Six months ago today, I was putting on my cutest dress, pairing it with strappy sandals that were no longer really seasonally appropriate for October, and trying to stifle a serious set of nerves -- I was going on my first date with Justin. On one hand, it seems hard to believe that it has only been half a year: I feel like I've known him forever. On the other hand, it astonishes me that six months have already flown by and we fell so in love so quickly. Six months together makes this not only my longest-lasting relationship but also the happiest, most stable, most mature relationship I've ever had.
A couple months ago, whilst perusing my usual assortment of blogs, news, and editorial sites on the web, I came across an Elizabethan-era love poem that made me think of my relationship with Justin. I emailed it to myself where I could reread it from time to time, and I often think of its words when I'm spending time with him. Since I've come to associate it so closely with my feelings towards Justin, I thought I would let it speak for me today, since I've already written at length about my love for this man. Happy six-month anniversary babe!
"My True Love Hath My Heart"
by Sir Philip Sidney
My true love hath my heart and I have his,
By just exchange one for another given;
I hold his dear, and mine he cannot miss,
There never was a better bargain driven.
His heart in me keeps him and me in one,
My heart in him his thoughts and senses guide;
He loves my heart, for it was once his own,
I cherish his, because in me it bides.
My true love hath my heart and I have his.
4.13.2011
4.10.2011
Jane Eyre...
Once upon a time, I used to read books. I devoured them ravenously, one after another, focusing on traditional and modern-day classics. I discovered a fondness for the genteel world of Jane Austen and the wild, feverish ramblings of Jack Kerouac and the Beats alike. Then I went to college, where I was forced to spend all of my time reading books that were of little or no interest to me, until I was so burned out that I more or less lost my ability to enjoy reading in my free time. Now my reading pursuits are limited to food blogs and magazines, and online editorials and opinion pieces on sites like Salon and Slate.
Back in the days when I used to read though, I discovered a particular fondness for the story of Jane Eyre, which I read as a preteen. I remember being so eager to read it that I checked out the large-print version from the library when the regular edition was checked out because I didn't want to wait for it to be returned. Given that the book is fairly long, the large-print version was epic in size, and I remember dragging it on a trip to Grandma Betsy's house because I was determined to find out how it ended. The story of the orphaned Jane, who endures a tragic childhood only to take a governess job at an isolated, eerie country estate and ending up falling in love with her employer, only to be beset by further tragedy captured my imagination. Jane is a strong, passionate heroine that a modern girl can relate to, and I found myself rooting for her through all the gazillion pages of the copy I read.
Given my love for the story, I've always had a fondness for movie adaptations of the novel. Although the 1944 film version with Orson Welles is very popular, I've always found it a bit too Gothic for my tastes; I prefer the 1996 Franco Zeffirelli version (though I've always been a fan of Zeffirelli's films, especially his take on Romeo and Juliet), and I also have fond memories of a television miniseries I saw based on the book, though so many have been made that I'd be hard pressed to identify which one I saw. It was natural then, that I would make time to see the latest cinematic retelling of the story, starring Mia Wasikowska and Michael Fassbender, so I scheduled a date with Lauren, my go-to pal for seeing period dramas, to head to the theater.
While the film was largely faithful to the book, I felt that the plot was a bit too compressed and simplified, despite the two hour run time. The characters' motivations were often not entirely clear, due to the parts of the story that had been cut for time, and I was glad to have read the book before seeing the film. Fassbender's Rochester was a true Byronic hero, and was truer to his portrayal in the book because of it, although I found his performance to be somewhat overwrought at times, and his dialogue slightly preposterous. Wasikowska's portrayal of Jane was excellent, though I would have liked to see her a bit livelier and feistier. However, the self-restraint evidenced in this version of Jane was probably more accurate given the prevailing social norms of the time.
Furthermore, the film did what any period piece ought to do, which is have amazing costumes that make you long for a time when women wore beautiful gowns every day. Sure, it would have been inconvenient and hot to have on so many layers of clothes, but the clothes were so pretty! Even as a plain, impoverished governess, Jane had a wardrobe that was worthy of coveting. The cinematography was also admirable, rendering the bleak English moors as an external reflection of Jane's state of mind. Beyond the performances, the film was simply beautiful to look at.
