Puppy alert!

In lieu of my lazy silence this week, I present an adorable, squishable, mushable, 8-week old Jack Russell Terrier that one of my co-workers just brought home this weekend. How do I love thee, little puppy wuppy? Let me count the ways...

Seriously? Your cuteness is hurting me. I can't wait for bring your dog to work day.

Greek Tapas is fabulicious

My beautiful and talented love, Shakira Croce, came upon this darling little gourmet wine bar while searching for a quick place to nosh before catching a flick around Columbus Circle. Kashkaval, squeezed in amongst other cutsey restaurants, can be found on 9th, between 55th and 56th, about five minutes from the subway. The entrance appears to be a shop with a deli counter and packages of dry goods, but in the back is a miniscule bar and seating area. We caught the after-work crowd at about 6 o'clock, which included a bunch of 20 and 30-somethings chatting over tiny plates of food and glasses of red wine. The waitresses, who revealed a hint of Mediterranean in their greetings, were very cordial and attentive. We were seated in very close quarters with another couple, but there was an ample amount of noise in the room that I felt comfortable blabbing at my normal frequency (not much can stop that, I guess).

Their menu is very reasonable and varied (especially for your frugal bloggerista), including gorgonzola fondue for $12, chicken kebabs for $14, and warm paninis ranging from $10-$12. Shakira and I decided to share a tapas for 2, for $12, which allowed us to pick up to five hearty dips from their 24 different varieties. Among other choices, we ordered eggplant taponade, spinach with feta, red pepper spread, and guacamole. The spreads were served all on the same platter, and a warm basket of whole-wheat pita slices accompanied served as delicious dipping utensils.

We ordered the cheapest wine on the menu, a glass of Montepulciano d'Abruzzo, for $6, and it was amazing. The other wine choices were a bit more expensive, ranging from $9-$10 a glass (hey, I like my damn happy hour). The food was great - we gobbled the entire platter and our bread, and were, miraculously, satisfied from some tapas (which never happens to me). I definitely recommend it, next time you're deciding amongst the the usually overpriced and uninteresting locales in Columbus Circle.

Little library hostages

Maybe I'm just being self-conscious, but I have this strange feeling that all librarians think I'm greedy. Or maybe it's that look they give you when you check out books three days in a row, and wait outside on Sunday afternoons for them to open, and you ask all sorts of questions like, "How long can I keep renewing this?". You know what? I like getting things for free. Reading is my life. There's a WHOLE government system dedicated to these two elements of my personal fulfilment. So c'mon, librarian, I'm going to take out as many books as I can carry! And yes I will come to that free concert series featuring local jazz muscians. Now we're even!

Here are my most recent picks and choices:

Since I just learned about an Anthony Bourdain author event in Union Square this coming June, I was like, huh, I should read one of his books. A good friend (who's dating a chef), confessed her love of the feisty/loveable Bourdain and told me she (and her boyfriend) loved Kitchen Confidential (Bloomsbury, 2000). I actually only knew "Tony" from his Travel Channel series, No Reservations, and didn't even realize his writing kicks so much more ass than his show. He's a spectacular writer: the type that writes the way he speaks, but does it like a pro. I squealed when I saw that it was available at our library, picked it up yesterday and haven't put it down. It's a speedy yet savory read that's part autobiography and part how-to guide to cooking, eating, and enjoying a meal at a restaurant, particularly in Manhattan. He touches on all the essentials: why risk is important in eating, why food should be about pleasure, and why we should never abuse garlic with a terrifying contraption known as a garlic press. I'm about 100 pages through and loving it. I can't wait to read his other books, like The Nasty Bits (Bloomsbury, 2007).

I had been meaning to get my hands on Flannery: A Life of Flannery O'Connor (Little, Brown & Co.) since it came out last February. The author, Brad Gooch, is an English professor at my father's alma mater, William Patterson University in nearby Wayne, NJ. I'm about 40 pages into it, and it looks very serious and involved, and I will love finishing it in several months from now. It's a thick book (at 464 pp), and a slow read (for me), but I want to do it, and I already love the history of Irish-Catholic Georgia and the evidence of its influence on her stories. I've also skipped right to the glossy black and white inserts that reveal photos of dear Flannery, from her school portrait to her posing with crutches on each arm. WILL READ! Promise.

A literary buddy of mine at work suggested Delillo's White Noise (Penguin Classics, 2009), after I told him about my attempt at Mao II (a different recommendation from another literary buddy) that featured amazing prose, but the subject matter was a little too sci-fi for me. I haven't cracked it open yet, but I will. My friend told me it was the best start to reading Delillo. Will do!

