As much as I love words, I abhor when they’re used in home décor.
Monthly Archives:
January 2019
03
January
2019
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January
2019
03
January
2019
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January
2019
Char-hooter-what?
For far too many years I shunned charcuterie. It makes no sense – so much of it seemed to be about presentation and appearance – one would think it would be my cup of pekoe. Alas, I’m much more practical than most give me credit for being, and when it comes to food I’m not all that fancy. However, a few years ago Andy and I stopped at the Lucas Confectionery in Troy, and I ordered a charcuterie platter as a meal, and since then I’ve been a convert.
Lately, I’ve been working on eating a little healthier, and that means portion control. I found myself actually finishing one of the big dinner plates from Lanie’s (which normally last for two meals) and busting through waist sizes like every day was Thanksgiving. A simple collection of charcuterie, when chosen carefully and feasted upon in good time, is a good way to slow things down and remind oneself of the joys in eating. I’ve also come to embrace the precious nature of its display.
For New Year’s Eve, our extravagant plan was to stay home and do absolutely nothing. To add just the slightest bit of flair to such humble proceedings, I put together this charcuterie plate, which I served with our annual NYE Fondue Savoyarde. Along with the meats and cheese, I added some olives and cornichons. They may seem like frivolous afterthoughts, but I found them integral to the spread, right down to their cute little bowls. (Suzie would be proud of all the mini dishes.)
All in all, it was one of my favorite meals of 2018; here’s to more of that this year.
02
January
2019
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January
2019
Tiny Threads: An Insignificant Series
There is nothing wrong with having chicken parmesan for breakfast.
What is chicken but a wicked old egg?
02
January
2019
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January
2019
A Peaceful Post
The New Year’s bang now a faded memory (and thank goodness), we can return to a hopefully peaceful start to 2019, and a renewed effort to bring some calm into this online world. I’m deeply enjoying ‘Heaven and Earth Are Flowers: Reflections on Ikebana and Buddhism’ by Joan D. Stamm – it’s part of the research for a new project, and is a wonderful rumination on quiet things of beauty and, if all goes well, enlightenment. A calm and bright beginning to a year in which kindness is one of my major goals.
Beneath the slumber of winter, there is work to be done. What we do now will lay the groundwork for what comes up in the spring and summer. Yet it is also a time of reflection and stillness. There is no rush to any of this, and sometimes you have to lose a weekend to sleepy lounging or appreciating the last few days of a beautiful Christmas tree. I came upon Andy sitting on the couch and looking at the tree, and was pleasantly reminded of the moments that matter, the moments that form the quiet in-between time of real life – the simple golden sheen of companionship and love – and I vowed to slow down a bit.
Going back to the simple and true is the best plan of action for the early days of winter.
A cup of green tea warms the hands.
A pot of soup simmers on the stove.
A spray of paperwhites perfumes the air.
There is beauty here, and comfort.
Sit, unwind, breathe and relax.
We will wind our way through the winter…
01
January
2019
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January
2019
The Excellence of the Egg
An apt symbol of a new year, the egg represents many ideas.
Mostly though, I just like to eat them.
The soft-boiled egg is a beautiful thing. I also find them easier to make than poached, fried, or even hard-boiled eggs. That may seem strange, but I’m a strange bird. (Scrambled eggs, whisked or otherwise, remain a specialty, so that’s still the simplest method I use, but these soft-boiled tips may make for an easy alternative.)
Here’s what I do: boil a small pot of water, using just enough water so it will barely cover the eggs. It should rise to a medium boil, bubbling but not too violently. Carefully lower three eggs into the pot, turn down the heat a bit so a low boil remains, and cover loosely. Start a timer for exactly seven minutes. When it’s done, carefully put the eggs into an ice bath to stop the cooking immediately. After the eggs have cooled for a bit, gently tap each with a spoon around the center to break the shell, and peel away. The seven minutes and medium to low boil seem to be the keys here. It took some practice, but now they come out pretty consistently. This is also the most delicious form of cooked eggs – the yolk is wonderfully runny, like some rich buttery sauce, and the white is tender and moist. It’s enough to sprinkle with a bit of salt and pepper for an easy protein-rich snack, or use them as accents on many sorts of dishes. I find them especially good for lifting up a plate of leftovers.
01
January
2019
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January
2019
Another Year, Another Bang!
