Well this day was bound to come. After nearly six years, 170 posts and a series of highly amusing life experiences, this will be my last and final post on The Yapper.
A lot has changed in the two years since my most recent post: I have moved to Washington (the city on the swamp), managed to be gainfully employed for this whole period, I’ve met and become friends with some really entertaining people, and I actually bought that Vitamix! This whole time, I maintained that I would one day return to blogging, just as soon as my kitchen table arrived. Well, it’s been two years and the damn thing is still sitting in Florida.
There was another reason I stopped writing: I honestly didn’t have anything going on in my life. Moving to a new city with just a random assortment of people I’ve known from different parts of my life combined with a work environment in which the colleague nearest in age to me is in his early 40s didn’t make it easy to meet new people. So there were a LOT of boring weekends and week nights.
While yes, all good things must come to an end, it hasn’t been all bad. I started this exclusively as a joke; I never tried to make money from it. It was just for fun, and yet I somehow managed to get two paid, editorial internships in New York because of it. Plus, I have a permanent journal of my life in college so I can remember the good times again when my memory starts to fail in a few years.
I’d like to thank all ten of my regular readers for actually reading everything I have written over the years, and I’d like to dedicate this final post to my favorite reader, Grace’s mother Isabelle, a wonderful person whose vibrant life ended far too soon earlier this year. Isabelle left a solid 70% of the comments on my blog and I’ll forever be grateful to her for never-ending words of encouragement.
This morning, I saw a quote on Instagram that read “And suddenly you know…it’s time to start something new and trust the magic of beginnings.” I personally can’t wait to see where this new beginning takes me…
Welcome to April, quite possibly the most stressful month of the year. Amazingly, I got off to a good start this week and I’m somehow ahead of schedule for this week in terms of work. I’m convinced it’s because Katie Couric is back on TV in the morning. That’s not a joke either. In case y’all don’t know, Katie is co-hosting Good Morning America this week while Robin Roberts is on vacation and I have to say that it was such a breath of fresh air to have the bubbly personality back to wake me up! The last nearly ten months of Ann Curry has just been painful and I think we can all agree that she belongs back at Dateline because the stories reported on by Dateline work better with her facial expressions and over-caring.
Meanwhile, a few things have happened in the last few weeks, most notably being that Justin was told by the law firm he was working at that his services were no longer required, even though they just gave him a promotion of some sort. Naturally, nothing else has changed because he’s still continuing to remind me daily that I’m still in school and how he doesn’t have to take finals and write papers. The only difference is that now he can remind me all day long, when he’s not working on his tan, that is.
Moving up the East Coast to North Carolina, Andrew actually saw The Hunger Games, this year’s Twilight and while every girl I know who has seen it-Andrew is also the only guy I know who has seen it-loved every minute of the seemingly pointless movie, Andrew wasn’t impressed. He’s more excited about today’s re-release of Titanic, which is being brought back to the big screen in time for the 100th anniversary of the ocean liner’s sinking. Now I understand why it seems like such a big deal being in 3D and whatnot, but I just… I don’t really see the point in having to wear special glasses just so I can see a movie. Furthermore, I don’t get why I need to have things come off the screen. If I had wanted to be apart of the scene, I would have tried out for a role in the movie.
Yet, I’m apparently in the minority on this because every movie is now being made in 3D. The biggest reason for why I probably won’t be seeing Titanic, though, is not about it being in 3D, or even because I don’t think James Cameron needs any more money. Instead, it’s because I don’t know how many more times I can handle hearing that damn “My Heart Will Go On” being played. But, again, I’m in the minority on this one since the Caesar’s Palace Colosseum (which is actually how they spell it) is sold out night after night so people can see Céline Dion do this:
Justin is so excited about seeing Titanic (and hearing Céline belt it out) that he’s going tonight, because he has some free time. Maybe after, he’ll enjoy a nice piña colada, which I’m slightly embarrassed to say was the first alcoholic beverage Justin told me he ever ordered. Mine was a glass of white Spanish wine when I was in Lugano, Switzerland with Mother and my Aunt Wendy. I’m still mad at myself for never finding out the name of it. Also, I’m waiting for ABC to air the Titanic two-night miniseries written by Julian Fellowes that airs on the 14th and 15th of April.
