cooking in my underwear

Having lived in Park Slope for close to 25 years, it's an understatement to say that I've seen a lot of changes in the area.  In my opinion, the vast majority of them have been for the better, but I think the pendulum is swinging so far to the other extreme that the neighborhood is becoming completely devoid of individuality. In the Times today, Sean came across the story of this amazing artist , who captures (in perfect, miniaturized detail) some of the spirit of a rapidly disappearing New York.  And I was deeply moved to see among his works, a reproduction of a run-down coffee shop, where we spent many a hung-over weekend morning, reading the New York Post, chatting with the owner, Chris, and trading barbs with the waitress. It has long since been replaced by the expansion/upgrade of a nearby supermarket.  To be honest, the supermarket, while larger, cleaner and more modern, does have a quirkiness of its own.  But we still sorely miss this little shop, whi...

,,and if Tropfest NY isn't enough for you, here's a supermoon to push things over the top! Whenever I hear the phrase 'film festival', my mind is filled with thoughts of highly intellectual and esoteric cinema that can only be appreciated by people who use the word 'cinema' on a regular basis.  But my personal movie preference leans toward presentations that involve any combination of gunfire, aliens, explosions and shirtless heartthrobs. So when I registered to attend the free Tropfest NY short film festival it was only due in part to my curiosity about the actual films. My main incentive was the opportunity to see Liev Schreiber (this year's host) in the flesh. With low expectations, and a burning desire to take advantage of a rare sunny day, I packed up a little picnic and headed to Prospect Park with my sweetie to check out some film (and Liev Schreiber). Because I had an early-morning commitment, we were only able to stay for the fi...

I feel rather envious of the people who never come to the realization that nostalgia can be a dangerous thing. For most of my childhood, mid-year school holidays involved endless hours spent on my bicycle (a purple Chopper with orange lettering, a banana seat, basket AND tassels) zipping back and forth on the 4-block stretch that was my street.  Being profoundly chicken-hearted even back then, I rarely ventured beyond the confines of that quiet strip, and I look back in amazement at how I was able to while away so much time in so small a place.  I remember the warm sun on my shoulders, and the wind whipping through my hair, and having not a care in the world. So, when the long-awaited Citibike scheme finally came to fruition in New York, I was among the very first to sign up, eager to relive those carefree days of my childhood.  Last weekend, I had my first opportunity to hop on one of these blue behemoths, and let's just say things didn't go quite as planned. I...

It all started out as a rather ordinary Saturday afternoon, as my sweetie and I decided to take advantage of one of the long-standing seasonal events in our area, and made our way to the Chile Pepper Fiesta at the Brookyn Botanic Garden.  Knowing that the fiesta is usually very popular regardless of the weather, we decided to get an early start, in order to avoid the inevitable crowds.  This turned out to be a wise move, as we were greeted not only by an entrance free of lines snaking around the block, but also by the lovely Pepper Sisters (later christened Belle Pepper and Holly P e ñ o by the loopy MC at the main music stage).   As far as sweetie was concerned, our first order of business was to secure some Brooklyn Chili and a good spot on the lawn, both of which were accomplished with minimal fuss, since the gardens were still fairly empty at this point. We lay around on the lawn enjoying what turned out to be a wonderfully warm day, listening to all the g...

I headed to Prospect Park today for the first time since last weekend, partly to break up the gym monotony, and partly to survey the damage wrought by the tornado (yikes!) that touched down in my neighbourhood two days ago.  The cleanup efforts were in full swing, and the roadway was entirely clear, but off the roads,  there was still evidence of heavy damage, jagged tree stumps and torn branches among the grass and shrubbery. Towards the end of my walk came the most heartbreaking scene of all, this massive tree, torn up at the roots.  I was one of the many who stopped in their tracks at the sight of this fallen giant, in awe of the destruction and havoc that seemingly came out of nowhere.  I've never considered myself to be the tree-hugging type, but I truly felt for this one.  Once the majestic king of the hill, and now a hulking mass of debris.  Talk about a dose of perspective! and by the way Today's magic number : 60.6 lbs

Today I dragged my sweetie out of bed at the crack of noon so that we could catch the last few hours of the Brooklyn Children's Carnival.  My struggle was greatly rewarded, since the kids seem to have stepped up their game quite a bit.  We were treated to band after band of wonderfully costumed children, some of them decked out in enough bling and feathers to easily rival their adult counterparts. Sadly, I neglected to charge my camera battery, so I was only able to get a few shots before the device gave up the ghost. I hope you enjoy them!

Space Coast Marathon 2009 Finishing time : 3:16:48 CONGRATULATIONS SWEETIE!!! Sent using AT&T Xpress Mail

As you may have deduced, the holiday weekend's activities have pre-empted the weekly Wine Down session. However, I managed to squeeze in a trip to the local greenmarket. The offerings were not only tasty and fragrant, but rather photogenic. This may be your only serving of vegetables on this hot-dog, hamburger and barbeque filled day, so I hope you enjoy. Happy 4th of July! Sweet red peppers. These strawberries smelled divine. Fish was going really fast (making a mental note to get there earlier next time). Almost too pretty to eat. Almost! I figured it would have been rude of me to totally ignore the wine. Zucchini and yellow squash. Garlic scapes. Possibly my favourite summer veggie.