“I’m an absolute introvert. I do not like parties larger than eight close friends. I’m quite the loner. What I do publicly is a performance. It’s part of my job, and I’m good at it.” ~ Tom Ford
Last year we began with a bang, and though I usually like to change from one extreme to another, I’m going to go against my boomerang nature and aim for a double bang. Boom-Boom in the zoom-zoom room! Nobody booms bigger than Britney:
THERE’S ONLY TWO KINDS OF PEOPLE IN THE WORLD
THE ONES THAT ENTERTAIN AND THE ONES THAT OBSERVE
WELL BABY I’M A PUT-ON-A-SHOW KIND OF GIRL
DON’T LIKE THE BACK SEAT, GOTTA BE FIRST
I’M LIKE THE RING LEADER, I CALL THE SHOTS
I’M LIKE A FIRECRACKER, I’LL MAKE IT HOT
WHEN I PUT ON A SHOW…
The double-sided tension that has run through this blog from its inception almost exactly sixteen years ago has largely been about what to share and what to hide. The public versus the private. How personal does one have to get on a personal blog? How distant and remote can one be before everyone moves on, bored by such practiced removal from anything too real? How much flagrant showing off and stripping down can one perform before the performance becomes the truth? I don’t think we’ve come close to uncovering the answer or reaching a reconciliatory resolution. Questions remain. Mystery begets mystery. The puzzle shifts, changing shape before our very eyes. Time, so celebrated in such a falsely defined structure (how else could humans cope with it?) comes to mind today, when we trick ourselves into thinking things can start all over again, as if the turning of a meaningless calendar page has any real bearing on the dirge of middle age.
I FEEL THE ADRENALINE MOVING THROUGH MY VEINS
SPOTLIGHT ON ME AND I’M READY TO BREAK
I’M LIKE A PERFORMER THE DANCE FLOOR IS MY STAGE
BETTER BE READY, HOPE THAT YOU FEEL THE SAME…
In the face of the clock, as its hands wind around interminably, circling in on a stranglehold that never quite finds release or connection, the numbers advance and retreat, stationary but signifying movement. Time ticks and tocks, marking itself in rudimentary glee, its only purpose to make a map and mockery of itself. A new year begins, born like a baby, and already donning a top hat: the utter insanity of how we have erected the world. Dance, baby, just dance!
ALL EYES ON ME IN THE CENTER OF THE RING JUST LIKE A CIRCUS
WHEN I CRACK THAT WHIP EVERYBODY’S GONNA TRIP JUST LIKE A CIRCUS
DON’T STAND THERE WATCHING ME, FOLLOW ME,
SHOW ME WHAT YOU CAN DO
EVERYBODY LET GO WE CAN MAKE A DANCE FLOOR JUST LIKE A CIRCUS.
A step in time, fox trot or gavotte, Jack will be nimble and quick, and what he can do with a candle stick! Dancing through life, spinning through time, mixing metaphors and musical madness, we begin the year with a whirl and twirl. What will come of us in 2019? Just keep on dancing, baby, just keep on dancing…
THERE’S ONLY TWO TYPES OF GUYS OUT THERE,
ONES THAT CAN HANG WITH ME AND ONES THAT ARE SCARED
SO BABY I HOPE THAT YOU CAME PREPARED
I RUN A TIGHT SHIP, SO BEWARE!
I’M LIKE THE RING LEADER, I CALL THE SHOTS
I’M LIKE A FIRECRACKER, I MAKE IT HOT
WHEN I PUT ON A SHOW…
I FEEL THE ADRENALINE MOVING THROUGH MY VEINS
SPOTLIGHT ON ME AND I’M READY TO BREAK
I’M LIKE A PERFORMER THE DANCE FLOOR IS MY STAGE
BETTER BE READY, HOPE THAT YOU FEEL THE SAME.
And so we begin again – another chance, another start – and maybe this year I’ll open my rebel heart. May this one be the best ever! 2019 marks the 16thyear of ALANILAGAN.com. Ahh yes, my Sweet Sixteen. A lot of crazy shit happens when you’re sixteen years old. A lot of crazy shit happens when you’re 43 too. I might just have a midlife crisis and nervous breakdown RIGHT HERE ON THIS BLOG. I can do it. Just wait and see.
ALL EYES ON ME IN THE CENTER OF THE RING JUST LIKE A CIRCUS
WHEN I CRACK THAT WHIP EVERYBODY GONNA TRIP JUST LIKE A CIRCUS
DON’T STAND THERE WATCHING ME, FOLLOW ME,
SHOW ME WHAT YOU CAN DO
ALL EYES ON ME IN THE CENTER OF THE RING JUST LIKE A CIRCUS…
Happy New Year, kids. Come back for more…