If you enjoy period dramas, I think you owe it to yourself to catch this rendition of Jane Eyre. Round up one or more of your girlfriends (though I love this story, I wouldn't drag a heterosexual man to see it) and bond over the swoon-worthy romance and costumes. You won't regret it.
Back in the days when I used to read though, I discovered a particular fondness for the story of Jane Eyre, which I read as a preteen. I remember being so eager to read it that I checked out the large-print version from the library when the regular edition was checked out because I didn't want to wait for it to be returned. Given that the book is fairly long, the large-print version was epic in size, and I remember dragging it on a trip to Grandma Betsy's house because I was determined to find out how it ended. The story of the orphaned Jane, who endures a tragic childhood only to take a governess job at an isolated, eerie country estate and ending up falling in love with her employer, only to be beset by further tragedy captured my imagination. Jane is a strong, passionate heroine that a modern girl can relate to, and I found myself rooting for her through all the gazillion pages of the copy I read.
Given my love for the story, I've always had a fondness for movie adaptations of the novel. Although the 1944 film version with Orson Welles is very popular, I've always found it a bit too Gothic for my tastes; I prefer the 1996 Franco Zeffirelli version (though I've always been a fan of Zeffirelli's films, especially his take on Romeo and Juliet), and I also have fond memories of a television miniseries I saw based on the book, though so many have been made that I'd be hard pressed to identify which one I saw. It was natural then, that I would make time to see the latest cinematic retelling of the story, starring Mia Wasikowska and Michael Fassbender, so I scheduled a date with Lauren, my go-to pal for seeing period dramas, to head to the theater.
While the film was largely faithful to the book, I felt that the plot was a bit too compressed and simplified, despite the two hour run time. The characters' motivations were often not entirely clear, due to the parts of the story that had been cut for time, and I was glad to have read the book before seeing the film. Fassbender's Rochester was a true Byronic hero, and was truer to his portrayal in the book because of it, although I found his performance to be somewhat overwrought at times, and his dialogue slightly preposterous. Wasikowska's portrayal of Jane was excellent, though I would have liked to see her a bit livelier and feistier. However, the self-restraint evidenced in this version of Jane was probably more accurate given the prevailing social norms of the time.
Furthermore, the film did what any period piece ought to do, which is have amazing costumes that make you long for a time when women wore beautiful gowns every day. Sure, it would have been inconvenient and hot to have on so many layers of clothes, but the clothes were so pretty! Even as a plain, impoverished governess, Jane had a wardrobe that was worthy of coveting. The cinematography was also admirable, rendering the bleak English moors as an external reflection of Jane's state of mind. Beyond the performances, the film was simply beautiful to look at.
If you enjoy period dramas, I think you owe it to yourself to catch this rendition of Jane Eyre. Round up one or more of your girlfriends (though I love this story, I wouldn't drag a heterosexual man to see it) and bond over the swoon-worthy romance and costumes. You won't regret it.
4.09.2011
Turning Japanese...
Although I am generally no fan of the suburbs, I am quite a fan of a certain gentleman who lives there, so this weekend I made the trek to the North Shore to spend some time with him. Our plan was to keep things fairly low-key, so we slept in gloriously late (seriously, sleeping in never gets old -- so much for adapting to a 9-5 schedule), and in the afternoon we headed out to Mitsuwa, a massive Japanese supermarket in Arlington Heights. Though many of the activities that Justin and I partake in come from either my 2011 to-do list or something that caught my eye in the numerous free papers that circulate around the city, Justin has been suggesting an excursion to Mitsuwa for months now. With so many time-sensitive things on our agenda, however, Mitsuwa kept getting pushed back until we were finally able to make time for it today.
Mitsuwa is kind of like a Japanese version of Walmart, a superstore peddling food, books, cosmetics, household goods, its own travel agency specializing in travel to Japan, and a food court. Justin and I started off our visit with lunch at the food court, which offers a noodle stand, an immense cooler full of pre-made sushi, a "green tea cafe" featuring tea-based beverages and desserts, a Japanese burger stand, and a restaurant offering typical Japanese dishes.
We both opted to go traditional, and I had tonkatsu, a breaded and fried pork cutlet served on a bed of cabbage with one of my all-time favorite sauces (apple-based tonkatsu sauce rivals only ketchup in my affections, and that's saying something), a bowl of miso soup, and naturally, some rice on the side. It didn't look like a ton of food at first glance, but it was surprisingly filling, and therefore a pretty good deal for $10. Plus, it was surprisingly good for any food obtained in a food court setting. I treated Justin to some green tea ice cream for dessert, since it's one of my very favorite things, and I was surprised to learn that he had never had it before. Luckily for me, he seemed to enjoy it, so I suspect there may be a batch of the homemade stuff in the future...
