Tuesday, December 27, 2011

Xmas 2011 – Ebenezers Unite!


As much as I tried this year to be jolly and bright, I couldn't even muster up one Ho-ho-ho. I had carefully planned what I thought would be one of the best Christmases ever, but “Bah, humbugger,” it was a bust.





I booked rooms for us at the W NY Hotel, one of the best places to stay in NYC. We were in midtown, which means we were moments away from most of the holiday season action.

On the 24th, my son Grant and I woke late morning, had breakfast and then were off to get festive. We window-shopped and sang carols as we strolled down Fifth Avenue, watched the skaters at Rockefeller Center, got haircuts (okay, that's not holidayish, but it sure is a treat), visited Saint Patrick’s Cathedral and bought presents.



While out looking for "Christmas," we stumbled upon the French restaurant, La Grenouille. What a find La Grenouille is. (Btw, grenouille means "frogs legs.") It's incredibly elegant, with a dining room that has all the beauty, warmth and charm of French restaurants from years past. Turns out that La Grenouille is the last of the greats. Remember Lutèce, La Côte Basque and Lespinasse? Well, La Grenouille was part of that same Frenchpack cuisine and just happened to open the same year I was born...destiny!


We hit one snag: this is a formal dining space and we were not appropriately dressed. But as luck would have it, this worked to our advantage. Why? Because we had to dine upstairs, which is really where you want to be after a morning of shopping and singing. Talk about a drop-dead-gorgeous space! I'll let the pictures speak for themselves.





Before La Grenouille became a restaurant, it was a stable and, according to our server, housed the carriage for the Vanderbilts when they lived in what is now the Cartier Mansion.






Upstairs also has quite the story: the space was once the home of the French artist Bernard Lamotte. This atelier was nicknamed Le Bocal (the fishbowl) since many bohemian artists and French expats would hang out there with him and his wife. The Lamottes also entertained some of the top A-Listers of the day: Greta Garbo, Charlie Chaplin and Marlene Dietrich, just to name a few. And, three of his paintings still adorn the walls!


As we sipped our 2009 Puligny-Montrachet ( tasting note: if you're looking for a fruit forward white don't look to the 09 Puligny-Montrachet why? because this wine is all about the mineralty) and ate frogs legs (after all, how could you not order the frogs legs) things were beginning to look a lot more like Christmas. Sadly it didn't last...



After our wonderful experience at La Grenouille, we did a little more shopping, and then headed back to our hotel to dress for the evening’s affairs. At four o’clock, we went for a nosh at db Bistro Moderne located across the street from Lincoln Center. We ordered the Charcuteries thinking, "What a perfect bite to have before the show, and more importantly, how can anyone mess up cold cuts?” To answer that question, the cured meats were fine; however, I wish I could say the same for the pȃtés. If I had only one word to describe them, it wouldn't be an actual word but rather a syllable: Uck!



We had one glass of wine, which I won’t bother mentioning, as it, too, was a disappointment. At that point, I was starting to feel like Debbie Downer, so I quickly tried to switch gears by suggesting we go next door for hot cocoa and cappuccinos. Sadly, the mood there was not much better: the staff was annoyed by having to work on Christmas Eve, and the patrons were grumpy because the store was crowded. Oy vey already! Time to move on! I had hoped that things would improve once we crossed the avenue in the warm December air. Wait – maybe that was it! It's December, and it feels more like March. No, that's silly, isn’t it? How could the weather be the culprit for this Ebenezer’s Eve that has taken the skip out of our step and replaced it with a Quasimodo drag?

Whether it was the weird temperatures or not, I was determined to drum up some spirit and was relying on Hansel and Gretel at the Met to "bring it!" Seeing this opera on Xmas Eve has been on my "To Be Experienced” list for a long time, the same way going to the Macy's Parade on Thanksgiving and spending New Year’s Eve in Times Square used to be. Supposedly, it's the opera to see before all other operas, as it will leave such a wonderful impression on you that you'll be encouraged to see others. Think of it as your Launch Opera.


Some trivia: the German composer Engelbert Humperdinck (no relation to the pop singer, whose real name is Arnold Dorsey...so how did he end up with Jerry as a first name? His friends would call him Jerry because he often imitated comedian Jerry Lewis, and like most nicknames, it stuck) wrote Hansel and Gretel, and it was first performed on December 23, 1893, in Weimar, Germany. Even though its first performance in America was in October 1895, the opera became synonymous with Christmas. Perhaps its holiday association is due to it being the first complete opera broadcast from the Met on Christmas Day, 1931.





