Ice Cream

Yesterday, I had an enormous chocolate ice cream cone. I'm still thinking about it. I got it at the Brooklyn Ice Cream Factory. My kids each had one, too. Elliot, my son, wore most of his. Helen, my daughter, couldn't finish hers. We swapped and she finished mine, which I'd almost finished. I took a few licks of hers and threw the rest away. It was one of the hardest things I've done in a long time, which says something either about how good the ice cream is or how lucky I've been of late. In any case, if you're in New York, this ice cream shop is just a water taxi away from the South Street Seaport. Go try some. You won't be disappointed.

A Last Word on The Skinny

Today, I gave a 10 minute talk about The Skinny at a fund raiser for the RI Holocaust Education and Resource Center. My mom chaired the event, and there were two other speakers, Sophie Freud and Mary Jane Begin. Curt Columbus, artistic director of Providence's Trinity Repertory Company MCd. The luncheon was lovely. The mood was festive. Curt Columbus was thoughtful and kind of wonderful, Both Prof. Freud and Ms. Begin spoke about their work in ways that were both moving and inspiring. Freud spoke about her experiences during World War 2 and quoted from a letter from a woman she'd became close to in Casablanca, a woman who later died at Auschwitz. Mary Jane Begin told the story about how her story of the childhood friendship of the characters from the Wind in the Willows came to be. Her tale included birth, death, divorce and love.

Then there was me.

Don't get me wrong, I think everyone enjoyed my remarks. I got a few good laughs. But I was definitely the confection. I did urge everyone in the room not to confuse dress size with life satisfaction. Re-reading The Skinny last night, I was struck by how Melissa and I really focused on how eating does not have a moral valence. We are not good if we eat salad or bad if we have ice cream. We just are what we are and we should try to enjoy our meals. I tried to get that across in what I said today. I also said, "If you want the cookie, have the cookie." Which felt especially appropriate since I'd just had a big bowl of ice cream but had skipped the salmon.

Truthfully, I was a little nervous because I'm used to talking about The Skinny with Melissa, and she wasn't there. And many, many people I know and love were there, and it's hard to talk about a "food lifestyle" book to a room full of people who fed you as a child. And with Sigmund Freud's granddaughter sitting there, no less! But it was fun. When all was said and done, it was a lot of fun and I was really glad to have been able to be there. And, hats of to my mom, because it was a downright terrific afternoon. I may not ever urge a group of people to eat more fruits and vegetables again, but it was a perfect last hurrah.

The Big Meal

Last night, David and I went to a Chinese Banquet cooked by my dear friend and former boss, Kian. The meal was sumptuous. A plate of cold appetizers included drunken chicken, preserved egg, shrimp in some kind of mustardy sauce. There was fried chicken (with the head, Melissa was there and loved that), conch cooked I don't know how, an amazing, almost fluffy (in a good way) mushroom soup with papaya, mustard greens with crab. All delicious. Then, there was the pork. Red cooked pork with steamed buns. It's Kian's specialty and when it arrived, everyone took a long deep breath and just gazed at it in loving admiration. We all knew, just by the look of it, that it would be fabulous, and it was. If I could've picked up the serving platter and licked it, I would have. Manners prevented me, but just barely.

The one problem I had with the banquet, honestly, was that it was a banquet. I mean, there were 10 courses. 10. They were wonderful, but no matter how moderate I was with my portions, and I was moderate (except with the pork), I couldn't help but get full. Really full. I did manage not to get unbutton-my-pants full, but, then again, I was wearing a dress. Which is to say, today I thought I'd only want to eat fruit, but I woke up starving, so I had a half of a bagel. And now, I'm unbutton-my-pants full. Still and all, it was worth it. To share in a spectacular meal generously and gorgeously prepared by a friend is an experience in life not to be missed. Thank you, Kian!

