New Year's Eve

I don't like New Year's Eve.

It's weird, because I love holidays, in general. I love colour themes and food themes and dressing up and presents and desserts, and New Year's Eve has all of these, if you apply yourself. I also love unbridled optimism, which is New Year's Eve all the way. Not to mention gratitude. And resolutions! I pride myself on these things!

But New Year's Eve? No thanks.

I admit I'm into the food themes. I can't argue with pork for luck and fatty wallets (not to mention that pork is delicious, in any form) and black-eyed peas, symbolizing coins for wealth. And colours, yes! But gold or silver for New Year's, maybe kind of? And black and white? It does have a certain cache, but it isn't universal like Halloween's black and orange, or Chrismas's red and green, and I just can't fully commit. Optimism is awesome, for real, but can't you make that resolution on November 15 just as well as you can on January 1?

Scrooge much? I know. Maybe it's the expectations; that you're secretly hoping that your party will turn into a Bacardi ad. Also that your arms should look fabulous in that shimmery tank top, even after all that Christmas morning bacon.

I'm way grateful for everything that happened in 2009. I've been unemployed - by choice! - for most of the year. I've made amazing new friends, and, mostly thanks to Facebook, reconnected with people I haven't seen in 10 years or more. I lived in Buenos Aires. I learned to speak Spanish, más o menos. I opened a restaurant. I tasted 40 new fruits! I trekked to Machu Picchu, had my passport stolen - and replaced! - in Bolivia, and spent the Winter Solstice in the southernmost city in the world. Gratitude, anyone? And yes, here I am in Buenos Aires on New Year's Eve, celebrating with a wonderful human being (with whom I plan to spend many a New Year's Eve!) and two sweet sweet kitties (who aren't Memphis, but are still lovely).

OK. Maybe gratitude trumps, because I have a lot for which be thankful, and after writing this post, maybe even a newfound affinity for December 31. Happy New Year, friends, and may your 2010 be that much better than your 2009. xoxo

Adventures in Cooking

For those of you just joining us, this is the "kitchen" in the BP.

OK. It's a bit better now. I painted and fanagled a bigger fridge, and put up shelves. But that sink is useless.

I haven't cooked a lot this summer. See above. This past weekend, already feeling nostalgic about leaving Park Slope, I hit up the Green Market at Grand Army Plaza. Sans plan, I picked up a few delicious items, including heirloom tomatoes, beets, scallops, goat cheese, a French baguette, and New Jersey white peaches. A quick surf of Epicurious and a call to Candace inspired a menu of Spinach and Beet Salad with Walnut-Crusted Goat Cheese (based on this recipe for Hazelnut-Crusted Goat Cheese Salad), Bacon-Wrapped Scallops with Port Reduction served with heirloom tomatoes, and Peaches & Cream (freshly whipped, sweetened with a bit of maple syrup) for dessert. If your mouth isn't watering by now, you should really have that looked at.

The best part about the menu was that I had almost everything in my tiny pantry (I even had bacon in the freezer). My trip to the grocery store was quick and painless, and a bottle of ruby port only costs $10.99 - who knew? Also: I got to light stuff on fire (that's the port reducing over there on the right). Good times.

I'm psyched about cooking this Fall, and to take full advantage of the delightfully large kitchen in BP:LE, I might even trek back to Park Slope for the market. You never know.

Bacon Redux

Turns out Mike's request for an ode to strip bacon was a contest of sorts. Mike has chosen a winner, and it wasn't me. The newly-crowned bacon poet laureate is Mike's friend Jeh, who isn't yet my friend but should be because the man can write, and he truly loves the pig.

Behold this stanza of genius:

O strip of bacon,
you the king of the snacka.
A condiment and a meal,
a sidekick and a hero, like the mighty Chewbacca.

You can read the whole brilliant composition here.

An Ode to Strip Bacon

This morning I received email from my friend Mike, who is currently on a big sailing trip somewhere between here and Tahiti.

Gill -

Quick. "An Ode to Strip Bacon".

Help an addict out during his last week at sea.

Hope you are well,
xo
Mike

I replied:

Streaks of red and white
Salty, crispy, slightly sweet:
Pigs are delicious.