dream a little dream

There are so many steps. They begin at a normal height and width but continuously grow taller and wider so that I have to sit down and skooch to the edge on my butt to get to the next. I'm trying to get to the bottom because I am late. Full of anxiety and a rush of adrenaline because I know I'm going to take a bad step and fall. Smooth, cool metal. Blue hue with a perfect brushed metal texture. The steps, they slant at the most absurd angle. Look up to take a breath to see the most modern looking chandelier full of small metal loops. They hang down and look like rain falling from the sky. I continue going down.

Sometimes when I wake up I have a lingering dream that is just out of reach to recall. Sometimes though the details are so vivid that I swear it wasn't a dream at all. All those fucking steps. Even my hands were cool enough to have made me think I really was using them to guide me down as they grew more steep. So I got up and went to the bathroom. I keep a small guide to dream book on the back of the toilet. I mostly love the illustrations but time to time when I have an alarming dream, something so vivid, I'll take a peek. Brushing my teeth I found "steps."

Ascended + Descending
280 Steps and Stairs
With its rhythmic motion, going up and down steps or stairs presents a Freudian symbol of intercourse. A long, straight staircase is something a phallic symbol, just a the stairwell may symbolize the female genitalia. More modern interpretations may view climbing stairs as an expression of personal growth and developing emotional maturity. Descending or falling down stairs may express anxiety about "climbing too high" in some aspect of your life - that is, overestimating your abilities.

Well I'll be damned. Spot on. Recovering from surgery which links me to the Freudian symbol of female genitalia (Sorry to be so… honest here). And for the modern interpretation, I have a terrible habit of promising more to people in life and at work that sometimes I'm able to handle. I've been spread a bit thin lately but working on being more conscious of what I can achieve and within what time limit. I'm trying to climb high, as high as humanly possible. But climbing up requires a good foundation and confidence for each step. I never did fall in my dream. I reached the bottom and literally smashed through the last step. Yeah, take that weird dream.

putting on the spritz

Recently my days have been… stressful to say the least. Times where I feel stretched to my limit always remind me of endless hours spent in the design studio. Another student who was a year ahead of me always seemed to be on top of her game, even in times of complete chaos. You would never know that she had been in the studio all night because she presented herself calm, cool and collected. Lipstick on, hair clean and neat. She gave me a bit of advice that has stuck with me since that day. "I always try to look nice because getting dressed and putting on my makeup is sometimes the only good part of my day."

When I feel beat up because of the daily grind sometimes I wear my favorite dress or lipstick to pick me up. I may feel like I'm falling apart but that doesn't mean I need to look it. More than anything my fragrance picks me up the most. Above is what currently is on display on my bureau.

Top row, left to right: Coco Mademoiselle, Chanel Chance, Balenciaga Paris, Balenciaga L'Essence and Bottega Veneta. Bottom row, left to right: LAVANILLA Laboratoreis Vanilla Grapefruit, Vera Wang Lovestruck, Clinique Happy, Prada Infustion d'Iris and Marc Jacobs Splash in Fig (no longer available).

Glamorama

For one week every fall, girls all around the metro area get up extra early. They carefully put on their makeup, style their hair, match their bags to their shoes and go on a Starbucks binge. They critique every seam, stitch and zipper and upon discovery of any new name and a Starbucks fueled fury, blast their twitter, instagram and facebook with their knowledge of fashion. These girls breathe fashion. They stuff their toes into heels in hope to get photographed standing around looking chic at Lincoln Center. Suddenly what's not in, is in and the whole city feels like I'm living in some Glamorama spin off. (Less fucked up but just as bewildering.)

Everyone is asking me or telling me rather what show they saw, which model or celebrity they stumbled upon at the Le Bain fashion night out party. By telling me I mean scream/speaking on their iphones walking down the street or to their other fashion friend on the subway. PR girls everywhere are skipping lunch to go see Opening Ceremony but of course it was so worth it and what is lunch when fashion can fill you up anyway. Skipping lunch is the fashion equivalent to dying a thousand deaths in the name of a designer.

In the name of fashion, all PR, magazine and self-proclaimed style authorities should keep their voices down and conversations to themselves. And please stand somewhere else looking awkwardly chic but without-caring-I-look-this-odd-everyday-because-I'm-an-individual-with-a-creative-flair. I would like to get to yoga on time.