Although the principle reason for our trip to Mitsuwa was to check out the food court, we would have been remiss had we not trolled the aisles of the grocery department and beheld the unfamiliar sights there. There were entire aisles dedicated to dried seafood products, refrigerated cases full of grey, gelatinous cubes packed in water, and more types of noodles than you could shake a stick at, much less hope to identify, very little of it labeled for non-Japanese speakers. Walking the aisles was simultaneously fascinating and slightly terrifying. It was no small wonder that we were able to assemble sufficient ingredients to make ourselves a basic noodle stir fry for dinner.
I did recognize this atrocity of a vegetable: gobo or burdock root, is a Japanese root vegetable that looks like a stick, smells like a stick, and tastes like a stick, yet somehow, according to my Japanese-major friends from college, it manages to be delicious. Sorry, but I'm just not open-minded enough to enjoy food that looks like something a dog ought to be chasing in the yard.
For all of their technological advances, the Japanese can be stunningly eco-unfriendly at times. At least in my experience, they seem obsessed with maximizing their use of packaging, even with small items. One of my favorite Japanese treats, for instance, is Kasugai Peach Gummies, a soft, chewy jelly candy in which each quarter-size piece is individually wrapped. They might be delicious, but I have visions of overflowing landfills each time I consume one. The groceries at Mitsuwa were no exception -- each vegetable was either individually wrapped or packaged in pairs. Presumably all this wrapping is done for hygienic reasons so that nobody will get their germ-laden hands all over the produce by rifling through a bulk bin, but it also increased the prices. The produce was noticeably more expensive than comparable items elsewhere.
Justin himself said that for his usual Asian grocery needs, he prefers to go somewhere that is both cheaper and closer, but I agree with him that Mitsuwa is still worth the trek just for the experience and the food court. If you like Japanese food, and you don't mind the suburbs, definitely give it a whirl.
Mitsuwa is kind of like a Japanese version of Walmart, a superstore peddling food, books, cosmetics, household goods, its own travel agency specializing in travel to Japan, and a food court. Justin and I started off our visit with lunch at the food court, which offers a noodle stand, an immense cooler full of pre-made sushi, a "green tea cafe" featuring tea-based beverages and desserts, a Japanese burger stand, and a restaurant offering typical Japanese dishes.
We both opted to go traditional, and I had tonkatsu, a breaded and fried pork cutlet served on a bed of cabbage with one of my all-time favorite sauces (apple-based tonkatsu sauce rivals only ketchup in my affections, and that's saying something), a bowl of miso soup, and naturally, some rice on the side. It didn't look like a ton of food at first glance, but it was surprisingly filling, and therefore a pretty good deal for $10. Plus, it was surprisingly good for any food obtained in a food court setting. I treated Justin to some green tea ice cream for dessert, since it's one of my very favorite things, and I was surprised to learn that he had never had it before. Luckily for me, he seemed to enjoy it, so I suspect there may be a batch of the homemade stuff in the future...
Although the principle reason for our trip to Mitsuwa was to check out the food court, we would have been remiss had we not trolled the aisles of the grocery department and beheld the unfamiliar sights there. There were entire aisles dedicated to dried seafood products, refrigerated cases full of grey, gelatinous cubes packed in water, and more types of noodles than you could shake a stick at, much less hope to identify, very little of it labeled for non-Japanese speakers. Walking the aisles was simultaneously fascinating and slightly terrifying. It was no small wonder that we were able to assemble sufficient ingredients to make ourselves a basic noodle stir fry for dinner.
I did recognize this atrocity of a vegetable: gobo or burdock root, is a Japanese root vegetable that looks like a stick, smells like a stick, and tastes like a stick, yet somehow, according to my Japanese-major friends from college, it manages to be delicious. Sorry, but I'm just not open-minded enough to enjoy food that looks like something a dog ought to be chasing in the yard.
