“Sorry I Couldn’t Make It Tonight. I Had to Take My Mom to the Hospital!”

That line was used on a friend of mine this past Tuesday evening by a “solid eight” girl with whom he was supposed to have dinner.  Yes, it’s tragic that this young lady stood him up, but with a line like that, she is definitely a perfect ten when it comes to having a great excuse!  That is so much better than feigning an illness and I felt it needed to be shared.

Moving on, I have to say that it is so hot here in Virginia Beach that I’m ready to trade in my new Tod’s for a pair of hiking boots and my suitcases for a hiking bag and head to Antarctica because at least it’s cold there!  I’ll probably just end up moving into my freezer for the next 72 hours before I head to Charlottesville, where the high yesterday was 98, though I’m told it felt like 103.  And Wednesday, I was in New York for an interview and it was deathly hot out!

I arrived Tuesday night and went straight to dinner with Andrew after dropping my off my bags.  It didn’t seem that hot out so I decided to walk from the Upper East Side over toward the West Side through Central Park, which is one of my favorite things to do.  I just love being in the park and will find any excuse to spend time there.  By the time I hit the West Side, my shirt was untucked and I felt like Justin on a Thursday night after a few drinks with my shirt unbuttoned nearly all the way; all I was missing were a cigar and one of his fedoras!  I quickly tucked my shirt back in and buttoned-up and headed over to meet Andrew at Boulud Sud.  More importantly that actually getting a reservation there, I beat Andrew!  This never happens because he is always on time so I was very excited, especially since he only lives like two blocks away.

Dinner blew me away!  It’s a mediteranian-inspired restaurant so it has a very light and relaxing feel about it to begin with; the sea-foam greenish color on the wall and the light woods and white marble just kind of made me feel like I was on the Med instantly; the Birkins and the high-pitched voices of their formally-dressed totterers, however, reminded me that we were not on the island of Crete, but instead the island of Manhattan!  To start, Andrew and i split this plate of imported, Spanish ham with olives and grilled bread, which I was great, aside from those olives being a bit too spicy for me.  The bread they served was phenomenal; they were all made fresh and the focaccia with olives on it was just killer in my opinion!  For a main course, Andrew tried the Carpetto Orecchiette, which is a pasta dish that he certainly seemed to enjoy, while I had the Lamb Shoulder Cleopatra, which just would have blown my socks off had I been wearing any!  The sweet potatoes and the sweet potato purée, along with the onions and apricots were so delicious and that lamb shoulder was simply incredible.  In fact, I didn’t even need a knife to cut it now that I think about it.  Plus, when it arrived, the waiters covered it with a white-ceramic tagine instead of a silver cover, which I thought was kind of neat while still keeping with the whole Mediterranean feel of the restaurant (remember, North Africa is on the Med as well).  As an added bonus, I had a glass of the Terre Nere 2009 Etna Rosso, which was made with grapes grown on Mount Etna, which I visited in March.  The volcanic soil in which the grapes are grown give the wine this very smooth and uncomplicated taste to it that didn’t try to overpower the lamb, so I was very satisfied and I’m definitely buying a few bottles (I’ve recently decided to take up wine as a hobby of mine).

Dessert, which in my opinion is the only part of the meal that really matters, was a bit of a problem.  Unlike Café Boulud in Palm Beach where that warm upside down chocolate soufflé has never let me down, Andrew and i failed to find anything that really jumped out at us.  So instead, we decided we would go next door to Daniel Boulud’s new Épicerie Boulud to get dessert because it was basically designed to compete with Thomas Keller’s Bouchon Bakery a few blocks away in the TimeWarner Center, but when we got there at just after 21h0, it was already closed!  One would expect that a place like that across the street from Lincoln Center would be open until at least 23h0, if not later on weekends!  For some horribly stupid reason, however, it’s only open until 20h0.  Instead, we went to our favorite standby, Grom.  This was my first visit to Grom since I was in Siena with mother so y’all can imagine my sticker shock when I realized that a small at Grom has gone up a dollar to $5.25 since last summer!  That didn’t stop me from a cup of melone and fiondente!

