Archive for September, 2006
Moments of Nostelgia
1:05 pm
Things happen in three’s - a strange but predictible pattern of interpretation for me.
First, a beautiful friend from University in Auckland, who always made me smile with her innoble attitude to just being who she wanted to be. Her life took some changes and she ended up in the US living and we lost contact for many years. Last week I sent out a random email, only to hear today that she is in NYC for the weekend. I am stoked - we are trying to meet up on Sunday.
Second, one of the most influential films that helped me name much of the bureaucratic bullshit that went on around me, of not taking the ’system’ of life as set in stone, of naming the helplessness one often feels - not for the sake of dwelling on hopelessness - but in exposing it so as to reform and regain place and meaning in the world around. Brazil - the directors cut - is showing for two days in New York at the Film Forum. I tend to prefer it over George Orwells stark 1984. Brazil is more grounded, it reminds you that bureaucratic systems of control are alluring, almost attractive in their repetitive patterns. Control is deceptive, not stark and fatalistic as 1984 shows it. I will be indulging myself in a serious moment of nosteglia Sunday evening. I wonder what I will learn from it this time. Pictures and quote from IMDB.
Guard: Don’t fight it son. Confess quickly! If you hold out too long you could jeopardize your credit rating.
Third, has not emerged, hahaha but I know it is about to. Strong sense of it. I love the way life is like this, truly its awesome.
Long, but worth it
September 27, 2006 11:03 pm
Seriously I have never worked out the near obsessive connection between gay men / lesbians and hardware stores. In NZ it was a Mitre 10 that we nearly owned shares in, in New York it is the Home Depot. Even at 8.30 in the evening, the place it teeming with pumped men carrying hammers and socket sets, and lucious lesbians with 60 litres of paint, rotary saws and vicious attitudes.
As for me, fitting into neither of these stereotyped descriptions, I pottered through the many winding and hidden aisles - finding more treasures than a sex club on heat. So I thought I would share with you the solutions to many of my pending problems, all gathered together for a meazly $15.
First there is the issue of noise in New York. As anyone who lives here appreciates, and simply gets used to, this is one hell of a noisy city - 24 hours a day. So when you live on an intersection that has a NYPD Bomb Squard in the street, is a cross road for emergency services, has rubbish trucks, taxi’s and people that honk just because they can all throughout the night - then you need earplugs to sleep! My first ear plugs caused many problems - they were nasty little things that fell out in the night - meaning you woke up with an almighty honk outside and realised one of your plugs was floating around on the floor. So here we are, I have invested in some luxury earplugs. They even come with a convenient carry box, just in case you need to carry them into the bathroom in the middle of the night - how - convenient.
Aahh yes, the stainless steal benchtop, with stains. Sorry but the cognitive dissonance caused by that concept is too much. I invested in the wonderful restorer of stainless reality. Yes you too can become a virgin again with just a little rub on, rub off cream. You do go through a lot of tissues - I should have also purchased a cloth … we live and learn. I am all shiny again.
Doesn’t it just rip your polyester-cotton-blend-undies, when you roll over in bed at night and there is a “creak”. Well it rips mine (even moreso when an earplug has fallen out and the “creak” is audible as well as physical). So the solution to midnight creaks are these little tightly packed felt pads, now placed in appropriate places under and around my bed. Trust me - I will be like the princess who found the pea, smashed it to bits and dreamt sweet dreams about her prince charming all night.
Ok, I have more pictures sitting on the floor than is good for me. My feng situation needs dealing with and rather than investing in mirrors, I opted for picture hooks. Very little to say about this - oh except for the fact that whoever the hell it is that lives the floor below me has a very low tolerance for people who install picture hooks. After 3 being installed she was at my door again asked how much more noise I intended making. I informed her I intended making enough noise to have my pictures hung, thus restoring my sanity. As I said to her, if I did not do this and ended up in a mad rage, smashing up my apartment and finally slitting my wrists, the end result would be blood-seep through her ceiling - which did she prefer? My pictures and paintings are now hung.