For all of their technological advances, the Japanese can be stunningly eco-unfriendly at times. At least in my experience, they seem obsessed with maximizing their use of packaging, even with small items. One of my favorite Japanese treats, for instance, is Kasugai Peach Gummies, a soft, chewy jelly candy in which each quarter-size piece is individually wrapped. They might be delicious, but I have visions of overflowing landfills each time I consume one. The groceries at Mitsuwa were no exception -- each vegetable was either individually wrapped or packaged in pairs. Presumably all this wrapping is done for hygienic reasons so that nobody will get their germ-laden hands all over the produce by rifling through a bulk bin, but it also increased the prices. The produce was noticeably more expensive than comparable items elsewhere.
Justin himself said that for his usual Asian grocery needs, he prefers to go somewhere that is both cheaper and closer, but I agree with him that Mitsuwa is still worth the trek just for the experience and the food court. If you like Japanese food, and you don't mind the suburbs, definitely give it a whirl.
4.07.2011
My Dog Tulip...
Often, when I go to see a movie at the Gene Siskel Film Center, it's an experience somewhat akin to eating one's vegetables -- nourishing to the intellect, but not necessarily pleasant. Tonight, however, when I stopped by on a monthly pilgrimage in the name of maximizing the utility of my membership there, I saw a film so delightful that it made me genuinely sad that it won't be getting a wider release so I can take my friends and family to see it again. In fact, the moment I got home I checked Netflix to see if it was available on DVD so I could share it with others, but no such luck.
The movie I saw was My Dog Tulip, an animated feature based on the 1956 novel of the same name by British author and BBC editor, J.R. Ackerly. Employing an illustrative style evocative of the iconic cartoons in The New Yorker, My Dog Tulip frankly and honestly portrays the joys and pitfalls of one man's relationship with his dog. Scatological humor abounds (the main reason why I know my family would appreciate it), as Joe, the main character describes numerous instances in which he has been inconvenienced by the bowel habits of his beloved companion. He also lovingly details the way in which Tulip marks her territory in a scene so uproariously funny, I actually can't remember the last time I laughed so hard at a movie.
In another arc of his relationship with Tulip, he seeks to maximize her happiness by finding her a mate and allowing her what he presumes to be the pleasures of sex and motherhood. Instead, he finds his bitch to be extraordinarily picky, and she rejects each of his pure-blood offerings in favor of the neighborhood mongrel. In the end, the act of procreation terrifies her, and Joe later finds himself heartbroken and guilt-ridden as he must separate her from her puppies and give them away to owners of dubious quality. The lesson Joe seems to take away from the entire escapade is that he and Tulip are the perfect companions for one another, entirely on their own.
Truly, I feel like this film is a must-see for anyone who has ever loved a dog, or ever been unconditionally in love whatsoever. Joe loves Tulip despite all of her faults, and Tulip returns that love with her loyalty and unfettered admiration. Joe may never have found the "ideal friend" he searched for his entire life in human form, but he did find the perfect companion for him in Tulip. My Dog Tulip manages to be lighthearted and deeply moving at the same time, and if you can catch it at a screening in your town, or locate a copy on DVD, I would deem it well worth your time and effort.
The movie I saw was My Dog Tulip, an animated feature based on the 1956 novel of the same name by British author and BBC editor, J.R. Ackerly. Employing an illustrative style evocative of the iconic cartoons in The New Yorker, My Dog Tulip frankly and honestly portrays the joys and pitfalls of one man's relationship with his dog. Scatological humor abounds (the main reason why I know my family would appreciate it), as Joe, the main character describes numerous instances in which he has been inconvenienced by the bowel habits of his beloved companion. He also lovingly details the way in which Tulip marks her territory in a scene so uproariously funny, I actually can't remember the last time I laughed so hard at a movie.
In another arc of his relationship with Tulip, he seeks to maximize her happiness by finding her a mate and allowing her what he presumes to be the pleasures of sex and motherhood. Instead, he finds his bitch to be extraordinarily picky, and she rejects each of his pure-blood offerings in favor of the neighborhood mongrel. In the end, the act of procreation terrifies her, and Joe later finds himself heartbroken and guilt-ridden as he must separate her from her puppies and give them away to owners of dubious quality. The lesson Joe seems to take away from the entire escapade is that he and Tulip are the perfect companions for one another, entirely on their own.