After walking around for a bit while we ate our Grom, Andrew took me to see his family’s new apartment on the West Side, which was beautiful, even if it lacked most of its furniture!  I must say that I’m quite jealous of Andrew’s brother William because while mother insisted that my KitchenAid be stainless steel so that it would match all the other appliances in the house, William’s is lime green!  Oh I would kill for that color and since I have to schlep my mixer to Florida in the winter to bake, I might just ask my Jewish Mr. Grinch for a lime green mixer to leave there this Hanukkah.  It was also great getting to see Andrew’s mother, who I love because she’s so nice.  As an added bonus, I got to see photos of Andrew from his youth, which was hysterical!

Wednesday morning saw me rising with the sun so I could go for a walk with “Aunt Faye” (I was also staying with her for the night), which was nice aside from the deathly heat that hit before 9h0!  I then attempted a five-mile run, but had to stop after only three miles because it was simply too hot to continue.  On my way back to her apartment, I stopped at E.A.T. to get some Health Loaf bread as well as the best hamburger buns on earth; they’re brioche hamburger buns and they just put Peperidge Farm to shame.  I also got little brioche rolls, which I use when I make sliders.  While there, Eli himself showed up, which was kind of neat.

By the time my interview finished up around Noon, it was so hot that by the time I reached Barney’s, fourteen blocks from where I had my interview, it was clear that I needed more than a pair of dark jeans!  In fact, (and I know this is disgusting/embarrassing, but we’ll get through it together) I was in such desperate need of a new shirt that I couldn’t even bring myself to take off my blazer since I could only imagine how my shirt looked!  The only problem was that I didn’t plan on needing a new shirt so I had to buy one (so tragic)!  Instead of going to Ralph Lipchitz as usual, I decided to check out that J. Crew on 79th and Madison since it carries a nicer selection than the normal J. Crew line.  I ended up with a shirt that I wouldn’t normally consider to be “my style,” but I’ve decided that I need to shake things up a bit more so why not!  While I was there, though, I overheard this clearly lost father and his fourteen-year-old son telling the salesman that the “tween” needed a tuxedo for one of his friend’s fourteenth birthday party!  Now I know that New York kids, especially New York Prep School kids do things differently from the rest of the world, but you have got to be effing kidding me if you think it’s appropriate for a fourteen-year-old to be having a black tie birthday party!  At that age, it sounds kind of stuffy and boring, though because of its intrigue and fascination, EVERYONE will obviously being attending, so maybe that kid’s on to something.  While I owned a tux of my own at that age, it was only because I had worn it to my Bar Mitzvah party and not because I needed it for a classmate’s fourteenth birthday!

After changing and making myself look like a human being again, I headed down to Union Square to meet Aunt Faye at the Union Square Greenmarket, which takes places every Monday, Wednesday Friday, and Saturday, so I could help her get ready for the dinner she was preparing that evening.  In between getting the seafood and the snow peas, she finished catching me up on what was new in her life.  The Greenmarket is another one of those things I absolutely love because you can get the freshest food that was sometimes picked just the day earlier and have it in your kitchen while its still at its peak.  Plus, everything is so much cheaper than going to a grocery store, so it makes economical sense to go there as well!

After we got back to her apartment, it was time to leave and just as quickly as a I came, I bid farewell to my beloved New York, but not for long since I’ll be back in four short weeks.

Meanwhile, Justin has had some super diva trouble real estate drama down in very much so Hotlando this summer ending with him moving after only being in his apartment for about a week.  He was originally renting a room in an apartment for the summer that he was going to be sharing with some random Canadian woman, but she turned out to be an actual alcoholic (not just a very social drinker) who was also kind of crazy and so he moved into a house of his very own not far from Rollins and so he’ll be living there until he finishes up the Fall semester.  His job at the law offices of Jew, Jew and Jew seems to be going well as he’s loving foreclosing on people who bought houses they couldn’t afford.  Personally, I don’t know why people thought Orlando was the only place they could go for a vacation, but they did.  Personally, I would have picked Cap Ferrat.

