Category Archives: General

Another woefully-underused fresh herb is the flat leaf Italian parsley. The curly kind has given it all sorts of bad ubiquitous names, but its unique flavor, especially when used as more than just a garnish, lends a brightness that too often gets ignored because the dried kind, and the restaurant abuse of the curly kind, has made it such a pariah in home cooking. Nobody remembers to use it, but it belongs in so many dishes, chopped fresh and sprinkled on at the last minute. Give it a green whirl again.

It happens the same way every year, and always at about this time.

A yearning, a longing, a memory of something that has yet to happen, but somehow has happened all before.

The dream of summer.

When the snow gets all dirty and grimy, and a few nights tease with the promise of a thaw, I think of summer and make tentative plans in my head. Right now, I’m envisioning a background of terra-cotta, with accents of colorful tiles, and plantings of penstemon to attract the hummingbirds and butterflies that make a backyard so enchanting.

The flower catalogs will begin arriving soon, further whetting the appetite and stoking the stuff of dreams. It’s not too early to indulge in such anticipation. It’s all coming.

A happy scene is achieved with a few floating cyclamen, and this sight never fails to rouse me from the winter doldrums. It is small consolation for the memory of them in their natural habitat, but any consolation, no matter how small, is a welcome one at this time of the year. We are on the right track, however, as only one more month of winter officially remains. The rotten weather may linger, but that too will eventually be wiped away. It always is.

This is my Monday after a long-weekend away, so forgive me if I’m not quit as plucky as usual. Better yet, don’t bother me at all today because I just need to catch up in peace. To that end, I just want to point you to this linky post of previous moments of tranquility that have given me great joy over the years. We need more calm in this tumultuous internet zone.

Those of us wishing for another tale of Harry Potter were somewhat appeased by the release of a play billed as ‘The Eighth Story. Nineteen Years Later’. It picks up with the children of Harry Potter, along with all the main players of the original books, some of whom show up in memory, or in those magical picture frames where the dead still seem to live out some fragmented version of life. J.K. Rowling’s magical world was always one in which loss was inevitable and irreversible. She taught that tough lesson in as kind a way as possible. Harry’s hurt was always palpable and present even as he triumphed and gained the love and loyalty of a group of friends who became his family. The latest play, ‘Harry Potter and The Cursed Child’ is a tribute to all of that, and Rowling, Jack Horne and John Tiffany manage to recapture the enchantment, bringing our favorite characters back to thrilling life.

“Harry, there is never a perfect answer in this messy, emotional world. Perfection is beyond the reach of humankind, beyond the reach of magic. In every shining moment of happiness is that drop of poison: the knowledge that pain will come again. Be honest to those you love, show your pain. To suffer is as human as to breathe.’ ~ Dumbledore

Forget that treasonous clown who used Russia to steal the last election and focus on the recap at work here. We broke the hump of February, and we are on our last full week of the wretched month. Here’s what went down over the week of love.

Andy Cohen’s latest book ‘Superficial’ was a super-fun romp through celebrity glitz.

Keeping things simple on Valentine’s Day.

Blue Valentine.

Andy in his youth. (And younger.)

A simple meal.

Our Mom’s birthday dinner.

Narcissistic memories.

Love is pain and pain is art: Madonna’s ‘Graffiti Heart’.

A tour, back in full bloom.

Another blooming installment here, and here, and here.

Our first official brunch.

A gift from the Amish.

Nick Jonas, as hot as ever.

A super-hot Hunk of the Day run included Josh Moore, Mauricio Plastina, Keegan Whicker & Andy Cohen.

Who knows whether the snow will have stopped falling by the time this post goes up and I have to ride into work. My office doesn’t close for snow. Never has and never will. [Sigh.] On with the recap, because on Monday mornings like this one, all I want to do is rewind. Just to Friday…

It all began with a bang: Zac Efron in a Speedo.

Not quite hiding my family jewels.

A Queen fails to live up to her name.

Sneak Cheesecake peek.

Color me excited!

My ass got the glorious Cheesecake treatment here.

Art for inspiration.

Blank me.

Winter poem.

Hot hunk Saturday.

Cold snow Sunday.

Hunks of the Day included Matt Lister, Dev Patel, Marcus Balliette, James Gao, Paul Richmond, Spencer Rahal & Arad Winwin.

The Suite for Flute & Jazz Piano Trio Jean as performed by Pierre Rampal & Claude Bolling (and written by Bolling himself) plays on the stereo. The living room is flooded with white light – from the snow, not the sun – and through the green branches of a Norfolk Island Pine I watch it fall down, heavier and heavier.