A short story of Jennifer Egan's was published in last week's New Yorker, which got me nostalgic about a paperback I happened to pick up at The Strand once when I was 15 or 16: Look At Me (Anchor, 2002). Especially for a teenage girl (surveying different sorts of femininity), it was a provocative, epic read about a supermodel who messes up her face. Kind of desperately, I looked up what other books she'd done, and found that our library had a copy of The Keep, which Anchor released back in 2007. I did spend a few days with it (while waiting for other library orders to arrive), and I almost decided to finish based on one element: her style. The plot, however, was stupid: a guy from New York goes to a castle in Germany to spend time with his long-lost cousin who used to be a loser but is now a millionaire who's fixing up the castle, and there's a magic lady at the castle who has sex with the guy, and that's as far as I got. The thing that got me was the second story that seems to be simultaneous with the front-story: a man, a relative of the main character and his cousin, is in prisoner, taking a creative writing class. Egan jumps from front to back story in a particular way that leads you to believe the prisoner is actually creating this story about his cousins. The prison chapters were most authentic. And I LOVE Egan's dialogue - she's one of the better contemporary dialogue-ers. Unfortunately, this was a case where I was questioning why I care. There wasn't much reason, so I gave it a go, and decided against it halfway through.

Mussolini obsessed

Vincere (2009), an Italian film about the young Mussolini-in-progress and his first wife, Ida Dalser, just released yesterday in Manhattan. It looks stunning - can't wait to see it. Read the NY Times review here.

I guess we'll take the leftovers...

There's nothing like a good dose of grandma's guilting. So when Dan's grandmother looked me in the eye yesterday and said, "Will you take all the potatoes? How about the carrots?" and the ultimate temptation: "I'll give you my tupperware", there's no way to turn her down.

The reason why St. Patty's side dishes amount to such abundant leftovers is because, well, the corned beef kicks the crap out of the boiled potatoes and carrots. (We shiver at the prospect of leftover cabbage. No one even wants to look at it.)

So now I'm left with two pounds of cold, wet, starchy "Irish" fare. Spice is a must here, and heat, and a little hope.

Spicy St. Patrick's leftovers:

Things you need:
Olive Oil
1 garlic clove, minced
Chicken broth
Leftover boiled red potatoes, quartered
Leftover boiled carrots, diced
1 can of red kidney beans, rinsed
1/2 bag baby spinach
Chili powder
Salt
Pepper
Tabasco sauce (I like habañero flavor)

To do:
Heat up oil and garlic in a shallow saucepan (or wok!)
Add the quartered potatoes (any amount you want - it will be the base of the dish so add a lot)
Add about 1/2 cup chicken broth
Heat the potatoes up for about 5-10 mins, then add the kidney beans and mix it up.
Cover for about 5-10 mins, then mix up some more and add carrots. Keep mixing, so it get a bit mushy, like a stew.
Add the spices to taste. If you have it, add a cajun seasoning like Slap ya Mama - I put this on EVERYTHING: http://www.slapyamama.com/
Gradually mix in the baby spinach and let it cook down.

You'll like it - I promise! And will make you feel guilty if you don't try a taste.

Éire go Brách

Taking the day off for St. Patty's to celebrate with my resident Irishman/small-time Leprechaun. (I'm also avoiding the loud a-holes in green on the commuter trains). Enjoy the beautiful day drinking beer, eating blandish meat and potatoes, and kissing good-looking friends of Irish descent. Maybe read a little Joyce, too?

God, I miss real Ireland...

Not sure what to think: Gaga's new video

Is it weird that when she entered first scene of the video, I thought: Hamburglar?

How I learned Philosophy

Don't tell my boss: until last month, I didn't know a thing about Philosophy.

Well, that's not entirely true. I know how many university students enroll in Introduction to Philosophy courses annually. I'm fluent in the pricing of Introduction to Ethics readers (anthology textbooks). I'm familiar with Philosophers, classic to contemporary, and how to spell their names correctly in a Table of Contents.

That counts, right? Not when I'm on the phone with an author, who eagerly pursues a conversation about Epistemology or Metaphysics with an Editorial Assistant who just wants to get back to her Google Reader. (Dude, not at work...)

Anyway, while I was at the American Philosophical Association conference in Chicago last month, this was the same conversation I had with another Editorial Assistant who was manning the Wiley/Blackwell booth. "Yeah, I didn't study Philosophy in college or anything," was the mutual confession. Though not very guilt-inducing, we still felt that it made our job hard sometimes, especially if we were expected to talk (eek!) about Philosophy: its topics, its significance, what the philosophers are actually saying.

