Pink of Perfection

On Friday evening I packed up a picnic of cold tuna macaroni salad and watermelon and boarded an evening train bound for Massachusetts’ Pioneer Valley. We arrived in the dark and drank cold glasses of vinho verde before falling asleep. But in the morning, we awoke to a a town filled with red brick buildings and ringed by green mountains in the distance. We ate breakfast outside in the sprawling garden of a restaurant where they roast their own coffee beans and sell peanut butter chocolate chip cookies the size of your head. From there, we visited the kind of huge, creaky used bookstore that can only exist off rural highways, and here we get to the first point I want to make: of course I had to buy the book you see here the moment I saw it, even if it hadn’t cost $1.50. Please note the sentence at the top of the cover.

I got a little carried away at this book store, snatching up an M.F.K. Fisher book I didn’t have, a Joan Didion novel I’ve long wanted to read, and a cookbook that caused a staggering library fine the last time it was in my hot little hands. Sebastian found me a heavy anthology of personal essays. As the shopkeeper rang me up, he paused at that one. “Is this one free or $1?” As I might have mentioned, I love used bookstores.

We returned to home base for rosé and cold celery stalks smeared with pimento cheese. Everyone retreated into their books for a quiet hour or two. Later, we drove a few miles on empty back roads lined with coneflowers to reach a swimming pool tucked next to river. Here, a surly teenager served ice cold canned sodas and greasy hamburgers.

How delightfully far it all felt from New York! On the Sunday drive back to the train station, my damp swimsuit tucked back inside my suitcase, we got to talking about quality of life. How that can mean walking five minutes to your office and having the things you love––swimming holes, bookstores, bibimbap, and really, really good iced coffee––easily accessible. New York has everything anyone could ever want. But to get to those things, we have to travel; even my best friend lives over an hour away by subway.

Some day, perhaps, I’ll settle in that kind of perfect place where indie craft fairs and ethnic food are enveloped by a wide natural world teeming with trails for hiking and clear lakes for swimming. (Any leads on places that match this description, by the way?) Until then, my new goal is to focus on the living the charmed life at hand. That means sprucing up the apartment I actually live in (instead of dreaming about moving), climbing in bed with an old novel, its brittle, brown pages and that wonderful old book smell, lulled to sleep with the story of what happens when a group of Bohemians face up to love.

I wanted to send you guys off to a fabulous weekend with some of the upbeat songs I’ve been listening to as I wash the dishes, go for a run, or imagine myself in a convertible with the top down. Hope they provide a soundtrack to some awesome weekend adventures!

Continue reading “Mix Tape: Super Summer Fun” »

I’m really glad I wrote that post about all the great things about summer, because today, I sorely need a reminder. It is sweltering. I just saw a woman drive by with a wet towel draped over her head, and I myself would like to go lie in a bathtub filled with cool water. I can’t write. I can’t concentrate. I am on a rotating circuit of neighborhood coffee shops seeking out the best air conditioning. So far, the search has been somewhat fruitless.

I recently took a quiz to determine my dosha, and it turns out I am not suited to humid climates. I didn’t exactly need Ayurveda to tell me this, but it’s nice to have my suspicions confirmed. I am very seriously considering moving permanently to a swimming pool. Just forward my mail.

Anyway, all I am interested in eating is frozen yogurt and smoothies, washed down with cold beer and iced coffee. But when I go back to solid food, I’ll turn back to this simple, crazy good meal. I like this recipe because it’s really just a template: use whatever fish, use whatever vegetable. Grill them. Serve them with a rich sauce. It’s like the quickest, easiest summer supper in the world.

Continue reading “Grilled Fish and Zucchini with Herb Aïoli” »

I used to have a very clear sense of personal style, and it involved a cadre of $20 vintage sundresses. But as my early twenties turned into my late twenties, sometimes these bare dresses seemed a tad too costumey and young. My style needed to grow up, if only by an inch or two.

I have been slow to convert to separates, in part because I do not have that magical skill of grabbing this, grabbing that, and putting something together that is chic and surprising and utterly right. I like the grab-and-go appeal of dresses. But after a long visionary planning session with a friend, I now see the virtue of a-line wrap skirts and crisp cotton blouses and low-v t-shirts. Especially because I am in love with the wrap skirt in Diana Rupp’s Sew Everything Workshop.

