XXX

I can't believe I am about to type this (sorry in advance, Mommy), but I am addicted to porn - FOOD PORN.

Wendy just earned herself shout-out #2 for the week because today at work she IMd me a link to Food Porn Daily.  Wendy scored herself some brownie points for this for two reasons:

1. She provided me with a much needed break from client meetings and cost analyses.
2. This site is truly amazing.  I can not stop clicking.  I want more.  I must have more.

Wendy does lose a point, however, because the drool induced by these pictures probably ruined my keyboard.  And because I may now have to join David Duchovny in porn rehab, which, frankly, I don't have the money to afford.

I am now super inspired to make equally mouthwatering dishes.  This may be the sexiest website I have ever encountered.

Same Blog, New Look

It's a new day and a new look for quinTESSential information.  Thought this look was a tad nicer and must thank Marzy for leading me to the wonderful world of new backgrounds.  For this, I must give her blog, VAB-FAB, a much deserved shout-out.  The look may change again and I may - wait for it - add a picture to the top, but for now, I'm lovin the makeover.

I Want Sum More

Sunday was a DAY.  In fact, it was such a day, that it has taken me this long to blog about it.  We started off a little groggy after spending a long night celebrating Greg's b-day, but I had made plans with Wendy and Raychel and did not want to back out.  Dave, on the other hand, was pretty adament about wanting to stay home and sleep; however, I was excited about the plans, so I begged, pleaded, and bribed him with a sweet treat from Dylan's.  I eventually wore him down and we heded to Chinatown to meet the gals for dim sum at Jing Fong on Elizabeth Street.

We were a little late because we were seduced by the fish markets selling lobster and jumbo prawns for around 2 cents a pound.  I'm pretty sure I now know where I'm going to shop for my next big meal.  I plan to serve a ton of lobster to a group of friends to attain baller status..  Once we arrived, there was a crowd outside, but Wendy and Raychel had already grabbed our ticket (part of the dim sum process) so it was not long before they called our number and we boarded the escalator up to a humongous, crowded banquet hall.

Wendy won some major cool points at this stage of the meal because she just started grabbing the ladies pushing carts of food, busted out the Chinese, and selected our plates.  Dave was super impressed.  Later he and I had the following conversation:

D: Wendy's really cool and chill
T: I know
D: And she speaks Chinese - that's really cool
T: I know
D: I mean, did you see that?  She was speaking Chinese.
T: Yes, I was there

We ate so much, it was absurd:

• Pork shumai (2 orders)
• Shrimp ha gao
• Steamed pork buns
• Sweet pork in a pastry
• Shrimp in rice dough
• Spring rolls
• Eggplant stuffed with shrimp
• Crispy taro/vegetable puff
• Turnip cake (kinda like creamy hash browns)
• Fried shrimp wrapped in bacon
• Sponge cake
• Chicken feet.  Yes, you read right, I ate chicken feet.  We all did...well, not Raych - she had to draw the line somewhere.

I've tried a couple dim sum places, but this was the best yet.  Everything we tried was delicious, and crazy cheap.  Even though we ate so much that we waddled - not walked - out the door, the total came to a mere $13/person, including tax and tip.

Dim Sum Cart

You may think that after all that, we would call it a day, but then you would be putting me in the amateur category, and that would be a mistake.  Wendy and Raychel went on their merry way, and Dave and I continued our food journey in Little Italy.  For someone who loves Italian food as much as David Smiles, I could not believe he had never been in this 'hood.  He was like a kid in a candy store.  (Actually, about an hour later, he really was a kid in a candy store when we hit up Dylan's, as promised.)  He refused to leave Mulberry street before trying what was advertised to be the "best cannoli on the planet" (according to the restaurant's own banner) and a slice of pizza.  Both quite tasty, but the jury is still out on whether they were the best on planet Earth.

After that, we headed uptown to kill time at Dylan's before going to the movie theater next door (yes, we got popcorn).  We saw The Ghost Writer.  Why we didn't try to squeeze in one last Oscar nom before the awards is beyond me, but Dave was dying to see it, so I figured I'd give it a shot.  My review: not bad.  A little slow, but more realistic than a typical intrigue film.

After the movie, it was back to CT for Mr. Smiles, and I headed home to watch the Oscars and cook some steak fajitas.  Both the fajitas and Academy Awards were great, though I would have preffered a little more verbal bashing from exes and best director nominees James Cameron and Katherine Bigelow.  I called all but one of the big winners and am now seriously regretting not putting money on any of my picks.  Next year, I won't be so foolish.

All that running around made me remember what New York City is like during beautiful weather.  Oh how I've missed that.