Back here in Virginia, it’s been a busy couple of weeks and my mind has finally consented to the idea that we have to go back to school after kind of refusing for a while after Spring Break. Two weekends ago, however, work was swept aside for something far more important. It started Friday night when I went with my dear friend and hall mate, Lindsay, to try the Whiskey Jar on the Downtown Mall. Now I have been trying to get into the Whiskey Jar for weeks because it just looks like a cool place, but it is always overflowing with people. Yet that night, the stars were aligned and even though we were seated up against a hideous concrete retaining wall, at least we were seated outside on a perfectly gorgeous evening. The location did get a bit better once I realized that the couple at the table behind Lindsay was on that beyond awkward first date based on the nervous conversation that was taking place. And yes, that means I was eavesdropping the entire time. I know it’s wrong, but I can’t help it; I just love knowing other peoples’s business.
Now, as for the food, it was Southern food euphoria. We started with the hush puppies & sweet potato biscuits, which were served with apple & sorghum butters. Now I’m not a huge biscuit eater, but the sweet potato gave it this flavor that made it so welcoming and when combined with that apple butter, it makes one wonder why people would rather spend their money on cheap liquor when they could be eating these little bundles of joy! The hush puppies, equally scrumptious (yes, I feel it’s time to bring that word back), took me right back to when I went to summer camp in North Carolina and they would take us to Moorhead City for a weekend and the Sanitary Restaurant, where they would take us for dinner the first night, gave us these amazing hush puppies and I rarely if ever see them anywhere so it was so a real treat to have them. We also split the fried quail & homemade coleslaw because it was so nice outside that it felt like it was time to start eating summer foods and I feel that coleslaw is one of those ultimate summer foods on the beach or by the pool. The quail was crispy and just…one almost wants to join Dick Cheney on his next quail hunt to get some more.
For our entrees, Lindsay and I are like-minded eaters who both chose the ultimate Southern food, fried chicken. Aside from being something that will kill you if you eat it too often, in all honesty, the only eatable fried chicken comes from the South. It doesn’t matter if you take a black, Southern grandmother up North, the fried chicken won’t taste the way it does in the South. It was so crispy on the outside, tender on the inside; melt in your mouth, can you taste the butter, my mouth is watering right now at the very thought of them, and the accompanying collards, which are not and have never been a staple of my diet, were like eating healthy candy. Initially, I told Lindsay that I was definitely going to have some leftovers to take home because the portion was so good, but by the time the waiter cleared our plates, very little remained aside from the chicken bones, which I don’t recommend eating. The next time I go back, I’m trying the side of macaroni & cheese I didn’t see this first visit. Also, it was surprisingly inexpensive; the fried chicken was only $12, so it’s very college budget-friendly, even though I know some people who would argue that it’s better to spend that $12 on three beers at the Corner instead. I don’t eat with them.
From an affordable dinner on Friday night, Saturday night was a little different. That night was the 49th annual Restoration Ball, an event Grace and I have been talking about attending together for three years. The black tie ball raises money for the restoration of the Rotunda here at UVa. The night, regardless of the amount of fun we had, was not without its problems. First of all, it didn’t just drizzle as expected. Oh no, it poured the way it pours in a rain forest! Did I mention this took place under a tent? Also, while Grace and I actually tried to look good, some people thought this was a perfectly good time to dust off the old prom dresses, which was not a good idea! To make things worse, those of us over the age of 21 were treated to sparkling wine, but it was inside a nearby building that we had to run to in the downpour, and they ran out very early in the evening!
But it was a lot of fun, especially the part where they made us perform the Virginia reel, which Grace claims we learned how to do in the Third Grade. Do y’all remember what you learned in the Third Grade because I sure as hell don’t! Thankfully, I wasn’t the only person who didn’t know it because we got a crash course before beginning. After what was probably the highlight of the night, Grace decided it was time for us to move on, and by move on, I mean sprint to the Corner to bars before going back to her apartment to order copious amounts of borderline uneatable food I would never normally eat because I don’t want to die at 30 and eat it while watching Eat Pray Love, the movie that made me decide to study abroad in Italy (not much has changed; that bowl of pasta still looks so happy!). It was a truly memorable night and I’m so glad Grace, who looked radiant in her vintage Badgley Mischka gown, and I finally got to go!
