11.30.2007

Lundi, Mardi, Mercredi, Jeudi, et.....VENDREDI!!!

Bonjour Vendredi!



At long last....



arriving like an old friend. After five full days of work and school.......it's Friday.


Post Thanksgiving. Post FFOs (forced-family outings). Post wicked long weekend. A most welcome harbinger to two days of weekend.



And how would you like that, Friday? Two Cosmos and some sweet and dreamy hors d'oeuvres? Oh, and a fire?



Done.





















and done.






From The Odeon, New York City

The origins of the quintessential 1990s cocktail are not entirely clear, but many credit Toby Cecchini, a former bartender at this TriBeCa brasserie.


ingredients


Ice
2 1/2 ounces lemon vodka
1 ounce triple sec
1 ounce cranberry juice
1 1/2 teaspoons fresh lime juice
1 lemon twist

Directions:


Fill a cocktail shaker with ice. Add the vodka, triple sec and cranberry and lime juices and shake well. Strain into a chilled martini glass and garnish with the lemon twist. Enjoy.

11.28.2007

Taking the edge off.....


It's just Wednesday and I'm already longing for a night by the fire, drink in hand. Maybe it's the holiday-obsessed children I'm desperately trying to keep at bay.





Or maybe it's because Scott's in London for the week and the fun of single-parenting lasts only so long.




So, one might ask: What's one really good way to really get through these next weeks as peacefully and calmly as possible as a single parent or otherwise?

Well.....I've found that, particularly on our free-for-all Friday nights in the Sutton household, a nice, seasonal cocktail will certainly help.

Second only to the Moscow Mule, a mix of Maker's Mark bourbon whiskey and Reed's ginger ale is nothing short of nirvana on a cold, winter's night. We like to load our highball glasses with ice, maybe two jiggers of Maker's and then top it off with Reed's. It's a spicy, warming, taste sensation.

Have some nice, meaty Cerignola green olives and salted cashews on hand and the edge will be well on it's way.....

11.27.2007

Warp Speed into the Holidays

Did you know that if you have two kids that are constantly and incessantly humming, singing, tapping, whistling the refrain to "Little Drummer Boy" the song will never leave your head?







11.21.2007


"Hey Colb, do you think we should use our china for Thanksgiving or our colorful bird plates?"


"Ummmm, I'm not really sure a Chinese Thanksgiving would be very good."

11.19.2007

Chipped teeth on toast





Maia has no stitches. No real major scars.

And in her 9 years of life, Maia has never been to the ER.


So, instead, she chips her front tooth to make up for all of her non-accidents.








Last night. Sunday. Birthday party.

Face-plant into wall.

Lots of tears, poor kid.


And since I happen to have a 'thing' about teeth, never wanting to live in the UK and suffer at the hands of an English dentist, this tooth will be repaired immediately. Especially since I chipped my adult tooth and lived with a gray fang for far too long (thanks to my Yankee parents that didn't really see the value-or understand the vanity-in a nice set of choppers).

11.16.2007

Tall Blonde



In keeping with this whole consumption thing I've got going on here I'm compelled to make yet another suggestion. You know that no-mans-land time of day on Thanksgiving, pre-dinner? That time of day when you've caught up with relatives, you've busied yourself with mundane details and you've checked/basted/looked at the roasting bird a billion times and you can't do it again? Time crawls and it's only 2 o'clock in the afternoon. We usually serve the big feast around 5 or 6pm, so this staring-at-the-ceiling time is now met with a little diversion.

Or discovery.
Discover Life - Discover Leffe.
Dorky tag-line if you ask me but it's a really good beer. Best six pack money can buy. High quality Belgian Abbey beer. Pictured left is the high-octane Tripel which is crazy rich and potent. We prefer the Leffe Blonde. For a mid-afternoon cool down. Can't tell you what a good beer this is. You need really only one, just to smooth out the rough edges. Any more and you're likely going to chop a finger with those onions or celery.

Originally brewed by monks near Dinant, Belgium, Leffe Blonde continues to be brewed to the traditional recipe created in 1240 in the monastery. Leffe Blonde with its distinct heritage and appealing taste is without doubt the number one among Belgian Abbey beers, or so they say.

And then right after the beer you have a cup of coffee, just in case.

11.15.2007

Mmmmm, good parenting

Dress Up Day at Pierce School (turkey at lunch, celebrate Thanksgiving....all very colonial).

Colby's all set with his little cardigan, trouser thing goin' on. Even works his part with his hair. Little slick-down (he's such a Felix Ungar).

And for Maia, I've already art-directed her sweet, hip outfit (weeks in advance).

And Maia refuses to wear it, this beautiful, high-end sweater dress that was a gift to her. And since I'm such an insecure control freak and desperately want her to wear it I find myself pulling out all the stops to force her to wear it. It's Dress Up Day at Pierce, fergodsakes!

First it's a quiet plea.

Then it's a joking beg.

Finally, it goes from 'I'll pay you' , then 'I'll pay you $20'to a last-ditch-effort 'I'll buy you a toy'. Desperate times=desperate measures. Scott overhears all this and tries to stop the madness with verbal persuasion. Yeah, right.