Arriving at the Met is always special. The fountain was lit (btw, every time I see the fountain, I flashback to the scene from the movie Moonstruck. You know, when Cher is rendezvousing with Nicholas Cage to see La Boheme?), and everyone was dressed so nicely. We arrived early enough to leisurely find our seats just as the starburst crystal chandeliers began ascending to the ceiling. The orchestra began playing, the curtain rose and the singing started. Yes, it was in English, but that didn’t mean we were able to understand what they were saying...




Halfway into Act One, it was clear that my guests were bored. I tried to make light during intermission by suggesting we operatically sing our conversations for the rest of the evening.
I started by singing that we indulge in a glass of champagne! We're at the Met, it's Xmas Eve, let’s be festive and have something that sparkles! Great idea, right? WRONG. Complete fail. I'm thinking at $18 a glass, it should be okay. It was UNdrinkable, which killed me. Why not at least serve Korbel? After all, it's the MET, not Lou's Playhouse! Serve something decent! Sheesh.

So let’s sum things up... I have three guests who were served food that was barely edible, drank less than average wine, are now bored out of their minds and can’t even get a decent glass of bubbly. It's got to get better, no? The bells rang to announce that intermission was over, so we made our way back to our seats. Things picked up with the arrival of the big heads. (That's also around the same time my ADD kicked in...all I kept thinking about during the scene with the big heads were the people inside those costumes – how hard they must have worked, all the money they spent on singing lessons, how they must have suffered for the love of their art, perhaps even sacrificed romance, lived meagerly, ate cereal for dinner, but how it was all worth it to follow their passion, their dream, knowing in their heart of hearts that their big break would eventually come! Then one day, the phone rings and it's their agent on the other end of the line announcing that they landed a role AT THE MET in a production of one of the most famous operas in musical history! Imagine their joy at that moment, only to be dashed by another moment five seconds later when they learn that they'll be playing the part of the third big head on the right in Act Two.





I would love to tell you how, after the performance, it started to snow as we headed to have a late dinner at Artisanal Fromagerie, Bistro and Wine Bar, and that the wine and food were delightful and the service incomparable, but I would be lying. It was understaffed, obnoxiously crowded and they were out of the Christmas goose. We officially became the Three Scrooges, even though there were four of us!


Conclusion: Next year I will look for Christmas at the Beach!



Wednesday, December 21, 2011

Cats and Women



"Women are cats," to quote my Mommy Dearest...if you knew my mom, you might understand her attitude towards her own sex.








She was a very shy beauty of the 40s. My father said she looked like silver screen actress Hedy Lamarr. Mom’s timorous behavior was misinterpreted as conceit, making her easy prey to vicious verbal attacks by female coworkers.






According to my mother, her one and only friend, Pauline, "stole" Danny, Mom’s first real love,who, at the time, was an officer in the Army.
(Side note: Who doesn't love a man in uniform?)
Since therapy wasn't in vogue back then, she came to her own conclusion that the breakup wasn’t a result of Danny losing interest, but happened because her best bud was a feline disguised in a pencil skirt and padded shoulders.

This betrayal sealed the deal for Mom. From that moment on, she was steadfast in her belief that ALL women were cats. She would forever warn my sisters and me to be wary of them. Her story of betrayal was told – and retold – whenever I had a hurtful experience with a friend. Mom would immediately begin sharing her tale of woe as if it happened yesterday: how she could have married Danny, the tall, blonde, blue-eyed officer, had it not been for Pauline, the Jezebel who sunk her claws into him and stole him away!



How did her opinion of our gender affect me? For the longest time, I preferred the company of men over women, minus my grammar school friends. How was it that they escaped my dread?
Well, for starters, my interest in boys was almost nil before the famous preteen hormones kicked in. After all, pettiness doesn’t usually rear its ugly head until middle school, and luckily, there were never any incidents prior.
I was able to escape Mom's torch song rendition of "Danny and Pauline" until I hit the 6th grade.