In addition to interning with Oscar-winning producer Scott Rudin, Andrew has managed to attend the hottest events (literally) thus far this summer in New York.  Last weekend, he went with Nathaniel and Caroline to the Veuve Cliquot Polo Classic on Governor’s Island and to say that I am jealous is a huge understatement!  The three of them also went to see the Gotham Girls Roller Derby, which is not an event I see Andrew voluntarily attending.  When I asked him about it, most of the conversation was spent discussing the movie Whip It, which is about the “sport” that is roller derby.  Plus, he was supposed to spend Thursday night in the park (in actual death heat) at the Black Eyed Peas and Friends Concert 4 NYC to Benefit Robin Hood, but I read that it was canceled due to “inclement weather,” which is a shame because I saw them setting up for it on the Great Lawn while I was walking with Aunt Faye and it looked like it was going to be amazing!

Finally, I’d like to wish an early Happy Twenty-First Birthday to Grace!  She hits the legal drinking age in America on Saturday and I’m so excited, partly because I’ve managed to not tell her what I bought her since March!  Sadly, I’ll be heading to Charlottesville on Saturday, so instead, we’re celebrating tonight.  Grace has also decided to be a good humanitarian (I guess that’s what you call it) and rescued a bird.  I know it was done with the best of intentions, but y’all know that bird must have gone insane when it saw Beatrice, Grace’s stuffed rooster, just standing there in her living room, motionless.  Anyway, I’m off because I have to go bake her birthday cake and pack so until next time…

-JD

How Is This Italy? The People In Bologna Are So Friendly!

First of all, I’ve been busy, hence I’ve been a bit M.I.A. for the past few weeks.  Two Fridays ago, however, I visited Bologna on what was basically a last resort option because my original plan to see Lisa failed because airlines in Europe aren’t that great.  Many of them only fly to a destination one day and then return the next day because they have so many more routes than they have planes.  So, I spent the first day of my very relaxing four-day Easter Weekend enjoying myself in the city where Maserati is based.

Almost everyone else in the group went down south for the weekend to Naples, Pompeii, Sorrento, and Capri.  Don’t get me wrong, I’m dying to see all four cities, but I’d like to spend more time really exploring the places and not just going, seeing them for just a few hours and then leaving.  Plus, which such a large group of people, it’s hard for everyone to do what he/she wants.  Also, the only city in Italy that is actually going somewhere is Venice, and I’ve seen it twice so it’s not as if my life will end if I don’t go back.  Though, if Harry’s Bar sinks into the Laguna Veneta, I may have a mental breakdown because that is still one of the best meals I’ve ever had and I will defend that bill until the day I die.

So Bologna is a very short high-speed train ride away from Florence on the way to Milan.  Now, partly because I’m crazy, but also partly because I have better things on which to spend my money, I just walked the whole day in Bologna (my feet still probably hate me), which is very doable.  However, next time, I’ll probably at least take a taxi to the center of the city and save myself the somewhat long walk there from the station, which is a major TrenItalia transfer point.

The city boasts a Modern Art Museum, cleverly called MAMbo, which is on the way to the center of the city when coming from the station.  Yes, I did in fact spend the entire time walking there thinking about the “Mambo Number Five” song.  As for the museum, I think they need to change their name, because it was really post-modern art, which I don’t understand.  I love modern art, but a video about how graffiti is beautiful seems like a bit of a stretch to me.  There was a temporary exhibit of the works of Matthew Day Jackson, which unfortunately ended on the first of May, but was very interesting; not so much the art itself, but rather Jackson’s story.  He disappeared in 2006 mysteriously and his van was discovered in Queens.  He has yet to be found, but was just completing a trip that took him to all of the forty-eight continental States so he could photograph each one for a piece he did.  The result was kind of amazing.  A lot of the show dealt with death and bones, which for some reason, I found to be highly entertaining that day (must have had something to do with the fact that I was reading Tina Fey’s wonderful autobiography, “Bossypants,” at the time).

I tried to have lunch in the museum’s café, but because this is Italy, it wasn’t open, despite having a sign that indicated that it should be open when I showed up.  From there, I headed off in search of the Stregate Tea Shop, which I read was a must visit place.  It’s one this little pedestrian street called Via Porta Nova, which is lined with little boutiques, bars and cafés.  When I finally arrived, I learned that Bologna is a city that takes its break for lunch very seriously!  All of the stores were closed for three hours, so I figured I guess it was time to get lunch too since I had about an hour to kill until the tea shop reopened.

