In Texas, women say they've got to "put on their face" before they'll do so much as run to the post office. This could mean they are shellacking on an inch-thick mask, but in general, the sentiment ain't bad: spruce yourself up a bit before you go out. But I know I am not alone in the land of lazy youth, and I rarely wear make-up on a day to day basis. As for my big night out looks, I've been relying on the old standbys of red lipstick and liquid liner for nearly a decade. I need help, and who better to help but a friend?

My friend Alison always looks polished and put-together: on sticky July days she's fresh as a daisy, and in dry, flaky January, her face glows. It was time to stop feeling like a slob next to her and learn some of her tricks. She showed me how to do a quick, 5 minute face to look like a brighter-eyed version of myself, and also how to create the perfect smoky eye I've been dreaming about for so long.

I took away some wonderful tips from our afternoon together: that trick that makeup artists are always talking about of mixing your moisturizer with some liquid bronzer or highlighter? Yeah, it takes .5 seconds and not only evens out your skin tone, making you generally less red and splotchy, it also gets you closer to that sought-after glow.

Secondly, I thought you had to use a heavy hand to achieve drama. Alison's smoky eye, though, was dramatic and subtle at the same time. Impossible, you say. Well, it's like this: where I would put one grand sweep of something black or grey, Alison used three different shades of brown to gradually build up color and depth. I was always a bad painter, but applying artful make-up employs so many of the same skills, it left me wondering if that painting of Alison's her parents hid in the attic is actually a masterpiece. Like, she didn't draw straight lines with the eyeshadow (nobody told me not to!), she moved the brush in a circular motion to achieve a fuzzy, fanned out swath of color. It was gorgeous.

And now I feel like a truly reformed subject of a makeover show, since I've done the 5 minute face every day this week before leaving the house. I'm making Alison - and my Texas roots - proud.

Posted by sarah at 10:33 PM | Permalink | Comments (14) | TrackBacks (1)

More so than stovetop cooking, baking is central to my understanding of comfort. All I have to do is glance at the Everyday Food recipe for chocolate-chocolate chip cookies and I'm instantly thinking about babies, cozy cottages, and dowdy flannel nightgowns. I wish it were celery I found this transporting, but I have to make due with my lot in life: I love baked goods.

The guy who invented brownie mix, though, scoffed at the phrase "from scratch," and had to have had a bleak vision of humanity. Who but an evil man could take a simple, luscious treat and figure out how to stuff it inside a box left to sit on a Piggly Wiggly shelf for years? If it's something sweet loaded with sugar you want, at least do it right. There is not a single reason on earth why you need someone else to measure out your flour, sprinkle in some carrageenan gum, and cast partially hydrogenated soybean oil in a role real, honest-to-goodness butter should be playing. Believe me, I love a short cut, and there are some things that, if you value your sanity, you should definitely buy (puff pastry - even Mark Bittman agrees! ). But brownies? As your stockbroker would say, "These brownies require a minimal, low-risk investment with big, BIG results."

Homemade brownies are such a cinch, a monkey could make them. These are dense and chocolatey but not overly sweet (walnuts or pecans are a great add-in). You could also go totally crazy and make a brownie sundae with ice cream, glorious Heath bar, and fudge on top, but when something so simple is this good, why mess with perfection?

Posted by sarah at 9:39 PM | Permalink | Comments (11) | TrackBacks (0)

As frou frou as I can be, I only like girly cocktails under specific conditions: on tropical islands, with really spicy food, or during a night of young foolishness. So when Sebastian told me we were celebrating St. Patrick's Day by making green cocktails with the Bourbon Street favorite, Blue Curacao, I admit I was concerned. But you know what? As initially unappealing as a green drink may be, it was incredibly satisfying in a second-grade-art-class kind of way to mix that blue stuff with orange juice and make a green cocktail. And Sebastian said it didn't taste half bad either.

The other two drinks we mixed up for the holiday were more traditional: a tricked out version of Irish coffee called an Irish Lumberjack (yummy) and a fizzy little concoction called the Wild Irish Rose. It also bears mentioning that my sister made us a delicious drink at her apartment the night before of whiskey, tons of sour black cherries, and a splash of seltzer. After a couple of those babies, I was feeling pretty lucky, indeed.

Maybe we're just lazy boozers, but Sebastian and I like our drinks to get right to the point. When we turned off the camera we were sharing our favorite: Bushmills on the rocks. St. Patrick's Day was a good excuse to put some extra effort into our libations, but we don't always need the song and dance of the cocktail shaker; sometimes we just want to turn on The Gossip and dance!

Posted by sarah at 8:26 AM | Permalink | Comments (5) | TrackBacks (0)

The only thing better than cooking for your friends is having your friends cook for you. And better still are those kinds of dinners when you show up - not with the hors d'oeuvres neatly arranged while cocktails are shaking things up in the kitchen - but when the cook is just clicking into action. The kitchen is my favorite room to hang out in, but it's especially nice to lean against your friend's windowsill drinking a beer while something is simmering on the stove. It's all the comfort of being at home without the dysfunction of your family!

When we showed up at our friend Gregor's house his adorable son, Hopper, had already been tucked into his new big boy bed. Even though the party had a lid on it and we spent a lot of our time whispering, I learned lots of good tricks: Gregor puts a shopping bag next to him on the counter so he doesn't have to make frequent trips to the garbage can, the $5.99 you spend on a rotisserie chicken will outshine any Forever 21 accessories at the same price (or, of course, you can roast your own), and you can cover turpentine with frozen puff pastry and it will taste like a dream. If, on the other hand, you use actual ingredients to replicate Gregor's chicken pot pies, you'll be made in the shade.

Even though he used the odds and ends from his freezer (and that's my favorite kind of cooking!), Gregor made chicken pot pies worthy of a teensy French bistro when he packed them into single serving size ramekins and covered them with puff pastry that turned the most enviable shade of gold. I also love that Gregor plays fast and loose in the kitchen. He wasn't constantly consulting The Joy of Cooking and being rulesy about measurements. Gregor just intuited his way through the whole meal, which meant that when our bellies were warm with these rich and delicious pot pies there weren't any extra measuring spoons and cups to wash. And that's alright in with me. Thanks, Gregor! Can we come back for ribs?

Posted by sarah at 9:14 AM | Permalink | Comments (13) | TrackBacks (0)