Barely Legal

After her cameo on this blog, and the stir it caused for pickle fans everywhere, I thought it only fitting to honor our girl's special day. Gather round and wish the ever sexy, always spontaneous (unless we ask her to leave her 10 block radius, hee) Enid, a very Happy Birthday! Many more, happy and healthy, baby.

Just In Time For The Fix'uns.

Here's a list of 10 Turkeys I am thankful I don't have to eat with tomorrow, and you should be too.

1. Cork the wine kiddies, it's Nick Nolte.
2. Everyone dreads their Aunt Babs.
3. Always personality-rich, Mayor Bloomberg.
4. Then, there's always this guy.
5. When in doubt, Jacko, (it's you baby).
6. Oh, oh, Oh-prah.
7. The Lucky Seven Combination Platter: Tom Cruise & Katie Holmes.
8. Eek, Mariah!
9. Please, no carving knives around The Juice.
10. That Hilton girl. Good G-d, thank You.

City In Motion

Behind the dashboard
the city blurs past

a pack of wild bulldogges,
a mailbox with my initials.

What Christmas Dreams Are Made Of

Well, I know what's topping my list for Santa this year. As a matter of fact, I think all across America, little girls are going to bed hoping that this fantastic new Barbie finds her way into their stockings.



Now, I'm sure I'll be accused of being politically incorrect, but really, this Barbie is kind of scary when we look at her closely. She has a beautiful face, though she's made to look as if you could scrape her make-up off with a butter knife. Please, Mattel, for the love of Bensonhurst, release some natural looking head molds. I for one would love to see CliniqueBarbie who strives to look neutral and dewy, instead of the usual metallic, 70s-esque eye-makeup they love to cake on Doctor and even Astronaut Barbie. Seriously, do we need to be glamorous on the moon, or in a space station where the gender ratio is like 11:1, male? On the whole, the company is giving way too many girls the wrong impression of what it means to look good, and when they grow up, it just isn't pretty.





Getting back on track however, it's not the make-up or even the mesh shirt (that I thought went out of style around the time The Hellfire moved out of the Meat-Packing District) that makes this doll so frightening. What really makes my mouth gape is the "show-stopping headpiece" as they refer to it. I say, it's a bird cage. They turned her braids into a bird cage. How completely unsanitary and off the wall. Who walks around with a bird in her hair, besides that lunatic bus driver on South Park? Who would want to?

Barbie, what have you been smoking lately? First the questionable breakup with Ken, and now your African counterpart keeps birds in her hair. Honey, I think your stylists might be flying over their own proverbial cuckoos' nests.

Best. Stuffing. Ever.

Part of my plan for this space is to share a must-try recipe for the culinarily inclined every so often. It's no secret that I love to cook, and though I have an affinity for dessert, I am an equal opportunity Epicurean.

A good friend asked me for this recipe, just in time for the Foodie's Delight of a holiday coming up. I'll try to make it in the next couple of days and update this post with a picture, since my prescribed times and amounts for this one are sort of subjective. It would be nice if I had an image of the finished product. This is such an old recipe, and one that I learned around age seven, so when I sat down to think concretely about what I actually add or for how long something is cooked, I had a hard time figuring it out. That's what makes this stuffing fun, though, it is pretty homestyle in that it is something that doesn't require precise measurement; you just have to eyeball it, and taste frequently. That helps too.

What makes it so fabulous, you are probably wondering. For starters, this recipe got passed down by word of mouth through the women in my family, literally over generations. I am sometimes awed by the fact that I am making a dish that my great-grandmother, whom I never knew, found herself making over a hundred years ago in a kitchen in Redhook. Otherwise, I have to note how few stuffing recipes there are that are showstoppers without overpowering the turkey. Call me old-fashioned but I was never one for sausage or alternative meats in my stuffing, and I think fruit belongs in the pies coming up after dinner.

Without further ado I give you the recipe for simply the Best Stuffing Ever.

2 - Two lb. loaves of white bread, Arnold Brick Oven Style works best
1 lb. butter (yes, four sticks!)
1 bunch celery, washed , chopped
1 large can walnuts, chopped
Poultry Seasoning
Chicken Boullion cubes

The night before you cook the stuffing, break up bread into very small pieces, and place them in a large kettle. Do not cube them with a knife, as this tends to give the dish the appearance of a bowl of soggy croutons. It is tedious, but a couple pieces at a time, pared down manually is the way Gramma used to do it, and who am I to buck tradition? Actually my attempts to fast-track around this part of the recipe actually made a subpar stuffing. Honest.

Shake poultry seasoning liberally over bread pieces, and mix, old-world style with your hands to evenly coat everything as much as possible. Add walnuts (traditional recipe and highly recommended), or for the anti-nut, don't. Set the kettle aside with a thin, clean cotton towel, or some cheesecloth over it. You don't want to seal that stuff with anything that moisture can't pass through; otherwise, again, in the end, soggy stuffing. No good.

So here's the fun part. This is where the kitchen starts smelling like Turkey Day, and it's not even Thursday yet! Put all that butter into a fairly large saucepan, and kick the heat up to about medium or so. Into that melting butter, throw the celery, and stir until everything is coated and on its way to a nice simmer. Cover, and reduce heat slightly. Cook the celery until it is reduced and soft, about 20-25 minutes. Good way to tell is spear a piece with a fork; better way to tell is try a piece. It's so wrong, but tastes so ... oh.

When that's done, you want to spoon it over the bread, stirring often with a large spoon. The idea is coat the bread as much and as evenly as possible. When that's done, it is highly unlikely that the stuffing will be moist enough to bake, so you want to make some dilute boullion (so the salty, chock-full-of-preservative flavor doesn't overpower an otherwise subtle dish), and again spoon over slowly, moistening bread chunks without causing them to meld together. Ultimately this is the secret of the stuffing's presentation. It is flaky and chunky, not a mushy conglomerate lump of bread, which is imperative to the dish's success.