P.S. There is lipstick on your teeth.

quiche me

I have a confession. While I've been fully moved out of my parents house for 7 years, it wasn't until roughly the last summer that I've taking an interest in actually cooking for myself. I am a living example that one can live on eggs, toast, waffles and soup. It wasn't that I couldn't cook but cooking for one always seemed a bit dramatic. City living doesn't make it any easier either. I walk past 10+ delicious restaurants on my way to the market, then have to lug everything I bought back home and then use my barbie-sized kitchen to prepare a meal that may or may not turn out the way the picture looked online. My daily routine consisted of working late, running a few miles and then satisfying my hunger with whatever took the least amount of time. I always felt cranky, tired and suffered from sweeps of anxiety. Something had to change.

Change one, new apartment and neighborhood. Suddenly there were markets all around me that didn't charge $10.00 for mustard. Change two, a new job. 40 hour weeks rather than 50-60 hours. Change three, I got really sick of eggs, toast, waffles and soup. I also watched a lot of Top Chef at my first apartment in Hoboken. I'm not sure why exactly but eventually all those episodes sparked something in me. A commitment to a healthy mind and body, I began to cook. 

I started small. Basic chicken, seafood and dips. Guacamole became a staple in my world last summer. I didn't cook for anyone but myself. I would think back to Top Chef were the challenge was to whip up a 5 star meal in 15 minutes. Well I had 2 hours and aimed at about 3 stars, how hard could it be? I learned to cut recipes down to simple fresh ingredients. What the staples were in whatever I was preparing and what might improve the meal depending on fresh produce or what I was craving. I often pretended that I was hosting my own cooking show to an invisible 20 something crowd. A very casual, "I was just like you once, didn't know a mince from a chop but look at me now," cue severely professional knife skills.  

You've (whoever you are that reads my random internet thoughts) probably caught on to the more food related posts within the last year. More recently I've started cooking not just for myself but for my boyfriend. Prep work is my favorite. Happily dicing up onions while mascara tears stream down my face or pulling basil leaves apart and measuring flour, sugar, etc. Thinking about the day, putting worries to rest, focusing on the equation of ingredients rather than what needs to be completed at the office. More than anything an importance on slowing down. Why rush the process? There is no race against the clock. Sip water, breathe in, smell lemon and garlic, warm up the oil, warm up the oven. My most recent work is quiche. Inspired by a quiche my good friend Erin used to make at my first job and by a more recent bite at The Blue Stove in Williamsburg. The recipe below and for anyone who has never made crust, this crust is very simple and easy. I was sure that this would be the crust that ruined my cooking run but alas, perfectly golden. Enjoy.

crust

1 1/4 cups of flour

1/2 cup butter, chilled and diced

 1/4 teaspoon salt

1/4 cup ice water

Combine flour and salt in a bowl. Cut in butter until mixture resembles crumbs. Stir in water, a tablespoon at a time, until mixture forms a ball. Refrigerate while you prep the filling. Roll dough out to fit a 9 inch pie plate. Place crust in pie plate. Press the dough evenly into the bottom and sides of the pie plate.

filling

6 large eggs, beaten

1 1/2 cups heavy cream

salt and pepper

2 cups chopped fresh baby spinach, packed

1 pound bacon, cooked and crumbled

1 1/2 cups shredded Swiss cheese

Preheat the oven to 375 degrees. Combine the eggs, cream, salt, and pepper in a bowl and whisk together. Layer the spinach and cheese in the bottom of the pie crust. Add bacon to the the egg mixture then pour on top of cheese and spinach. Bake for 35 to 45 minutes until the egg mixture is set.

original recipes for quiche and crust

busy bee

The New York Times recently wrote an article about all of us being oh-so-busy. The most alarming thing about this article was that I felt like I was reading an excerpt from my daily dialogue. I've found since moving to New York City that I've often been too busy to go to the gym, eat healthy, dress well, see friends, see family, take a vacation, take a lunch, take a coffee break and/or date. After reading I made a pact with myself that whenever anyone asks me how I've been or how my day was, I cannot respond with "busy." Even if it was the most busy day of my entire life, I have to find another word to describe my day or current state. Being busy has become my default state and an excuse for anything I don't want to do. There are 24 hours in the day, for heaven's sake no one is that busy.

There are times to buckle down but there are also times where stepping outside for lunch or leaving on time so that you can take a run around the neighborhood can be the most important and inspirational. I owe some of this to the culture around my job. I'm told often to take a break or leave so that I am well rested or can enjoy the beautiful day. Would you ever hear a heart surgeon complain about how busy they are? I'm not saving lives designing perfume and cosmetic packaging so why am I complaining and using "busy" as an excuse to avoid having to put in extra work or time with friends and family?

