once upon a late summer vegetable dinner

fall will officially be here in a few days, and i am looking forward to it. i've been craving a cool breeze like a pregnant woman looking for some ice cream. i will not miss those sweat soaked days of suffocating in subway stations and attempts to avoid the dubious smells wafting from stewing garbage in new york, but i will miss the summer fruits and vegetables and the many farmers markets they come from. my neighborhood has a great little greenmarket of its' own on sundays and i want to be sure to visit as much as possible before it gets too cold out. this past weekend they had a wonderful little eggplant varietal, known as fairytale. i had seen this vegetable on many menus lately, and in my head it conjured up visions of princesses dining on eggplants while burly men attended to their every culinary need, "oh princess, do you need a little more salt? you have a little something right next to your mouth..let me wipe that for you." i know, i have issues. needless to say, i bought a pound of them, fantasizing about what magical things could happen that night when i cooked them. turns out they're not only totally adorable, but they are also delicious. the eggplants are prized for being uniquely un-bitter and creamy in texture, which is really something to swoon over, if you're as weirdly into vegetables as i am.

i also got a bag of padrone peppers, which are exciting because like their japanese cousin the shisito (seperated at birth twin?), only 1 in 10 of them are spicy. eating them is kind of like playing roulette..but with peppers.

the eggplants i roasted in the oven with some smoked salt and the peppers i charred in a pan with lemon and sea salt. with vegetables that fresh, i really like simple preparations that highlight the natural flavor instead of distracting from them. 

now, a few weeks ago i had an amazing dinner at frank in the east village, which is one of my favorite restaurants in new york. it is simple, unfussy italian food that has never let me down. i have ended up in frank's on many a late night occassion and eaten way better than i should have at those hours and those prices. i dream about their black linguine with calamari and spicy marinara and if you are lucky enough to be there on a night when they have the burrata on the menu, don't even think about it, just order it. recently, they had a black kale caesar salad that i devoured and can't stop thinking about. the kale was crunchy enough to stand up to the creamy caesar, and it didn't hurt that the whole salad was hidden under a cloud of shaved parm. i loved that salad so much i ate every last bite and have been recreating it  at home for the last few weeks, playing with the perfect ratios of anchovy, garlic, lemon and olive oil. for my dinner on sunday, i wanted to lighten things up so instead of adding an egg and lot of olive oil, i used a vegan mayo sub, nutritional yeast (which is good for a cheesy flavor), and apple cider vinegar. i kept the anchovy in, but if you want to make it full blown vegan, i think the dressing would still be great without it. here's my recipe for a lightened up caesar dressing:

1/2 cup apple cider vinegar

4 cloves of raw garlic

2 tbsp nutritional yeast

1 tbsp brown mustard

3 tbsp vegan mayo (any kind is fine)

3-4 anchovies (depending on preference)

a few dashes of salt & pepper (to taste)

put everything in a food processor and go to creamy town.

it came out great and i think i preferred it to the dressing at franks because it wasn't as heavy, so i didn't feel bad eating a ton of it. i don't like to use too much when i toss the kale, because black kale (also called lacinato or tuscan) is so delicious it doesn't need to be drowned. i had a good amount of dressing leftover so i decided to make some artichokes and use the caesar as a drizzle. i steamed the artichokes as i normally do, but as soon as they were cooked i cut them in half, scooped out the furry and spiky inedible inside parts and charred them on a skillet until they were nice and blackened. once charred, i drizzled the dressing into the scooped out middle, which also worked nicely a a vessel for dipping the leaves. ahh artichokes, so functional yet so delicious. i'll miss you so much come winter.

but on to the next bounty; pumpkin, brussel sprouts, butternut squash, yams... oh yes. bring it, fall.

a tribute

we were just children, really.

wide eyed, open-hearted, ready for serious play. 

excited to be living, eating, sleeping, breathing in such close quarters with members of the opposite sex.

most of us newly liberated from the constraints of living at home and even from the academic rigors of our respective colleges and universities.

we were 18-22. we had chosen to sacrifice the conveniences of modern technology and shopping malls in exchange for a few months of isolation with nothing but each other, our imaginations, the heroic authors of our plays, and some of the most gifted teachers of theater we would ever have have the pleasure of working with. 

we lived near the ocean and woke early every morning to breathe in the salty air.

we had only been there a few days before the world shook with the collapse of its own heart. 

we barely knew each other's names but we were each other's family now.

