All Women Stalk for 2006 June

Archive for June, 2006

BRUNOMAGLI Women’s Priscilla

BRUNOMAGLI Women's Priscilla

I am in love with these Bruno Magli black high heel boots. They are absolutely gorgeous and sexy as well. They are also half off at amazon right now and I am considering breaking into that savings account for such a deal.

They retail for $694.99, almost $700 and they are not made of gold Mr. Magli, blimey. But they are on sale right now for $346.99.

Great new YA novel

I am thrilled to say I’ve ordered my copy of “Frogs and French Kisses,” the new young adult novel by Sarah Mlynowski.

Sarah is a friend, and a wonderful, prolific author of contemporary women’s fiction and teen fiction. I met her when she invited me to be part of “Girls Night In,” the fabulous short-story collection she edited. Our newest anthology, “Girls Night Out,” is doing VERY well at the moment! Yay! Sarah’s first YA novel, “Bras and Broomsticks,” was one of my favorites in the teen genre.

If you’re looking for a fun teen read, I cannot think of a better one. Congratulations, Sarah!

In other news, I spent part of the day getting my hair done, puttering around the house, riding bikes with my son and jumping on the trampoline with him. Alexander is newly fascinated by back-yard bug-catching, so we beat the bushes in search lady bugs. Kiddo spent a lot of time playing with his Thomas the Tank Engine set with his daddy, too. The boys (both of ‘em) really love those trains.
Toot toot!

Elke’s dream come true.. day #2.

Remember way back when? When I wrote about my secret goal that I was going for before I came out to New York? Well, believe it or not, the Harper’s Bazaar story wasn’t my goal (but it sure is close and can definitely help get me there..)

I told myself I would get myself the Treo Smartphone if I got my goal, but I figure, hey. Does Harper Bazaar count?

So not only am I shooting Harper’s Bazaar Friday morning, but another 8 page avant garde beauty story for a possible Dutch magazine that afternoon, and on Thursday a beauty story for another magazine. Whew! Sadly, I’m not being paid anything for any of them, and Sephora just got about $150 of my money for new colors, new brushes, etc. I’m not at the level where makeup companies are throwing me their makeup lines just yet. (I got a box from one company but it wasn’t even the makeup I requested, it was all skin care… as in “Oh, we’re not promoting makeup this season, just skin care.”) Oh geez thanks. But I can’t use it. That wasn’t what I needed.

I’ve also been looking for assistants in New York as well, but with my ever changing schedule, I have yet to meet with anyone, because when I need to reschedule, they flake on me. Geez, if only they knew. And to me, professionalism is the most important thing. Why? Because they reflect on me. If I have a bad assistant, I don’t get hired again. And it’s thousands of dollars I could lose for one day. I can’t afford to have that happen. At all. Everyone gets one chance with me and that’s it. No do overs. Rikki came just in time. We met last week, she’s a young makeup artist from San Fran transplanted to NY and I told her I think she just hit the mother load. I need her for Harper’s Bazaar. I think she’s so excited, she can hardly talk. My assistants in Los Angeles, are amazing. We have a blast working together and they’re the first ones I call when I get a gig that will pay for them. Why? Because I can 100% count on them. I just need to get together a great group here in NY.

Like they say, you never know what can happen.

Oh and an update? Our model picks are not available on Friday, they can shoot Thursday, but I can’t shoot Thursday, and Thursday’s shoot just went from 4 looks to 10, and now praying my assistant won’t cancel on me. Oh, don’t worry. All that schedule flipping? That’s all normal. A shoot is never set in stone. Never. You just figure whatever happens, happens. I’m used to it by now.

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Breakfast For Dinner - with lots of Champagne!

Sharing some Sucessful Party Ideas…

Unbelievable as it might seem, I am now forty years and one week old. To celebrate, as regular readers already know, I spent a fantastic six days in New York with my family and Fred. They all spoilt me rotten. As if that wasn’t enough, I couldn’t return to San Francisco without throwing a blow-out party with the generous help of my Bay Area friends. I just couldn’t let the opportunity pass me by: Hitting a new decade is a great excuse for a par-tay! I rented a 10,000-song state-of-the-art karaoke setup and declared that the evening’s theme should be Breakfast, Brunch, Champagne and Cocktails.