Ultimately, Maia wins. She doesn't wear the 'ugly pea soup-colored blanket sweater'.

And I try to recover my pride.

11.14.2007

You talkin' Turkey?


Turkey: The omnipresent, pervasive, ubiquitous fowl of Thanksgiving. For the past 16 years, Scott and I have attempted to master the perfect Thanksgiving dinner. We've brined, we've flipped, we've tried breast down, breast up, we've even smoked birds. And each and every one was dry but tasty. Chalky dry, too, like please pass that gravy boat, again. Or, maybe if I drink more wine the terribly-lacking-moisture main course will taste even better.

Until last year. When my brother (with whom I have an unspoken cooking competition) turned me on to the no-fail best roasted turkey method known to man.

And sort of a no-brainer, I must admit. I share it with you, from November 8, 2006, The New York Times:

There's No Undoing Overdone

OUR definitive turkey test was conducted with the help of Cedric Maupillier, executive sous-chef at Citronelle in Washington.

Each time I took the temperature of a turkey, Mr. Maupillier — without looking at the thermometer — would feel the breast and tell me whether he thought it was ready.

The heritage and wild turkeys, he said, cannot stand as high a temperature as the broad-breasted whites because they have much less fat. When the internal temperatures reached 150 degrees, he agreed that the birds were done.

Overcooking is irreversible: better to undercook the turkey and put it back in the oven if the juices run pink when it is cut.

Here is a no-frills guide to a moist Thanksgiving turkey (with stuffing cooked separately):

1. Remove giblets from turkey cavity; wash turkey, and season inside and out with salt and pepper. Place turkey in roasting pan breast side up, and brush all over with a mixture of oil and butter. You needn’t truss the bird; just tuck the wings under the body.

2. Let turkey come to room temperature, which will take at least 30 minutes. Place shelf in lower third of oven, and preheat to 475 degrees. Roast turkey for 20 minutes; reduce heat to 350, and continue to cook, at 15 to 20 minutes a pound. (Fifteen minutes is the rate for leaner turkeys.) Every 15 or 20 minutes baste with pan juices. If any part of the skin begins to brown too much, cover with aluminum foil.

3. One hour before you estimate that the turkey should be done, insert a digital instant thermometer straight down to where the leg meets the breast. Don’t let it touch the bone. If it reads 130 or above, check again in 20 minutes. Once it reaches 140, check every 10 minutes.

4. Remove turkey from oven at 150 degrees, and cover with foil. It should rest 30 minutes before carving; by then, it will reach 160 degrees. Cut into a thigh. If the juices are still pink, cut off both thighs, and return them to the oven for as much as 35 minutes, checking every 10 minutes. When juices are clear the thighs are done. If joints show some redness, that is not a concern.

If you are serving turkey to elderly people, young children, women who are pregnant or anyone with a compromised immune system, cook their servings separately to 165 degrees.

Mr. Maupillier’s method for carving the turkeys may have helped them retain their moistness. He removed all the meat from the breast and thighs, and rather than carving them into very thin slices he cut them half an inch thick and served them with a little golden brown skin attached, as duck is served in a restaurant. Very appealing.

Whatever you do on Nov. 23, forswear revelry for the last hour of roasting and stand guard over the turkey. It can go from just right to overcooked in five minutes.

11.11.2007

Moscow Mule Anyone?




Moscow Mule

2 ounces vodka
3 ounces ginger beer
1 ounce lime juice


Build in an ice filled highball glass (or copper mug). Garnish with a lime wedge.


Winner: best new seasonal drink.
Runner Up: Maker's Mark and ginger ale.


No, we're not talking about Putin. This mule is the one that apparently kicked off the vodka craze in the United States back in the '50s. A strange creature with a mild bite, the Moscow Mule owes more to stateside hucksterism than to its Commie namesake.

Legend has it that a year after World War II, Americans were intrigued by one of their more notorious allies. Some went as far as to suggest that the Moscow Mule, made with the white whiskey most associated with Russia, was a heady olive branch. Although we'd like to encourage such claims of goodwill, we must not misrepresent the true tale of this ersatz classic of a mixed drink. Made with 2 ounces vodka and an ounce of lime juice topped with 3-4 ounces ginger beer, the Moscow Mule was a mere marketing ploy of some Capitalist American. Anyone that has tried one would agree that the Moscow Mule is a cool vodka libation with a slow ginger burn that warms the blood on a cold winter night. And who doesn't love a little lime shot in the dead of the freezing season.

11.08.2007

Dumb and Funny (and Lifted from Dooce.com)

Overheard at a restaurant, presumably between two people who are very much in love

“I can’t believe you just did that. That’s just so retarded.”

“I really hate it when you use that word like that.”

“What? Retarded? That’s how you’re acting. Retarded.”

“Do you even know how high my IQ is?”

“It can’t be that high because you’re acting retarded.”

“130. My IQ is 130.”

“So what? Mine is 1050.”

“IQ, you idiot, not your SAT score.”








11.07.2007

Apple + Computer

Question: why is it not a good idea to eat an apple while staring at a computer screen, engrossed in on-line articles, random Google searches or eBay hunts?