Getting It Done

I'm trying to get something done by Labor Day. It's a piece of work and I hate to be coy, but I'm not going to say what it is because if I do, it will disappear. I know that and you know that and you know and I know that by "that" I mean the logic of the falling sky, because that's the logic I'm living under. So I'm not going to say what the piece of work is, I'm only going to say that getting it done by Labor Day means I'm on a very aggressive work schedule. Am I the only one who's noticed that Labor Day is very early this year? It's actually on September first. Usually, I think only the Jewish High Holidays can be early or late and never on time, but I believe Labor Day was pretty late last year, maybe the eighth or something. For the record, I think Labor Day should fall on the third or fourth of the month. That would be on time. That would make me much less panicky about saying, "I want to be done by Labor Day." The panic set in this weekend, by the way. Before that, it just all seemed far away, but this week, everything starts. I have to go to Providence overnight for a book event where I'm going to talk about The Skinny and on Saturday we leave for vacation -- we'll be away for two weeks -- and then we'll come back and we'll blink a few times in the shiny hot August New York City air and then it will be September first. Please. Wish me luck.

The Friday Headline

So, I'm leaving my apartment this morning and I see on the front page of the New York Sun, a strange little conservative paper beating a drum furiously in this blue city, a headline above that amazing picture of Obama in front of 200,000 people in Germany. The headline read: McCain Camp Hopes for a Backlash.

What? So the McCain camp hopes that Americans will look at a picture of ferr-reners cheering for a American presidential nominee and say, "F-&%^@#$!-You!" And then vote for McCain because foreigners don't really care about him? And Americans don't either?

It's funny, because even though it's the summer, I feel like if Hillary Clinton were the presumptive nominee, we'd have more of a presidential race. She'd have galvanized the anti-Clinton forces once again and the two of them -- McCain and Clinton -- would be fighting for the tiny sliver of swing voters over 50 who would decide the race. As it is, Obama represents a sea-change, as Andrew Sullivan pointed out in The Atlantic almost a year ago, he's the first post-Vietnam candidate and representative of a whole new generation in politics. He's galvanizing. But, the problem is, with all this Obama-love the world over, he could get presumptuous and make a big mistake.

If he does, we're all in trouble, because I don't know about you, but I don't want the Straight Talk Express pulling up to the White House. I'll take cheering Europeans over loathing ones any and every day of the week.

Update: Cookie

I made the cookies. They are, without a doubt, gorgeous. Truly. Right out of the oven, they tasted pretty yummy, but just slightly dry. To me. My husband would say that's crazy. I baked a second batch this morning. My cousin C. told me they weren't even close to dry (I made sure to shorten the bake time). Still, 24 hours after I baked the first batch, the cookie I had tonight with my tea was definitely dry. I know these are meant to be eaten fresh, but just a day later, I feel like the cookie should have been better. All this to say, I probably won't make them again. But you never know. And I'm glad I made them once.

Note: I just asked my kids if they preferred these cookies or "the other ones" (those would be the cookies from the recipe posted below). In unison, they said, "the other ones." "You should make more of those," Helen told me. And so, I will!

Note 2: Full disclosure. I just baked the final bit of batter. This time, I got the baking time right and ate the cookies warm, as directed. I may have to make them again, but next time, I'm going to see about freezing the batter. Because if I can't freeze it, or the cookies, successfully, there's just too much of it. But I'm still annoyed by the article.

The Field Trip

Remember going on field trips when you were a kid? Remember how the bus was always too hot and the trip there was full of anxious anticipation and then the being there was great and you wondered why you were even anxious and then the trip home was really long and you, like, fell off the bus in an exhausted stupor? And remember how no matter what there was always one poor kid, sometimes two, who threw up? Well, today, I went with my kids' camp on a field trip to the Bronx Zoo, and I can tell you, almost nothing about field trips has changed.

FYI, this experience has made it impossible for me to blog about Michelle Obama, but let me say this about her: She's amazing. And I bet if she were on this field trip, she would have stepped off the bus looking completely assembled.