Flash-forward five days to last Friday and I did something I never thought I’d do, I went to a jazz concert at a fraternity house. Lindsay schlepped me over to the Delta Upsilon fraternity house, which is most civilized one I’ve been in because it’s also the newest house at UVa. My other experiences at fraternity houses here at UVa have seen me standing in puddles of alcohol, being dragged by Grace halfway down a flight of stairs to a basement filled with “water” that I refused to get near (I didn’t want to risk having to get my legs amputated), painfully loud music, and how could I ever forget the stench of cheap beer mixed with grain alcohol and throw-up. This was about as far from any of that as one can imagine, save for the beer and grain alcohol, well it was bourbon.
Now this place was actually clean, no doubt thanks to pledges who did such a lovely job of wiping up the floors the second someone spilled something; if any of you would like to make extra money, I’d pay for my apartment to be cleaned because I despise doing it. Unfortunately, in what must be a cost-cutting measure to pay for this beautiful frat house, the DU men served up Keystone Light Beer. Y’all, I thought it couldn’t get worse than Fratty Natty. Oh no, it turns out I was wrong. Imagine drinking water that’s been infused with hops; it’s like cucumber water, only absolutely revolting! Now I know why people carry flasks with them!
Anyway, the next day, Miss Lindsay and I met at the very civilized hour of 11 to head over to the Pigeon Hole to partake in the best meal ever invented, brunch. Who doesn’t love brunching? It’s not just the food that makes brunch the perfect meal because when one brunches, it’s always done with friends/relatives if we must and it’s the only time when one is no longer in college for it to be perfectly acceptable to drink before noon without being labeled an alcoholic. Granted, these alcoholic beverages are limited to either a mimosa or a bloody mary, but you can’t really go wrong with either.
Unfortunately, most of my friends look down on things like brunch. Andrew needs to do the three meals a day in order to “survive;” Justin is now on some nut workout that means he is eating five small meals and nothing on a brunch menu is designed for that; and Grace sleeps until well after brunch time. Lindsay is a diamond in this rough of boring so she and I decided that since we could have a mimosa whenever, we’d go for the less conventional “cranmosa,” which is champagne with cranberry juice, and they were quite good, if I may say so myself. Lindsay went all out Southern for her selection of the biscuits & red eye gravy, accompanied with lots of hash browns. I stayed with the more conventional French toast option, which came with sliced apples that were glazed in cinnamon and just so yummy! I also got hash browns, but didn’t pay much attention to them.
Following brunch, we decided that since it was such a beautiful day, we would take our homework outside and do the cliché UVa student studying on the lawn thing. However, too many other people beat us to the lawn so we ditched that plan and headed to the fine arts school’s courtyard. On the way, we noticed that the UVa club rugby team was playing UNC and of course we got distracted and watched. Fortunately, I had my camera with me; this is the only photo I liked:
After about an hour of watching rugby, a sport neither of us understands (don’t even get me started on the location of hands), it started to rain and we quickly took shelter in the fine arts school’s library and actually got work done before heading to a wine and cheese tasting at Feast, the amazing specialty foods store not far from grounds. I absolutely love their charcuterie department because they have such a great variety of local and out of the ordinary meats from which to choose. Plus, they sell something called chocolate goat cheese, which I have yet to try but plan to very soon.
All of this talk about food is the perfect segway for me to mention an article I read in the April 2nd issue of New York about my generation’s desire to actually care about food. In case y’all haven’t noticed, I live for food. I decided to start this blog after watching movie about Julia Child (food), I picked my study abroad country after seeing a bowl of pasta, I have spent the equivalent of a paycheck on a meal more than ten times in the last year without any remorse, and to be perfectly honest, I just love eating.
Unfortunately, the majority of my generation feels that it is perfectly acceptable to eat what can only be described as garbage; y’all might know them as frozen and other assorted pre-packaged foods. They would rather spend their money going out to get drunk, sometimes to the point that they blackout. Now I’m not saying that blacking out is a bad thing (on the contrary, as a shareholder of Anheuser-Busch InBev, the more you drink, the better the profit they’ll have for the next quarter, which means the more the street will like the stock, therefore meaning that the stock price will climb and I’ll make money off of your weekend you can’t remember), I just wish that there were more food lovers in my life, not that I’m saying I’m a foodie in any way whatsoever.
