Vegetable Pie II

I made another pie with vegetables. When my friend asked me to bake a pie for (what turned out to be) her fabulous summer dinner party, I was stoked. I searched for a recipe at gourmet.com with only one criterion: rhubarb. I've always wanted to use it, but never have. I found recipe that makes what they call a cake, but you bake it in a pie pan, so it still counted in my mind. Plus, the whipped cream called for whiskey, which was an awesome addition. I also altered the recipe to include real vanilla bean instead of just the extract. What a treat!

So, true to form, I'm asked to make dessert and I bring a vegetable dish!

Mermaid Parade

Saturday's event was the Coney Island Mermaid Parade. I went with friends and it was hot hot hot. Apparently many of the participants were also hot. Most of them were wearing very little clothing. I generally enjoyed it. If you want to see more colorful pictures, check the flickr feed. All photos are unedited, uncropped, even. Maybe I'll get to that one day.

Oops-ident

I shouldn't post this here because you'll worry. But you shouldn't.

Today I had a bike accident on a large thoroughfare. I was powering through a yellow light across 6 lanes of traffic (in hindsight not the most brilliant move), when I suddenly saw a car coming at me poised to make a left turn directly in front of me. Brain: "Oh Shit! Oh Shit! Oh Shit!" Body: "Slam on brakes" Bike: "Front brakes are tighter than the back ones." Back tire fishtails and throws me off. I'm lying in the road with my bike next to me. Uninjured. Slightly shell shocked. Lady from the car yells "are you OK?" I said, "Yeah, are you?" She said "yeah". I got up, a little embarrassed. She split. Still made it to work in 30 minutes.

So I went to the bike shop today and got my rear brakes repaired. Much safer.

P.S. Yes, I was wearing a helmet.

I don't get it

How the hell are Ice Cream trucks profitable?

Low margins. Rising costs (fuel and food). General mistrust from consumers regarding cleanliness and safety.

Conclusion: they really are selling drugs.

Plus, it's the only possible explanation of the 10pm ice cream truck drive bys in my neighborhood.

Breaking the Cycle

I had questions about whether it was a good idea to ride my bike when it was expected to reach over 100 degrees today and I figured I'd regret it when I decided to take the train. I was correct. Not only did I forget my subway pass, which means I had to pay $4 cash for the round trip (obnoxious when you have over $40 in subway fare sitting idly in your purse), but it also took eons to get across town. Eons! One should not wuss out just because it's hot. That's why we have water. It just makes me angry not to exercise, so I guess I won't be doing that again.

14 Year Old Boy

I said in a previous post that we can't all look like girly 14-year-old boys (forever), but apparently I've managed to hang on to that look -- or at least that persona. This morning a guy with chisled, split calf muscles zipped past me on his road bike up the hill on the Manhattan bridge. However, after I took (as I call them) the jumps and got some sweet air, I bombed past him on the way down.

It was a rainy morning, so not too many people out on their bikes. That is usually accompanied by some decent attitudes because there's an understanding that everyone who's actually out is pretty serious about their bikes. He saw me coming and waved me on, and I yelled something back at him about 35 pounds. He caught up to me on the road later and we had a nice discussion about the fact that I'm still a 14-year-old boy, and that my bike is more like a sled than a bike (his words, not mine). He also noted that 14-year-old girls do stupid shit like take the jumps too. Point taken.

Coffee Cycle

french press my coffee
delicious morning beverage
i like it a lot

Like many days, today started with a fresh pot of French press coffee. Sadly, I cannot commute with my coffee because as I learned one day with a paper cup from the bagel store, I cannot drink and drive. Not even coffee. I spilled it all over myself including my new bad-ass fingerless gloves.

I saw a bike in a catalog today that comes with a travel mug holder. I'm sorry, but that's lame. What suburb are you riding in and why the hell do you need coffee while you ride if you're just going around the block? There are way too many potholes and assholes in NYC for that to be practical. Drink it when you get there and get over it.