It seems that when most girls turn 12, they suddenly start caring about material things, asking questions like, “What kind of a car does your dad drive?” They also become preoccupied with labels. (Really? You're 12, and you're making fun of me because my shirt doesn't have a polo player on it? Really? Of course, the fashion of the 70s went more like, "It's not a Huckapoo?" Remember those?)

This shallow female behavior only reinforced Mom's negative view of those who walked the earth with XX chromosomes. As a result, I steered clear of them. That’s not to say that I didn't have chick friends – I did, but they were my same friends from grammar school, and were thankfully a lot more down-to-earth than those competitive, label-conscious girls. Translation: they didn't care if their Huckapoo got dirty, or if they broke a nail while playing paddleball.


It wasn't until I turned 40 that I was able to really appreciate and enjoy the company of women. Don't get me wrong – I’ve met and known some women who are as petty as they come, and if they were in my life, Mom would be preaching away. Fortunately, I've quickly weeded them out, leaving those in my life who are non-judgmental, inspirational and extremely supportive.



Recently, I cleaned out my closet. It was time for lots of reasons: first, I want a new wardrobe, including shoes, for my upcoming birthday, and second, those size zeroes and 2s will not be draping this body again. So it got me thinking: Wouldn't it be fun to host a wine tasting/clothing auction? I invited many of the really great women I know, and told them to bring a friend who has not yet discovered the wonders of delicious cheeses and pasta, nor the side effects of eating them on a regular basis.
I can’t begin to tell you how much we laughed and carried on as we shared stories, tried on outfits, and tasted wines from around the globe.



The top three favorite wines of the tasting were; 2009 Joh. Jos. Prum, 2006 Ceuso, and 2009 William Fevre . Joanie, my childhood friend's mom (who, by the way, makes a hell of a meata-ball) had never tasted German wine before. What was her reaction to this slightly sweet yet crisp Riesling? Love at first sip. Moments like this can’t help but make me smile. For some, wine may be just another beverage, but for me, it's a whole world. To be able to share my world, especially with some of my favorite women, is truly a pleasure.


( Germany, Sicilia, and France)


BTW: Women drink more wine than men - 60% to 40%; however, men collect more wine than women, but that's for another blog…stay tuned!

Tuesday, December 13, 2011

Sometimes Wine Makes Me Yawn

Why doesn't everyone drink wine?
Well, I'll tell ya, pilgrim. It’s because most people still equate wine with the elite. Not that that’s entirely wrong…I mean, rarely, if at all, do you see someone at the local bowling alley swirling a glass of 2005 Chateau Lafite or 1962 Musigny as they wait patiently for their gutter ball’s return. But why shouldn’t wine be consumed by everyone, including those in a league sporting shirts with pins on the breast pocket?! Granted, some may not be able to afford first growth Bordeaux, but they can still enjoy a glass of Beaujolais with the rest of us.

Why are we, the American peeps, so intimated by the juice? Like a lot of other wine enthusiasts, I blame it on prohibition! So now that we’ve solved that, let’s move on and start enjoying "the nectar of the Gods" in the same way that our founding fathers did. Remember Thomas Jefferson, our 3rd “Presidente” and principal author of our Declaration of Independence? He was a huge fan of the juice, especially French wine.

(Side note: There was an incident that occurred within the wine industry not long ago, and things have not been the same since. In 1985, a bottle of 1787 Chateau Lafite was sold at a Christie's auction in London. The bottle supposedly belonged to Thomas Jefferson, and it fetched a price tag to the tune of $156,450! Malcolm Forbes was the "lucky" buyer. A few years later, a lawsuit was filed by billionaire Bill Koch, and a book titled The Billionaire's Vinegar was published. Seems that in 1988, Mr. William Koch bought 4 of these bottle for $500,000, and then proceeded to research their authenticity. The results? Counterfeit! Aside from the rule, “Always try to verify an old label’s provenance,” what have we learned from this? That drama occurs among the stiff shirts just as much as it does Hollywood ...take that, Kim, and your five minute marriage!)

Another reason I believe that the atmosphere at wine tastings has taken on such pomp and circumstance is the British Invasion. It certainly didn’t come from my Italian grandfather, who drank his Chianti from a glass jelly jar. As far as cultures go, I'm of the opinion that the Brits have the most starch in their collars, and their approach to wine has certainly confirmed that for me. Hello, Christie’s and Sotheby's.