I actually have serious issues with people who feel the incessant need to photograph everything they eat in order to share the meal with others as opposed to enjoying it in the moment. At the same time, if one is too busy photographing the food, think of all the things being missed during this time: the incredible aroma that is rising off the plate and into the camera instead of the nostrils or just the overall atmosphere of the restaurant itself; many people don’t realize it, but the atmosphere of a restaurant does have an impact on the overall dining experience. Most of all, if you’re spending all your time photographing your food, then you could be missing out on the couple breaking up at the table just inches from yours at the Serafina on 61st between Park & Madison; and then she leaves and he’s sitting there for what seems like an eternity before realizing that she has his wallet! That whole mini-drama didn’t necessarily make the food taste any better, but it made the meal unforgettable. Y’all need to remember that the consumption of any meal, whether it is eating a bagel while walking to class or the tasting menu at Jean-Georges, is an experience that should be worth remembering. That’s all.
Yes, the time has come for Justin to bid adieu to his formidable college days (overachieving nut) and follow Ben Braddock into the real world of tanning by the pool, shtupping older women and spending the next year avoiding the inevitable question of, “So, what are you going to do now that you’ve graduated college?” I’m so glad I get an extra semester before I have to answer that question.
Yes, on Wednesday, our dear Justin walked out of the last final of his undergraduate career. I’ve been dreading thought of Justin graduating, not because of the the fact that it means my time in college is also nearing its final days, but because I really just don’t know what to get Justin as a graduation present. Thankfully, he knows this and is giving me an extension. That said, I’m so proud of little Justin, even if the first thing I thought of him when we met was, “Oh Christ, it’s the over-achiever! Well, at least I know who I can blame the bad grade curve on.”
Back then in the Fall of 2008, Justin would spend his Saturday nights in his dorm room writing papers that weren’t due for weeks while his equally “unique” roommate, Travis, a certifiably insane young man from Central Florida who hated both of us, did whatever people who look and talk like hamsters do. Thankfully, Justin managed to get out and leave the paper writing for the night before/morning it was due like every other college student. I’ll have more on celebrating the end of Justin’s undergraduate education next week as I will be staying with him at Camp Justin for the night on Saturday as I make my way to Palm Beach for Winter Break!
Y’all, I’ve been going to Florida my entire life and I have never been so excited to see a palm tree in my entire life! It has been a painful semester that has left my entire body tired and stressed. Worse is that as I’m writing this, I still have a final to write and then another to take before the Audi and I get to board the Auto Train for sunshine and happiness! Yes, that’s right, I was so impressed by my experience back in January that I’m taking the Auto Train again, and there is no need for any old people jokes because my BlackBerry did that for me already! The BlackBerry Travel App automatically scans your email to find upcoming trips and then keeps a record of them, but it seems to lack the capacity to realize that some people still take the train to get places because it asked if I needed a hotel reservation, a car reservation and a plane reservation for my trip on Friday. And here I thought Siri was the only thing that could judge me.
Meanwhile, I’ve always found people who read fashion blogs to be a bit special, largely because I dated someone who went on to start a fashion blog that’s become something rather successful. Regardless, I think they’re a bit weird. Unfortunately, like my thoughts on Tweetie Bird (we celebrate our one-year anniversary together on the 17th), there has to be a reversal of that mentality now that I have stumbled upon two blogs: Unabashedly Prep and then Social Primer, the later of which was started by former Bottega Veneta VP, K. Cooper Ray. Through these two blogs, I have found all of these nobody preppy companies that have such nice things that are all made in America (because I think we’re all sick of overpaying for things that cost $5 to be made in China and would like to finally get our money’s worth for a change).
