One would hope in the absence of perils such as hunger, homelessness, or lovelessness, we would be happy. Too often our highly evolved selves teeter quite near the top of Maslow's pyramid, and we find our needs not as simple as they could be. Happiness, self-esteem, and excitement should rule the day, or at the very least, we should not be unduly mired in ennui, ridden with anxiety and self-doubt. When we are unreasonably unwell, thank heavens we have people to tell us to take off our shit-colored glasses (thank you, Sebastian) and give ourselves a treat (thank you, Mom).

My treat lay at the flower shop. I bought a bouquet of heady roses that are the very pink of perfection and an armload of paperwhite bulbs to watch bloom through the winter months. On my walk back to the office, I passed a police officer on a handsome bay. "Lucky you, you got flowers," he said. "Is it your birthday?" I went over to pet his horse, and his nose was velvety soft. "No, I just bought them for myself." "Good for you. You gotta celebrate. Everyday above ground is a good day, right?" I smiled up at him. "Right," I said.

Usually I turn to fortune cookies and horoscopes for dime store philosophy, but this police officer had spoken the truest words I had heard all day. Smiling to myself with gratitude, I took a turn and accidentally ended up on the wrong street. I admired the bathing suits in the window of Eres, envied a vintage red Schwinn locked to a stop sign, and sidestepped uneven cobblestones.

A random assortment of sensuous treats -- nuzzling the horse, smelling my roses, discovering new streets worth exploring -- had combined to create lenses that were a lot more rose-colored than shit-colored. I felt open to the world and all its unknown, unpredictable delights again.

The roses, their ivory petals tinged with pink, sit by my computer monitor and keep me sane from 9-5. The bulbs are taking root in my apartment. Using fabric remnants and leftover trimmings, I recycled some old soup and bean cans into impromptu flower pots.

For your own, glue fabric scraps or leftover wrapping papers unto a tin can and trim with sewing basket odds and ends. Then pour a bit of gravel in the bottom of each vessel you are using, place a bulb inside, and surround with more rocks about 3/4 of the way up the sides of the bulb until it is securely anchored. Watch over the weeks as they shoot up strong green stalks and then bloom into an intoxicating bouquet. Watch, too, as the slightest alterations in your routine can make a world of difference in your perspective.

Posted by sarah at 5:40 PM | Permalink | Comments (14) | TrackBacks (0)

On her popular blog the Wednesday Chef, Luisa tests recipes from the New York Times and Los Angeles Times food sections. It's an idea I've loved since the moment I first became a loyal reader of her elegant, playful prose. When I asked Luisa to be a Guest Cook on Pink of Perfection, I had no idea I would become so enamored of her cozy kitchen in Chelsea, her wonderfully warmhearted nature, or that gorgeous face of hers. I also didn't know I would be eating bison.

Despite the sun-faded poster for buffalo burgers in the window of the all-night diner I used to frequent in college (it was Minnesota, after all), I had never had bison. These bison strip steaks were exotically glamorous (and huge!) and eating them with pomegranate molasses-spiked wild rice rendered our meal both elegant and rustic. The New York Times' almighty Florence Fabricant (the recipe's author) was on to something here. Like an airy, modern gem of a house plunked down in the mountains of Montana, it was a perfect juxtaposition.



So we ran into a few problems while cooking, so what? In this kitchen, two heads were better than one as we successfully troubleshot the recipe's failings together. What to do when your wild rice still isn't cooked after an hour and a half? Oh, just dump some jasmine rice in there and see what comes out in 20 minutes. How to deal with a red wine reduction that just tastes like an unidentified baked good? Add that bacon Florence Fabricant wasn't even going to have us use. On both accounts, pure brilliance.



Bloggers and boyfriends sat down to a meal at midnight that none of us were much prepared to like: too much had gone wrong, too much was improvised and our spirits were dashed. We were fools to not believe in the power of Florence Fabricant - or the Wednesday Chef herself - because dinner was absolutely delicious. The bison was a carnivore's dream - rare and meaty with bacon on top - and the smoky rice added a lovely sweetness. The chocolate pudding cake Luisa threw together while we were setting up the lights was a surprise knock out, but certainly the best part of the evening was being welcomed into a kitchen and finding new friends there.

Posted by sarah at 7:10 AM | Permalink | Comments (12) | TrackBacks (0)

When the weather turns rainy and cold, I want to be snug as a bug in my apartment slurping down something spicy, even if I have been eating a hell of a lot of soup lately. With its rounded saltiness from the fish sauce, a fresh zing from cilantro and lime, and jalapeno to clear your nasal passages, this soup stands in nicely for the neighborhood Thai place when you can't bear to brave the elements. Shallots would have been nice in place of the red onion here, and leftover roast chicken can stand in place of the poached chicken breast. Feel free to work with whatever you have on hand. When the cats and dogs are coming down, you can hardly be expected to do anything else.



Asian-ish Chicken Noodle Soup

1 pound cooked chicken breast, shredded
6 oz dried rice noodles
1 tablespoon vegetable oil
1 small red onion, diced, about 1 cup
3 slices fresh ginger
1/2 jalapeno (if you seed it, you can probably stand to use the whole thing)
3 cups chicken stock
2 cups water
1 red bell pepper, sliced
3 tablespoons lime juice
3 tablespoons fish sauce
cilantro, chopped

1. Soak rice noodles in large bowl of hot water for about 15 minutes.
2. Meanwhile, heat a large sauce pan over medium heat. Add vegetable oil, and saute onions, ginger, jalapeno, and red pepper until soft and onion is slightly browned.
3. Add stock, water, shredded chicken, and rice noodles and simmer for a few minutes. Remove ginger. Stir in fish sauce and lime juice.
4. Serve garnished with lots of cilantro. Take leftovers for lunch and remember the weekend that was.

Posted by sarah at 7:00 PM | Permalink | Comments (7) | TrackBacks (0)

There are times when it feels as if the world is asking more of you than you can possibly bare to give. As your body and spirit start to rebel, the warning signs mount: tension headaches go on for days, you burst into tears when the copy machine jams, you catch a cold three times in one month. Instead of hunkering down and plugging along, it's time to refill the tank that is running on fumes alone. That's when you ask yourself, if I could do anything this weekend, what would it be?

This is what I had to do this weekend. So on Saturday I slept in to the time that usually makes me feel guilty. I woke up relaxed and smiling (it certainly helped that Sebastian nudged me awake with a cappuccino and a bagel). I watched girly movies and read a big stack of magazines in my pajamas. I put on a, er, creative outfit and took a long walk in the autumn sunshine. I even made a baking pantry rip-off of a tremendously expensive sugar scrub (pictured above). I never turned my cell phone on; I just wasn't ready for that.



By Sunday afternoon I was covering our dining room chairs with a gorgeous fleur-de-lis fabric and listening to my favorite Magnetic Fields album. When I went to yoga later that day I wasn't ticking off a list of things to do in my head. For the first time in a long time, I actually focused on my breath. I left feeling light.

Tending to yourself isn't decadent, it's necessary. It's important to take these home-bound weekend vacations from time to time. You'll find, as I did this weekend, that it's easier to be a good friend, a creative employee, and a loving partner when you are your best self. And if your best self wants some orange-infused dark chocolate and to turn out the lights at 10pm, there's not a thing wrong with that in the world.

Homemade Sugar Scrub

1/2 c. brown sugar
1/2 c. grapeseed oil (olive oil would be great, too)
splash of vanilla extract

Stir to combine and slough away!

Posted by sarah at 7:10 PM | Permalink | Comments (10) | TrackBacks (0)