Speaking of potholes, there are a lot of them, and my grubby little monster of a mountain bike takes them like a champ. However, I learned today that my bike is not only heavy, but exceptionally heavy. It weighs 35 pounds! So apparently, I've been taking the hills like a champ too. So even though my boss makes fun of me for being a slave to fashion, I'm getting myself a single speed road/track bike. I won't necessarily go fixed gear, but I definitely want something lighter and more maneuverable.

Ba-a-rack-O-ba-a-ma-a!

The Great Equalizer

Despite many differences in occupation, age, race, culture, politics, etc. in my neighborhood, the laundromat is different. Everyone is there to get down to business. Everyone is wearing their least attractive clothes (i.e. the things that don't need to be washed until next time). Everyone understands that you don't want them to see your underwear and you don't want to see theirs. Everyone has to deal with the same broken or stupidly programmed machines. Everyone has to watch the same stupid movies on the televisions. It's nice to have some unity and some neighborly bonding -- even if it's while you're avoiding eye contact.

Prospect Heights

I have a great neighborhood. There's a delightful mix of races, cultures, ages, income, classes, occupations, etc. Part of this mix is probably due to the rent control system in NYC which encourages people to stay in apartments indefinitely, because staying with that lease guarantees the initial rate or only modest annual increases. So sometimes, when you move into a neighborhood that's an old stronghold for other ethnic/cultural/socio-economic groups, you feel like an impostor reaping the benefits of lower rent (though not as low as your neighbors' who moved in earlier).

It's admittedly a little odd when old ladies at the grocery store call me "mami," but it 's endearing and I love it. Maybe one day that will roll off my tongue too. I'm thinking about going over to the bodega (corner store) to watch the news in Spanish with the shop keeper, but I'm not sure how well that would go -- especially since I'd need nearly everything translated since they talk so fast.

Standing in line

My dad once told me that instead of looking for the shortest line, he looks for the one with the most interesting people in it (so California, so not New York). I think I'm finally in a ((develop)mental) place in my life where I would agree that this is the best method. However, at the co-op, there's not an option. There's only one line. One terribly long line. But today I got lucky.

I ended up standing in line in front of two very rambunctious and precocious children. And since I didn't have to put them to bed or give them medicine, it was just fun.

Annica and her long-haired, towheaded little brother were shopping with dad this morning. After exclaiming, "Look at all the beautiful vegetables!" (while peering into the freezer case), Annica informed me that "Daddy married mommy, and then we had butterflies."

Seems like the right way to do it.

Winter Joys

It's finally cold here in New York, and that brought with it one thing I had forgotten about winter in the city: frozen puddles of dog pee. It's pretty nasty.

I found it!

I found the elusive entrance to the Brooklyn Bridge on the Brooklyn side! Turns out I rode right past it last time when I got "lost" and found myself on the Manhattan Bridge. While the Brooklyn has WAY more people on it, it's a much easier ride. Somehow, it's not just straight up and then straight down like its sister bridge, which you can see upstream. There are hills on this bridge. But that's nice because you don't feel like you're going to die at the midpoint. And it's shorter. Much shorter. It must be shorter.

I think I was in no fewer than 10 tourist photos today.

Bicicleta

I finally did it! I rode my bike to work.

First of all, the weather here of late has been outstanding. We have literally had the same weather as San Diego for three days running. This, while interesting and liberating (from the layers), is also a bit freaky, but that's a different post.

I was a little hesitant about doing it because I'm not a seasoned biker with my 10-pound chain around my shoulders, rolled up black long johns, worn in jeans, and chiseled calf muscles, and frankly, I was a little scared that I might get killed or seriously maimed. However, once I got on the street with my fancy new lights, I acquired a new boldness. I was running lights with the best of them (well actually more like 15 yards behind them because I was following the cues of others).

I got a little lost but still managed to make it to work in less time than it typically takes on the train. And I was also hindered by the fact that I am not the most fit person in the world. I had grammas with tiny wheels passing me on the uphill section of the (very long) Manhattan bridge. It was a little embarrassing, but I was still beaming with pride when I arrived at the office (and back home) in one piece.