As we chatted, I surveyed the various books she had displayed, and (miraculously) came upon something I would read: The Office and Philosophy (Blackwell, 2008). I know, I'm a little late with the whole The Office fad. You can really tell, since the book pubbed back in 2007. This means the authors wrote it one or two year prior. (Like I said, I'm slow to fads.) Dan and I have been bona fide Office addicts for a few months now - recording it on DVR whenever it's on, and then devoting a good portion of the week to sporadic marathons. Dan's even downloaded the whole series illegally on the internets (don't tell NBC!).

I bought the book without a whim - I had to have it. Not just because it's about The Office, but because I would finally, FINALLY, learn something about my profession (besides page counts and sales forecasts).

Edited by J. Jeremy Wisnewski, this funny and accessible book features a compilation of essays by (real) contemporary philosophers on the various philosophical subtopics that relate to characters, themes, and events in The Office (both the UK and US series. I, um, skipped the essays about the UK Office. I've heard it's good, so I'll probably Netflix it).

The Office and Philosophy was truly an entertaining and educational read. The book discusses morality, by examining Michael Scott's complete moral blindness. It touches on self and self-deception by examining Dwight's power struggle in the hierarchy of the office, and his life as a Schrute (some kind of superpowerful, pseudo-Amish family) which he takes very, very seriously. It examines Affirmative Action in the context of Michael's "special" (racist) treatment of Stanley. Sexual Harassment is discussed in relation to Jim and Pam, Kelly and Ryan, Michael and Ryan. Not to mention, a lot of discussion on business ethics (remember the XXX-rated Mickey Mouse/Donald Duck watermark?).

One of the more interesting essays (Chapter 3), covered the idea of "feeling by proxy", which is the term that defines how we, the audience, are sometimes unable to physically keep watching as Michael Scott endures (more like provokes) a humiliating scenario.

For example, how can we ever forget Michael's noble kiss he lands on poor Oscar in "Gay Witch Hunt"? The scene was hard for me to watch; I wanted to turn away, because I really couldn't endure Michael's eager self-humiliation. He was completely blind to the embarrassment the kiss (in front of the rest of the staff in the conference room) would bring upon Oscar AND himself. He's going past the limits to prove to his staff that he's not a homosexual, when simultaneously he looks more like a fool than before. The reason it's hard for people to watch the scene is because they're feeling Michael's humiliation for him. Since Michael has absolutely no qualms about kissing Oscar, despite any repercussions (Toby knows) or awkwardness, the audience feels everything for him and can't actually go through with what he's about to do. We take on his position and try to change his behavior, but, we're just the audience...

For an Office fan and an EA in the Philosophy discipline, I found it completely satisfactory.

Everyone loves Mexican night!

Last week I was inspired to do Chicken Enchilladas. I'd never had them before, ever, not even at Blue Moon, our fave Mexican place in Woodcliff Lake, NJ (http://www.bluemoonmexicancafe.com/). Turns out they're my new healthy alternative to Chicken Parm (ah, the mighty Parmesan). Healthy meaning not fried, but... still a lot of cheese.

Stuff you need (for a meal for two):
Two soft tortillas
1 small package chicken breasts, cleaned and cut into strips
Chicken broth
1/2 onion, chopped
1 bay leaf
2 teaspoons chili powder
1 teaspoon ground cumin
Salt & pepper
Pepperjack & Mozz

For the sauce (THIS IS AWESOME):
2 cups tomato puree
2 teaspoons cayenne pepper powder
2 pinches ground cinnamon
1 teaspoon chili powder
2 cloves of garlic, minced
Directions: Heat up some oil in a small saucepan, add the minced garlic and brown it. Add all the other ingredients together in a saucepan and cook it up!

What to do:
Preheat the oven to 400 degs
Pour 2 cups of the broth into a saute pan, and bring to a boil
Add chopped onion, chicken slices, and bay leaf
Lower the heat, and poach the chicken for about 10 minutes
Remove cooked chicken pieces from pan and put in a mixing bowl with some of the broth mixture



Shred the chicken with a couple of forks
Add the spices and keep on shreddin'
Add the rest of the broth from the saucepan
Nuke the tortillas in the microwave, to make them soft






Add the chicken/spice mixture to the tortillas
Wrap up the tortillas, and stick them in a casserole or Pyrex, seam side down





Pour the sauce on top, add the cheese (LOTS)
Put the chicken loveliness into the oven for about 10 mins, just so the cheese melts, and it looks pretty.

Take out of the oven and let sit for about, you know, as long as you can stand it. Serving it is a bit tricky, and requires a long knife, spatula, and a little TLC.

