Murmuration

WordPress isn’t allowing me to post images right now, so my “cheeses-and-bizarre-liquors-of-the-mediterranean-roundup-welcome-back-to-my-new-york-nest” post will have to wait until WP support comes out of their post-turkey comas. In the meantime: When we were in Rome every night around sunset clouds of starlings would swell up out of nowhere and swarm, silhouetted against the soft slant light of the winter sky, moving like ink through water, like schools of fish, a whisper of wings looking to gather together and roost on some warm marble. Perhaps it was the wine or the wonder, but I couldn’t get over how stunningly beautiful they were. Upon our return, my Mama sent me this amazing video. Apparently, a choreographed swarm of starlings is called a “murmuration”. The word itself sounds and feels like heart, which is how you feel when you see it. Marvelous.

Murmuration from Sophie Windsor Clive on Vimeo.

Yachts Rock

After my jaunt through Rome, I’m off on a Mediterranean cruise through various exotic ports of call, where I’ll be sporting a fabulous one piece, drinking Pina Coladas, wearing a caftan, and lounging on the Lido Deck (see above). If there’s internet on the wine dark seas, you’ll be hearing from me. If not, picture me eating Thanksgiving dinner in Turkey. Ciao, turkeys.

amazing caftan image from here.

Roman Holiday

Ahhhhhh, Rome. It’s official. I’m in love with the eternal city… I’ve been here for a little bit and my visit has been essentially straight out of Roman Holiday. The only difference is that instead of sporting Atticus Finch on my arm and having Audrey Hepburn’s waist (!), I’ve simply been ogling marvelous ancient things, shopping amazing vintage (of course Rome has better vintage than New York, of course), and eating and drinking like a mad fool. It’s been absolutely divine- in the best panthiestic sort of way. Could I live on red wine, speck, gnocchi, tartufo honey, grappa, and stracciata? Yes. Would I want to? Yes.

Roman Holiday images from here and here.

You gotta fight for your tights to party

I love stockings, and I just realized that it’s time to break them out again and I need some new ones (how does this happen every year? do they slink away during the summer when I’m not looking?). Check out this great breakdown of man vs. tights in New York Magazine. They take 11 different brands of stockings and put them through various mechanized tests that effectively mimic “crossing your legs under a ‘reclaimed wood’ trestle table at a hipster place”, “accidentally snagging them on your other shoe”, and “somehow poking a hole in them while putting them on WTF”. All of this happens at FIT’s textile lab, which sounds like a hosiery-version of the dungeon in “The Princess Bride”:The winner for softest stockings were my personal favorite Wolford Velvet De Luxe (these also come in a thigh-high version just to be extra awesome- get them from Journelle) and the strongest were my second “I’m broke” go to- Sparkle and Fade from Urban Outfitters. WIN!

Princess Bride image from here.

Pumpkin Whoopie Pies

My ever-lovin’ Mama sent me this recipe and I have to say: it’s simply divine. On the scale of easy-to-execute vs. satisfying-to-eat-and-share this recipe is almost as perfect as the one for my favorite almond cake. Especially in this late-fall-holiday time there’s something to be said for a sweet indulgence that hits all of the nom-nom-nom flavor necessities of the season, without requiring you to make crust from scratch or procure leaf lard  or go to anywhere fancier than a Piggly Wiggly for the ingredients. We’ll leave that to Christmas.

Ingredients

1 cup pumpkin, canned
1/3 cup butter, softened
1 spice cake mix
1-2 teaspoons Pumpkin Pie Spice (I didn’t have this store-bought, so I just used cinnamon, nutmeg, and a tiny bit of cardamom… but anything in that profile will do)
2 eggs, room temperature
1/2 cup milk

Cream Cheese Caramel Filling

3 oz cream cheese, softened
1/2 cup butter
1/3 cup caramel ice cream topping
1-2 cups powdered sugar

Instructions

Preheat oven to 350 degrees and spray a cookie sheet with non stick cooking spray
Cream together the pumpkin and butter
Add cake mix, pumpkin pie spice, eggs and milk
Beat just until blended
Drop by cookie dough scoop or tablespoon
Bake about 10-12 minutes until cookies are slightly firm

Cream Cheese Caramel Filling

Beat together cream cheese and butter until fluffy
Add the caramel topping and mix well
Gradually add the powdered sugar until desired consistency

This makes enough to share- maybe 20-24 or so pies depending on how large you make the uppers and lowers. Eat your heart out Oreo.

