October 2008

I was just at my super old blog to make a link here, and while I was there I looked at some of my old posts. Wow, it is so so so embarrassing. The pictures on the blog are so awful, as is my writing (lots of tee hees, LOLS, and spelling and grammatical errors). It’s so weird to look back on all of it, because at the time I was so proud of it. Not that I’m not still proud of it, it’s really awesome to be able to see how much I’ve grown in the 2 1/2 + years since I started blogging. I wonder if in 2 years I’ll look back at this blog and think of how ridiculous it is? My old blog is the kind of thing where it’s nice to revisit once every couple of months as a refresher of things and food past, but any more than that is a big no. I just have to move past it.

Another thing I’ve been thinking about moving past lately is Earth Balance.
Collectively as vegans I think we really need to stop being obsessed with EB (as it’s familiarly called) and move on to better, more sustainable methods of whipping up frostings and general fluffiness. I’m not quite sure what this entails yet, but I’m going to be experimenting with coconut oil, and I’ll report back with my findings (expect either a major breakthrough or a major failure) on it.Isn't EB really creepy and gross when you think about it?
Putting the art deco back into penuche icing since 1990.

Just to show you that the once in a while, crocodile, mantra is okay, here is a gloriously Earth Balance-y photo from my archives, made for a friend’s potluck:

Cookies and Cream, and the Newman O’s were free, isn’t that smashing?

And now here is a gloriously EB free cake I made last week for my housemate:
Chocolate and Hazelnut deliciousness.

Happy Baking!


I’m totally fine, sometimes grated skin just happens, ya know?

Once I was making my grandmother a birthday dinner (in my pregan days) of sauerbraten, latkes, braised red cabbage + apples, and even sachertorte (which she absolutely used to love!), and whilst grating the cabbage (this was back in the pre-food processor thus pre-grating blade days) I hand shredded the cabbage (why didn’t I just shred it with a knife?) on a three sided box grater, and during that time managed to shred some of my hand. I distinctly remember calling to my sister Rachel for help, but no, she was too busy playing her piano. Thankfully my father came to the rescue. But just remember Rachel, I could have bled out and died if he hadn’t helped me….

Hmm, I don’t know, the swinging eighties just doesn’t have the same ring to it as the swinging sixties, does it?

According to my sister Susan, who knows these things because she works at Express on Sundays (on top of working at a bank full time, working at a college library one night a week, and getting her second masters degree online -holy crap how does she do it???) brace yourself: The sixties are mingling with the eighties for the fall fashion season. Call me a purist*, but I find this appalling. I want my vintage with my vintage. I absolutely do not consider the 80’s vintage. And that’s that.


*Actually, now that I think about it, I was wearing a vintage house dress with spandex pants the other week, and I sometimes mix and match old and new, but that doesn’t change my hatred of all things 80’s.

Excluding my two sisters, I can’t really think of anything good that came out of the era. I can think of horrifying spandex leotards over spandex pants a la any aerobic workout video of the time and awesomely bad hair bands, but that’s about it. Can you prove me wrong?

Speaking of swinging, if you haven’t tried it, might I suggest to you all swing dancing? It’s extremely fun, unless you go to swing dances and perverted old men (and sometimes young men) try to hit on you. As an example, here’s a brief interaction I had with a weirdo at a swing dance when I was thirteen. Thirteen!

This conversation took place after we finished dancing. And might I add this dude came to the dance with a woman?

Creepy Man: I know this is a horrible question to ask a lady, but how old are you? My friend (motioning to the lady) can’t tell, but I think you’re 25.

Me: Actually, I’m thirteen. Peace out.

Q: What does Sarah Palin have in common with Sweet and Sara Marshmallows?

A: They both are filled with fluff.

The marshmallows are really good, by the way.

I’m currently reading Savage Beauty, a biography of Edna St. Vincent Millay. It’s quite fascinating (for instance, did you know she went to Vassar College? I didn’t!).

In the book are some letters of correspondence she had with her mother and two sisters, along with various lovers and friends.

Letter writing! Whodathunkit?

Are you wondering how this relates to myspace, as implied in the title?

Okay, first read this article.

Second, celebrate with me, for I have quit the Myspace.

I had thought about deleting my page eons ago, but somehow I talked myself out of it. Only now, after reading the aforementioned article, feeling almost exactly like the author, I knew it was time.

I feel so free!

And I have an idea! A Good Idea, inspired by Edna St. Vincent Millay and her company. I’m going to find beautiful stationery and a flowing pen, and I’m going to sit down every so often to write hand-written letters to my peeps, instead of logging on to some random networking site! I’m a bad networker anyway. I am going to be old-fashioned, and I’m going to love every minute of it. I’m going to slow everything down, and I’m going to enjoy it, because sometimes technology scares me. I’m going to have a tea party one of these days!

By the by, I have nothing against Email. In fact, I think it’s great, but wouldn’t you like to get letters via the mailbox? (If so, send me your address and I will write, pinky swear.)


It’s a good idea to put your money where your mouth is.

P.S. You might have already known this (as did I, my mini-photo shoot just reinforced it), but money smells really weird, y’all.

A good (splendid, even) idea: Macro mode on your camera. My life hasn’t been the same since I learned about macro mode. And by life I mean photos.

The other day I was making fun of food bloggers who fixate on taking zillions of photos of the same dish, but I’m sort of a hypocrite because I took a ton of photos of the half-eaten pistachio truffle shown above. And by tons I mean 12. But I guess I do understand the photo obsession now, even though I couldn’t imagine snapping more than 20 shots of the same thing. And that’s not to say I’m still not alarmed by how some amateur blogs are way too polished and perfect. Alarming in a what-the-hell-else-do-you-do-with-your-day? kind of way.

But I digress. You know what else is a good idea? Ordering truffles from Lagusta’s Luscious. Delicious!

Oh yeah, I took the picture of the truffle on my bed. I used to abhore the color pink, but now I adore it. And pink and orange? Totally. Check it out:

You know what’s all sorts of awesome? Moving into a house and being given a Fender acoustic guitar (a remnant of a previous tenant) by your current housemates. Yeah!

Both the comforter and the snugly blanket are from The Second Show in Hudson. Carol, the manager lady, is the sweetest person in the world. When they came in, she put them both aside for me because she knew I would love them.  She also used to save me all the Betsey Johnson clothing that would come in, because she knew how obsessed I was with all things Betsey Johnson.

Awwww, I just went and searched for Betsey Johnson on Youtube, check out this clip. She is so crazy! Gotta love her!

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