Which lends itself to the next question; Why are most wine tastings/events so boring to the average bear?





Let me set the stage of what it’s like to attend the average wine tasting. The first thing you’ll see is a large table which seats 8 to 10 people, sometimes as many as 15, with three to four wine glasses on the right hand side of the dinner plate. As you enter the room, a fluted glass of champagne is served to "open the palate.” Within 30 minutes, attendees are asked to be seated so that the tasting can begin. The first flight of wine is poured, and the sommelier usually announces each wine as the course is served.

The table is obnoxiously quiet (unless I'm there ;-0). Next comes the process of examining the glass by tilting it upon the white table cloth or holding it up to the light for signs of its condition, followed by The Swirl... some hold the glass in the air (for the record, I find this the most painfully hoity-toity way of swirling), while most leave the glass on the table, hold onto the base of the stem and move the glass in a tight, circular clockwise motion, approximately three times. This releases the aromas of the wine and allows for the most crucial part of the tasting to commence – The Sniffing. I like to say, The Nose Knows! (It's really all about the nose, so if your honker is clogged, you might as well stay home since you will not be able to enjoy anything, including food, with a broken beak.) Then finally, The Taste... just a small amount to circulate around the mouth, and, if you're really good, you’ll suck air simultaneously into your mouth while the wine remains pooled below your tongue. At this point there are two options: expectorate (yes, spit) or swallow.

This process of three/four wines per course will generally continue for the next 2 to 3 hours, but I've been to tastings where the wine and food kept coming from what seemed like an endless supply. Honestly, by the fourth flight of wines, they could have served Turning Leaf, and even the most astute palate wouldn’t have known the difference. What really kills me is not the bounty of dishes and flights, but that they usually serve the best wines last... sigh.


In between the food and wine there may be some conversation, but what I find most curious is the lack of opinions shared on the wine. Rarely do people speak up (unless they're at my table ;-0)!
Truth is, everyone has something to say; they're just afraid they'll be wrong. That’s just plain CRAZY, since wine, like art, or even dating, is subjective. Take George Clooney (get in line, ladies). Not everyone thinks he’s hot, right? Okay, most do, but certainly not all. Anyway, bottom line about most wine tastings is that if you're not up to sitting for a long time next to strangers who may not even talk to you the entire evening, all while consuming large quantities of wine and high caloric dishes, I suggest you take a pass.



What about wine events? Okay here's the lowdown on what it's like to attend a typical wine event. Sometimes, but not always, qualified sommeliers will be the ones pouring the wine behind each of the stations. They will rattle off a bunch of information that you’ll more than likely forget as soon as it leaves their lips, including how to pronounce the names of most French, Italian and especially German wines.







Depending on the cost of the event, the wines are usually donated by distributors trying to promote their products. Problem is, most do not represent themselves with their best wines but rather with their more affordable ones. Outcome? Lots of expectorating! This now lends the question, "How do I enjoy myself at a wine event?" For starters, bring friends, because even though you would think a wine event is the perfect venue to meet people, it's really not. Why? Again, it goes back to most people keeping to themselves. Also, before you commit to the event, you may want to do some research on the wines being offered. The price is not always a true indicator, as there are lots of very affordable events where the juice is actually quite tasty.



I was attending so many of these serious wine events that I was inspired to create the type of tastings and events that I would want to attend myself: ones where the atmosphere was social, lively and engaging; where the sommelier’s nose wasn’t stuck in the clouds as he spoke of the various aromas of a typical Pinot Noir; and where playful wine games were used to help educate curious tasters.



As a matter of fact, I just hosted a small wine event in Hoboken (insert plug here) featuring a selection of bubblies (you may want to skip this part, as I'm about to unabashedly toot my own horn, just like I do about my meatballs). I create fun, interactive wine events and wine tastings where people laugh, relax and get to know each other as they experience wines they may never had thought to try. My hope is that they walk away less intimated by wine than when they first arrived, and better yet, end the night having made a new friend or two. To me, that’s what wine is all about - enjoyment on every level!



(This past wine event took place at the W New York hotel on Lexington.)