Fingerless Gloves=Awesome

When it gets really cold in my apartment but I still need to type up a storm, I LOVE puting on these fingerless gloves- an amazing hand-made Christmas present from Rachel, who knit them herself. I feel sort of like a runaway, a little like Desperately Seeking Susan, and wearing them inside also gives me a kind of Dr. Zhivago vibe. Add a cup of tea and we’re getting warmer.

Here are a few great options from Etsy if you want to pick up what I’m putting down:

Red Gloves from LitKnits
Grey Gloves from Laima Shop
Green Gloves from GinaMinda

Amelia, it was just a false alarm

There’s a marvelous post on the New York Times photography blog, Lens, about women aviators taking to the sky at the dawn of aviation. Shall we call them aviatrices? Their fabulous stories, daring adventures, and frequent epic disasters are almost as romantic and swoon-worthy as their outfits. Poppy Wyndham (née Elsie Mackay), above, became a vaudeville actress against her father’s wishes and ran away with a fellow actor, scandalizing society- she perished in her plane attempting to cross the Atlantic.

Ruth Elder, who named her plane “American Girl”, was divorced by her husband, who claimed she “caused him many sleepless nights by her transatlantic flight attempt and much embarrassment in New York when she failed to kiss him upon her return”. She, like most good ladies, also packed a mean picnic for her transatlantic flights with lots of coffee and sandwiches. She had to bail out over the Azores, but was rescued by a steamer.Beulah Unruh, below, was a New York City waitress who got her license out on Long Island (she probably flew in and out of Governors Island and Floyd Bennet Field). She estimated that her pilot’s license (and those amazing knee high socks) cost her about 13,000 tips.Such a wonderful place to put your mind, to think about the frictionless allure of sky-bound women taking to the heavens in icy altitudes. See the whole piece here.

Doesn’t this Meerkat look like Woody Allen?

This little guy lives in the Prospect Park Zoo with a few of his meerkat pals, I went to see him the other day and I couldn’t get over his nebbishy little aspect. Imagine him in glasses and It’s like he’s saying:

“Basically my wife was immature. I’d be at home in the bath and she’d come in and sink my boats.”

 

meerkat image by featherbyfeather, woody allen image from here.

Knife Grinder pt. 2

Two things happened: I finally caught the knife grinder on my block, and my camera broke. I leaned up against the breathing diesel side of the truck in the sun, cursing the lens and trying to live a bit in the moment, to soak in every detail. The grinder had four wheels- a rough and smooth grit, spinning, and some sort of wire wheel, still, and a super soft buffing loop, all attached to the portable rotor by leather thongs and ancient rubber loops. I handed him my knives- three of my grandmother’s Henckels (60 year old knives, she gave them to my mother, my mother gave them to me) the paring knife of which had a broken tip since I’d known them, since before I was allowed to touch them as a child. He said “Oh no, these are bad, very bad!”. I was a little shamed. The walls and ceiling of the truck were paneled in thin pine and there was a sweet old pit bull who gave me a sniff and then laid down in a patch of sun streaming through the dashboard onto a mottled green carpet. The grinder himself was a column of grey in worn work shoes and a pair of those Tom Joad pants with the perfectly square pockets that are usually the color of the clear sky but were the color of the sea, he had wide knuckles, a little smile, and a smooth sided anvil that he finished each blade on, a metal whetstone, that made a satisfying rasp as the edges were made perfect. He held up a piece of newsprint and sliced it cleanly in half and said “These are now very, very sharp. You need to be careful now. And I went ahead and put a point on the little one.” He wrapped them up in an Italian newspaper and handed them to me and (literally) winked. It was perfect.

New York City Marathon Of Good Vibes

The New York City Marathon was this glorious weekend. Especially on the heels of marching in the Village Halloween Parade, Marathon Sunday was yet another example of how when Ole Dame New York sets her mind to doing something wonderful, she really knocks it out of the park. We happen to live right along the Brooklyn portion of the route (nigh along mile number 9) and the entire neighborhood was out in force, holding home-made signs, cheering and laughing, ringing bells and beating drums, playing music and singing. It didn’t matter if you knew anyone running, it was just a collective huzzah, a “we share this place and want you to know that what you’re doing is truly awesome”. Sort of goosebump-making-love-letter-to-our-city type stuff. It didn’t hurt that the Emmanuel Baptist Church choir was also out in force- 30 people strong, full rhythm section, guitar, organ, and horns. They sang and as the runners came by (after having already run 9 miles, mind you) they all raised their hands in jubilation. So did we.