This Will Be Our Year

How's 2013 going for you? Here, scootch near me and we'll go through mine so far, okay?

First, I made a cake from this Christmas present.





Then, we welcomed 2013 on the roof with friends, glitter in my mouth and champagne spilling all over my gloves. In a totally unexpected strategic move, we managed to see three or four different fireworks displays from that little corner of Prospect Heights.



After that, I discovered incredible WWII spy thriller Restless and made chicken and dumplings (with homemade chicken stock, naturally). This was my "make do and mend" portion of the year.



And a few days ago, I hit beauty junkie jackpot by making the Sephora VIB list. It's the very small, shiny things, ok?



During a potentially illegal public bathroom selfie sesh, I realized I need a haircut.



This weekend, I made the short and enjoyable journey to Briskettown for breakfast tacos.









My compadre there had about 4 brisket, bacon and brussels sprouts tacos by himself.



Aaand, I've already seen three movies since Christmas. Personal best!

Les Mis: Total sobfest for me. I wept openly during I Dreamed a Dream, but managed not to spill any popcorn.
Jack Reacher: Not the Bourne knockoff I so desperately wanted.
Django Unchained: Solid bloody gold.



And I would be remiss not to partake in a few oysters while they're in season.

Last night, we took the KitchenAid pasta attachment for a spin and watched The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas. Did you know about this? It's Dolly Parton and Burt Reynolds, singing and being sexy. Our local movie theater featured it during a country brunch this weekend, but tickets sold out before we could get there. (Check it out on Netflix Instant.)



2013: keep it up.

The Crimson Petal

I changed my blog header. Do you like it? Does that work for you? I got rid of the nonsense title and stuck with my messy, weird handwriting.

Speaking of weird! Let's talk Victorian prostitution stories!

Meet my new favorite Beeb production, The Crimson Petal and the White.

If you ever had a question about whether women and children in Victorian London had a hard time, this show responds in the affirmative. Shit was tough.

It's a classic love story: man falls in love with a prostitute. Man has a mad wife. Prostitute's got her eye on the prize. You know, classic.

Watch it. It's beautiful and great and I loved it.

I am a fallen woman, but I assure you: I did not fall. I was pushed.

Tinkering Around Brooklyn

Yesterday was engineered around using up a Groupon for the Cobble Hill Cinemas. Down we headed from North Brooklyn into the perfect brownstone'd south.

First was brunch at Prime Meats. After only two visits, it's definitely one of my favorite restaurants in New York. I had poached eggs and smoked salmon over grits, and a side of mushroom spätzle (SERIOUS WORM ALERT). Plus I had a little glass (ok, TWO, ok?) of the brunch punch, which changes every weekend—this time, it was some mix of gin, Aperol, green tea, and other delicious things.









One of the reasons I love the place is its colonial interior and turn of the century details.



After, we walked around Carroll Gardens and Cobble Hill. I'd never been around the Gowanus Canal before, so we crossed it to check out Film Biz, a prop shop where you can rent or buy used goodies.

Then to the cinema for Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy.

I had wanted to see the movie for a while (helllo, Colin Firth in a British spy novel movie? Talk to me later). It was strange, though—I'd heard all about the movie's "Mid-Century" sets. But the costumes kept confusing me because I could have sworn we were watching a movie set in the '70s. When I got home, lo and behold—it was set in 1973, but the costume and art departments wanted it to seem natural. As in, when the '70s hit, nobody threw out all their Mid-Century stuff. The result is a great mix of '50, '60 and '70s costumes, sets and hair/makeup.

The movie itself was confusing, with quick scene changes and a long list of characters we had to keep straight. I do recommend it for the beautiful costumes and sets alone. And Gary Oldman.

(movie images)

111 Archer Avenue

Who doesn't love The Royal Tenenbaums? No one, probably. Show me someone who hates that movie and I'll show you a lying imbecile. Or a film student with some legitimate opinions. Whatever.



Last night, I attended the 10th Anniversary screening of the film at Lincoln Center. My quick-witted compadre had found and bought the tickets early last week. We couldn't believe our luck.

My good friends Wes Anderson and Eric Anderson were there, alongside Gwyneth Paltrow, Bill Murray and Anjelica Huston. They did a Q&A panel after the screening and it was fantastic to see their rapport. As far as the screening itself?

