Pink of Perfection

As soon as I read the subtitle I knew it was for us: Simple, Splendid Food that French Women Cook Every Day. Yes, please! This is a cookbook that eschews grand to-dos and difficult preparations in favor of bringing the special into the everyday, or as author Wini Moranville puts it, ce soir. Cassoulet is made approachable and ingredients lists become procurable, all while still staying true to the soul of French cooking (no cans of this or that here). There’s a spirit in this book that I found infectious and inspiring. Go ahead, add a flourish to a simple pork chop (it takes an extra minute or two), make do with what you have (use the maple syrup instead of honey, if that’s what’s on hand), and open the front door to your friends, even if all you offer is a glass of wine and a hunk of cheese. And that, perhaps, was my favorite moment of the book: when a wise cookbook author reminds us we don’t always have to cook. “If the task of cooking up something for a simple drink is going to keep you from inviting someone over,” she advises, “then don’t cook––but pick up the phone anyway.” Leave a comment by midnight EST, Sunday, January 22 to win a copy. One Pink of Perfection reader will be chosen at random. Bonne chance!

Update 1/23: Congrats to the lucky, Sara! And thanks to all for entering!

On this very happy Friday, I thought I’d share with you a recently-discovered pretty. I found these vintage-y Frenchified notebooks in a quirky little notions shop in midtown. But in addition to the gorgeous covers, I think what I like most about them is how slim they are. The pressure is off to live big and record a lot; there are only a few pages to scribble down some thoughts about your life today. I like that, if partly because it feels less like you’re toting along the diary of your innermost feelings, and more like you’re just some smart lady who has so many good ideas for her next novel or poem or custom dress design with a peplum, she’s just got to jot them down before she flies off to a hot date at a cozy wine bar. Right?!

And so happy Friday to all of you! My new end of the week ritual is to walk down to the coffee shop in the sunshine and chat with the radiantly charming barista. Then I walk back home with my extremely caffeinated beverage and use her music choice of the day to seed a Pandora station. Last week it was Aretha, and today––bless her––it’s Stevie Wonder.

Do you have any awesome let’s-get-this-weekend-started-right rituals? Happy weekend, all!

I think old stuff is charming––the junkier, the better. This makes it very hard for me to cover ground on road trips because every giant billboard on a lonely stretch of country road for flea markets and antique malls makes me want to pull off at the next exit and dig through dusty, musty piles.

This is how I found a Girl Scout Handbook with awesome illustrations from the ’30s, my beloved turquoise typewriter, and the little lidded alpine dish that I pull my Splenda out of every morning. This is my favorite way to shop but sometimes, in a pinch, Etsy will do.

Vintage baby stuff is dear, and old French things, as we know, can have an irresistible sort of charm. Put them together and we’re talking, whoa: a match made in heaven.

Another thing about little vintage knickknacks here and there: when you’re largely shopping at places like IKEA for furniture and big ticket items, a little vintage toy on the windowsill or an old floral dish on the table can bring a big dose of history and charm to a space. It’s the kind of touch that really makes a house a home. And that even grown-ups can get behind.

Happy weekend!

Do you ever have such a vivid picture in your mind’s eye, even thought you know you’ve never actually seen it in real life? When I see these string shopping bags, I can smell the salty air. A woman is in the sunny South of France, or maybe walking cobblestones on a foggy day in Dijon. She is headed to the outdoor market, and when she arrives, she pulls the string shoppers out from her purse and hooks them over her wrist, still empty. She walks among the stalls wearing a brown leather belt and a linen skirt with wrinkles across her lap from when she sat reading a book by the open window earlier that morning. Her hair is pulled back in two clips, and she is smelling the air and feeling the warm sun on her forearms. She picks up a round piece of fruit, chats with a vendor, tucks a head of wet, leafy greens into her bag. The bags expand as she drops in a wedge of soft cheese, garlic, a small bottle of milk, and perhaps some shiny fish fillets wrapped in stiff paper. And when the bags are heavy and filled, she walks back the way she came––in the sunshine, or in the fog––strong-armed, on her way home to make a fine lunch.

Can’t you just see it?

Happy weekend, friends! I’ll be away from my kitchen and living vicariously through yours: What’s on your kitchen agenda?

