Friends, for the seven-thousand-millionth time in my life, I am wishing I could be in two places at once. This Saturday (the 22nd) evening, I am going to the second bachelorette party I have ever been to and am psyched! Bachelorette parties, I am coming to understand, involve many of my favorite things: girly-time, drinking, over-the-top entertainment a la drag or burlesque, and penis pops. (Just kidding about that last one. I find the penis-shaped accoutrement to be pretty awful, and I'm not just saying that because my dad reads this blog).
HOWEVER. I then came to find out that a band I would pay ten whole dollars to see is playing this same night - Saturday, the 22nd - for TEN DOLLARS!! At 10pm, at Pianos. I would actually pay more than ten dollars to see this band because this is my friend Dave's band and I have heard rumors about Dave being in a band for quite some time now, and they are finally coming to fruition, just beyond my grasp.
So, dear friends, if you happen to be in NYC, will you go to this show and then tell me all about it? Please?? Dave is very talented and knows much esoteric music, including but not limited to the math rock movement of which Polvo is a part (remember?), so it should be pretty great. Plus Pianos is a good venue, and you can eat somewhere great before/after. Like the Pink Pony.
I mean, that's how I would do it anyway, if I wasn't busy sucking on a penis pop.
Not incidentally, they're called Saturday Astrology. Incidentally, Dave happens to have just married my friend Ixiana, the afore-mentioned pet photographer, AND they just got married. Please tell the happy couple hello for me!
Thursday, August 20, 2009
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
Holy more corn Batman!
Readers! No sooner had I finished my poetical corn waxings of last night than Lance and I went out for some gourmet dinner bites and old-fashioned cocktails at the Clover Club. This is a generally delightful spot in our hood where they take great care with their prohibition-era cocktails (I say generally because of one bad service experience there, which was made up for by the cheerful and competent service of our waitress yesterday eve). We all know how I love a jazz-age cocktail, and the ones at the Clover Club are very good. Their food, I think, is even better. Up until last night, I had tried the crostini, deviled eggs (four ways!), cheese plate, lamb burger, mac&cheese and "Oysters Rock Your Face Off" - their deep-fried (and thus extra decadent) take on Oysters Rockefeller. All of these things have been truly special treats.
Last night I had my heart set on the lamb burger, but just for fun I added something I hadn't seen before: corn fritters. And oh. my. god.
I tried making corn fritters once. They were not very successful. I had done what the recipe said and boiled corn on the cob to subsequently take the corn off the cob by hand, which resulted in too little corn and was a big pain in the ass. I had also fried the fritters in a pan, which made them ooze into pancake-like discs, even though I used a good amount of oil. I don't know what else went wrong (I don't deep-fry my own food often, so that's probably a good part of it) but they were just incredibly disappointing. I remember disgruntledly vowing that if I ever made those fritters again, I would at very least use frozen. Corn freezes exceptionally well.
But at the Clover Club, I could tell they used fresh sweet corn, and the flavor of those tiny pearls of sugary corn popping in your mouth and mixing with the crisp salty fritter batter and the creamy/smoky/salty remoulade - THIS was happiness in a single bite! Plus they clearly have their own deep-fryer, resulting in perfect, evenly-cooked, light little spheres of goodness. I couldn't get over how completely palate-pleasing and mood-enhancing these fritters were, and given that I'd just shared my literal corny-ness with y'all, I felt it essential to follow up with this account.
Now if I could just figure out how to have those fritters and the fried cheese curds from Char no. 4 down the street in one sitting (the only fried cheese curds I have found in the entire eastern seaboard!) I would be in Midwestern heaven.
Last night I had my heart set on the lamb burger, but just for fun I added something I hadn't seen before: corn fritters. And oh. my. god.
I tried making corn fritters once. They were not very successful. I had done what the recipe said and boiled corn on the cob to subsequently take the corn off the cob by hand, which resulted in too little corn and was a big pain in the ass. I had also fried the fritters in a pan, which made them ooze into pancake-like discs, even though I used a good amount of oil. I don't know what else went wrong (I don't deep-fry my own food often, so that's probably a good part of it) but they were just incredibly disappointing. I remember disgruntledly vowing that if I ever made those fritters again, I would at very least use frozen. Corn freezes exceptionally well.