i had stolen a few precious moments of sleep after breakfast when i heard voices outside my window speaking of a plane crash. we were all gathered. there was no internet, no cnn to turn to. our cell phone service was patchy at best. there were a few new yorkers in the group. they needed answers.

they told us what they knew, which wasn't much. it sounded unlikely to be true. too horrific. too cinematic, even. we were scheduled to make masks that day, so we did. there we were, dipping strips of newspaper into paper mache, creating characters for ourselves, imposing personalities unto these new faces we had devised. 

that next night we performed scenes from the book, nights at the circus, by angela carter. we had worked spontaneously and hurriedly, with little structure and organization.  the leaders stepped forward and tried to dictate the process. we became lions, tigers, trapeze artists, and ring masters. we performed for each other for the first time. we were all in awe of one another. i watched my new peers transform themselves and i was humbled to know that these would be my fellow collaborators for the next few months.

someone said we had created the first theater since 9/11. we relished the thought; we felt we had contributed something to the collective consciousness of the country. the nation's psyche was suffering and we had just made art from its ashes. it was an exhilirating idea. maybe we had.

the next day they sent us a psychiatrist to talk about our feelings. no, we didn't want to discuss our feelings, we wanted answers! we were hungry for facts, statistics, concrete information, please. we had no talking heads to rely upon. we had been mercifully sheltered from images of bodies jumping from windows, like falling stars dropping from an ashen sky.

he told us what he knew. he knew a lot. we were shocked. we were insatiable. we COULD NOT BELIEVE IT. we lived by the long island sound. all we knew was the peaceful lapping of the water and our own voices.

a week later we left for england to spend two weeks studying with the royal shakespeare company. there, abroad, we were treated like heroes. we had done nothing to deserve the accolades, but we accepted them all the same. somehow, just by being ourselves, we had become survivors.  we had never been prouder to be who we were.

we were returned to a country that was devastated by something so horrific it was really impossible for us to conceive of without the aid of visuals. we continued to live peacefully, but we were stronger, closer, irreparably bonded. we made theater every day. in the shadows of inconceivable suffering, we found each other's light and made something new.

things couldn't be cozier right now (special hurricane irene edition)

not to worry, mom and dad.

apparently there is an impending hurricane making a beeline for nyc right now, but i want you to know that inside this little room of mine, things are seriously cozy.

the lighting is dim, the blankets are soft, and there is a cat lazily stretched out a few feet away from my torso, sleeping so contentedly right now i can only imagine she's dreaming of dining on the finest meats and sweet milks that money can buy. so far this mandatory stay-cation is all right.

i've armed myself with a couple good bottles of wine, some salted chocolate and a full queue of tv shows i've been meaning to catch up on. provisions are key in any time of crisis.

some good finds i've discovered while cocooning:

these amazingly ethereal photos of europe, documenting one photographer's fictional journey around the world in a hot air balloon.

this beautiful blog just chockfull of lovely inspirational things.

these hauntingly serene oil paintings done of actual dioramas the artist creates and uses as still-life subjects.

the delicious vault of recipes on this food blog. i love a lady who's not afraid to use her herbs!

so,

Irene good night Irene good night
Good night Irene Good night Irene

I'll see you in my dreams

i plan on having sweet dreams tonight, and hope that when i wake, my city is still standing strong.

keeping it simple

summertime is all about keeping it simple, so on a balmy june evening when your friend asks you to go on a picnic with her in the brooklyn botanical gardens, you say yes and whip up some pesto and cold noodles and sigh with happiness when she fills up your plastic cup with crisp rose.

i'll be honest though. i don't actually love summer.

i love everything that summer stands for: fresh fruit and vegetables, cold drinks, lazy days, and long light evenings. i love warm breezes but i hate those dog days in new york city when it's so hot you start sweating the minute you get out of the shower.

fortunately, we're not quite there yet and i plan on enjoying it until we are. i've had so many ups and downs lately. for now, all i want are quiet nights in the park with the smell of honeysuckle wafting by.

yesterday, my dear friend jackie and i took a little trip to the beach. there really is nothing like warming yourself a few feet away from the ocean.  that night we went to her parent's house in staten island and cooked vegetables and tiger prawns on their big fancy grill (the luxury of living in the suburbs). we made grilled vegetable salad with creamy mozzarella and fresh picked basil and oregano, fusili with homemade pesto and the juicy grilled shrimp, and used the leftover tomatoes and mozzarella for a quick caprese. it was perfect. we sat outside with candles and ate delicious summer food. everyone was happy and we all had seconds.