Truly, I feel like this film is a must-see for anyone who has ever loved a dog, or ever been unconditionally in love whatsoever. Joe loves Tulip despite all of her faults, and Tulip returns that love with her loyalty and unfettered admiration. Joe may never have found the "ideal friend" he searched for his entire life in human form, but he did find the perfect companion for him in Tulip. My Dog Tulip manages to be lighthearted and deeply moving at the same time, and if you can catch it at a screening in your town, or locate a copy on DVD, I would deem it well worth your time and effort.
4.04.2011
Spread The Love...
Although I very much enjoy cooking, I very rarely generate original recipes. I like to follow directions from a cookbook, magazine, or blog and have some measure of assurance that the meal I'm putting my time and energy into will turn out successfully. One exception is recreating dishes that I've had in restaurants, either that I particularly enjoyed or that were attached to a fond memory, such as the warm lentil salad topped with poached eggs that I ate in a little brasserie near Versailles and sometimes make for Dad on special occasions. In the former category is my recipe for olive tapenade, a spread made from finely chopped olives, garlic, capers, and anchovies that I like to serve as a canapé at cocktail parties.
I first encountered this delicacy at the Park Grill, a downtown restaurant owned by another one of Dad's restaurateur clients, in which our family has an investment. Since we have a stake in its success, we dine there with considerable frequency, and though their menu changes every few months, the olive tapenade that they serve with their bread basket has been a staple since day one. Having long been a fan of green olives, the spread quickly earned a place in my heart, and I was eager to replicate the experience at home.
It turned out to be a very simple task -- just toss all the ingredients in a food processor and pulse until the desired texture is achieved. The secret lies entirely in the quality of the ingredients; I make a special trip to Whole Foods to find the best olives I can get my hands on. Don't let a dislike of anchovies dissuade you from making this, as they fade into the background and add an extra layer of flavor and saltiness to the mix. Also, don't feel like you have to save this recipe to make for a party. It also works beautifully as a stand in for the olive salad used on muffulettas, the New Orleans sandwich that consists of ham, salami, capicola, cheese, and olives on sesame seed bread. I dislike the peppers and pickled vegetables found in the traditional salad, so this tapenade is an ideal substitute.
In short, just keep an open mind and give this recipe a try. It's versatile, delicious, and makes a quick, easy, and impressive hors d'oeuvre for guests.
Olive Tapenade
2 c. assorted unseasoned, pitted olives (including niçoise, kalamata, green, and 3 tablespoons of pimento-stuffed manzanilla olives)
1 tablespoon capers
2 teaspoons anchovy paste
3-4 cloves garlic
1 tablespoon extra-virgin olive oil
zest of half a lemon
Combine all ingredients in a food processor and pulse until finely minced, but some texture remains. Serve with a sliced baguette or crackers.
I first encountered this delicacy at the Park Grill, a downtown restaurant owned by another one of Dad's restaurateur clients, in which our family has an investment. Since we have a stake in its success, we dine there with considerable frequency, and though their menu changes every few months, the olive tapenade that they serve with their bread basket has been a staple since day one. Having long been a fan of green olives, the spread quickly earned a place in my heart, and I was eager to replicate the experience at home.
It turned out to be a very simple task -- just toss all the ingredients in a food processor and pulse until the desired texture is achieved. The secret lies entirely in the quality of the ingredients; I make a special trip to Whole Foods to find the best olives I can get my hands on. Don't let a dislike of anchovies dissuade you from making this, as they fade into the background and add an extra layer of flavor and saltiness to the mix. Also, don't feel like you have to save this recipe to make for a party. It also works beautifully as a stand in for the olive salad used on muffulettas, the New Orleans sandwich that consists of ham, salami, capicola, cheese, and olives on sesame seed bread. I dislike the peppers and pickled vegetables found in the traditional salad, so this tapenade is an ideal substitute.
In short, just keep an open mind and give this recipe a try. It's versatile, delicious, and makes a quick, easy, and impressive hors d'oeuvre for guests.
Olive Tapenade
2 c. assorted unseasoned, pitted olives (including niçoise, kalamata, green, and 3 tablespoons of pimento-stuffed manzanilla olives)
1 tablespoon capers
2 teaspoons anchovy paste
3-4 cloves garlic
1 tablespoon extra-virgin olive oil
zest of half a lemon
Combine all ingredients in a food processor and pulse until finely minced, but some texture remains. Serve with a sliced baguette or crackers.
4.03.2011
Little Pieces Of Heaven...