I interrupt your thoughts about spiritual and emotional growth to share with you what I think just might be the prettiest pale pink polish I’ve ever seen. It’s like a ballerina’s tutu, more pink than white (as so many pale pinks can be), whisper sweet and soft as gossamer. It’s the pink of my natural nail bed so it looks very neat and clean-looking, making it basically the most perfect neutral ever. Wear it with a ’50s frock or leather and studs, like a Left Bank girl with a bad attitude. Also? It’s called “No Pre-nup.” Terrible, but hilarious.

I have not cooked a French recipe in several weeks, so we will just have to delight ourselves today not with food but with darling tote bags. I like to keep a tote bag (filled with yet more tote bags) hanging by the front door for carrying library books, groceries, sweaty gym clothes, and a farmer’s market haul. How charming to have one graced with the visage of one of my favorite actresses, and an homage to one of my favorite films? (And if Audrey’s more, um, your bag, they’ve got her, too.)

What delights and fun are on the agenda for this weekend? We’re looking at our annual April snowstorm in New York, which I’m trying to see as a last chance to enjoy the best things about winter. And you? What magic is in store?

Screenprinted Anna Karina tote bags available from doodlebag on Etsy

We’re on day two of no sunshine in my part of the world, and I am very much feeling the effects. Despite the neon daffodils in the bedroom and the fragrant pink hyacinths on the dinner table perfuming the entire apartment, these are dark days. The snow has melted and the cozy hot chocolate evenings are behind us, but the warm bright days of spring still not yet here; this is not what I would call seasonal easy street. It’s a tough transition. And you know how I am with transitions.

Here’s an idea for any of you struggling with a dark patch, seasonally or emotionally. Someone offered me a bit of radical advice last night that I found liberating, empowering: what if we didn’t pathologize our bad moods and dark days? What if we just gave them space to be and, in time, to pass? Accepted them for what they are, and then let them run their course––no judgments.

We live in such a happy face culture that a bad day can feel downright dangerous, threatening to our efforts at happiness and sense of progress. No matter how many times it happens, I worry that a bad mood marks the beginning of The New State of Things: the first day in a long life of misery. But our paths in work, in love, and in life, as I have to learn time and again, are not on a funicular-like course of continuous, rising ascension. We take two steps forward, two steps back. And then four steps forward. And then a little step back. And on and on.

Another aspect of happy face culture? We love to see things in black and white. Happy=good. Blue=bad. In meditation, I am trying to imagine my thoughts as if they were passing images on a dim, black and white movie screen. What if we approached our moods with the same sort of detachment? What if we let them play out, not worrying that any bad feeling is tightly knotted to our core sense of ourselves and what it means to be us?

And what has this to do with cassoulet? Perhaps not all that much, except I can’t imagine a better recipe for these cold, gray days of March. Whereas by the end of winter I am growing weary of tomato-based soups, the pale color palette of this cassoulet feels like a harbinger of spring, while the richness of it wards against the cold edge of dreary days. I liked this so cassoulet so much, and it so affordable compared to stocking up on duck confit, that I’m not sure I feel a reason to ever make the traditional version. It’s all about the garlicky, homemade breadcrumbs.

Happy––or unhappy––weekend, friends. No judgment.

Continue reading “French Friday: Vegetarian Cassoulet (and My New Approach to Bad Moods)” »

It is very gray, rainy day here in Brooklyn. So gray in fact, that if I walked up to the corner of 15th Street and Prospect Park West, where the street curves into a traffic circle and the dun-brown façade of a large apartment building curves along with it, I might even think I were in Paris. Perhaps because I had just had an engagement ring slipped on my finger, but I think of that time in Paris as being so alive: my senses wide open, and at the same time, a kind of quiet consideration coated our days, a reserved thoughtfulness. Maybe that’s just what rain streaming down window panes does to me, though––this morning perfect evidence.

For this week’s French Friday, I offer up a recipe that can be described in one word: wonderful. It is rich with the  flavor of rosemary and musky mushrooms and still subtle at the same time. A couple of eggs in the ingredients list make this lovely as a brunch dish or for dinner on a cold and rainy night like this one. Though at our house, I happen to know Chinese delivery is on the menu tonight. What can I say? After a week of cooking quick weeknight dinners (I have so many successes to share!), I’m ready to take the night off.

Let’s talk about this weekend (and isn’t it funny how a short week like the one we Americans just had often feel the longest? I woke up yesterday morning certain it was Friday. Ouch.), and revisit my favorite game of looking-forward and casting aside: What are you doing this weekend? What aren’t you doing?

Continue reading “French Friday: Mushroom and Greens Gratin” »