I have combined three of my favorite activities, in a sort:
To wit: knitting, the consumption of high-end liquor and messing around with my computer.
Another one down. Ask me in three years how bad this one was. I should a rent deserted island for that one.
So I b—tch for the fun of it. This one really wasn’t any worse than the last six (40 was a different matter altogether. I learned along time ago to take the week off from work, spend lots of money (who better to choose my birthday gifts?), eat cheese and drink wine (fortified, if possible).
Wednesday night, J took me to Artisanal on Park Ave. For those of you not in the NY/NJ/CT area, this is a cheese restaurant. They do serve other things, but I never get past the cheese (and wine). We started with a cheese plate: 4 cheeses served with dried beef, salami, apple, pear, grapes, guava paste, fig paste and pate. I chose 1 goat (a Crottin), 1 sheep (I forget) and 2 cow cheeses (Cheshire and Epoisses). I loved all of them. The cheshire was my favorite, the sheep’s cheese was J’s. The Epoisses was liquid, best scooped out with a piece of bread. We almost brought one home. It was like natural fondue.
We followed this with fondue (couldn’t help ourselves: it’s only once a year). J had classic Swiss (too much nutmeg) and I had the Artisanal blend. Both were good, but mine was better. [I will also boast that I’ve done better at home with cheeses from our local cheese shop, Tuller. [Cost me more to make it at home, BTW. I have put $32 worth of cheese in a fondue for two. It was worth it.]
And the wine was a Riesling.
Then we had dessert. J had the Pineapple Renverse (pineapple upside-down cake) and I had an espresso and a slice of pecan praline cheesecake, made with goat cheese. This is one of the best cheesecakes I have ever had, not too heavy, not too gooey or gummy, but light. The cheesecake is worth the trip to Midtown.
We finished this decadence off with an Armagnac for J and a 15-year-old Madeira for me, my first Madeira. I’ve got to have more of that.
Madeira is what port wants to wants to be when it grows up.
I wanted to drink something older than me, but there wasn’t anything on the wine list that old. The nearest thing was a lovely port less than half my age, but at $45 a (thimble-size) glass? I might be over-the-hill, but I ain’t stupid. Wait three years.
They did have Chateau d’Yquem at a heart-staggering price (as if all that cheese wasn’t enough), but I wasn’t in the mood for Sauterne. Fortunately.
Took a cab home. Ate too much to deal with the subway.
We also bought more cheese on the way out: Roomano, Zamorano and some Welsh thing with little or no vowels in the name (it’s not on the label). We tried the Zamorano tonight (Thursday). *drool*
Otherwise, I became better acquainted with my new friend, PowerMac G5, flossed and brushed my teeth, showered and got dressed for dinner. If this presages retirement, I will be one of the most boring people on the planet. After we got home, I played with the Mac some more. But didn’t post.
Thank you to J for a lovely evening (even though he never reads this).
Today, more time with the Mac. Then a doctor’s appt to deal with the continuing aftershocks from the alpaca reaction (sorry no A-side shots–B-side, for that matter–until then). Which is a shame since, I picked up a Ted Baker shirt (really annoying website) and a Ben Sherman shirt (actual shirt) at Gerry’s on Bleaker St. Now that I’ve been to the Ben Sherman site, I’m slightly annoyed that the shirt is cheaper direct by $6. But then, what’s six bucks for instant gratification? This is a cool shirt. I got only three buttons done before I decided to buy it.
Is it right to wear a shirt that’s cuter than you? I know the designer wants to sell shirts, but I’m fairly certain he’s not thinking of middle-aged men when he put them together. Frankly, I wouldn’t. I’d think of 6′4″ 22-year-olds with 29-1/2″ waists. Who wouldn’t? I mean, if you had a choice?
Then back home to finally get some knitting in before the appearance of Stephanie Pearl-McPhee (aka YarnHarlot at 6pm in the 11th floor auditorium of Lord & Taylor (which, as far as I am aware, doesn’t sell yarn).
Stephanie was great. She was funny and warm. And does have insights into why one knits.
The second-most astounding thing of the evening, after Stephanie herself, was her demonstration of her knitting technique. I couldn’t follow it. It was too fast. I can’t even describe it.