Continuing with my birthday weekend theme of things that I love but don't do often enough, I asked my parents to take Justin and me out for dim sum. Dim sum might best be described as the Chinese version of tapas -- it is a meal, usually served in the morning or midday, that consists of a variety of small plates. The majority of dim sum items are types of dumplings, and given my profound love of all food products encased in dough, dim sum is one of my very favorite styles of dining. Any occasion that allows me to appreciate dumplings in all of their forms -- steamed, fried, baked, pan-seared, filled with pork, shrimp, chicken, or vegetables -- is more than okay by me.
As it turns out, my dad has a client who owns a restaurant in Chinatown that specializes in dim sum, Phoenix Restaurant, and it has become our de facto favorite since we can cut the insanely long weekend line and walk right in to be seated. They serve their dishes on carts heaping with steamer baskets and plates, pushed around by waitresses who speak very little English. You more or less have to guess what you're about to eat, unless you can visually identify your favorite dishes, which makes the experience a fun culinary adventure. (Diners with seafood allergies might want to go elsewhere, where you can order your dim sum off an English menu and have it brought to your table. I think that approach has significantly less character and charm though.)
The convenience and charming lack of user-friendliness aside, I also really enjoy the food at Phoenix as well. My absolute favorites are the steamed shrimp dumplings (center photo), full of sweet, firm seafood in a sticky, chewy wrapper, though I'm also quite fond of the pork shumai and potstickers (top row). We selected several new things on this visit, including spinach dumplings (the green ones on the right), which were actually a bit too vegetal for my taste, and baby octopi, which I was actually too afraid to try.
Naturally, we had to sample the perennially popular barbeque pork buns, both in their baked and steamed forms, though neither of them are favorites of mine, given my general aversion to barbequed meats. For dessert came my other favorite: egg custard tarts (top left), which may not seem particularly Chinese, given their fusion of flaky, buttery pastry with rich, sweet custard. However, the dessert hails from Hong Kong, which spent over 150 years under British rule, so a bit of European influence is to be expected, and in this case, it's very welcome.
Full of love... and many, many dumplings...
I love this picture, not only because everyone apparently got the "black and white" memo, but because Dad is in solid black, I have on black with white polka dots, and Mom is wearing white with black stripes. It's a cornucopia of patterns!
In light of the dumpling binging, it's probably for the best that I don't indulge my love of dim sum very often. Going over two years without, especially when such an excellent restaurant exists not more than ten minutes from my apartment, seems a little silly though. It definitely made the meal a special treat for my birthday, and I feel like I chose wisely in requesting it. Thanks Mom and Dad!
As it turns out, my dad has a client who owns a restaurant in Chinatown that specializes in dim sum, Phoenix Restaurant, and it has become our de facto favorite since we can cut the insanely long weekend line and walk right in to be seated. They serve their dishes on carts heaping with steamer baskets and plates, pushed around by waitresses who speak very little English. You more or less have to guess what you're about to eat, unless you can visually identify your favorite dishes, which makes the experience a fun culinary adventure. (Diners with seafood allergies might want to go elsewhere, where you can order your dim sum off an English menu and have it brought to your table. I think that approach has significantly less character and charm though.)
The convenience and charming lack of user-friendliness aside, I also really enjoy the food at Phoenix as well. My absolute favorites are the steamed shrimp dumplings (center photo), full of sweet, firm seafood in a sticky, chewy wrapper, though I'm also quite fond of the pork shumai and potstickers (top row). We selected several new things on this visit, including spinach dumplings (the green ones on the right), which were actually a bit too vegetal for my taste, and baby octopi, which I was actually too afraid to try.
Naturally, we had to sample the perennially popular barbeque pork buns, both in their baked and steamed forms, though neither of them are favorites of mine, given my general aversion to barbequed meats. For dessert came my other favorite: egg custard tarts (top left), which may not seem particularly Chinese, given their fusion of flaky, buttery pastry with rich, sweet custard. However, the dessert hails from Hong Kong, which spent over 150 years under British rule, so a bit of European influence is to be expected, and in this case, it's very welcome.
Full of love... and many, many dumplings...The only problem with dim sum is that it is easy to let your eyes overestimate the amount of space in your stomach. Everything looks delicious, and your brain wants to taste everything, while your stomach groans in protest. Overeating is definitely a given.
