It's Refreshingly Different!

(from gettyimages)

You know that feeling that's only in the summer, that feeling of hotness, sweatiness, puffiness? Unless you're standing in front of an open refrigerator or AC vent, you're not really going to cool down. You are hot. You are drenched. Red face. Sweaty droplets. Just h.o.t.

And if you're 12 and you just finished mowing the lawn, jumping into a big pool of Orange Fanta really appeals to you or at least anything that was cold, sugary, and refreshing.

So. Now a days, when I'm hot there's really only one sure way to cool down. Something cold. Something sugary. And something refreshing.

Del's Frozen Lemonade. Make no mistake, this is not some fancy lemon granita or lemon sorbet or lemon ice. This is straight up lemon-sugar-snow. And not corn syrup-y, thankfully. And it's only found in Rhode Island. Best in the hot summer months. And usually from some outdated circa '70s truck (aka Dels Mobile Unit).



A brief history, courtesy of Dels:

Great grandfather DeLucia made the earliest Del's Frozen Lemonade in 1840, in Naples, Italy. During the winter he carried snow into nearby caves and insulated it with straw. When summer arrived and the local lemons were ripe and flavorful, he mixed their juice with just the right amount of sugar and snow. Thus making a refreshing drink, which he sold at the local market. Fruit ices are popular in Europe, yet none is more loved than the product made from fresh lemon juice. Lemon ices produce the most delicious and thirst-quenching treat.

 Grandfather Franco DeLucia brought his father's frozen lemonade recipe to America at the turn of the century. Angelo DeLucia, his son, began work on a machine to produce the frozen lemonade, and on a method of making it a consistently excellent product.

In 1948, Del's Frozen Lemonade acquired it's name and became the sole product sold at a little stand in Cranston, Rhode Island. Soon, Angelo had designed the first mobile units in order to serve anywhere in the state.

 When Angelo's son, Bruce, entered the family business there were 5 franchises in Rhode Island.



For maybe 2 clams you can cool down with a delicious icy cup of lemony snow, complete with sugary lemon bits, occasional pulp, and brain freeze, if gulped too quickly.
Not everyone knows how to consume a frozen Del's—you could use a spoon or a straw—but experienced Del's consumers have their own technique. You simply squeeze the cup from the bottom in the palm of your hand as you drink. It also helps if you shake the cup from side to side between sips to release the fluid from the ice. If you were to use a straw you'd just suck out all the liquid and be left with a flavorless iceball. I'm just sayin'.

Del's Frozen Lemonade. A Rhode Island delicacy.

Matthew Cohen Photography

We’ve all seen photos, in color, sepia toned or black and white of the ocean wave or the huge comber, curling its thinning froth with or without a surfer in the mix. We’ve all seen pictures of the sea and sand or the sail unfurled or jib whipping in the wind. Sometimes we may rub our chin and think, ‘nice’. Or, if we’re in a hot and hurried mood, strolling around a weekend art festival with a smelly 8 year old on our back because they’re hot and hurried too, we might squint and think to ourselves, ‘nice’.

But when you see a photo and then another photo and you’re so moved by the delicate and yet so very simple nature of the subject (water, wave, sail) that you have to swallow the lump in your throat. And you take pause. And you stare at these images for as long as the smelly kid on your back will let you, hoping that maybe your stare will take you right into the image itself, the water or wave or wind from the sail.

I had the immense pleasure of meeting Matthew Cohen, professional photographer extraordinaire, at the Wickford Art Festival one weekend in July. At 29, Matthew is also an accomplished professional sailor. And somehow he is able to do both simultaneously (because he really has five arms?) He was a very humble, friendly guy. He reminded me of someone that could regale endlessly on the time he circumnavigated the globe in a dinghy (not really) or saw the most spectacular sunrise (probably) but would prefer to show his experiences through images than verbally describe his salty tales.

While I didn’t have the time, I would have liked to ask him loads of questions (and maybe I didn’t really want to as it might sorta spoil the magic that was hiding behind the curtain camera) about his skill, I did have a moment, albeit brief, to enjoy his work.

As his website states, Matthew wants “…you to feel as though you are there on location, curl your toes in the sands of St. Martin, feel the salt on the rigging, and climb to mountain tops for panoramic anchorages.”

If you enjoy his work long enough I think you might find yourself transported to the end of the world, where the water and sky meet.

You can also find Matthew live at the following dates and locations: Mystic Outdoor Art Festival on August 8 & 9, the Newport Art On the Lawn at the Newport Art Museum (TBD) , and the Providence Fine Furnishing Show on October 23 thru 25.

Matthew Cohen Photography
P.O. Box 718
Newport, RI 02840
401 662 6451 OFFICE
WWW.COHENPHOTOGRAPHY.COM
MATTHEW@COHENPHOTOGRAPHY.COM

All images courtesy of Matthew Cohen Photography/cohenphotography.com
(I encourage you to go tour his work *here*)

Eddie Izzard on Toasters and Showers

Few make me laugh as hard as Eddie Izzard. I adore his sense of humor and have posted some of his stuff before.

Here's another great clip:

A Summer's Night in Boston

We spent this past week on the beach with family. With a couple of sun-drenched days, the occasional rainy-ness didn't bug too much. It seemed like every summery day was followed by a wet day from late October.

And for a change, we stayed in town for the weekend. With one kid at a friend's for an overnight, we thought it might be nice to take our boy out for a little 'night on the town'.

