I Heart Food

Just back from New York where I gave a reading at the International Center of Photography. I spent the weekend in Carroll Gardens where I was borrowing my friend Robin's fabulous apartment.

How I do love that neighborhood.

I walked around, stopping into the yummy boutiques. I tried on a fabulous Corey Lynn Calter dress (--at Dear Fieldbinder. If you love dresses you should go there. Seriously. No one's paying me to write these things.--) and I almost cried when it did not fit me perfectly. Anyway, now I've decided my writing project must include an essay on closets... something that touches on my love for dresses and shoes and being seriously high femme. More work for me.

I also ate my way through the neighborhood.

Loved sitting in the garden at Frankie's eating antipasto and drinking a bellini and reading The Poetics of Space.

Loved sitting in the open windows at Panino'teca scarfing devilled eggs with caviar (so simple; so delicious!)



Loved my breakfast of crepes au sucre at Provence en Boite. That morning the owner's little girl's class was having an end of the school year party. I love the sound of children. (I guess I'll have to write about that, and, specifically, the sound of the kids in the park across the street from my house, later too. More work for me.)


Loved (despite the terrible, weepy, vicious hormonal night I was having) tea and pastries at Sweet Melissa.

But the most spectacular food moment was my lunch at Jill's. On the menu, and the specials board, and on the website, there's this quote from Thich Nhat Hanh: "In this food I clearly see the presence of the entire universe supporting my existence." Are you eye-rolling? Well, guess what? In that food I clearly saw the presence of the entire universe supporting my existence. I sat there, precariously perched on that too hip, wobbly little stool, and thanked Jesus for my life after eating that food. Then I demanded the chef to come out from behind the counter and I kissed him. (On the cheek, honey!) Then I took Robin there for lunch the next day.

How I wish I had a digital camera (gotta do that, H.I.) so I could show you pictures of that food. Besides being delicious, it was aesthetically perfect: beautiful little purple micro greens against the bright backdrop of the green curry sauce for my rice paper spring vegetable ravioli. Steam rising from the white teapot where those gorgeous sprigs of mint steeped. God is good.

Now I'm back. My kitchen (wholly un-renovated, and in need, in my admittedly embarrassingly "bourgie" opinion, of a refurbished 1954 O'Keefe and Merrit Stove and a Summit undercounter refrigerator and freezer) should be put to good use tomorrow. A friend is coming over to make Ethiopian food. God is good.