Sunday, April 10, 2011

Stumbling Upon Greatness...

So it’s after that show at Terminal 5 and the hottie you shared a cig with turned out to be a Craigslist “missed connection.” Why not drown your sorrows and sober up with some carbs and caffeine before heading back to the outer borough whence you came?


A drunken stroll away is a tiny Indian joint called Desi Deli where there’s nary a bespoke plaid shirt, but quality basic Indian food on the cheap. Just ask the cabbies that keep it in business.

Yeah, it’s a little grungy. It might even be a health risk. But so are you. Don’t let the liquid courage you consumed in the quest of “the one that got away” go to waste. Buck up and step inside.

Though the Tikka Masala is mighty tasty, you might want to forgo it tonight. Ask instead for roti. This made-to-order bread will not disappoint and for a buck it’s easy on the wallet.

You can’t go wrong ordering chai, either. Don’t say “chai tea” – that’s like saying “beer beer.” Chai is tea. Or didn’t you learn that at your liberal arts college? Except it’s made with a real cardamom seed, not a mix.

So you’re not like the other clientele. Embrace it. Don’t get your food to-go. Sit down. Strike up a conversation with your taxi-driving neighbor. Maybe you can persuade him to drive you out to Bed-Stuy or wherever it is you couch surf.

Desi Deli 724 10th Ave, NY, 10019

Sunday, April 3, 2011

Jigga What?

I'm doing a "webinar" tomorrow. It's a terrible word. Webinar? Really? I mean, I get the etymology: web-based seminar. But I don't like the word. How about "websem"? That would actually be faster to say. I realize it's a battle I've already lost. I also realize that it violates my "no rant" policy for this blog. Please forgive me.

Saturday, April 2, 2011

How do you say it?

Do you know how to pronounce this? I learned when I was about 8 or 9. Most of the pencils in our house growing up were from the Brunschwig and Fils showroom at ADAC (the Atlanta interior design center). They were very liberal with their writing utensils and my mother brought a lot home. There are still a few floating around my parents' house even though my mother died 14 years ago.

People who had doctor dads would have pads of paper with medication names at the top. We had these pencils because my mom was an interior decorator. I think a lot of women of a certain age with good taste become decorators. More of the "help me redo my den now that the kids are off at college" variety rather than the "work with my architect to design the entire interior of my 27 room home in Alpine NJ" sort of thing. That was my mom, anyway. She did lots of smaller jobs for her friends more than anything else.

 I don't know whether my mom took any design courses, but she did have a good eye. I enjoyed going to ADAC with her as a kid. The diffrent showrooms were beautiful and quiet. Like libraries, in a way. I'd flip through the samples in various showrooms while she did her work. I'd always be the only kid in the place, which was kind of a cool feeling. Like I wasn't supposed to be there, that my mom and I were breaking some unspoken rules. I loved seeing the often beautiful sometimes outrageous fabrics and wall coverings. My private game was looking for the ugliest wallpaper in the showroom.

Brunschwig and Fils isn't exactly the most cutting edge; it's pretty safe.  And looking at their site today, it's not really my taste now, but I remember them as pretty great back in the day. By Buckhead standards anyway. Or maybe I just liked the free pencils.

The Breslin's Boiled Fried in Pig Fat Peanuts

Let's come clean here. Pig fat is called LARD. Be that as it may, peanuts that have been boiled which are then fried in said "pig fat" are delicious. At least the ones at the Michelin 1 Star Breslin are.

Amazing. Delicious. They go great with the "cask beer."

Everything is just a teensy bit precious within the confines of the Ace Hotel (including the Breslin, the No. 7 Sub Shop etc.) but I'm not complaining. I'm a fan even if I'm not a true hipster like most of the lobby inhabitants.

Friday, April 1, 2011

Secret Movie I Love: Over the Edge (1979)

What is it that I love about this film? The clothes and hair? The casting to age? The disaffected youth? Dystopia? The closing song over the credits? Yes to all.