I had ambitious catering plans which were thwarted by the arrival of the karaoke machine early on Saturday afternoon. I should have been in the kitchen, cooking, but I couldn’t help practising my singing instead. (Believe me, I needed it). The dish above was intended to be several layers of crepes sandwiched with fruit and cream. Instead, for the sake of speed, I ended up quickly caramelizing the crepes with the help of some sugar and my handy blow torch, covering them with a cloud of whipped cream folded with some excellent Blis Maple Syrup, and then topping them with raspberries, tayberries and some candied pecans. [Batch number two, the first lot burnt whilst I turned my back for a ~~song~~ second].

My lemon poppy seed muffins also suffered a Karaoke-induced inconsistent fate. There is only one variety of muffin on this plate but the colour of each was determined by how much too long I left each batch in the oven whilst wharbling away to myself. Silly me!

The Fatted Calf - my favourite Bay Area Charcuterie artisans - have recently taken posession of a new smoker. I wasn’t prepared for what a difference this would make to their bacon. Taylor seems to be cutting it thicker than ever and it is beyond delicious. If you live in the Bay Area you owe it to yourself to check out The Fatted Calf’s bacon at your earliest convenience. You will thank me. This batch of bacon was diced up to go in a custardy Portobello mushroom and bacon bread and butter pudding. Mmmmmmm. Other rashers were left whole and put out on the table for nibbling. They didn’t last long…

Dozens of wonderful friends arrived with their own versions of breakfast dishes for the pot luck. Soon our table was laden with french toast, berries, blueberry scones, tortillas, smoked salmon open sandwiches, herb and pinenut scones, strata, shrimp, amazing homemade stickier-than-sticky buns, strawberries, waffles with nutella, sausages on sticks and all sorts of other delicious goodies that had all the guests, and me, groaning with delight. We washed it all down with copious bottles of Veuve Cliquot and other sparkling wines that people were kind enough to bring along, Kir Royals made with Hangar One Framboise, freshly squeezed orange juice, Bloody Marys made with Hangar One’s rare Wasabi Vodka and experimental ingredients like freshly grated horseradish and English Mustard powder. [I don't think I ever did get to sample the result of that particular, peculiar mix].

I wish I had managed to photograph everybody’s wonderful contributions to the meal but, you know, real life got in the way of blogging potential. The lights dimmed, as yet unknown superstars oiled up the karaoke machine, the eating the drinking and the dancing started and we partied on into the small hours. Photographs of people (and food bloggers) losing their inhibitions in front of the karaoke machine are not really suitable for sharing on a food blog. You’ll just have to believe me when I say everyone seemed to be having a very good time indeed…

PS. Thanks again to everyone who joined us in such good spirits and helped me round up a wonderful week of celebration in perfect style. It meant so much to me that all my friends were there. I am a lucky girl, I have wonderful friends. I thank you all. And thanks also, to all of my readers, who left such treasured good wishes as comments on my special day too.

Links, Resources and Further Reading

Bay Area Resources:

Buy Fatted Calf Bacon on Saturdays at | the Farmers Market in SF or Berkeley.
Framboise and incredible Vodka | from Hangar One and St George Spirits.
Raspberries and tayberries | from Yerena Farms
Where to rent Karaoke in San Francisco? | Nick Foster for excellent service.

Archive Alert! On this day in 2005: Rice at the W in San Diego

Food | Eat Local | Party | San Francisco | Bay+Area | Karaoke | Breakfast | Brunch

Newly added links. Yeah, yeah

Newly added links.

Yeah, yeah, yeah. It took a while, but I`ve finally linked all you folks who have been kind enough to read my musings, and whose blogs I`ve come to regularly plunder. Check the new list off to the left. If you want me to add you in, just drop me a comment and I`ll be sure to give you prime placement!!

SPOTLIGHT : Freya North

After last week's review of 'Chloe' got a lot of you debating whether her books were brilliant or utterly dire, we decied it was about time we turned the spotlight toward Freya North. Freya North began writing in 1991, turning...