Out of a hundred or so in attendance, three of us were male, one of which apparently all the women have heard of (me, I’m clueless). I did get a bit of the ‘You can knit?’ thing. Well, I lived through the ‘You can cook?’ thing. J’s coworker, Ann, who does knit, but almost never mentions it on her blog, was there with a friend, so I wasn’t totally thrown to the wolves.
Is my iTunes gay? It keeps playing Madonna.
I actually took the knitting on the subway today. Not that I looked up much, but generally women seemed intrigued, men thought I was a freak.
Way late. Running out of words to type.
BTW, the number of words the Blogger spell-checker doesn’t know is astounding.
As of somewhere between 6 and 7 this morning (6:47 CST?) I will be 47-years-old. Cr*p.
I’ll leave it at that.
Not really. Cr*p.
AARGH
AARGH
AARGH
AARGH
AARGH
Cr*p.
Roosevelt Field was packed and there were only two clerks per store. And those were all rearranging displays. Every school on Long Island is either on spring break of lets out at 1:30. And t h e y a l l m o v e s o s l o w l y.
Otherwise, the clerk at Mexx was so cute I couldn’t look at him. And he probably was half my age. Seriously, AARGH.
When I was eighteen, I remember, I was so p*ssed that I could never find anything I liked in a 27″ waist. That lasted a few years. Then at some point I couldn’t find anything in a 29″ waist. I have no recollection of a 28″ waist. Then I came out (stress-reduction), moved to New York, got a job that actually paid, ate well and drank in public, and skipped right through 30″ and have struggled to keep 31″ (rather wide given my height, but the whole family looks the same from the back (easy to spot in the mall) so it’s not my fault).
There were five pairs of pants in Roosevelt Field mall in a 31″ waist that didn’t ride up to my nipples and didn’t make my ass look the size of Colorado, i.e., khaki. I bought all of them.
What does it say that Long Island’s Roosevelt Field Gap no longer carries Slim Fit pants?
Note to Tres: I’d seriously rather be at work than shopping. I have a secret hope: J will be overcome with an permanent urge to do all of my shopping and will gladly return anything I don’t like. I like buying things, but I hate shopping. I managed five pairs of pants, five shirts, three packages of underwear and three pieces of Godiva chocolate in under two hours.
And Banana Republicanism still sucks.
To those of you who believed I’d spend the entire vacation facing my 23″ Apple flat screen: Ha. I did leave the apartment today.
For exactly one hour. I went shopping in Soho, Bloomingdales to be precise. Bloomies has my shaving soap and I’ve been lathering from the bottom of the bowl for a week. I love going into a dead store where any sale is a sale. Such attention. I was in and out in fifteen minutes. It is possible of course that I was bringing the general level of youth and beauty down so low that they waited on me just get me out to restore their aura.
It was, as I predicted, too cold, and while I did check out A/X and Banana Republicanism (work clothes), I soon realized that all of these shops can easily be found, plus more, in an indoor mall and getting from one shop to another doesn’t have to involve b*tching about the weather.
Tomorrow afternoon (the housekeeper changed her days): Roosevelt Field, where I expect the men’s departments will be empty. Woo-hoo.
Making good progress on AppleScript, working through parsing strings, manipulating lists, and Finder commands. It’s nice to know that one can be a geek on the Mac as well.
Note to Jon: two weeks away from the PC (except at work) and I’m seriously in like with the Mac. Don’t miss XP a bit. I’m already confusing the keystrokes at work.
As near as I can figure it, 1 day, 7 hours, 50 mins to go.
I made the pecan-coated chicken again. This time I used rubber/foam non-stick oven mitts (Xmas gift from the unacknowledged “in-laws”) to pull the pan out of the oven, and the chicken successfully arrived on the countertop, still edible.
It was pretty good. The yogurt and pecan/breadcrumb mixture kept the skinless chicken breast moist. The only thing I (& J) would change is to add some fresh thyme to the breadcrumb mix.
Today I started teaching myself AppleScript. I’ve written a script that creates a new folder on the desktop and gives it a random name.
I got my order from elann.com, including an Addi turbo #7 40″ circ, so I can continue on with the baby blanket. As I see it now off the 14″ straights, I can see I’m making a blanket for a 3-year-old, not an infant. Much larger than I thought. Need more yarn. But it’s oh-so-much-easier now that I’m not waving a ton of yarn around on the end of each needle.
C’est la vie.
I did laundry too. Ah, vacation.
And I updated my recommended blogs.