I've probably seen the movie... well, let's say a couple of times. But never on the big screen. It was pretty incredible to lean back and notice the smallest, most random details I hadn't ever spotted on a 15" laptop screen. And, as I'm in the fever pitch stage of a decorating fervor, I was most impressed by the set design.

NOW. I am hardly the first person to write about the sets and art of The Royal Tenenbaums. I'm probably not the first person to do it today. But here's what I found interesting this time around. The kind of stuff I plan on incorporating into my next apartment.

First of all, the whole house at 111 Archer Avenue reminds me of the Museum of Natural History in New York or Deyrolle in Paris. It's stuffed to the brim with... stuff. Wood paneling, cozy nooks, taxidermied animals, painted animals and scientific objects are everywhere.







(At the museum)

The boyfriend already has some mounted horns scattered around his place, but how magical would a full stuffed animal be? Or at least some mounted butterflies. Like this:



-

Another thing I love is how much art the family has.





Whether it's painted by Richie...



... or of professional interest to Ethel...





Everything is a bit scattered, but there for a reason. Everything has its place.

And maybe I should start a bright yellow collection of NGs.

-

Speaking of yellow. I adore the eye-searing shade of Wes Anderson yellow. If that color were a food, I'm sure it would make you cry with pain.





Of course, it's frequently found throughout all his movies. (Ahem. One of my favorites.)

-

I'm always on the lookout for some maps. Raleigh St. Clair's house reminds me of the nerve center of a British expedition.



Say it with me: White Man's Burden chic. Without any of the horrific connotations.

-

I could never have enough subway tile. Ever. (And cute pink phone.)



-

And finally, let's keep things a little Old New York-nautical. Like the Maritime or something.



(All photos from here)

All Weekended Out

To those who say, "Do you do anything on weekends other than eat, sleep, hang out, window shop and sit in coffee places?" I say, "Uh, no." And, "Aha, you might have a point," and, "Yeah? So?"

Here's how it went down.

Friday after work I went in search of ramen at Rai Rai Ken, a little noodle bar in the East Village. Mission: broth and pork (as usual), and this did the trick.

Waiting for a seat.

"Excited?"

DUR. Yes.

Trying to climb into the miso soup.

My ramen.

His ramen (about which I need merely say: "crispy garlic.")

Saturday, we headed to the Grub Street Food Festival in the Chinatown region. It was still pretty early, but also super crowded and cooold. South of Delancey is a rough place. (No it isn't.)

Bahn mi and rice balls.

Mushroom pizza.

There were also dumplings and empanadas consumed. Unfortunately, the lines meant we skipped The Smile's grilled cheese and Pies & Thighs. My big ticket item was a Luke's Lobster roll.

That's a real smile, folks.

Cold, jostled, dazed from the magnificent selection, we headed to Donut Plant to see what the Pumpkin Donut was all about.

And oh... Oh my. It was terrific. An apple donut and a carrot cake donut also made their way in the bag, somehow. I floated down the street on the hot chai. We medium power walked to Rebel Rebel to try and find some wax muzak. (I got this little baby.)

Passing through SoHo, SOMEONE realized Calexico was still open.

I was too full to do more than steal some bites loaded with crack sauce. But he went to town.

"How it it?"
"SRO GROOOOD."

The last thing on my To-Do was hit The House of Waris Pop Up Tea Room.

This review pretty much sums it up.

Waris was photographing this in a spiffy suit before I could get my phone out.

We walked up to what looked like a closed pop up, but then after sort of barging in, realized it was a-okay.

I scuttled up to the Eric Anderson prints like a crab on fire! Bat? Er. The cross-section of the Belafonte caught my eye. Sadly, I couldn't part with the cash, even though I was informed that Eric Anderson was wandering around and would sign it for me. The tea looked interesting but not that interesting. Waris wandered past dreamily and said hi with a huge grin on his face.

Fin.

Sunday was lazy and productive. (Clean laundry! Clean bathroom!) The Jets were playing, so the boyfriend and I staked out some barstools at Brooklyn Bowl and commenced drinking too much. The Blue Ribbon food was insanely good—we got the BBQ wings and some monstrosity called the "Rock and Roll Fries," which is fries topped with two types of cheese and gravy. Hng. I've already begun a detox, never you worry.

Beach Fossils performed and we bopped along until it was time to go home.

I think I need a weekend after that weekend.