But at the Clover Club, I could tell they used fresh sweet corn, and the flavor of those tiny pearls of sugary corn popping in your mouth and mixing with the crisp salty fritter batter and the creamy/smoky/salty remoulade - THIS was happiness in a single bite! Plus they clearly have their own deep-fryer, resulting in perfect, evenly-cooked, light little spheres of goodness. I couldn't get over how completely palate-pleasing and mood-enhancing these fritters were, and given that I'd just shared my literal corny-ness with y'all, I felt it essential to follow up with this account.
Now if I could just figure out how to have those fritters and the fried cheese curds from Char no. 4 down the street in one sitting (the only fried cheese curds I have found in the entire eastern seaboard!) I would be in Midwestern heaven.
Monday, August 10, 2009
Steamy Corn in the Cup!
I know it is a crazy steamy day here in NYC and probably elsewhere, and you may not be in the mood to read about a tasty hot treat. If so, please to revisit this post when it's raining. I'm sure, given how this summer has been going, that you won't have to wait long.
It was raining to beat the band two Fridays ago when I had plans to meet my buddy and her buddy for the free Polvo concert at South Street Seaport. (Note: I did not know about Polvo prior to these plans being made. You may not have heard of them either. You should find out.) It was pouring with no signs of stopping, and it was a little cool, too, and by the time I got to the seaport my feet were soaked and I was a good half hour early. So there I was feeling a little pathetic when I took shelter under the highway and noticed this:
This is a terrible picture, but do you see what it says? Do you see? STEAMY CORN IN THE CUP! What IS this, I thought to myself, and do I need to investigate? It took me very little time to come up with the answer: why, of course.
You won't hear waxing poetic about savory snacks very often, not because I don't enjoy savory snacks but because sweet ones usually take mental precedence. But as a general rule of savory thumb, I can't get enough corn. I once proudly declared to Jamie Oliver that I was a corn-fed girl, and because this was at a reading when I was getting an autograph and not over an intimate dinner (as I would have preferred), I did not get a chance to properly explain when he looked properly baffled. Had we been at dinner, I would have said, "You see, Jamie, I'm from the great plains of the Midwest, where fields of corn reach as far as the eye can see. I was raised eating the choicest of sweet, seasonal corns, and running through the fields with my friends on warm summer evenings as the sun turned the corn tassels gold." Then he would have kissed me, obvi.
Anyway, when they say steamy corn in the cup, they mean it. This amazing gent, who's name I failed to get because I am a shoddy reporter...
...raises that silver, domed lid you see in front of him, and in a swirl of delicious, corny-smelling steam, dishes piping hot, fat and juicy kernels of corn into a cup in front of you. Then you get to choose your toppings. Yes, toppings!
I got the Firetastic. It was phenomenal. I mean DANG it was some tasty steamy corn in the cup! It was all I could do not to get a second one. I especially can't wait to go back and try the one with honey. Here is a picture of the corn that remained when my friends finally got there and I could borrow one of their cameras:
Believe me, it took everything I had to leave even this much left. All for your viewing pleasure, dear readers!
Incidentally, the Polvo concert got moved to Brooklyn Bowl later that night and we went and it was EFFING GREAT. Not the venue, just the band. Srsly, check them out.
It was raining to beat the band two Fridays ago when I had plans to meet my buddy and her buddy for the free Polvo concert at South Street Seaport. (Note: I did not know about Polvo prior to these plans being made. You may not have heard of them either. You should find out.) It was pouring with no signs of stopping, and it was a little cool, too, and by the time I got to the seaport my feet were soaked and I was a good half hour early. So there I was feeling a little pathetic when I took shelter under the highway and noticed this:
This is a terrible picture, but do you see what it says? Do you see? STEAMY CORN IN THE CUP! What IS this, I thought to myself, and do I need to investigate? It took me very little time to come up with the answer: why, of course.
You won't hear waxing poetic about savory snacks very often, not because I don't enjoy savory snacks but because sweet ones usually take mental precedence. But as a general rule of savory thumb, I can't get enough corn. I once proudly declared to Jamie Oliver that I was a corn-fed girl, and because this was at a reading when I was getting an autograph and not over an intimate dinner (as I would have preferred), I did not get a chance to properly explain when he looked properly baffled. Had we been at dinner, I would have said, "You see, Jamie, I'm from the great plains of the Midwest, where fields of corn reach as far as the eye can see. I was raised eating the choicest of sweet, seasonal corns, and running through the fields with my friends on warm summer evenings as the sun turned the corn tassels gold." Then he would have kissed me, obvi.