here's a little more summer loving happening for me right now:

blood, bones, & butter by gabrielle hamilton

an unbelievable memoir for anyone who has ever appreciated food.

adele:  21

i know. everyone loves it. everyone is talking about it. it's that good.

dead man's bones's (ryan gosling's band)

a late discovery, but a friend just sent me this and i am hooked. what can't this guy do?

sitting outside in boerum hill and sipping a basil cocktail here. Also, their chandelier.

midnight in paris because it is pure joy for a francophile with all the familiar neurosis of woody allen. sigh.

happy independence day!

oh, hi, o.

once upon a time a long time ago, i grew up in ohio.

there were friday nights spent at the skating rink, days wasted in suburban malls, weekend drives out to the the country to eat fresh maple candy and angsty teenage conversation spewed over cappuccinos  in local coffee shops.

there were also long evenings spent in the high school auditorium, listening to leonard cohen and reciting neruda's love poems. things that teenagers really had no business doing, except we did because we were lucky enough to have ended up in that school with that teacher, james thornton. he told us about ts eliot and ee cummings and put on african music and told us to just move however we wanted. after long days of algebra and history, he cracked open our worlds and dared us to explore.

those hours spent in that room with him and 10 of my peers, singing, dancing, playing, sometimes just breathing; those are my best memories.

to come back to ohio, over a decade past...

now an adult. some things the same, so much different. winding roads with shady trees giving way to paved suburban strip malls.

seeing james. older, a survivor. still so sweet, full of quips and boundless wisdom.

finally, adult to adult. understanding so much more of what this world had in store for all of us.

no one ever said it was going to be easy. especially not him.

ohio. bittersweet at best.  flatland paved with memories.

a friend in maine

sometimes things aren't that great and you turn to your friends to get you through the dark days. and sometimes you're as lucky as i am to have amazing, brilliant, patient, nonjudgmental and stunning friends who just hold your hand and listen for as long as you need them to and never expect you to act or feel any way other than you do. and sometimes you have friends in other places who just know what you need without you having to tell them. like for example, my friend, tory, who bought me a plane ticket to come visit her in portland, maine, because that's what i needed. so that's what she did.

maine was a breath of fresh air. many many deep breaths.

i breathed in the fresh air until it cleaned my soul.

there were long talks and quiet moments, but mostly we just ate. and drank. and were merry.

portland is a little town with a lot of new endland charm and a heavy dose of 90's nostalgia. it's quaint and retro at the same time. it's not fancy, but it doesn't want to be. portland is just itself: unpretentious, simple, cozy, and charming. it has a noticeable lack of style, but a good amount of culture and some really really  good food.

with such a quick visit, i decided to get really ambitious. in order to maximize our time and meals together, we decidedly included lunch in addition to dinner on our foodie tour, .

there was durade at street & co, sushi at miyake, lobster at j's oyster, curry at green elephant, apps at 555, dessert at fore street, and wine everywhere. i think we might have consumed portland.

there were also some beautiful walks around the little islands of portland, surrounded by the atlantic ocean and covered with woodland.

life seemed a bit simpler there; red brick streets instead of hard concrete. it was nice to be somewhere else, just enjoying the wind on my face and the salt in the air.

and then, just like that, he was gone.

the best thing i make

apparently it's april, but i'm not sure i believe it.

the wind is still gusty, the air is damp and cold and just a few feet away from my apartment, smith street is decked out for christmas because of a new garry marshall movie being filmed. there are horse drawn sleighs, water-drenched sidewalks, and festive lights everywhere. apparently it's the christmas sequel to valentine's day, which is a movie i'm still planning on seeing never.

christmas in april? that's crazy, right?

actually, it doesn't feel so strange at all.

lasagna anyone?

whenever i need something hearty to last me through a cold spell, i enjoy making my (soon to be) world-famous lasagna. this lasagna is different every time, but one thing goes unchanged every time i make it: a lotta love.