Happy Bastille Day Aaah, le merguez frite et le petanque et le soleil et le vin

Here's one of our fun, springtime traditions. Our annual pilgrimage to the Cherry Blossom festival, at the Brooklyn Botanic Garden. Allergies be damned, I wanted SAKE!!!! Let it be known that I paid for this later on with several days of swollen, watery, itchy eyes, and a great deal of wheezing. It was worth it!

So why exactly am I freezing my butt off on the Coney Island boardwalk once again ? I'll tell you why : my sweetie decided to participate in the oh-so-fun Brooklyn Half Marathon . So, being this good soldier that I am, I followed him out the very edge of our fine borough to serve as head cheerleader, documentarian and general support staff. I do have to say that my discomfort was somewhat mitigated by the sight of the massive turnout for this particular race (close to 6000 lunatics in all). I figured that if all these scantily-clad individuals were willing to brave the chill air, it really wansn't my place to complain about my fingers being a little numb. And so, with the blast of the starter's bullhorn, they were off! I proceeded to follow the crowd, on foot, and by train, to cheer on these athletes at various points in the race. And for those of you who would dare sing high praises of the New York City subway system, I am sorry to inform you that the winner of this race m...

A couple of years ago, my sweetie and I attended a Carnival fete with my best friend and her husband. I remember being blissfully happy at that fete. Happy at the prospect of being outside, at night, in the middle of February, wearing a tank top and capris; happy because I was eating and drinking to my heart's content with the knowledge that I would be able to dance off every calorie before the end of the night; happy because I was in a country where the phrase 'wind-chill' was an entirely alien concept; happy because I was among my friends, and rapidly approaching the two days of unbridled revelry that would become Trinidad Carnival 2006. My best friend wasn't having such a good time. She was cranky, for many reasons, some still unknown to me. She was displeased that the DJ was talking too much (I didn't notice), she was upset that the headline act didn't show up (in hindsight, a reasonable grievance, but in my eyes at the time a non-issue), she was quite riled...

I'm standing on the boardwalk, the cold wind is biting into my reddened cheeks and my eyes are watering mercilessly. The surf is rolling in the distance, and the wooden planks beneath my feet are thrumming with the rhythm of eager footsteps. Does this all seem a little familiar? So, as if it wasn't enough for my sweetie to begin the running season with a gust of icy wind in his face, he's decided to end his season with one as well. On a chilly Sunday morning, we made our way to the Cosme's Coney Island 5K Turkey Trot, for what we believed would be a spirited and entertaining competition. What we encountered instead were about sixty hardy souls shivering on the boardwalk, waiting for the race to begin. As I surveyed the group, I picked out one or two individuals who appeared to be capable of besting my beloved in this footrace, and I immediately became confident that we would once again be bringing home some 'hardware'. And then I remembered! A glance at the ...

..by the dawn's early light.. So, on the 4th of July, I'm up at the crack of dawn (about 5 a.m.) trying desperately to wake my seemingly comatose boyfriend while packing my beach bag and trying to ignore the ominous clouds gathering in the cold sky. Yes, it was madness, but there was indeed a method to it. The aforementioned boyfriend had signed up for a 4K race on the boardwalk at Long Beach, Long Island, and the only way to make the 8:30 start was to be on the very first train of the day. We were also hoping, weather permitting, to enjoy a little sand and surf after the race. The weather reports made it abundantly clear that we were hoping against hope, but it was Independence Day, damn it, and there was no room for pessimism in our emotional arsenal. Eventually, I was able to extract my sweetheart from the tangle of blankets and pillows and set him to packing and getting into his racing gear. We made the train with plenty of time to spare, but naturally, the employees of the...

In case you thought that the reason I haven't posted in so long is because I have been slaving away trying to create order out the piles of boxes, clothing and wayward furniture that have turned my apartment into a knee-gouging, hip-bruising odyssey of obstacles, allow me to disabuse you of such a belief. I have been indulging most heartily in what is commonly described as 'goofing off'. Indeed, my office workload has not abated, and it is a rare occasion (such as this) when I have time to blog from my desk. But once I leave this building in the evening, pure silliness is the order of the day. In the past few weeks, I've feasted on juicy brisket and pulled-pork sandwiches at the Big Apple BBQ Block Party, I've lounged on the grass while being serenaded by the likes of The Neville Brothers, and Joan Osborne, I've eaten and shopped my way through the mile-long Seventh Heaven Street Fair, and the list goes on and on. I've even managed to squeeze in some running...

Contrary to the results of this quiz, I'm probably MORE Irish than I think. As far as I know, I have no Irish ancestry whatsoever. But the love of my live is an Irish-American cutie, so I think that counts for something. You're 45% Irish You're probably less Irish than you think you are... But you're still more Irish than most. How Irish Are You?