This one turned out a little less perfectly than my first try, made last year in a light summery linen. Perhaps I was less confident without my mom at my side to troubleshoot. I did learn some important sewing lessons, though, ones I will swear by on all future projects.

1. Tackle a project bit by bit, an hour here, and hour there (that 5-hour window of free time never seems to materialize anyway).
2. When you start to get frustrated, do not soldier on. Take a break and come back to it with fresh eyes.
3. A sloppily cut pattern will result in sloppily pinned fabric, which will in turn, end up as a sloppily sewn seam. It doesn’t have to be perfect, but slapdash work along the way will turn into a slapdash looking skirt.

Wonkiness aside, I’m proud of this skirt. I am consistently amazed by the miracle of sewing. What sort of genius invented that machine, which makes no sense to me in its separate parts, yet somehow works? I do not, apparently, excel at spatial reasoning, my brain working overtime to envision the flatness of the fabric being transformed into a new form with shape and movement. It is so cool. And then there is that sense of involvement that just never gets old to me: having a hand in creation, actively crafting instead of mindlessly purchasing. I love that feeling of hunkering down into a process, sinking my teeth into the making of a skirt, and in some small way, the making of a life.

A big leap there, I know, and I hope I didn’t lose you. But it’s the same thing we’re always talking about here in roundabout ways but which maybe hasn’t been explicitly mentioned lately. These “lifestyle blogs” aren’t just trying to make you feel like your life should be art directed and perfect, that you should be taking the time to squeeze a gallon of lime juice for your next fiesta and if you’re not you’ve got your priorities all screwed up. At least this one isn’t. This blog is about bringing attention the thing things we care about, creating a life that means something because we’re actively creating its delights.

When we’re making dinner and making things, we’re engaged in a process––slipping in via small, unassuming access points to bring a meaningful attention to our lives. We can certainly bring that same attention to waiting in line at Taco Bell for our nachos bell grande, but somehow––maybe it’s the hairnets and the muzak––it’s easier to tune out there. But when we have the cheese grater and the knife right in our own hands, when we hold the scissors and sharp pins, there’s no choice but to pay attention, to bring awareness to our days and how we’re living them. Which, at their ordinary best, can involve chowing down on homemade Mexican food in really cute, imperfectly-sewn skirts.

I am floating on a cloud of farmer’s market bliss. Last week I fell in love with garlic scapes––so spicy, so alien-looking!––and this week I swooned over a pint of raspberries so tender and sweet, I ate them with a spoon straight from the stained green cardboard. In the past I’ve been cautiously drawn to the familiar. But this year, I am striking out. What, pray tell, is red mustard? (It’s a kicky green that’s wonderful in stir-fries.) There’s a whole world of exploration to be done under those white plastic tents standing brightly in the middle of a concrete city at the intersection of Broadway and 14th Street.

But that poetical waxing is neither here nor there, as the recipe I’m about to tell you about has no exotic ingredients. In fact, you likely have everything you need for this dinner in the pantry. Which, as far as I’m concerned, makes it a shoe-in for dinner tonight. It doesn’t hurt, of course, that for those nights when you need a bowl of pasta for dinner––and I know you know what I mean––this supper fits the bill. With the front door closed on the unpredictable and tiresome indignities of the world out there, the salve to the cruelties of the day is this rich, nutty pesto, vibrantly green and alive with garlic, tossed with a tangle of noodles. We may now consider ourselves fortified for whatever lays ahead tomorrow.

Continue reading “Pea, Parsley and Walnut Pesto” »

To be completely honest, summer isn’t my favorite season. In fact, for me, at least, summer needs more of a public relations campaign than winter. I wilt in the heat and have been known to get a bit grumpy when I’m hot. But I do love to cool down with a cold glass of wine in the shade and keep things airy in cotton poplin sundress. So, in order to celebrate what the season does have to offer, here’s a list of many of the season’s charms:

1. lemonade stands
2. whirring vintage fans
3. sundresses
4. fireflies
5. wildflowers by the highway
6. s’mores
7. easy grilled dinners
8. summer thunderstorms
9. the long, lingering daylight hours
10. fireworks
11. marching bands in parades
12. linen
13. the return of Mad Men
14. cold watermelon
15. napping in a hammock
16. sunglasses as headbands
17. the smell of sunscreen on kids
18. farmer’s markets at their most glorious
19. a chelada on a hot day
20. picnics
21. daytrips to the beach (and the reminder of it with sand everywhere)
22. iced tea in mason jars
23. espadrilles
24. bocce
25. swimming
26. halter top strings dangling down your back
27. outdoor movies
28. long hikes in the cool, quiet woods
29. sandcastles
30. wavy, sexy beach hair
31. saltwater taffy
32. camping
33. drippy ice cream cones
34. yoga outside
35. easy entertaining on your porch or in your backyard
36. lying on a floating wooden platform in the middle of a lake
37. croquet with a pimm’s cup
38. kids playing in sprinklers and open fire hydrants
39. street fairs
40. horseshoes
41. a fresh pedicure tucked into fancy sandals
42. Lillet on the rocks with a slice of orange
43. so-golden-you’d-never-know fake tans
44. visiting national parks
45. outdoor concerts
46. sno-cones
47. big, floppy hats
48. canoeing
49. sheer, pretty make-up
50. vacation, staycation, or just giving yourself a quick relaxation break
51. iced coffee
52. the sounds of the ice cream truck
53. raffia, jute, and straw anything
54. braids
55. eating outside
56. sleeping in tents (in the backyard or the wilderness)
57. crisp, cool cotton sheets, dresses, and shirts
58. the seasonal return of rosé
59. going to a baseball game
60. fresh basil and mint growing on your windowsill
61. homemade posicles
62. sunny days = sunnier moods
63. blowing bubbles
64. getting lost in a juicy novel for an afternoon
65. water balloons
66. car wash fundraisers
67. rooftop parties
68. road trips (and kitschy roadside attractions)
69. corn dogs
70. frisbee
71. the ripest, most luscious tomatoes
72. collecting seashells
73. mini golf
74. lobster rolls
75. state fairs (and food on sticks)
76. flea markets and antique fairs
77. staying inside when you’ve had too much sun, blasting the a/c, and watching movies
78. retro bathing beauty swimsuits
79. country church suppers
80. pretending to be Amèlie on Bastille Day
81. driving with the top down
82. crickets
83. the sound of lawn mowers
84. open windows
85. kids in sunglasses
86. sand between your toes
87. sitting in the shade on a hot day
88. the sound of ocean waves
89. blackberries
90. a cool breeze on a hot day
91. flip flops
92. the smoky smell of people barbecuing in the evenings
93. relaxed attitudes
94. surfing
95. spotting hot air balloons
96. skinny dipping
97. dogs with their heads out car windows, tongues wagging
98. bicycles built for two
99. snorkeling
100. neighborhood block parties
101. the weightlessness of floating with the sun on your face

What did I miss?

image via LIFE

I wish you could have seen me the day I made this tart. I felt like I was auditioning for a Martha Stewart Living picnic feature, but with glaring (and decidedly un-Martha) Sarah-isms: my tupperware was leaking, the napkins didn’t match, and I forgot the salad dressing. While Martha may have you feeling inadequate if you don’t print out templates to label everyone’s mason jar lemonade glass, with me as your guide, you will feel like the Queen of Togetherness if you just remember the cutlery. Perhaps it is only my way of justifying my own inadequacies, but I find the thrown-together, fly-by-night approach less precious and infinitely more charming.

Salad dressing and damp mismatched napkins aside, you can’t take away the raw materials I had to my advantage for this evening picnic: a community garden lush with hosta, roses, and vegetables, a small wooden gazebo to sit under, and at dusk, the brightest lightning bugs I’ve ever seen. Wedges of this rich tart still warm from the oven and Lillet spritzers weren’t too shabby either. And for dessert, Lisa brought a pint of blueberries and the lightest macaroons I’ve ever tasted (like Samoas for grown-ups, I said). Tuesday nights really don’t get much better.

I’ve been wanting to make pissaladière, a Provencal onion tart, for awhile, but it wasn’t until my Grand Diplôme Book 8 lesson on savory tarts popped up that I knew the hour was nigh. Even the anchovy-phobic might be able to appreciate the counterpart the little fishes play to the sweet pile of thyme-scented caramelized onions underneath them. Later on in the summer, I think this would make a great picnic on a very hot day with hard-boiled eggs and a sliced tomato salad.

Here’s hoping you all have a blissful, relaxing weekend perhaps including your inaugural glass of rosé for the season (I think I just might!).

Continue reading “French Friday: Pissaladière” »