On the stove, a batch of Sausage, Kale and Potato soup is simmering. This one uses the chorizo sausage called for in the original recipe, and already that has made a difference. Not that that first attempt wasn’t good – I just wanted to see how it was meant to be. The chorizo rendered so much more delicious fat too – the lovely paprika-hued kind that soaked so gorgeously into the pale potatoes and translucent onions. Once again I was struck by how a simple tablespoon of Balsamic vinegar can have a profound effect on a pot of soup.

The music plays on, and more snow falls down. I move onto the conversation couch, and open up the Harry Potter play – billed as the 8th story, told nineteen years later. In one sitting, I devoured the first half. (You can too – it’s very much a traditional play, and moves as quickly on the page.) Harry Potter, a snowstorm, and soup simmering in the kitchen. Hello to a perfect Sunday.
And still, the snow falls.

Peering out onto a snowy street, I realize that all memories are ghosts.

It doesn’t even feel like I’m here.

Certain presences linger.

Certain memories remain.

But if you look too closely, you are prone to miss them.

I keep a general gaze instead.

When you let things go hazy, they occasionally come into better focus.

Heavy is the head that wears the crown… jewels.

Sometimes, especially in the middle of winter, you need a bit of sparkle to see you through the darkest days.

I find such joy in a piece of costume jewelry, draped as a headband, almost like a crown.

I wear it like a weapon, channeling its crystalline powers, shooting off shards of reflected light from the almost-diamonds like so many magical bullets.

Not even semi-precious stones, their worth does not translate to money or value, but some things carry greater worth in the way they change one’s perception.

If you believe you’re a queen, no one can take that away.

Royalty is not always God-given.

Grab your own.

Not even Zac Efron in a Speedo will get me to see a ‘Baywatch’ movie, so I’ll just wait for the clips and screen-caps. Besides, everyone likes Zac Efron naked so much better. Or at least, as naked as Zac Efron gets here.

Let’s be honest, I had nothing to do with the Super Bowl, no matter how many jockstrap photos I might take. (Search the Archives if you want to see, I’m too tired to link them up for you. Just search “jockstrap” in the helpful “Search feature at the bottom of this page.) At the time of this writing, I’m actually watching the game, and by that I mean waiting for Lady Gaga to perform. (UPDATE: But wow what a game – after checking out early in the 3rd quarter (inning?) I returned to watch a nail-biter of an ending. Congrats to the Pats – enjoy the featured pic of Julian Edelman.) On with the recap…

The week began with an ending, as January wound to a welcome close.

Before the month ended, however, we celebrated the 14th anniversary of this very website.

It was a rather weak week, because I was dealing with numerous maladies. But we did the best we could do.

As we stumble along…

Ice ice baby…

An annoying arrival.

A soup for a winter day.

Stiff is the new hard.

A winter poem.

The bloody awakening.

A 25th anniversary.

Dreaming of Broadway.

The brilliance of Betty Buckley.

The Super Bowl brought out the jockstrap in certain guys.

Hunks of the Day included Bob Harper, Andy Mientus, Brian Justin Crum, Garrett Swann, Danny Cipriani, Sakis Rouvas and Michael Xavier.

 For some strange reason, Madonna once playfully suggested that as the title for her ‘Hard Candy’ album (another criminally-under-rated gem of hip-pop). It has absolutely nothing to do with this post, other than the stiff reference for my neck. I awoke last week feeling like I had slept the wrong way, and as the day wore on, my neck grew worse. Eventually I gave in to my first session of physical therapy, but the exercises given to me (which I performed religiously every two hours) only ended up making my neck feel awful, to the point where I could barely rise out of my work chair.

By lunch, I was almost in tears, and the tension of that added to the stress that probably started this whole wretched event in the first place. I walked over to my new favorite place, Stacks Espresso Bar, and had a decaf Americano. (Caffeine is the absolute last thing I need.) I sat there and heard one of those voices whispering in my ear:

Relax… relax…

Maybe it was not so much a voice in my head, but a wish and a prayer that I was imploring for myself. I paused, and remembered what it was like to enjoy the moment. An excellent cup of Americano sat before me, exquisitely rendered and better than anything at Starbucks. I sipped at its warmth, while the wind ran down the street outside the window. Puddles and dirty snow lined the sidewalk, as other people on their lunch break hurried past. Winter was passing too.

Not soon enough…