We took the T right to Boston's Public Garden.


Walked through the Common and over to the waterfront. Hitched a round trip ride to Charlestown.


and then hitched another ride on the MBTA ferry to the Hyatt at Logan Airport for dinner.

I think with the beautiful weather, it was all we could do but find ourselves on the water and on public transportation, too.



The night ended with a walk through the Rose Kennedy Greenway - with little night time faeries skipping through the squirting fountain....it was all so dreamy.

One day at a train station in Belgium.

Sound of Music Train Station from Stan Glaser on Vimeo.

"Doe, a deer, a female deer. Ray, a drop of golden Sun. Me, a name I call myself." That's not quite what you'd expect hear at a train station in Belgium, but that's what happened when 200 people took over Antwerpen's Central Station to do a carefully choreographed dance to the song from Sound of Music. As one observer put it, "It showed me that good things are still out there and there are good people in the world. In a small way, I have a deeper understanding of what it is to be human because of the actions of 200 fellow humans in a train station in Belgium."

It's an Iron & Wine morning

Still one of my very most favorites.....

14 Juillet - Bastille Day

Bastille Day, the French national holiday, commemorates the storming of the Bastille, which took place on 14 July 1789 and marked the beginning of the French Revolution. The Bastille stood as a prison and at that time a symbol of Louis 16th's absolute and arbitrary power.

I'm not so much in to prisons. No. But was does come to mind in the flurry of romantic French cultural hullabaloo when someone mentions Bastille Day is all things delicious, sophisticated, and slow.

My eyes begin to flutter. I stand still, frozen almost. And I go straight to this sweet little hotel on the Left Bank.

Hôtel de l'Abbaye

Located on rue Cassette, right in the middle of the Sixth Arr., this hotel has all that anyone needs to feel as though you are far, far from home.

With its garden courtyard, large fireplace in the lobby, and manor-like appointments, this converted 17th-century abbey feels like a country estate in the middle of the Left Bank. Rooms range from monastically small to apartment-like duplexes (some with partial views over Saint Sulpice), but romance is a constant throughout the establishment; floral-printed (but not chintzy) chairs, bedcovers, and drapes echo the lovingly tended blossoms in the Luxembourg Gardens just beyond. As in most Parisian hotels, the rooms are small, but the service is attentive, the ambience homey, and the location ideal—close enough to the action of Saint Germain, yet at a pleasant remove from all the traffic. (Travel+Leisure)

Not entirely a prison but certainly a place I'd like to be held captive for a while.

It was sure fun while it lasted.....

Well. I was laid off on June 1. Nearly a week later I got this big pep talk from a couple of trusted and close friends that motivated me to dive head first into a pool of uncertainty, frustration, and utter self-fulfillment. I swam around for about a month, put a lot of miles behind me (apologies for the Palin-esque sporty-swimming metaphor) and then realized that the pool had no water in it.

(image from: toxel)

I wanted to go into business for myself. I attacked the list of priorities like my life depended on it and I found myself terrifically satisfied with the amount of headway I had made on this dreamy project of opening up a small market in my 'hood.

But alas. No money, honey. No money to start, at least not enough...and if my records and the word on the street is correct that honey is worth about $500k. And no money, really, for the first three years or so. If only that scratch ticket delivered......


My dream of opening up some kind of old school green grocery in Brookline Village may not be realized (this year) but it was a great dip.

~ Here's to Independence ~
~ Have a safe and happy fourth! ~

(photo from luke redmond)

A much needed lunch break to ORINOCO!

Come with me as I take a brief visit to Venezuela, where a small, rustic Latin kitchen sits filled with noisy visitors, friendly Chatty Kathys, and almost-very-nearly-annoyed waitresses.



Take my hand, come on. Don't be afraid. Just down the street....in Brookline Village (I know, I know, too much Brookline Village? Should I start referring to my 'hood as simply the 'vee-lahge'?).

Literally a block down the road, next to the Dunkie's (that's Bahston for Dunkin' Donuts) and Matt Murphy's.




There, see? Like a beacon in this dark, dank mist - a tropical light burning warmth and comfort in the godforesaken wet, crazy effin' wetness of the endless rain that's lasted for entirely too long and really! REALLY! must we have this much rain? really?

wait.




The warm beacon. From Venezuela. There. Orinoco.





A sweet little South American gem that provides outstanding caipirinhas, mojitos, and other sugary rum drinks as well as amazing and authentic Venezuelan cuisine. And a much needed break from the constant spit and drizzle from the Boston sky.

ORINOCO
22 Harvard Street
Brookline, MA
617.232.9505
open for lunch and dinner
closed Mondays

Chipping away at the behemoth iceberg

Lawyer and lease? check
Plumber? check
Electrician? check
Contractor? check
Measurements? check
Photos and photos and photos? check
Renderings and drawings and doodles? check
Brookline Dept. of Health? check
Brookline Dept. of Development? check
Wholesale bakery relationship established? check
Produce, cheese, and specialty food distributors? check
Spy photos of possible competition? check
Friends, support, love, wisdom, and advice? check
A vision, a concept, a well conceived notion of what
I want in a neighborhood grocer that's local, organic,
upscale, and attractive? check, check, and check

Money? not so check

I'll get right on that. Meet with local bankers tomorrow who I envision are so bored with their own thoughts that they will reach right under their desk into their burlap sack of bills and hand me what I need. And then wink and say, don't worry about it.

(photo from straatis)