I didn't ride in today because I was being wimpy about the rain, but there were plenty of other troopers out there -- including a guy riding a tandem bike alone. That has to feel a little lonely. It's like paella for two or something (movie reference).

New Style

This New Year's Eve celebration began with 2 hours of mani-pedis with a friend and continued into the night with a prix fixe dinner, wine, champagne, and good company. Just exactly the speed I wanted. Plus, I got to wear pants I bought in high school. While that doesn't say anything about my fashion sense, it does say something about my waistline! I still want to incorporate increased exercise into the resolution package, however.

Reprieve

I know what you're thinking: not another post about corn! I was tempted. I even have one drafted on the topic of ethanol subsidies since I read an Economist article about it, but I'll spare you for now. On to another grain-related consumer good: beer!

I've recently noticed a lot of traffic on my site coming from people who are searching for "buying beer in New York" or some variation thereof. I went back and read that post and other than commiseration, it doesn't really help anyone. However, in my discussions of this topic and further research, I've discovered that it's not all that impossible, and my reasoning may have lacked a little information.

Most of the difference can probably be explained by liquor laws rather than space premiums and packaging. There are several different classes of licenses broadly ranging from wholesale to retail and from beer to liquor. A liquor license, for example, is more than 10x the price of a beer (only) license.

There are fabulous places to buy beer and it doesn't have to be too expensive--especially if you expand your horizons to include Brooklyn. Here are a few ideas:

Bierkraft - Tons of selection. Reasonably priced. Amazing knowledge from the staff. Delicious cheese. Tasting classes on Tuesday. These get a lot of hype, and for good reason, but get there early because tickets go fast and if you're in the back of the room, you might not be able to hear, and it's not worth it just for the couple of sips of free beer and cheese.

Park Slope Food Coop - If you're willing to work there and invest in the cause, the beer is cheap and selection is pretty good.

Rite Aid - I know it sounds crazy, but actually, liquor licenses for drug stores are cheaper than for other places, so it makes sense. Selection leaves you wanting, however.

Brooklyn Brewery (Happy Hour on Fridays from 6-11, but either bring your own food or get ready to order from their massive menu collection. Beers are $4 a piece. Fresh, delicious, and cheap!)

There are plenty of other places to buy beer in New York, so don't get upset if you don't find what you're looking for on the first try. Of course, if you're from the west coast and you're looking for Deschutes or some other home town microbrew, well, those guys don't distribute out here, so you'll have to find something else.

Drinking local beer is a good idea anyway, if only for the reduction of fossil fuel use. Try Sixpoint! I'm not quite sure what they're up to, but their website has been under construction for a while now and from the looks of it, they have some plans for change in the rest of the organization as well.

Tom's Diner

Research is a bitch. Sometimes you learn things you'd rather not.

Around the corner from my apartment is a legendary diner: Tom's Restaurant. On the wall in that diner is a signed copy of Suzanne Vega's "Tom's Diner" lyrics, with the words, "I came, I saw, I wrote." It's enough to make one think that the legendary diner is the subject of this song. To confirm before reporting here, however, I did a little research. I now know this is not the case and I can't say I'm not a little disappointed. The diner in the song is apparently the same as the diner in Seinfeld.

My Tom's is still amazing however. They're not open for dinner and they're not open on Sunday (so I, and probably many others, rarely have the opportunity to go). Another thing about NYC that you might not know if you don't live here is that Brunch is the most important meal of the week and many people partake on Sunday. But not at Tom's. Every Saturday, rain or shine, they have a massive line wrapping around the building. They know how to take care of people at Tom's, though. Line waiters are greeted by fresh orange slices, cookies, coffee, and sometimes slices of sausage while they wait. There's always a band (if not more than one) taking up a table looking hungover, grungy, and band-like. And the food is cheap, delicious, and sometimes a little strange. For example, yesterday, I ordered a chili omelet, which as you may or may not imagine, was a cheese omelet with chili on top. Yep, an omelet covered in soup. And it was good.