When you are satisfied that everything is properly seasoned, cover tightly, clear a space in the fridge for the kettle, (or if it doesn't fit, a room that remains cool, i.e. a basement or vestibule, just make sure it is properly sealed!), and allow to sit overnight. The next afternoon, kick the oven up to about 350, and bake stuffing in covered casserole dishes, for a good hour on the middle rack. Check the top of the stuffing from time to time -- ultimately your cooking time depends on how dark and crispy you like the finished product.

You could also in theory use this to stuff the bird, however I recommend for best taste and consistency that it cooks on its own. I recommend filling the turkey's cavity with things like whole buttered onions, carrots, celery, Campari tomatoes and fresh herbs; this not only lends a good amount of flavorful liquid to the turkey's baste, the veggies taste ridiculously good when its done.

There isn't much else to say except perhaps, enjoy.

Tell Me Something I Don't Know

You Are a Normal Girl

You are 40% Good and 60% Bad Sure you've pulled some bad girl stunts in your past. But these days, you're (mostly) a good girl.

So it's official, huh? Normal, eech. Bad girl stunts in my past... hmmm. Yes, past. That's it.

And in case you might be wondering: Are You a Good Girl or a Bad Girl?

Holstein Parade

I was walking my dog through the park when a cow crossed our path.

Have a Hypocrite For Lunch

It was brought to my attention that the ACLU, the organization that is currently suing the government with the claim that the recent bag searches on the NYC subway are unconstitutional, doesn't seem to think that what's good for the goose is in fact good for the gander.

At their New York offices, don't expect to get inside without having your stuff inspected. How funny.

An Historic (Silver) Herring Swims Upstream

Because this won't be widely reported outside the city I have to mention this.

I know, it's just a fish market, and not someplace I shopped too often even. But I will miss the smell of that building so curiously placed on the waterfront, by a recreational pier, and right at the spot where you rise up onto the FDR, only to be met with the whiff of fresh mackerel in the morning. Coming out of the Battery tunnel, the smell meant adventure in Manhattan, the big city. Alternatively, driving towards it, the smell had that good feeling associated with coming home... soon.

Maybe it's just me, but I will miss the summer nights on the seaport, weaving in and out of milling people, watching magic tricks and human statues, miscreants, oddities, lights spinning off glass windows and water, ice cream and fish curiously mixing in my mouth and somehow making sense.

The move of the Fulton Fish Market makes me sad as it reminds me that in this city, if you live here long enough, everything changes.


An Update: I missed this on Saturday. Apparently I am not alone in the nostalgia. Also, the photo is courtesy of Martin Fuchs. See more of his series on the fish market here.

Why I'll Never Really Get Modern Art

This is one of those things I meant to post a while ago. This past October I took a lazy Sunday stroll through the streets of Dumbo, for the Arts Under the Bridge Festival. I genuinely enjoy viewing the product of people's creative impulses and living in New York makes this a ridiculously easy free pursuit. This year, the weekend of Oct 15th & 16th, they opened up a lot of galleries, and artists worked on outdoor installations and virtually the whole neighborhood, a charming pocket (despite its being impossibly hip), was a museum.

That said, I walked through the parks under the bridges there on the banks of the East River, and came to this, a picket fence made of plastic-wrapped paper towels. Yes, a paper towel picket fence. Fascinating.

And what was this breath-stealing tour de force held up by bedposts of odd length standing in protection of? Ah, well, multi colored transparent plexiglass rectangles on sticks of course! Maybe I am ever so plebian, but maybe some of the material touted as "art" these days is just a load of crap too.

All told, a really nice exhibition of visuals at every corner, the moon had a particularly stunning rise and it was a gorgeous fall day well spent. But I submit for your approval why modern art will never completely make sense to me.

Pickle Things

Enid (that's Uh-Need) says, "Tickle my pickle."

My Butt Deserves Its Own Blog Entry, No?

The demise of a favorite pair... I miss them already. Denim shopping anyone?

Death by...

I look forward to this every year, and voila, I get sick just in time for the 8th annual Chocolate Show. Perhaps somebody out there will go... and bring me back the chocolate corset. I'll be back to naughty again in no time.

Calling the Hollywood Elite

Well I think I just may have stumbled upon THE weight loss fad of the coming year. 10 Pounds in 3, yes you heard me THREE days, courtesy of the Streptococcus Diet. Gotta lose weight for your next big role? Have a dangerously obese cousin? Quick, give me a call... one wet kiss and they won't be able to swallow a cup of tea, let alone anything with substance, be it from the 21 Club or McD's. Look out world, I am so onto something.

Looking For GOOD Homes For My Three Latest Charges

One of the things that redeems me in life are my attempts to rescue strays and help out with local TNR efforts. Here are three new friends I picked up in my backyard two days ago, affectionately known as Flopsy, Mopsy and Cottontail after Peter Rabbit's siblings. They are old enough to eat on their own, but young enough that despite their fear, they still fall asleep in your arms as you rub them. They all have blue to blue-gray eyes and are each beautiful in their own right, as you can see by the pictures. They are quickly grasping the concept of a litterbox, and need loving parents ASAP.

A little update: after several name changes and still no leads on permanent homes, Tom Kitten, the little brown one, is living in my room. He was suffering from a respiratory infection and needed to be separated from the other two for a while. He's on Zithromax, and is quite the trooper. He stays at my feet so much so that I must take care to walk very slowly through through the room, and spends hours enthralled in a little ball with a bell and playing with my hands, or jumping on the laptop when I try to type with him on my bed. Could the bulldogge-girl be having some sort of crisis of the kitty kind?