Originally, I had planned to lunch at Drogheria della Rosa, but it was much too far from where I was so I scrapped that plan and instead just wandered into this little place called Cafè Midi Du.  Yes, I had pasta with bolognese sauce, and yes, it was delicious, as is nearly all Italian food.  But my titillating bowl of pasta was not the highlight of the meal.  For dessert, I saw from my table outside this white, dome-shaped dessert which I was told was a cake soaked in lemon and then covered in ricotta.  It was so heavenly and I was so surprised by the fragrance of the lemon.

By the time I finished lunch, Stregate had reopened.  Inside was a wall of large tins, each containing tea leaves with some of the most amazing aromas.  I purchased four, fifty-gram bags as gifts: Chocolate and Orange, Earl Grey, Tè degli Gnomi (I honestly don’t know what’s in it, it just smelled good), and Chocolate Soufflé for me.

From there, I headed to Piazza Maggiore, where I went inside the main Duomo, which had the most ornate private family chapels.  They were preparing for Easter Sunday services and so the choir was chanting away, which made the imposing space quite intimate.  Back outside in the Piazza, I walked a block over to Via Drapperie and went to visit Antica Aguzzeria del Cavallo.  This store is known throughout the city (and according to The New York Times) as being one of the best places to buy knives in all of Italy, so of course I had to visit (and if the Times blesses it, you know it must be good.  That said, they picked a horrible location for their spectacular headquarters; I love that façade).  Here is my problem with the place: while they have every type knife imaginable, the knives behind these wooden doors that have antique/old fashioned-looking knives on them and so I thought that what you see on the doors is what you can buy.  It’s moments like these where I like to remind people that I was blonde until the age of three when my hair just suddenly turned brunette.

My retardation aside, I bought a peeler to replace disgusting and rusty one with which Mother sent me off to school last semester despite having replaced it with a new one about five years ago.  I also purchased a cake spatula, which I didn’t need since I have one already, but just like this trip, it was a spur of the moment decision.  The two sales ladies were very sweet and accepting of my elementary Italian, instead of just telling me they speak English, which is what most Italians do.

Just a little ways away from the knife store was the bakery Paolo Atti e Figli.  I honestly don’t know why I went there because I was still full from lunch, but I did and ended up buying little treats for the train-ride back to Siena.  The highlight of my day, however, came while i was was making my way back to the Piazza Maggiore.

There, in red lettering that looks very similar to Times New Roman, were the words EATALY.  To say I screamed louder than a woman having a baby naturally may have been an understatement and I would like to take this time now to sincerely apologize to everyone in the vicinity of me at that time.  Despite hearing everything from horrible reviews to reviews such as “if you don’t go, you’re a moron,” I have yet to visit the new EATALY that opened last fall in New York.  I could have gone to the Turino-based restaurant/upscale grocery store’s Flatiorn food hall/multiple restaurant space that Croc-loving Mario Batali helped import, but I figured that I’d rather spend my final meal in America until May eating something other than Italian.  Besides, I’ll get there eventually.

Anyway, so I went in and it was interesting because it was attached to a Libreire Coop, which is kind of a like an Italian Barns & Noble.  Therefore, i sort of assumed that the Eataly was almost like a B&N Café, but oh how I was wrong.  There is a small café where you can purchase sandwiches, snacks, drinks, and I believe meats of some sort (I didn’t pay that much attention to it), but if you go up to the second floor, there is so much more.  There are pastas, sauces, salts, olive oils, an assortment of eco-friendly kitchen tools, and a large meat/seafood/pasta/cheese area that looked as if you can also order something to eat there.  The meats looked all done up in that case and they just looks a bit prissy, but I guess if you’re buying your filets in a bookstore, you’d expect them to look all done up.  On the third floor were a few more Eataly products and a wine bar in a sky-lit room that is probably the most relaxing place on a sunny day in the winter with a good glass of Brunello.  I bought a reusable grocery bag and a jar of pomodoro sauce (that was outrageously priced, but I wanted to try it and you only live once).