Yesterday was educational. I collaborated with a sister company on a project, spoke to a vendor about the best way to achieve a design, searched for images for an upcoming campaign, organized glass inspiration and stepped out for a 45 minute lunch where I sat in Herald Square and wrote a postcard out to my family. If I would have said my day was busy then no one would have wanted to hear me complain about having to do all the things above. Busy seems to have a negative outlook. I don't want to be busy anymore, I want to be involved.

on trial

There comes a moment where two people decide to share a space. Ive written before about not yet coming into that moment but when my past roommate left to move in with her boyfriend she explained it better than I ever could. She reasoned that "not being together became far more inconvenient than being together in separate spaces." Or something like that. Traveling back and forth was tiring, lugging your things, forgetting certain things, mistakenly trying to pay for coffee by flipping extra underwear on the counter (true story) got old. While I completely believed her, I still didn't think that moment would happen to me. Especially because of the two week trial.

Between leases my then boyfriend moved in for two weeks. At the end of the two weeks I remember being alarmingly relieved. It was shitty of me but I realized that while I really liked him, I didn't really like him there all the time. We would knock into each other, step on each other, glance over like "oh you again." I had no idea that I felt this way until those two weeks were over. I kept thinking, what if we had moved into together. Signed over in blood for a 12 month lease in which, we may have ended up killing each other or worse, broke up and still had to share a space. He was clean, nice, respectful, etc. etc. but something didn't fit. It was those two puzzle pieces that totally look like they fit together but when placed together you realize the cardboard is cut a little to the right or left and then back into the pile they go. You have to keep searching.

On July 2nd while doing a weekly strip down of my apartment I smoothed out my bedding when something caught my eye. A bug. A small bug on my bed. Since then while the apartment is in my mind completely and totally unlivable I have been staying in a far, far away place known as Williamsburg, Brooklyn. A far cry from the Upper West Side and quite literally on the other side of the rainbow. In the cab ride over that night I remember thinking, this may be the two week trial and the dread that followed. I couldn't go back to my apartment if I wanted to. Everything has been flipped, cleaned, sealed and every inch poisoned. I thought sure, we spend a ton of time together but what if after 5 days straight he starts to hate me or me hate him. What if he's secretly a freak? What if he sees that I'm secretly a freak? (Meanwhile we had already discussed that we like each other because we are both freak-like in our own respectful manner.) The moment that I told him the two week trial story and he looked at me, squeezed my hand twice and said something along the lines of "well, we'll see."

It's been 15 days and I'm still at his place. My makeup is in the cabinet. Some of my dresses hang in the closet. I've purchased extra ice cube trays and set measuring cups in the kitchen. I pretend his snoring doesn't bother me because it actually doesn't. He hands me my mouth guard before I fall asleep so that I don't wake up with headaches from biting down impossibly hard in my sleep. I wake up to my alarm just like I used to, I brush my teeth and blow dry my hair. Sometimes we walk to the subway together and sometimes one of us has to leave before the other. Once he went to the grocery store for me so that I could make us dinner when I got home. He didn't even realize that it made me so happy, that gesture of picking up the ingredients. Mostly because it has been easy, simple and overwhelmingly enjoyable. He reminds me to drink more water and I remind him to brush his teeth before bed. We always say good night and good morning. The oddest things I've learned in 15 days about this person that I'm sharing a space with. The most wonderful times when he asks me to dance while the water boils before dinner. When he brings me two options of lemonade from the store because he wasn't sure which I'd prefer. (The answer is both.)

I still have my place on the Upper West Side and eventually will move on back. While I hate the fact that a bug forced this upon both of us, I am finding it very assuring that we've past the two week mark by two days and we're both still alive. We've learned a lot, like how much I hate blueberry pancakes and how he used to eat way too much pizza. So while I've been away from the blog, I've been here in his apartment in Brooklyn. I can see the city from the deck but am in no rush to escape back. After all, home is where the heart is.

cool off

Maybe I'm a bit behind this trend but I figure if I am, some of you might be too. A recent favorite spot The Smile serves up basil lemonade daily. It's become an obsession of mine recently and since the restaurant is too far from my apartment, I had a moment of genius/realization that I can make my own. While watering the garden at my guy's place yesterday it hit me that all the basil growing, combine with the lemonade in the fridge would be the cherry on top of the beautiful midweek holiday. There isn't much to this drink but for some reason it makes me completely content within a few seconds. Add in sitting in the sun, a bit of music and a book and I was in heaven. Hard to believe it was a Wednesday. I'm starting to think that maybe every Wednesday should just be a holiday. While I'm back at my desk today, I'm looking forward to a full weekend of basil lemonade. 

