeyed brown butter spread. Fo shiz. Sometimes I read recipes that call for browned butter and I never really got it and now that I browned that butter and tasted all its caramelly goodness I totally understand what everyone is on about. And I certainly do not want to come down on that recipe, cause it was delicious, but why it didn't call for cinnamon I don't know. Honey and cinnamon are pretty much one of the best combos in the world. I think it added a lot to that butter.

Though I also liked making caramel. I love the way it makes my kitchen smell like Disneyland and I love that it is the easiest thing and that the end result is friggin caramel. Every time I make it I think this but then what am I gonna do, just make caramel all the time and then eat it. That's not really feasible is it?

Did you have a favourite chut? I really felt like they all had something great to offer. I loved the spiciness and the nut factor of the spicy pear and I loved the depth of the apple, plum and onions. I also love it when fritters are served. I love how Biz always makes a fritter. Sometimes I think of those eggplant chips from NYE ... shit I'm thinking about them right now in fact and, well, you know, I really wanna eat them. Anyways, I love fritters. Though I actually felt that the chutney they were meant for went better with cheese and the ajvar went well with the frits. And how about those bread and butter pickles. I loved how they were a bit spicy and a lot delicious. All the jams were great too, the lemon factor in your fig jam was great and that tangy marmalade. And the worcesterchire sauce, well I only tasted that in the bloody mary and it tasted pretty good to me. Until you talked about how tomato juice tastes like vomit and then somebody said chunks and then the dream was pretty much over.

In other news I am looking forward to the Seder tonight. 'Cause there ain't no party like a Passover party.

Though apparently my awesome haggadah from last year wasn't good enough and Mondonna picked up a new one in Manhattan Judaica. She says that design-wise it matches our yarmulkes and the description of it was thus:

30 MINUTE SEDAH HAGGADAH. This meaningful abbreviated format includes all of the highlights of the traditional Seder. The gender sensitive, socially conscious text will appeal to all ages. Rabbinically Approved! 6"x9" format.

So I guess it sounds pretty good. But apparently when she went to buy it the guy in the shop castigated her for wanting the abridged version and suggested she only cared about the food. HA! God, I can't wait for the vegetarian chopped liver.

Next year in Jerusalem!