I love this picture, not only because everyone apparently got the "black and white" memo, but because Dad is in solid black, I have on black with white polka dots, and Mom is wearing white with black stripes. It's a cornucopia of patterns!In light of the dumpling binging, it's probably for the best that I don't indulge my love of dim sum very often. Going over two years without, especially when such an excellent restaurant exists not more than ten minutes from my apartment, seems a little silly though. It definitely made the meal a special treat for my birthday, and I feel like I chose wisely in requesting it. Thanks Mom and Dad!
4.02.2011
Gonna Party Like It's My Birthday...
Last year I waxed philosophical on my birthday, and didn't feel much like celebrating. Now that 25 is behind me and I'm headed squarely into the back half of my 20s, I'm feeling more positive on life (being in love will do that, I suppose), and I decided that it was time to fete the passing of another year on earth with a party. After all, my cookie exchange reminded me how much I enjoy entertaining, and I promised myself back in December that I would start doing it more often.
I put together a lovely centerpiece for the table using $16 worth of flowers from the grocery store, and I'm pretty proud of how it turned out. I don't even want to think about how much it would have cost to get an equally-sized bouquet from a florist...
The older I get, the more I've realized that I don't have to kill myself trying to impress my party guests with a vast and elaborate spread of delicacies. I decided to keep things simple with a cheese plate, some frozen phyllo tarts, homemade olive tapenade, the world's greatest chocolate cake, and a DIY cocktail bar. I ended up with just enough cake to serve all my guests, and there were very few leftovers, so I'm counting my food offerings a success. Mostly, I'm just worried about the potential alcoholism that may ensue as I try to get rid of the huge beer surplus that's currently gracing my fridge. That, or it'll go bad before I can drink it all, like it has with every party I've had in the past. Clearly, the lesson I need to take from this is that my friends aren't big beer drinkers...
I wanted to make sure that I got at least one photo on my birthday with Justin, so I snapped this one right before the guests started to arrive. Check out the sparkly new piece of bling I got from my parents as a gift!
I was excited that some of my high school friends made the hike from the suburbs to celebrate with me. Here's Stephanie, Taryn, Sarah, and Ashley.
Two more of my favorite ladies: Lisa and Lauren.
I managed to get one more picture with Justin for the evening, and pulled in Jane as well.
I put together a lovely centerpiece for the table using $16 worth of flowers from the grocery store, and I'm pretty proud of how it turned out. I don't even want to think about how much it would have cost to get an equally-sized bouquet from a florist...
The older I get, the more I've realized that I don't have to kill myself trying to impress my party guests with a vast and elaborate spread of delicacies. I decided to keep things simple with a cheese plate, some frozen phyllo tarts, homemade olive tapenade, the world's greatest chocolate cake, and a DIY cocktail bar. I ended up with just enough cake to serve all my guests, and there were very few leftovers, so I'm counting my food offerings a success. Mostly, I'm just worried about the potential alcoholism that may ensue as I try to get rid of the huge beer surplus that's currently gracing my fridge. That, or it'll go bad before I can drink it all, like it has with every party I've had in the past. Clearly, the lesson I need to take from this is that my friends aren't big beer drinkers...
I wanted to make sure that I got at least one photo on my birthday with Justin, so I snapped this one right before the guests started to arrive. Check out the sparkly new piece of bling I got from my parents as a gift!
I was excited that some of my high school friends made the hike from the suburbs to celebrate with me. Here's Stephanie, Taryn, Sarah, and Ashley.
Two more of my favorite ladies: Lisa and Lauren.
I managed to get one more picture with Justin for the evening, and pulled in Jane as well.By the end of the evening, I think I managed to host one of my best gatherings to date, and certainly the largest in terms of attendance. I think inviting more people was critical to the success of the party, as people were more likely to mingle in small, ever-evolving groups instead of congregating around the table and having a single conversation. This way, more people had a chance to talk, engage with, and get to know each other. It seemed like everyone had a good time, and I was glad to be able to bring together such a diverse and entertaining group of people and call them all my friends.
I am truly blessed to have such great friends, and such an amazing boyfriend in my life -- if the quality of the people surrounding me is any indicator, 26 might just be my best year yet!
I am truly blessed to have such great friends, and such an amazing boyfriend in my life -- if the quality of the people surrounding me is any indicator, 26 might just be my best year yet!
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