After leaving the very unique space, I went to see the Libreria Nanni, which is a very famous bookstore in Bologna, just to see what all the fuss was about.  It was in the beautiful space that had these cavernous ceilings and a large covered walkway out in front with books shelves lining both sides.  It was very much a step back in time and I can only assume that this is what bookstores looked like before B&N, Border’s, WaldenBooks, and eventually Amazon.

Not too far from the Libreria Nanni was trouble.  Bologna has a luxury “mall” around the Piazza Cavour.  I swear, I must have a disease because when I see those stores, my entire mind seems to change.  It’s as if my American Express card and my brain become one and all I think is “don’t look at the price, just think of how many points you can get with this and then you’ll be that much closer to an upgrade with points.”  I think it runs in the family.  I’m not a shopaholic at all (I leave that to another member of my family), I just have a tendency to always end up going gaga over things like Prada (yes, that was meant to rhyme).  My biggest culprits are Ralph Lauren, Tod’s, Vilebrequin (this is such a  snobby thing to say, but I only wear Vilebrequin bathing suits), and of course, Hermès.  Hermès is like a drug for me; it’s my cocaine, but unlike the other powdered-sugar, which can have horrible side effects including death, Hermès’s only negative effect is that it greatly reduces the amount of money I have in my bank account.

Speaking of my orange box love affair, I went in their Bolgona store just to look (as if I needed anything else after draining my bank account at their Paris flagship) and while I was in there, the most bizarre experience of my life took place.  A monk walked into the store and of course I did a double take because I thought they’re supposed to give up all of their worldly possessions and last I checked, Hermès was probably at the top of that list.  Then I assumed that maybe he didn’t know what Hermès was and he was trying to get money from them, but then I saw all of the sales ladies hug him and kiss him on the cheeks.  After the very friendly banter between what seemed like good friends, the monk began to pray right there next to the navy blue crocodile baby Kelly bag with gold hardware that had a price tag that is more than my UVa tuition (I’m instate)!  I initially assumed he was praying for someone related to one of the salesladies, but then I heard him say the word Hermès and quickly connected the dots.  This monk, who looked a lot like Cardinal Egan, was actually blessing the store!  It has to go down as one of the most unusual experiences of my entire life.

After my religious experience in the land of orange, I strolled leisurely around the other stores in the “mall” before realizing that it was actually time to start heading back to the station.  On my way, I stopped at this chocolate store/gelateria called Venchi.  It was very Upper East Side with the ornate light fixtures, the delicate chocolates and the prices.  The interior immediately made Grom look so Downtown or West Side with its glamour and opulence so of course I had to stop in and try some of the gelato, which was well worth the price (which was actually the same as Grom’s, so it wasn’t TOO bad)!

I spent the entire trip back to Siena trying to think of why I loved Bologna so much and it finally dawned on me that it wasn’t so much the city itself, which don’t get me wrong is so nice and so easy to navigate, but instead the people.  They were so friendly, so helpful and it was something I hadn’t expected at all because let’s be honest, Italians aren’t exact known for their friendliness.  One of the girls on my program today told me that her house mother said that the Romans and the Bolognans were the nicest people in all of Italy, and while it’s been nearly four years since I was last in Rome (I’ll be there in two weeks though), I can definitely say that her house mother was right about the people from Bologna.  I don’t think I’ll ever forget how kind they were and I will definitely make it a point to return someday.

Also, as it is officially May, my favorite sports season has arrived once again!  It’s horse racing’s big month with the 137th Running of the Kentucky Derby less than a week away!  This is my Superbowl.  Plus, there’s no greater scent than that of booze mixed with cigar smoke mixed with money mixed with horse manure.  I have attended the Preakness every year of my life starting when Mother was five months pregnant with me so I blame her for any future gambling addiction I might have.  I’m probably more excited though about the fact that I’ll finally be able to legally buy my own Black Eyed Susan instead of drinking Mother’s after her two sips.

Alright y’all, I’ve got to write a six-eight page paper about how the film Nuovo Cinema Paradiso best reflects a post-modernist sensibility that is due Tuesday and I’ve done nothing but procrastinate so until next time…

-JD

PS: I told Grace about the whole “Hermès is my cocaine” paragraph; she’s not surprised at all.