Anyway, when they say steamy corn in the cup, they mean it. This amazing gent, who's name I failed to get because I am a shoddy reporter...
...raises that silver, domed lid you see in front of him, and in a swirl of delicious, corny-smelling steam, dishes piping hot, fat and juicy kernels of corn into a cup in front of you. Then you get to choose your toppings. Yes, toppings!
I got the Firetastic. It was phenomenal. I mean DANG it was some tasty steamy corn in the cup! It was all I could do not to get a second one. I especially can't wait to go back and try the one with honey. Here is a picture of the corn that remained when my friends finally got there and I could borrow one of their cameras:
Believe me, it took everything I had to leave even this much left. All for your viewing pleasure, dear readers!Incidentally, the Polvo concert got moved to Brooklyn Bowl later that night and we went and it was EFFING GREAT. Not the venue, just the band. Srsly, check them out.
Sunday, August 2, 2009
Country Donuts
I think I said in an earlier blog that I was off donuts and onto ice cream for the summer - oh how foolish! You would think that on a recent steamy-hot day, as my friends and I made our way to St. George Stadium in Staten Island for some BK Cyclones vs. SI Yankees action, that ice cream would be on the brain, but this was not the case, for as we rounded the corner to reach our designated stadium entrance, I saw something I found very exciting.
"Does that say 'Country Donuts'?" I asked my friends, shielding my eyes and pointing across the street, while trying not to freakishly jump up and down, squealing.
"Looks like it!" They replied. Lance just laughed. Luckily, these friends were on my wavelength, and we headed over to grab some samples to take to the game with us.
"Will they let us into the park with donuts?" I asked.
"Sure, they don't care!" one friend replied.
Wrong. But I think the security guard was amused. So, despite a preference to eat donuts while watching minor-league ball and gazing out over the field to the water and the city in the distance, we gobbled our fried, frosted cakes in the blazing sun outside the stadium. Four donuts, split four ways. All of them DELICIOUS! If you do the math, that adds up to five stars to Country Donuts, with extra props for the chocolate glazed, which won the Best Donut contest of the day, though by, of course, a small margin. The others were plain glazed, vanilla-frosted raised, and chocolate-frosted raised, and they were each fresher and tastier than your average donut.
Seriously, these donuts are worth the trip. I'd put them up there with the Donut Pub, quality-wise, and if you'd heard me extol the virtues of the Donut Pub, you know that's saying a lot. The selection is smaller, but the off-the-beaten-path thrill is pretty good. Here's a map. Let me know what you think.
P.s. I'd never Yelped the Donut Pub before, but anyone who gave it less than five stars is now on my shit list, especially three-star David L., who, if you'll notice, mentions both that he can't remember some of the kinds he tried and that he rarely eats donuts! David L., please spare us all your inexpert opinions.
"Does that say 'Country Donuts'?" I asked my friends, shielding my eyes and pointing across the street, while trying not to freakishly jump up and down, squealing.
"Looks like it!" They replied. Lance just laughed. Luckily, these friends were on my wavelength, and we headed over to grab some samples to take to the game with us.
"Will they let us into the park with donuts?" I asked.
"Sure, they don't care!" one friend replied.
Wrong. But I think the security guard was amused. So, despite a preference to eat donuts while watching minor-league ball and gazing out over the field to the water and the city in the distance, we gobbled our fried, frosted cakes in the blazing sun outside the stadium. Four donuts, split four ways. All of them DELICIOUS! If you do the math, that adds up to five stars to Country Donuts, with extra props for the chocolate glazed, which won the Best Donut contest of the day, though by, of course, a small margin. The others were plain glazed, vanilla-frosted raised, and chocolate-frosted raised, and they were each fresher and tastier than your average donut.
Seriously, these donuts are worth the trip. I'd put them up there with the Donut Pub, quality-wise, and if you'd heard me extol the virtues of the Donut Pub, you know that's saying a lot. The selection is smaller, but the off-the-beaten-path thrill is pretty good. Here's a map. Let me know what you think.
P.s. I'd never Yelped the Donut Pub before, but anyone who gave it less than five stars is now on my shit list, especially three-star David L., who, if you'll notice, mentions both that he can't remember some of the kinds he tried and that he rarely eats donuts! David L., please spare us all your inexpert opinions.
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