Coffee has been something of the Topic Of The Week, well, with my husband at any rate.
The Physics Department, deeming fancy coffee unnecessary on purely academic grounds, is rationing stocks for the summer. Supplies have now run out altogether. There is a fancy coffee drought. Continue reading
Over coffee and the papers I received the following text message – no word of a lie – it’s still on my phone if you want to check;
This is my new number
Fair enough, I thought. So I have no idea who you are, but it’s early. Another cup of coffee, all will be clearer. A few minutes pass.
What U up 2
Curious. Continue reading
The last time I made Sangria things did not work out so well.
1 broken screen door, 1 smashed pitcher, 1 ruined white rug covered in blood red stains, and 1 white wall now splattered ripper-style that needed re-painting.
Sangria 1. Kate nil.
Continue reading
I have a soft spot for cherries that’s firmly rooted in my childhood.
The skirt with the net underskirt, spotted with cherries, that I wore to the Headlands Hotel Disco. Cherryaid at birthday parties (the only time my sister and I got free reign to choose beverages). A cherry-scented eraser that was all the rage at school until they were banned because the chemicals made us all go hyper.  I’m still partial to a cherry jelly sweet or a lick of cherry lip-balm. I eat maraschino cherries out of the jar and pour their syrup into club soda on hot days. Continue reading
I only met Tia once. She was telling a hilarious anecdote to a gallery full of strangers, about the time she gatecrashed a party on Justin Bieber’s tour bus.
But I am friends with Lisa, and Lisa was friends with her, well, friends in that they had both been interns at the same company one summer and had kept a kind of competitive eye on each-other ever since. So when Tia invited her to an apartment warming for her new place – bought, not rented – this would usually have been cause of jealous muttering and sulking and probably a bit of drinking too.
But Lisa had an ace up her sleeve. She had recently started seeing TJ, who was handsome in an indi pop star sort of way – all skinny jeans and stripy t-shirts and eating McDonalds because it was so retro. His father owned a company in Hoboken that made the kind of dye that you need to set a logo on a plastic bag. He worked in the family business, waiting for his band to really take off,  lived in a loft in Williamsburg and was rumored to have a sizeable trust fund. Almost a month in, Lisa had met his mother for lunch in Bloomies, and the general consensus was that things were going pretty well. Continue reading
In the middle of a muggy week a sharp effervescent gin and tonic can be relied upon to lift the mood.
Other than Pimms, (and a hot cup of Earl Grey tea, of course) nothing quite has the power to make me feel nostalgic for home more than gin and tonic. The fresh herbal smell as the bubbles prickle the air takes me back to half imagined, half remembered games of croquet on the college lawn, and scratch rounders matches in the park, and al fresco picnics by the river listening to the city bells and the sound of an improbable string quartet rehearsing on Port Meadow. Continue reading
Whilst truffling around the corner shop I noticed a delivery of Green and Blacks chocolate wedged on a shelf next to the Twinkies. And there it was; Mayan Gold.
It’s kind of orange-y, and spicy and utterly delicious, and eating it straight out of the packet, possibly while reading a magazine and drinking a glass of merlot would be Monday treat enough for anyone. It’s a very adult – think almost x-rated – version of the Terry’s chocolate orange that Father Christmas puts annually in the toe of my stocking. Continue reading
James the Tenor, impressed by Mark’s invitation to dinner, arrived bang on time and carrying a bag bulging with wine, a bunch of tiny black grapes from the Union Square farmer’s market and an artisanal goat cheese wrapped in a vine leaf
“We’re having chicken. It’s a Martha†said Mark as he opened the door to his Gramercy walk up – white rug, white sofa, Jonathan Adler cross stitch throw pillows, Ella on the iPod, Ikea peace lily on the bookshelf.
“Can I do anything to help?â€
“Sure, thanks†said Mark, heading into the kitchen.
James smiled. Date number 4, and things were looking promising. In mere moments he’d be sitting in the kitchen, perched on a counter, watching Mark bending down to get the chicken out of the oven, sipping a chilled glass of pinot, watching Mark bending down to pick up a dropped dish cloth, nibbling a kettle chip or two, watching Mark bending down to get plates out of a cupboard, and maybe giving a green salad a light tossing. It would be a living metaphor perhaps for things to come. Continue reading
It’s hot outside and grapefruit are on special offer at the fruit stall. That’s more than a good enough reason to consider making a pitcher of cocktails.
Perhaps it’s the color – a gorgeous rosy pink. Perhaps it’s the name – evocative of beachy get-aways – but in the middle of a swelteringly hot week in the city, a fresh, sweet-sharp Sea-Breeze feels like a good idea.
I love Nutella. If you don’t, I think it unlikely that we will be friends.
This is ideal for gliding into the week on a velvety chocolate high.
I made it for Adam a few days after he discovered by receiving the wrong text message, that Carl was in fact seeing another man.
LKNG FWD TO LKN U 2NITE. Continue reading