Turing from one F to another, I came across to an article in the New York Post, which I usually turn to just for Page Six (the only reason anyone reads it), this week about one of my favorite desserts: the Whoopie Pie, a unique item of food with which not enough people are familiar. Fortunately, the Post reports that the whoopie pie has become the it dessert of the season, thus making me a trend-setter as I have been acting as their unofficial spokesman since Summer 2010! If you don’t believe me, ask Justin, Andrew, Grace, Jean, Mother, or read the following email I sent while interning at New York after being sent out to a food truck while preparing for the Cheap Eats issue (if you click on it, it’ll get bigger):
I’m kind of in love with the whoopie pie, but what can I say, it’s a fun dessert that’s easy to eat while on the go or while writing a paper. Also in food tonight (what I have written below will actually make me worthy of entering a mental institution), I had read an article in the New York Times Magazine that offered a recipe for making ketchup from scratch, which is naturally something I would insist upon making. So over Thanksgiving break, I actually attempted this only to be met with utter failure. Instead of ketchup, I got a spicy, tomato… something. Determined to know what went wrong, I found the email address of the recipe’s author, former Saveur editor and James Beard Journalism Award-winning writer, Kelly Alexander, and sent her an email asking what I did wrong. Y’all, I received the nicest response ever:
What distressing news! I want to assure you that not only do I test my recipes completely before I submit them for publication, but that a trained recipe tester and developer did so as well. Which is not to say that problems don’t arise even with the most trustworthy of recipes, and I’m happy to help troubleshoot it because the result should be a rich, flavorful, and sweet-tangy ketchup. My guess is that the problem has to do with the ketchup not emulsifying properly. I wish there had been more space in the Times for a little more instruction on this.
Try this: Dissolve the cornstarch in *warm but not hot* water (the amount given in the recipe) for five minutes before combining with the other ingredients in the food processor (it will foam up, which is what you want it to do). Make sure you’re using real maple syrup–it’s much, much thicker than any low-fat, fat-free, or imitation version. And, finally, you could add a tablespoon of tomato paste to the ingredients if it’s still not thick enough. Please let me know what happens. I wish I could stand next to you in your kitchen, but failing that I’ll troubleshoot as long you like to make sure you get a good homemade ketchup.
Best wishes,
Kelly Alexander
I haven’t gotten around to redoing it yet, but I’m going to attempt it again tomorrow when I go home briefly because I have never received an email that sincere before in my life.
Finally tonight, before I somehow manage to write nine pages in three hours (which should be fun?), I came across this video that Tory Burch, this year’s fashion it designer, made in which she talks about her love for New York and unfortunately, the Times won’t let anyone embed it anywhere, so you’ll have to follow the link to it, but it’s a beautiful homage to the city and I thought y’all might like to see it. Okay, I’m off to spend the next three hours writing a three-part final that should be roughly nine pages in total by the time I’m finished. I swear, these professors should be paying us because these finals make people do weird things. Hell, I told Grace I knew how to solve the problems in Washington! Alas, until next time from Home Sweet Palm Beach…
-JD
PS: This photo was taken from my second, and last “Lighting of the Lawn,” the which is just so sad because I had so much fun with my friend Lindsay. I especially enjoyed watching the most unusual group of young ladies rolling across the terrace in front of the Rotunda’s entrance while student choirs were singing on the steps just in front of them!
Just as the New York Times did earlier this year while I was in Italy, I decided that this year, I was finally going to go where I have never been before: Brooklyn. You see, when I think of Brooklyn, I think of hipsters from Williamsburg with their plaid shirts, Brooklyn designer jeans, Converse sneakers, and for some reason, Dr. Dre headphones. Part of this idea of Brooklyn stems from my internship last summer at New York, which I unexpectedly discovered has a large Brooklyn-based staff. Don’t get me wrong, I understand entirely why they’d want to live there: it’s cheaper, more square-footage for your money, you get somewhat of an escape from the extreme gentrification of Manhattan that has been underway over the last two decades, and you have this whole identity that is not connected to the island of Manhattan. Unfortunately, I love Manhattan; I’d rather go hungry just so I could afford the rent in a dump the size of my bathroom at home in Virginia Beach (which, for the record, just happened to fit in the space between the living room wall and my bedroom)! There’s nothing that can ever replace Central Park or that majestic scene of towers of steel and brick that shoot up into the sky. However, Andrew spent most of his life living in Brooklyn, and after years of making fun of the city he called home, I decided that it was finally time for me to swallow my pride and journey beneath the East River to see what’s so great about Brooklyn, but only if I had my official Brooklyn tour guide, Andrew to take me. Amazingly, he agreed.
Andrew grew up and attended school in Brooklyn Heights, which is where our tour primarily took place and we began on the Brooklyn Heights Promenade, a third-of-a-mile stretch that offers some of the most breathtaking views of lower Manhattan. However, it was about ten-thousand degrees out on the Promenade and so we didn’t stay very long.
Those two cranes in the distance in the righthand corner are the future Freedom Tower.