TO ALL READING: I AM NOT A WOMAN

TO ALL READING: I AM NOT A WOMAN. WHY ARE MY POSTS BEING HIJACKED BY A WOMEN’S ISSUES WEBSITE? There is a website that is contributing to additional traffic to my site. I won’t say its name but it’s billed as a women’s issues website. It is based out of some Eastern European Russian satellite country. The guy who runs it used to steal entire posts from other blogs and use them for his own

Weightier issues. 4 years ago

Weightier issues.

4 years ago, I lived in Bayonne, New Jersey. For those of you lucky enough to never have set foot in Bayonne, I can only describe it as a small, dirty, pointless abyss of a town. I moved there in order to establish residency in New Jersey prior to starting law school. Also, rent was ridiculously cheap considering that Bayonne is a mere 5 miles from mid-town Manhattan. Amazingly, public transportation took no less than 90 minutes ...

Part II: Warm up to Aruba

Last Monday, I had yet another round of interviews at the offices of my favorite prospective employer. [I’ve had so many interviews that I believe they should start paying me for this.] But it went well, and so I was further encouraged.

That night, Red Beard and I went out for sushi. Over dinner, we discussed existentialist literature. He graciously overlooked it when I wrongly blurted out, “Dante’s Inferno!” instead of Sartre’s No Exit. Red Beard is a bit of an intellectual, while I am intellectually lazy, so his patience in this regard often saves me from total mortification while I stride to keep up with his mental rigor.

In other words, we’re nerds and we know it. And that’s just fine with us.

Tuesday, Red Beard went to work and I went to the gym. As I zoned out to Chamillionaire’s Ridin’ on Mtv (“Tryin’ to catch me ridin’ dirty.” Such a catchy little ditty, that one) my cell phone rang. It was Prospective Employer. I scrambled to mute the television, but ultimately realized it would be wiser to actually get off the elliptical and catch my breath before speaking. I opted to allow the call to go to voicemail.

I quit my workout and assessed my mental agility. Not good. I went back up to the apartment and had a quick lunch and a little caffeine – but not enough to get me jittery – to induce the correct level of alertness and perkiness. Then I sat down in front of the computer so I could take notes and return the phone call.

The role I’m trying for is editorial in nature, and so Prospective Employer gave me a homework assignment to come up with some ideas for two series of articles, weekly and monthly, for a set demographic within a constrained topical area. He gave me a week to complete the assignment, laughingly apologized for giving me homework while I’d be in Aruba, and we politely hung up.

Damn it damn it damn it. I’d been hoping for an offer, not another hurdle.

But I was immediately flooded with ideas. I began typing thoughts as quickly as they came. Then I hopped in the shower while I thought some more. I hurriedly dressed and sat back down at the computer so I could take down a few additional inspirations. Then it really sunk in that I had to bring this crap with me to Aruba. What a freakin’ drag.

When Red Beard got home, I explained why his bed was covered with my summer wardrobe and why I hadn’t finished packing my bags for our trip. Our plan had been that I would pack during the day, then I would cook dinner and clean up while it was his turn to pack. Since it looked like a bomb went off in my luggage and exploded sundresses and bikinis all over his room, that plan obviously needed revising.

We didn’t have much time to dwell on the situation, since we had a few errands to run. We went out and bought Red Beard a couple cool summer shirts and stopped at the bank for cash. When we got back home, I began to heat the pork loin and prepare some sweet potatoes for boiling while he opened up his suitcase on the dining room table.

After attempting to slice open a still-raw hunk o’pork several times, I became frustrated as time neared 10. This dinner was only supposed to take 20 minutes to roast, and it was taking more like 40. The potatoes had been long mashed, and Red Beard had set them in the microwave to keep warm.

Finally, dinner was ready. The fact that Red Beard enjoyed his meal made me feel much less like a culinary disaster. I almost never cook, and so I was a rather nervous to test my domesticity (or seeming lack thereof) on the object of my affection.

Once we finally climbed into bed, Red Beard turned his head on his pillow and said to me, “I don’t think I can sleep! I feel like a kid on Christmas Eve!” But we managed to sleep at least a little bit, and we got ourselves to the airport the next morning early enough to hit the bar during the 8 o’clock morning hour.

… To be continued …