P.S.: Don't get me wrong I also enjoy traditional wine tastings. It just depends on who is hosting it. As a matter of fact, I recently returned from Chicago where Hart Davis Hart held a Leroy (pronounced "Le-wha") tasting at RIA, the fabulous restaurant located in the lovely Elysian Hotel. Afterwards, Marc Smoler, HDH's MM, took a bunch of us for a Wiener Circle run where he brought a mag of Muga for us to enjoy with our Chi-dog! ...
Go Marc!
For the record, NO chocolate milk shakes were ordered. ; )

Friday, December 2, 2011

House Guests and Fish…




Remember your mom telling you that guests are like fish? After three days, they begin to stink? Well, what she failed to mention was that there are some people who start stinking in less than 24 hours, making you wonder, "Who raised these people?" Perhaps Romulus and Remus had siblings that the myth overlooked, and the folks that show up at your doorstep bearing gifts that they open and drink themselves are kin to those famous – or infamous – Romans.




(Before I continue to share my tale of The Guest from "What the Hell?", I must preface this blog by stating that his antics, however annoying and inappropriate they may have been, did not ruin my or any of my other guests’ holiday. Actually, he did me a service by teaching my teenage boys how NOT to behave! My sons also had an opportunity to witness just how wonderful visitors can be. My younger son even commented that he loved having our house guests, as it made him feel like he was part of a fun fraternity. Take Romain from Burgundy. He did, and is still doing, an excellent job representing France. His graciousness and appreciation for my hospitality would dispel any negative feelings one might have toward the land where fashion and fine wine reign.

For me, I have to own my part in this debacle. I need to learn that, before I open my home to someone, we must first put in a significant amount of quality “face time.” As my boys would say, "My bad!”



As for my Thanksgiving feast and the wines that shined? I must admit, without any modesty, that everything rated a double YUM! As I mentioned in my earlier blog, paring wines to a Thanksgiving dinner can be a challenge, but the other two challenges are worse: yielding a moist turkey, and making sure all the sides are served simultaneously hot.



An absolute must for any kitchen is a timer. I'd be lost without mine. Same goes for a meat thermometer (don't rely on that plug that pops out when the bird is done unless you want it overdone)! Another big help to guarantee that everything comes out just the way you like is to create a schedule and post it on the fridge: one that includes all the details from when to baste the turkey to what time the asparagus goes into the oven. My personal To Do List also has things like what time to light the candles, when to put a fire on in the fireplace, when to turn on the porch lights and music, and of course, what time to chill the wines and decant the reds. No need to tell me when to pop the champagne, as there is nothing nicer than sipping on a cold, crisp rose any time of day. Murph, my WFF, made sure of that as he helped me in the kitchen.

My menu consisted of tangerine glazed turkey with apricot stuffing, artichokes, mushroom soup, broccoli soup, acorn squash with apple-pie filling, Brussels sprouts, grilled asparagus with roasted garlic and of course, yams with marshmallow topping (‘cause it wouldn't be Thanksgiving without ‘em)! Originally, I was going to make two turkeys, but at the last moment I settled on one. So happy I did, but I will share with you what I think is a great cooking tip: I made the mushroom gravy from Chef Dave Martin's class into soup, and kept it simmering on the stove in a double boiler. When it was time to make the gravy for my bird, the soup was turned into gravy in no time flat by simply raising the heat and whisking away at it for a few minutes... loooove it!

The lineup of wines was fantastic, especially since Murph, a.k.a. Monsieur La Tache, brought a few gems from his personal collection. But for me, the double magnum of 1992 Corton-Charlemagne Tollot-Beaut & Fils we opened to toast not only the day but my son Grant’s return from his five month stay in China was, to quote Murph, "Superb.” The capsule was collapsed and there was some concern about the condition of the wine, but once the juice was poured and the intense yet delicate aromas of this 19 year-old chardonnay were released, it was, for me, the star of the show. (An interesting story about the wine: Corton-Charlemagne is named after the Emperor Charlemagne. His wife ordered that a percentage of the vineyard be cleared and then filled with the chardonnay grape. Why? Well, Charlemagne was known to dribble now and again, and when drinking a favorite red, would stain his royal beard!)



Now back to The Guest. While mulling over the best way to describe what it’s like to host someone whose idea of How to be a Good Guest is the polar opposite of mine, I decided to have some fun and create a little quiz. I call it:

Are You a Guest from WTH?! For those not text savvy
WTH stands for: What- The - Hell!