Unanswered Questions: Gossip Girl Recap - 3/8 Episode

We're baaaaaack!  Finally, after a long absence, GG has returned!  I won't leave you in suspense any longer, let's jump right into the recap of what left me perplexed at the end of this episode:

• Why was Lily so afraid to tell Rufus what she did?  Was it ideal?  No, but it wasn't awful.  Her Mom was dying and he's the father of her kids and apparently a shamen who can cure the aforementioned dying mother.  She's allowed.
• If everyone could see the pill jacket lying on the ground in the coat check, couldn't they all see Nate and Serena doin the dirty?  Coat checks are simply not that large.
• Violette switched the jacket, not the dress - can someone explain why S had to walk out like a flasher, completely nude underneath a coat?
• Blair, what happened to that ruthless spirit we all love and adore?  That was your full attempt at cracking the Chuck Bass Mother Mystery?  That kinda sounds like the title of a Hardy Boys novel.
• Why is Serena staying at the Waldorf's?  Eleanor moves to Paris and lets a college dropout live in her penthouse when said dropout's family has an equally large penthouse?  I don't think so.
• Did anyone picture the moment when Damien picks up Serena?  "Hi.  I'm here to take you to a ball, and I'd like to give you a sweater that you should wear tonight."  That's awkward.  Anything other than flowers on a first date is highly suspicious.
• Who else had flashbacks to the Da Vinci Code as Jenny pieces together her drug smuggling plot via newspaper clippings?  At least she had better hair than Tom Hanks.
• If Serena hasn't seen Damien in, say, 3 years, why would she say "Text me your number"?  If you don't have his, what makes you think he'd have yours?  Oh, I forgot; you're that cool.
• Why does Dan tell Rufus to make his own waffles, like that's some sort of punishment?  Dan was making Eggos.  That's not difficult.
• Since when is there a jeweler/patient confidentiality agreement? 

It feels good to be back.

Bonkers for Bunco (and Auction House)

For Greg's 28th b-day, Susan decided to throw him a Bunco party at their new, gorgeous duplex on Saturday night.  My only exposure to bunco was during a marathon of The Real Housewives of Orange County.  In one episode, Tamra throws one helluva bunco party for the other housewives and it basically entailed rolling dice and drinking.  In that respect, this party was the same.  On the other hand, there was an absence of peroxide-loaded hair and silicone-loaded chests, so I guess we're not too similar.  I managed to master the rules of the game, though many other players focused more on the drinking aspect of the tournament...and somehow they still managed to beat me.

After a rousing game of bunco, we headed to Auction House on 89th and 2nd.  I've lived in the UES since I moved to NYC and had never even heard of this place, but I now plan to be a frequent visitor.  I have rarely seen so much red velvet in one place, but it made for a great atmosphere.  Imagine a typical LES bar.  Can you think of one?  Now, pick it up and drop it on a quiet uptown block.  That's Auction House.  Everyone there was very chill, the drinks were tasty, and the intimate feel was nice.  There were plenty of dark corners, making it perfect for a romantic evening if you're into that, but if not, it's great for groups, too.  So I am here to tell all you trendy, hipster doubters that the UES is more than fratty central (not that I mind fratty - in fact, it's pretty much my fave, but this just goes to show that we've got a little bit of everything up here).

The Hardy Bulb

I saw the following quote on my calendar yesterday (yes, I have a foodie calendar):

 

"My final, considered judgement is that the hardy bulb blesses and ennobles everything it touches - with the exception of ice cream and pie."
-Italian-American Author Angelo Pellegrini (1904-1991) on garlic

 

That got me thinking about one of my favorite appetizers: roasted garlic.  Cut a whole head of garlic in half, cover with olive oil and wrap in an aluminum foil pocket.  Then just let it sit in the sauna that is your oven for around 30 minutes and once it comes out it will be nice and spreadable.  I serve it on grilled pita wedges with a little goat cheese, but it's also good with some roasted red pepper or caramelized onions.

• Fact: Roman doctors gave garlic to invalids
• Fact: Egyptians used it in the embalming process (because those people didn't smell bad enough)
• Fact: Greeks believed it gave you crazy super-human strength
• Fact: If you and your date both eat garlicy foods, the bad breath factor is non-existent

This is Why I'm Hot

Last night, Raychel and I tried hot yoga.  I was not overly-psyched to go because I had previously only been to one yoga class, and the instructor almost kicked out Steph and I on grounds of excessive laughter during the "om" session.  Apparently they take this stuff serously, even at the decidedly non-granola environment of Crunch.  This time, I kept the giggles to a minimum and actually enjoyed myself. 

I was always told a lady doesn't sweat; she glistens.  If that's true, ladies should not take hot yoga because I was "glistening" buckets.  I didn't necessarily sweat much more than during a run or heavy cardio, but the fact that I hit those sweat levels when I'm just sitting in poses says a lot.  Because I worked up a sweat, I felt productive at the end of this class (unlike my first yoga experience). 

Hot yoga was the perfect way to unwind after a long work week...oh wait, yesterday was only Tuesday.  Nonetheless, it was a great de-stresser and I'm feeling very zen today.  Don't expect to see me running off to an ashram and speaking about chakras anytime soon, but if anyone wants to break out a yoga mat underneath about nine heat lamps, I may actually join you.