After leaving the Promenade, Andrew and I proceeded to see where he lived for most of his life before walking over to the home of his grandparents, which was so stunning; the mural in their dining room still takes my breath away just thinking about it! The rows and rows of townhouses are just incredible and thankfully, they’re all protected under the creation of the Brooklyn Heights Historic District in 1965. Our tour then took us to see where Andrew had attended school, which was rather interesting for me because I would always talk to him while he walked back from school, and I refused to believe he could be home in only ten minutes. I was wrong. Right across from his old school is the Brooklyn Historical Society, which Andrew took me to so I learn a bit more about the history of Brooklyn. I think it’s so wonderful that this one neighborhood in the largest borough of New York has so much pride and that it fights so hard to preserve its past for future generations.
We didn’t stay at the Historical Society for very long and ventured over to the area of Brooklyn known as Dumbo (Down Under the Manhattan Bridge Overpass) where we stopped for ice cream at the Brooklyn Ice Cream Factory before walking (and by walking, I mean power walking because leisurely strolling is just not Andrew’s style) around the Brooklyn Bridge Park, which is a park constructed atop of the no longer used piers that line Brooklyn’s waterfront.
Due to an obscenely long line, we skipped Grimaldi’s Pizzeria and headed further into Dumbo along Water Street. We went into Jacques Torres‘s chocolate factory (oh the temptation, and oh the restraint I showed) and the Almondine Bakery (more restraint, but only because they don’t take credit cards and I honestly had two dollars in my wallet because I didn’t want to pay a withdrawl fee). However, it was at the corner of Water Street and Main Street that Andrew and I had the most entertaining part of our day.
We made our way into the powerHouseArena bookshop, which was hosting the launch party for Paul Frank’s Academy of Awesomeness Mobile Tour. It turns out that powerHouse publishes the book, Take Ivy, which was recently reprinted in 2008 to the delight of preppies up and down the East Coast, and they had it on sale for $8.70, down from the $24.95 that Andrew paid, so of course I had to buy it! While there, we made our way up into the VIP area (because Andrew, who doesn’t drink, saw the bar and decided we needed to go there) where we ran into the self-annoited Queen and Queen of Brooklyn, Alex McCord (who I actually like) and Simon Van Kampen, with their children, John and François. Andrew asked why I wasn’t photographing them, but I didn’t want to because I said they had their kids with them, and while they are getting beat up when they’re older for being given those names, I feel that they’re too young at the moment to exploit. However, I will say that while Simon was nowhere to be seen unless there was a camera pointed at him, Alex actually looks like a great mother. So after I bought the book and we stalked Silex for a few minutes, we thought it was time to leave, but as we’re walking out the door, who shows up in a black Escalade? None other than permanent psych-ward resident Kelly Killoren Bensimon! Now, as avid watchers of guilty pleasure number one, Los Veramentes Housewives di Nueva York (yes, that is what I honestly call the show), then y’all know that “kellamity” Kelly and Silex don’t exactly like each other, so we had to go see this clashing of Bravo divas in person. Simon was really nowhere to be seen when Kelly and Alex had their civil,but clearly fake meeting.
Knowing that the island of Manhattan was momentarily free of crazies, Andrew and decided it was safe to return, and when you’re visiting Brooklyn for the first time, there’s only one way to return to the island and that’s via the Brooklyn Bridge. It’s here I should mention that I was breaking in a pair of shoes that day and amazingly only had two blisters, but oh did my feet hurt at this point! Also, I had broken my toe just a week earlier, so I probably shouldn’t have done as much walking as we did, and yet, we trekked onward. There’s no really way to describe walking on the Brooklyn Bridge for the first time; it was surreal and remarkable to stand on a structure that is so engrained in the American psyche and I found myself speechless for so much of the journey across. Andrew only gave me about ten seconds to stand and just take it all in, but in that time, I just looked at the beauty of the bridge, because it is beautiful, despite its roughness; underneath the surface there is a great story of triumph and success.
To sum things up about Brooklyn, I really can’t believe I waited so long to visit and while I know that there is so much more of this massive city that I have yet to discover, I think I’ve made a pretty good start. Also, I’d like to thank my tour guide for the day, Andrew, who gave up a weekend in the Hamptons to show me around! Until next time…
The Yapper 