Here are the Scores:

If you score an “O” (pronounced with a prolonged oooh), you're not terrible, but you could still use a refresher course in proper etiquette. You have not burned any bridges, and you may still be included at the next meaningless, large get-together.

If you score an “OM” (that stands for "Oh MY!", and is pronounced with a prolonged “y” on “My.” Just for emphasis, let’s raise the voice an octave on the “My” as well!), be aware that people are looking at you sideways and trying to figure out if your company is truly worth their time.

If you score an “OMG” (pronounced “Oh” – pause here – “My” – another slight pause – then GOD! Hold the GOD to drive home your point…), consider yourself crossed off the invite list. Actually, consider yourself crossed off everything else, too.

Ready? Let’s go!

1.When arriving at the home where you will be a guest for five nights, do you bring a hostess gift?
A. Yes
B. Maybe
C. No




2. When bringing liquor as a hostess gift, is it appropriate to open and drink the gift?
A. Yes
B. Maybe
C. No


3. When it's time to eat, or clear the dinner table, is it okay to not help?
A. Yes
B. Maybe
C. No





4. Is it okay to leave dirty glasses and empty water bottles around the host’s home?
A. Yes
B. Maybe
C. No




5. Is it okay to appear in the kitchen, barefoot wearing a tee shirt and boxers, or, if you're a girl, panties?
A. Yes
B. Maybe
C. No








6. Is it okay to leave your bed unmade?
A. Yes
B. Maybe
C. No










7. Is it okay to go on your hostess's computer without permission?
A. Yes
B. Maybe
C. No


8. Is it okay to take your hostess's vehicle without permission?
A. Yes
B. Maybe
C. No





9. If you are granted permission to take your hostess's vehicle, is it okay to drive over the speed limit ?
A. Yes
B. Maybe
C. No






10. When driving your hostess’s car, is it okay NOT to pay tolls and simply plow through them?
A. Yes
B. Maybe
C. No








11. Is it okay to psychoanalyze your hostess and her guests in conversation?
A. Yes
B. Maybe
C. No














Question 12.
Is it okay to show up at the party with some of your friends?

A- Yes
B- Maybe
C- NO






Scoring:

Question 1:
If you answered Yes, score yourself 0 points
If you answered Maybe, score yourself 2 points
If you answered No, score yourself 10 points!


Question 2:
If you answered No, score yourself 0 points
If you answered Maybe, score yourself 2 points (If it’s understood that what you’ve brought is for the dinner, then it’s okay)
If you answered Yes, score yourself 10 points!

Question 3:
If you answered No, score yourself 0 points
If you answered Maybe, score yourself 2 points (Exceptions? Maybe a broken leg?)
If you answered Yes, score yourself 10 points!

Question 4:
If you answered No, score yourself 0 points
If you answered Maybe, score yourself 1 point (Provided it only happens once)
If you answered Yes, score yourself 10 points!

Question 5:
If you answered No, score yourself 0 points
If you answered Maybe, score yourself 2 points
If you answered Yes, score yourself 10 points!

Question 6:
If you answered No, score yourself 0 points
If you answered Maybe, score yourself 8 points (If there’s a cleaning person, you’re off the hook)
If you answered Yes, score yourself 10 points!

Question 7:
If you answered No, score yourself 0 points
If you answered Maybe, score yourself 2 points
If you answered Yes, score yourself 10 points!

Question 8:
If you answered No, score yourself 0 points
If you answered Maybe, score yourself 3 points
If you answered Yes, score yourself 10 points!

Question 9:
If you answered No, score yourself 0 points
If you answered Maybe, score yourself 3 points (if it’s within 5 to 8 miles max)
If you answered Yes, score yourself 10 points!

Question 10
If you answered No, score yourself 0 points
If you answered Maybe, score yourself 3 points (if it’s an emergency, call 911!)
If you answered Yes, score yourself 10 points!



Question 11
If you answered No, score yourself 0 points
If you answered Maybe, score yourself 2 points
If you answered Yes, score yourself 10 points!

Question 12
If you answered No score yourself 0 points
if you answered Maybe score yourself 3 points
if you answered Yes, score yourself 10 points!


Results:

If you scored 10 to 15 points, you're an OH!
If you scored 15 to 40 points, you're an OH MY!!
If you scored 40 to 60 or more points, you're an OH MY GOD!