Enjoy!!

Lazy Sunday Review: Jennifer's Body (2009)

This movie was adorable. Hillarious. High-school sexy. I loved it.

Megan Fox stars as flesh-eating demon/gorgeous teenage cheerleader Jennifer Check. Sweet and spunky (and also gorgeous, in my opinion) Amanda Seyfried plays Needy Lesnicki, Jennifer's nerdy lady-in-waiting.

Spoiler alert! (Dan insists I give this warning for now on). So here's the jist: An indie band plays at a bar in the middle of nowhere (I think Wisconsin?), hoping to find a virgin to sacrifice according to a satanic ritual that will grant them fame, popularity, Maroon 5 status, etc. They find Jennifer, assume she's a virgin (though that couldn't be farther from the truth), and keep tabs on her during their performance. Needy, who reluctantly accompanies Jennifer to the bar, watches the situation unfold and is really not into it. Suddenly (seriously), a fire starts in the bar, and everyone dies except for the band, Needy and Jennifer. The band picks up their alleged virgin, and takes her into the forest to sacrifice her. Anyway, since Jennifer's no damn virgin, the ritual corrupts her and ultimately demonizes her dead body. So now, she's undead, and survives on eating people. Boys, which, I suppose, are her easiest prey. Needy devotes herself to discovering what's become of her (suddenly very hungry) best-friend. After Jennifer eats Needy's boyfriend, Chip (seriously), that's more or less the last straw, and... well, I won't reveal the predictable ending.

This movie is great. The themes of high school society, friendship and sex mingled with the murderous supernatural are fun, kind of sexy and scary, but also slightly epic. Both actresses are loveable and fucking cute. You'll see that Needy becomes stronger, more whole, and more beautiful at the end of the film. There are real tranformations - Jennifer's fake and silly, but Needy's completely realistic, and therefore striking.

There are moments of hillarity amidst the gore: the scene of Jennifer's "virgin sacrifice", though terrifying (especially for a girl), becomes darkly comical as the knife-wielding frontman of the band starts singing "8675309", you know, "Jenny, I got your number!" Then he proceeds to stab her to death.

One of the most endearing elements of the movie is the high school tongue: dialogue is peppered with offensive unforgettables like "freaktarded" and "lesbigay". When Needy rehashes the distaster at the bar, Jennifer tells her to "getoverit.org." They've lovingly nicknamed each other "Vagasil" and "Monistat." So telling of the early perversity of our youth, but sweet because they're such little girls (giggle)!

This was also one of those films that I consider one, long music video. Featuring poppish power-rock by Panic at the Disco and, one of my favorites at the moment, The Silversun Pickups, the musical interludes help maintain that sex and death ambiance throughout the movie. Well done.

"I have a crush on..." series: Anthony Bourdain

Host of the Travel Channel's edgy/elitist culinary TV series, No Reservations, Anthony Bourdain is bringing sexy back to the already spectacular combination of food & travel.

I have to admit, I always thought Adam Richman girl, and a loyal fan of Man vs. Food (also on the Travel Channel). Turns out the fat and funny just isn't my style, and I'd rather sample decadent pastries in Spain rather than a greasy burger in Atlanta.

I know, Anthony's an old guy, but he cusses like a 25-year old, dresses like a rock star, and eats the best food in (literally) the world. Food that he's way too articulate about. HOT.

Sniff my head!

I let loose in a CVS last week. It wasn't pretty.

Ever since I recieved a rather handsome tax return, I've been sneaking a few extra goodies here and there, including my hefty $42 purchase of girly crap last week. But I do not regret a cent (hey, that's a lot of money... to me)!

My most awesome purchase was the Organix conditioner in Coconut Milk flavor. At first, I was seduced by the boasting of natural ingredients like egg-whites and coconut oil. Then I put it on my scalp (in the shower, not the store), and I was sold. The smell isn't overpowering (like Bath and Body Work's death-by-coconut products), and it's comforting. You feel spoiled afterwards, like you just took a bubble bath on vacation (then you remember it's a Tuesday, but c'mon it's... not that bad).

Anyone who's met me (and my hair) knows that I'm borderline obsessed with my temperamental locks. If they're not treated in a particular way, they punish me with merciless frizz (it hurts). So I've always been weary of straying from my (heavily practiced) daily hair routine, which includes a secret combination of ingredients, which I'll save for another post. But Organix treats me just right: my hair is soft and weighty, and it stays in one place!

So if you come upon this yummy elixir in your drugstore, snatch it up! It's my new favorite headaromatherapy.