After a solid 800+ days of plotting and planning and designing and programming, it’s exciting to announce that eat.shop has its first app available for sale on the iTunes app store. It seemed appropriate to launch with the latest edition of Portland (Oregon), since this was the city where the series began.
And to celebrate our launch into the app age, this first one is priced an introductory 99¢. Less than a scoop of gelato from Capogiro in Philadelphia, less than a yard of ribbon from French General in Los Angeles. Less than the $3.99 that the apps will be in the future. Okay, enough of this less stuff. Let’s talk about more.
The new eat.shop portland 5ed app is more than pretty, it’s useful. It allows you to do all the useful app type things: note which businesses you covet, show what’s around them, show what’s nearby your location, call the businesses lickety-split. Need we say more? Only this - Get thee to the app store
…but the eat.shop spring 2010 releases are (almost all) here! The 3rd edition of eat.shop los angeles and the 2nd edition of eat.shop twin cities are in our warehouse and ready to ship into your hot little hands. And speaking of hot, the 2nd edition of eat.shop paris which has been hotly anticipated, almost to the burning point, will be in our warehouse later this week, with the 2nd big, juicy edition of eat.shop nyc hot on it’s heels, ready to ship by the end of the month. And so there’s something in July to anticipate other than the 4th, the 2nd edition of eat.shop san francisco will be shipping mid-month.
For eight years now I’ve been coming to Palm Springs for spring vacation with my husband and daughter. It’s a pretty swell set-up as my parents spend the entire month of March in PS at a house they rent in the Deepwell section of town, and we invite ourselves along.
Though there’s a decent amount of things to do in the area, we tend to turn into pool-dwelling, sun-worshipping (we do live in Oregon after all), trashy-book reading sloths. When we do bust out of our routine it’s usually to the mini-golf range where my mother is known to throw tantrums and my husband does creative score-keeping.
Yesterday I decided to get my mother and nine-year-old daughter out of the house. First stop, Cheekys, for a mind-blowingly good breakfast. I had not only the eggs benedict with poached eggs, braised arugula and bacon on a cheesy biscuit, but also a buttermilk corn blueberry pancake. This pancake was easily the most delicious pancake I’ve ever eaten. The corn part of the cake was kernels of corn in the batter, and it added an incredible texture. I’m right now thinking of getting up and heading there.
After waddling out of breakfast, we went searching for desert wildflowers. Specifically the hairy sand verbena. What better way to spend a morning than driving down dirt roads in the desert trying to spot a small, fuzzy plant. We understood from the local paper that this is primo wildflower season, and my mother was key to see all of the purpley widlflowers. Of course we found only yellow wildflowers that looked to be more in the weed category. This incredibly cool three-pronged yellow sunburst was discovered by my mother though, and I do think it was a find.
Though it is only 20 or so days til spring and we have had an entire Olympics since Punxsutawney Phil did or didn’t see his shadown, NYC is crippled by a late winter storm. This makes trying to get out of town panic-attack inducing. My phone’s vibrate function is now nearly broken from two days of text messages about flight delays and cancellations. The latest crippled buzz: another cancellation.
This inconvenience buys 26 more hours in NYC. On most days of the years, this would be more like a lucky treat, than a major inconvenience. But when it’s impossible to get a cab and walking to the subway is through more snow than the nordic combined track has in Vancouver, you start to think strategically.
The way my mind works is to think about proximities. Where do I want to spend a long, isolated winter day where the most that is asked of me is if I would like another beer? Easy answer. The ultra-cozy and ultra-satisfying Diner in Brooklyn. So I call a friend who lives across the street there and is conveniently out of town for work. I move into his killer apartment and start planning my lunch and dinner at Diner and be ultra thankful for the kindness of friends.
Six 16 0z bottles of oil later, these russet French fries and this buttermilk fried chicken (thanks to Thomas Keller’s Ad Hoc at Home cookbook) were served up to me by my husband for my birthday dinner. So insanely delicious, so ridiculously indulgent, this seemed more like a Last Meal than a Birthday Meal.
It’s been glorious living in Hawaii since November 22nd 2009 in my little shack right on the beach. No electricity, no running water. Spending everyday eating fresh fish caught by my daughter and husband with their hand-whittled spears.
Okay, fine. This was just a fantasy and I’ve actually been at home in rainy Portland, Oregon for the last three or so months glued to my kitchen counter working on the upcoming Spring eat.shop titles for Paris, New York City, Los Angeles, San Francisco and the Twin Cities.
Where has the time gone? Certainly not to this blog. But now I’m seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. I’m trying to think of another cliché to add here for drama, but it alludes me. Feel free to add some cliché suggestions…
I just got back from staying with my sister and her husband,while working on the latest edition of eat.shop los angeles (coming to you in May of 2010). My sister Amy and I decided that we need to start a craft revolution—a Neo Craft movement, if you will—and judging from her craft room and studio and her multitude of projects (needlepoints, letterpress, crochet, feather-headbands, jewelry—she has no limits), she should be our leader, our revolutionary, our Che Guevara. For those of you who want to join the resistance, here’s a few inspiring photos from Amy’s workspace.
I have a phobia about certain types of launch parties. You know the type—where lots of C-list celebs show up so they can get their picture taken in their frozen America’s Top Model pose (toe pointed, knee tucked in, gut sucked in) in front of the step-and-repeat and then get a some swag. But when the good people at Club Monaco (where the books are now being sold), asked if they could throw parties in honor of the new editions of eat.shop chicago, boston and vancouver (there’s also new editions for seattle and new england), I changed my tune.
Tonight is the first party in Chicago at the Damen location. Anna will be there, as will goodies from Southport Grocery and Sarah’s Candies. Drop by between 7 – 9p. You will find Jon and I happily ensconced at the Vancouver party this Thursday the 19th at the Robson location from 7 – 9p. Come have a drink with us and grab a book while you are at it. And then Tuesday the 1st of December is the Boston party at the Prudential Center location. Same time as the others. Anna will be there will bells on.
I’m going to H. E. double tooth picks, but it was so worth it. My most recent eating offense was when I learned about the Neapolitan specialty—the sfogliatella riccia, which exists somewhere between a croissant, a strudel, and a caramelized potato chip. This orgasmic pastry is made of thousands of layers of hand-pulled dough and baked around sweetened ricotta cheese flavored with cinnamon, limoncello and bits of candied citrus. Eating one piques all of the sensations. The dough is extremely flaky, better yet crispy, but as your teeth reach the rich center the filling is like the most glorious cheese danish. Oh, and did I mention these are made fresh all day and served warm throughout Naples? It is a good thing I was only in Naples for one day.
This little video illustrates the difference between Paris and other big cities around the world. While in New York subways, a few weeks ago, I entertained myself by counting rats scampering amongst the Dunkin’ Donut cups discarded in the tracks. (I saw 8 in a week!) But in Paris, small impromptu chamber orchestras play pretty music for you while changing trains in the incredible metro system. Ahh… douceur de vivre