Answer: because one too many times you may find what you think to be a piece of dirt on your apple is actually a brown, wriggly ick of grossness wanting off of your apple.



11.06.2007

Bonjour Chaussures

The ever-omnipresent Brookline shoe caught some ink a couple of days ago. Dansko Clogs. The shoe to wear when the Crocs just won't do. New York Magazine had a sweet little time-line of footwear that I enjoyed. I doubt that fellow-Brookline moms care so much but I do. Took me down memory lane and reminded me of some of the more fashion high-points in my life.

Let's see.....I owned Birks, maybe 15 years ago. Scott still has his but he still has his velour pull-over that he bought in Rome 23 years ago. I also had Earth shoes, but that was in 6th grade, so that doesn't count. Had a pair of Doc Marten's, maybe 15 years ago as well. That must have been a particularly bold year for me and my feet, back in '92. Oh, I know, I went to Poland. Totally makes sense why I'd own a pair of Birkenstock's and Doc Marten's in the same year.

And just a thought.....Uggs. True to their name, as they are but I also have to ask: how badly do they smell after you've worn them?

Lastly, Supersize Salt-Waters? Awesome name.

UGLY SHOES: a brief history


Every few years, tastemakers mysteriously embrace some comfortable but undeniably ugly footwear more typically associated with river-rafting potheads or line cooks. A look at the most memorable assaults on our fashion sense, and a forecast for the ugly shoe of spring 2008.


(Photo: Courtesy of Birkenstock)

1966: The Birkenstock Invasion
Californian Margot Fraser falls in love with the squat German sandals and buys the U.S. distribution rights; they become the counterculture’s signature footwear. Forty years later, Heidi Klum designs her own version.


(Photo: Courtesy of Dansko)

1971: Crazy for Klompen
Sexy, disco-era platforms reign, but more conservative dressers—especially men—adopt traditional Scandinavian clogs with a cartoonish point at the toe.


(Photo: Courtesy of Earth Shoes)

1974: Unsexiness Sells
Orders for the orthopedic-minded Earth shoes— the heel’s lower than the toe to mimic walking on sand—are backlogged by 3,500 pairs. Time magazine writes about them. The company’s owners go on Johnny Carson.


(Photo: Courtesy of Dr. Martens)

Late Seventies: The Footwear of Rebellion
First Brit punk-rockers, then angry American youth buy burly gummy-soled Doc Martens. Marc Jacobs puts them down the runway in 1992; they reappear in fashion at the 2007 ChloƩ and Yohji Yamamoto shows.



Eighties: What a Feeling!
Leg warmers and leotards are everywhere (thank you, Irene Cara), and so are boxy, elfin Capezio jazz shoes. In 2006, United Bamboo and Dior Homme revive the bad memory.


(Photo: Courtesy of Teva)

Mid-Nineties: For the Concrete Canyons
Several time zones east of Colorado, New Yorkers inexplicably embrace Tevas. The truly brazen wear them with socks.


(Photo: Courtesy of UGG Australia)

Winter 2004: So Soft, So Unflattering
Uggs were a generic sheepshearer’s boot in Australia for decades, but have become beachwear for surfers, then models, who wear them with minis.



2006: Croco-philia
The garishly colored slip-resistant shoes beloved by shift workers and chefs spread like a virus, engulfing entire families at a time.


(Photo: Courtesy of Buddyshoes.com)

June 2007: Comfortable, But …
Worishofer sandals, the purview of Eastern European grannies, are stocked by groovy boutiques and worn with skinny jeans. Karen O performs in them.


(Photo: Courtesy of Salt-Water Sandals)

Up Next: Supersize Salt-Waters
The flat sandal that’s so adorable on kids isn’t quite so cute in a size 10, but it’s got the clunky contours that hipsters love.

11.05.2007

Oh? Ha! Funny!

Another birthday party. Another high-energy, high-octane, hebephrenic, hyper-jittery coupla hours of fun.

For Maia. Aged 9 years.

At pick up, greeted by mother of birthday girl:

"Karen, we've decided that Maia must be high on cocaine."

Me, a little stunned and embarrassed: "Oh? Ha! Funny!"

"No. Seriously. Only someone on cocaine can be that hyper."

11.02.2007

Paul Weller - Headstart For Happiness

My brother, Colby, and his wife, Geraldine, left last night for their first trip sans les enfants (they have Nate,4 and Tommy, 7 mos.). It's their first trip since they got married and went on their honeymoon. They're off to Copenhagen and Oslo for a speaking gig Geraldine has been invited to attend. She's the Design Director at Entertainment Weekly. For over a week they'll be able to walk, talk, eat, drink, and sleep - unfettered and unencumbered.

They can even swear. Whenever. Where ever.

And my brother knows music like nobody I know. Without any attitude or snobbery, Colby can name off songs and artists like Rainman counting a box of spilled matches on the floor.

Since Colby has such fine taste and is quite an authority on music I thought it fitting that I include a fave from the Icon of Mod, Paul Weller.

He's quintessentially Euro.

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