i made lasagna for the first time almost a decade ago for an old boyfriend who couldn't eat gluten. i wanted to do something sweet for valentine's day, and i got inspired while perusing the rice noodle section of the health food store. i figured he probably hadn't had a lasagna in a long long time, and a meal with several layers of carbs in it it seemed like the perfect romantic gesture. at first i was overwhelmed; a lasagna sounded complicated--so many layers, so many choices! there were white lasagnas with béchamel sauce, red lasagnas with 10 layers of cheese, and vegan ones with tofu and nut cheese. eventually, i decided to abandon all recipes, and just go with my gut. i used ingredients that i thought sounded good, and the result was better than everything i had ever made before. in fact, i still think that lasagna is THE BEST THING I MAKE.

the prep usually takes about an hour, and that's partially because i enjoy making it so much that i usually take my time with it. any vegetables at all will do, but the key is using a lot of them. i almost always include a layer of spinach and a layer of portabella mushrooms. i also always make a homemade pesto and add that into one of the layers. sometimes i like to puree sun-dried tomatoes into the ricotta. this is what's so great about lasagna; it can be totally improvised.

the last time i made it, which was a few weeks ago, i included a layer of sweet potato, which i thought was excellent.

as you can see, i sliced them and laid them atop the ricotta, which was a really nice base for the bottom portion of the lasagna. i did another layer of noodles on top of the sweet potatoes with the mushrooms and pesto, and on top of those was another layer of noodles with spinach and eggplant. the eggplant in the lasagna is my secret weapon. i roast it over the the open flame on one of the burners of my oven until the skin is completely charred. once this is done i put it in a closed container for awhile until it has cooled off. once it's ready, i rinse off the outer layer of the burnt skin, which reveals the now smoky flesh. the heat changes the flavor of the eggplant and it becomes earthy and  peaty, which brings a really delicious component to the lasagna (especially with the contrasting bright pesto.) i also like to add some fresh basil leaves in there somewhere.

the top layer of the lasagna has tomato sauce and of course, melted cheese. i used only mozzarella this time but sometimes i like to add some goat cheese as well. once everything is perfectly piled the lasagna goes into the oven for about 40 minutes at 350 degrees. it's important to make sure the noodles are soft, the cheese is melted,  and all the vegetables are cooked through.

i always make enough to feed a small army, which is great because i tend to live off of it for awhile. lately i've been using whole wheat noodles, which i think taste just as good. despite being so decadent, this lasagna is super healthy. i don't go crazy with the cheese and low-fat ricotta tastes just as good. the left-overs can go in the freezer, and always make a perfect dinner on a chilly april evening. 

happy holidays!

leave no sample unturned: the nyc vegetarian food festival

yesterday marked the first ever nyc vegetarian food festival. it turned out to be a beautiful day, and as the festival was free and advertised delicious sampling from a plethora of veggie-friendly vendors, every vegetarian in all of new york city turned up. and their mommas. yep. mark and i arrived around noon and the line was already wrapped around the next block. not wanting to miss out on the magical treats that lay within the altman building on 18th street, we decided to stick it out along with the other hungry vegan masses. an hour and a half into our wait we were hungry and grumpy, but too stubborn to abandon our posts.  i decided to get into another line, which was for famed jersey-based vegan food truck, cinnamon snail.  now in directionally opposing lines, we waited and waited. friends came to join us in our quest and finally, minutes before we entered the food festival i returned to the main line with provisions; a barbecue seitan and kimchee creation in a tortilla, and a miso teriyaki seitan sandwich for mark. also, vegan apple cider donuts and a raw brownie. we ate ravenously, as if it were the last tofu on earth. and it was good.

cinnamon snail, i heart you so. please get out of jersey and come live in nyc where your vegan vittles are desperately needed.

so anyway, we finally got in. after a 3-hour wait (yep. yep we did.) i was determined to try every offering in the house. from grape kombucha to raw slaw i tasted each and every one until i emerged sick and dizzy with sugar and soy. but it was worth it. some favorites included a rocking soy mac & cheese from williamsburg restaurant, food swings, and the amazing vegan marshmallows by sweet & sara. peanut butter smores marshmallows = the bomb. i got pics of some other favorites seen below:

waiting in line three hours for a vegetarian food festival may sound like a crazy way to spend a sunday afternoon, but i didn't mind at all. i'm so grateful to the organizers for putting together this festival. it was  hectic to see so many people waiting to get in, and i'm sure there were tons of people who heard "free food" and got in line, but i think it's fantastic that so many people were inspired to be a part of such a great event. i'm glad i waited and i'm glad i was there for their first year. i hope it will be an annual tradition for many years to come.  viva la veggie!!

put a bird on it

watch this.

put.    a.     bird.     on.       it.