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’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.
My daily breakfast is fairly humdrum and ordinary (grapefruit, oatmeal, tea) but succinctly displays why I so love Heath Ceramics: clean-lined, simple yet brilliant pieces that make even a measly Monday morning meal worthy of a photo shoot.
I could blather on endlessly about my newly begun love affair with 2nd Ave Deli in New York and the funny, friendly, uber-competent staff there, but I will leave that mash note for the upcoming book. I will though launch up a couple of pictures of Sayed’s intricate food sculptures which live in the deli cases right next to the macaroni salad and roast chickens. Ge’oni.
Here in NYC the “it” shoe of the fall seems to be the Dieppa Restrepo patent leather lace-up “moccasin.” We’ve seen it at Jumelle (where Jan took this shot), Maryam Nassir Zadeh, and beyond. I guess I should say that it is not just the “it” shoe here, but all over the country as I recently tried a pair on at Stand Up Comedy in Portland. Alas, my foot didn’t get along with these loverly shoes. Here’s our question at eat.shop: why are they moccasins? We’re thinking they are more of an oxford… Whatever they’re called, we like.
This amazing terrarium has so little to do with my actual life which might be exactly why I am so attracted to it. I mean, I can barely keep a tomato plant alive. Still these awesome minimalist terrariums make me long for an environment in which to display and admire such artistic creations. Until that day, I will continue love my dusty fig tree. Designed by Lindsey Taylor in collaboration with Atlas Industries www.atlaseast.com
Valentine’s Day has come and gone, but I am unconvinced we need the holiday to send sweet things in the mail to those we love.
Here’s one of my recent concoctions. For those who prefer shopping to crafting, a few of my favorite online resources for sublime, hand-crafted or artist-designed cards are Art School Girl, Binth and OrangeBeautiful and they are all based in my city, Chicago!
Jan and I were comparing notes the other day about favorite blogs and Oh Joy! is high up on both our lists. And knowing how much Anna lusts after any type of paper goods, I suspect she’s a big fan also. Here’s some of Joy’s new designs for Chronicle Oh Joy!: oh joy for chronicle….
El coma, departmento guias? Nope. These are a series of fictional books sold in Mexico with a strong sense of style. Remind you of anything?
A couple of weeks ago I went down to Gearhart, Oregon for my beloved friend Chris’s 50th birthday party. This was a hot damn fun party, i.e. dancing like crazed teenagers doing the African Anteater Dance to Peter Frampton (yes, you can dance to “Do You Feel Like We Do”) and eating (no surprise as Chris is a chef) fantastic Mexican fare.
Then there was the house that Chris rented for the party. Probably circa early 1900’s, shingled and properly weathered, looking like what a beach house should look like. It sits plopped smack dab in the middle of Gin Ridge—origin of name obvious. The inside is littered with family mementos and trinkets that all had an intriguing providence. But the highlight of this house was the dining room. It was a ’40s fantasy of pink. I kept up looking for my Grandmother Leona to step out of the kitchen with a dish of German sausage and some lemon bars.
This room made me goofy happy. Of course the gorgeous birthday cake acting as the ultimate pink dining room accessory helped a bit.