Side note, just found this list and I'm planning to try some of them out!

blueberry beauties

Seems that lately all I have to blog about is food that I'm cooking up. But for now, that's all I have time for. Somewhere between the garden I started with my guy and fixing up an old bike, I've been hacking away at my pile of recipes. A perfect excuse for a new recipe was the just passed fourth of July. The best part about these cupcakes that they can pass for muffins without the frosting. You can eat them anytime of the day and feel guilt free! Like all my baking/cooking posts, take your time and the cupcakes will make themselves. AND for once, the food looked like the photo from the website which was great since I was bringing them to a party! :) Cheers!

Blueberry Hill Cupcakes

Ingredients

Cupcakes
3 1/4 cups all purpose flour
1 1/4 cups sugar
1 tablespoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon coarse kosher salt
1/4 teaspoon baking soda
6 tablespoons (3/4 stick) unsalted butter, melted
1/4 cup canola oil
2 large eggs
1 cup low-fat yogurt
1 cup whole milk
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 teaspoon grated lemon peel
1 1/4 cups fresh blueberries, frozen for 4 hours

Frosting
2 1/4 cups powdered sugar
10 tablespoons (1 1/4 sticks) unsalted butter, room temperature
1/2 cup plus 2 tablespoons maple sugar
1/2 teaspoon coarse kosher salt
1 1/4 teaspoons vanilla extract
4 teaspoons (or more) whole milk
1 cup chilled fresh blueberries
Fresh mint sprigs (optional)

Preheat oven to 350°F. Line two 12-cup muffin pans with paper liners. Sift flour and next 4 ingredients into large bowl. Whisk melted butter and oil in medium bowl. Add eggs; whisk to blend. Whisk in yogurt, milk, vanilla extract, and peel. Add yogurt mixture to dry ingredients; whisk just to blend. Stir in frozen blueberries. Divide batter among liners. Bake cupcakes until tester inserted into center comes out clean, about 23 minutes. Transfer cupcakes to racks; cool.

For frosting:
Combine first 5 ingredients in medium bowl. Add 4 teaspoons milk. Using electric mixer, beat until well blended and fluffy, adding more milk by teaspoonfuls if dry (small granules of maple sugar will still remain), about 4 minutes. Spread frosting over top of cupcakes. Garnish cupcakes with chilled berries, and mint sprigs, if desired. (Can be made 4 hours ahead. Store in airtight container at room temperature.)

original recipe from bon appetit

say cheese

  I feel that I am not alone when I say some days I miss the comforts of home. One of the ways I bring that comfort to my small upper west side apartment is by cooking. I wasn't always comfortable in the kitchen. My cooking skills didn't go past french toast and grilled cheese. But it's true that practice makes perfect and the latest experiment of mine has been homemade macaroni and cheese. Following one of my favorite blogs, I came across this recipe. I thought it was a perfect way to wrap up a long day and make up some time in the kitchen. While I was making this for a special dinner guest, I wish he had been there to help. There were many things happening at once and it would have been good to have another set of hands to grate cheese and check the boiling pasta and milk. Either way I believe it turned out well. Next time I would like to make more of the béchamel sauce for a cheesier dish. Make sure you are paying attention when constructing this masterpiece because if you over cook your pasta, burn your milk or get too carried away with the béchamel, you'll have to start over. Recipe below and enjoy!

delish mac-n-cheese

Ingredients
1 lb pasta (your noodle of choice)
1 1/2 cups pancetta
2 cups béchamel (see recipe below)
1  1/2 cups cheese (I used a 1/2 cup of each - grated Asiago cheese, smoked gouda and cheddar)
1/2 cup of panko crumbs

Preheat oven to 375F. Grease 2-quart casserole dish. I used a bread pan for a smaller batch. Cook pasta according to directions but al dente (do not overcook!). Drain pasta and set aside. Prepare meat by dicing pancetta into tiny cubes; then sauté in a separate pan until slightly crispy.

Make a medium thick béchamel sauce (see separate recipe below). Gradually add the three cheeses to the béchamel, stirring until melted. Stir in the cooked pancetta. Stir the (cheesy-pancetta-béchamel) mixture into the cooked pasta. Pour the (pasta and cheesy-pancetta-Béchamel) mixture into the casserole dish.