You have to love the purse-pack sized WD-40, a universal godsend to remove stiffness. My door locks have caused me problems, especially when I come home. You stumble into the building with your ipod, a little apricot tart from Patisserie Claude, a cup of coffee from Joe’s, the junk mail from your mail box that all belongs to the previous tenant, your bunch of house keys and the exhaustion of the day on your shoulders. After manouvering the 1930’s elevator, being finally confronted with upper and lower locks that are as stiff as a stiff thing, is simply too much. Hip-hip-hooray for WD-40.
And finally, when I came to NY from NZ, so too did my sexy retro love-lamp (not lava people, strawberry love-lamp). Alas it had the wrong plug fitting (and bulb fitting, but that was another story for another day), so without being able to connect to 110 volt juice, the love simply did not flow. That has finally been resolved today, with my new plugs (yet to be attached - I am knackered after all that shopping and typing). So very soon the strawberry love-lamp with do it magic and make my evenings mellow again.
Thanks for putting up with all that …. I am happy now, and all that for a simple $15.
Food is a wonderful thing (especially when you’ve joined a gym)
September 24, 2006 10:37 pm
Ok, I admit to being a little frazzled by the end of the day. The whole New York expectation that you keep on moving and doing something ever second of the day, I think it got to me a bit.
So to settle the nerves I decided it was time for a ‘local’ homemade meal. At home in NZ there is this concept of purchasing foodstuffs that have originated within 100 miles of where you live. So I thought to myself, well how about purchasing goods within 10 blocks from here I live (happy compromise). So, I found a pumpkin and dried porcini mushrooms at Balducci’s, fresh ricotta cheese at Murray’s Cheese and a bottle of Kiwi Sauvignon Blanc from the wine store next to Joes the Art of Coffee.
And just for those of you (Tim) who like to know that I am eatting well, here is the leftover just drying so I can have my handmade pumpkin, ricotta and porcini rovioli for dinner tomorrow night as well (sorry consumed the wine … oops).
Bouchon Bakery - The Verdict
10:13 pm
Nah it was terrible, you should avoid it like the plague, food horrible, service horrible, over-priced … you should head somewhere down the road to be safe, I think there is a Dunkin Donut !!!
If only people believed this - it would mean easier access for me. Alas I am speaking through a hole in my rear-end. Instead I must tell you that Bouchon was a slice of comfort-food heaven. A dream come true to think that you, yes you Average Joe/tte could choose to enjoy this food every day. Mr Keller you Rock for opening this place, it was everything I was hoping for.
The understated nature of the place begins with it being a little difficult to find. Buried on level 3 of the Time Warner Center, in passing you may have mistaken it for an open dinner in a mall serving burgers and fries. No real signage, until your eye catches a tiny almost business-card sign on the reception podium. A little more common sense would have given it away, it was the only eattery that was packed with people.
So funny, everyone is standing at the podium outside looking at the menu, deciding if they should go in (this is another American quirk) … I rocked on past and asked for seating for 1. I got the last space in the restaurant, the podium standers looked annoyed, I ignored their evil-eyes. They have a large communal table for those coming alone, which seriously increases the odds of being seated quickly (and why would you want to talk to anyone here, the food and service is more than enough to keep you engrossed).
I sat at the marble bar, had a fresh glass of iced tea poured for me, a plaited bread roll arrived and then the menu. Simple and to the point is the theme. Great sandwiches, great soups, even a foie gras terrine if you wanted. Yet for me, having made it a few times myself, I simply couldn’t resist the Leek and Rochefort Quiche … this stuff is what sin is made of, velvet and heady trappist cheese custard perfectly set, seriously it was like having sex in public (ummmm no comment). I savoured every bite. And the staff were just charming, I mean Napa kind of charming, they smiled, they knew the menu, they adored the food they were serving. And you know, it’s so nice to have water served in a chilled mini carafe … that’s what its about, attention to detail.
I tugged on the plate at they took it away … but I know it had to end. I thought of stealing some of the guys potted salmon and brioche next to me, but I can’t afford to be barred from here. I paid my $15 (yes you read correctly, $15 for what has to have been the best find in the city to date, and the cheapest public sex ever!). And I smiled inside.
And just to show how much Mr Keller cares, the menu also has something to take away for your awaiting canine companion … baked foie gras crackers (hahaha I almost got some for myself as a bedtime snack).
PS: if the seating part of the eattery is full, wander on 30 paces and there is the boulangerie, where you can collect your Keller sandwich or fresh pastery … mm mmm mmmm.