Sprinkle the Panko crumbs on top of the pasta mixture. Cook in the oven, uncovered, for 25 minutes. Let stand for 10 minutes before serving.

Recipe for béchamel:
2 cups milk
4 tablespoons butter
3 tablespoons all-purpose flour
1/4 teaspoon salt

Put the milk in a saucepan,turn on the heat to medium low, and bring the milk just to the verge of boiling.

While heating the milk, put the butter in a heavy-bottomed saucepan and turn the heat to low. When the butter has melted completely, add all the flour, stirring it in with a wooden spoon. Cook, while stirring constantly, for about 2 minutes. Do not allow the flour to become colored. Remove from heat.

Add the hot milk to the flour-and-butter mixture, no more than 2 tablespoons of milk at a time. This seems a bit excessive but makes all the difference. Take your time for a perfect sauce. Stir steadily and thoroughly. As soon as the first 2 tablespoons of milk have been incorporated into the mixture, add 2 more and continue to stir. Repeat this procedure until you have added 1/3 cup milk; you can now put in the rest of the milk 1/2 cup at a time; stirring constantly, until all the milk has been smoothly combined with the flour and butter.

Place the pan over low heat, add the salt, and cook, stirring constantly, until the sauce is as dense as thick cream.

park it

I've been taking full advantage of living just a block and a half away from Central Park this year. I've spent at least one day nearly every weekend on the Great Lawn catching some rays, reading and people watching. Becoming an expert park-ette, I think the three items above would be ideal to have for the rest of the season and well into fall. The blanket is huge (64" x 80") and very light weight. The bag is beautiful but a bit too pricey for my likes. I tend to destroy anything light colored so I try to spend a bit less knowing that it will be gray by the time I'm done with it. Finally 50+ spf lotion. Ever since my sister got horribly burnt last summer I've been wearing extra sunscreen and making sure I reapply as soon as I'm a tad pink. The only thing that's missing is a cool drink.

steven alan beach blanket + flea bag saddle bag + kiehls uv defense

down by the bay

…and by bay I mean the Hudson. The first time I ever biked in the city was in San Francisco this past March. I always see people zipping around in Manhattan, bicyclists yelling at cabs and pedestrians alike for being in their way. It all seemed way too intense for me. However the San Francisco biking adventure made me a bit more brave and this past weekend I rented a bike from a small shop on the Upper West Side and took to the streets.

Eddie's Bicycles is conveniently located 2 blocks from my apartment. Even more convenient, Riverside Park with its vast bike highway (bike lane) is just 2 avenues over. Since I usually am on foot when I take to the park, biking was a really nice change. The breeze from the water and the ease of coasting along was really relaxing and fun. I've been spinning at the gym lately to give my ankles a rest from beating the pavement so I didn't feel completely inapt to the other bicyclists. I was amazed at how nice the bike lanes were and also how rude and mean the pedestrians acted. I get the yelling now and the ringing of the bike bells! Either way I'll be trying out biking a few more times to see if a bike is something I'd like to invest in. It would be a nice change to running or walking. Also the lure of a basket full of groceries for a picnic is a daydream worth living.

summer sangria

I woke up this morning to the sound of cars zooming through the rain. Not the morning I was expecting. Everyday I wake up and hope for sun and blue skies. Spoiled by those few weeks where temperatures rose and I was able to leave the apartment without a jacket and without that sudden chill when you first open the door. During those few weeks where it felt more like summer than spring, I ventured to the local market to stock up on supplies for sangria and guacamole. Tried and true, the guacamole recipe I knew by heart. The sangria however was something I thought of making several times but it always seemed like a ton of work. I was surprised to find out that it's nearly impossible to mess up and was much easier than expected. I made adjustments as I saw fit and without measuring much, I just taste tested until it felt like I was drifting away on a boat on the ocean. Recipe below, cheers!

brooklyn red

1 cup brandy
1 orange
1 red apple
1 green apple
1 lime
1 bottle well-chilled dry red wine (Shiraz or Cabernet)
1 cup ginger ale
1/2 cup sprite

Dice your apples. Mix brandy, wine, ginger ale and sprite together. Add in apples. Halve your orange and lime. Squeeze into mix. Allow to sit in fridge for 15-20 minutes. P.S. Wouldn't it look awesome in this modern carafe?