Thank you for your sweet comments. I have to say, I felt so much better for having written down something honest about how I'm feeling about the loss and put it out there and it sparked a much needed heart-to-heart with DK. He asked me yesterday that I take it down and I understand and respect his wish.
But I realized how important it is for me to keep writing and why I have this little neglected blog in the first place. So I won't be a stranger. And really, your kindness buoyed my spirits -- thank you.
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On a more light-hearted note:
We've been hearing for the past week about the impending five-alarm threat of a Wild and Woolly Winter Wonderland for Wednesday. The federal courts closed. Meetings were canceled intermittently through the day. State courts closed. In anticipation, I packed up my computer and work papers Tuesday night with secret glee in my heart because SNOW DAY! But I woke up to sort of tepid flurries and mere inches covering the rooftops during which I half-heartedly considered schlepping to the office. But after a lackluster start, the snow started falling in earnest around noon and the whole sky became a swirling mass of gray. I loved reading My Side of the Mountain as a little girl -- anyone remember? The little boy who runs away and lives in a burned out tree and trains a falcon and survives on algae? The idea of being snug at home while the elements storm around just deeply satisfies me on some level and I get very "nesty" and feel the urge to make a huge mess of hearty soup and banana nut bread and snuggle on the couch with a book.
My day, however, mainly consisted of sitting at the dining room table on a series of boring conference calls. Would you like to hear about my progress on various witness prep binders and how to respond to a motion to disqualify? No? Me either. But after that nonsense subsided, it turned out to be exactly the hoped-for satisfying, nesty day and I made this absurdly delicious Italian wedding soup my mother-in-law sent; holy chicken meatballs, batman, yes. Less fortuitously, because I am susceptible to food articles and read Mark Bittman's recipe in yesterday's paper, I began to toy with the idea of whole-wheat muffins. I compounded this glaring mistake by mentioning the possibility of such wholesome goodness to DK. Having never met a whole grain he didn't like, DK convinced me to throw my planned delectable banana nut bread asunder for . . . whole wheat hockey pucks.
Don't get me wrong, the batter tasted good -- 1/2 cup of butter, mashed banana, coconut and crushed pecans will make anything yummy -- but the consistency was bizarre and off-putting and I glowered at the lump of time-consuming dough (DOUGH, she stressed, not batter. Dense, unyielding dough). The end result was less deplorable than I anticipated, but even tarted up with nutella, they were . . . not good. I started to leave a chiding, underhandedly dismissive note on Bittman's blog on the NYT before my blackberry crapped out -- which is probably for the best. (ALTHOUGH, I have had conflicted feelings about Bittman ever since he made me physically uncomfortable with his shameless creepy old man flirting with hottie Spanish actress Claudia on PBS's On The Road) (ALSO, I have heard really unflattering things about him from friends in the cookbook publishing industry and I think it is telling that The Wednesday Chef who I once shamelessly grilled at a wedding shower refuses to make any of his recipes). (ALSO, I have always disliked those How To Make Everything books since I suffered through law school with a friend who religiously followed the recipes and produced lots of mediocre food that I felt I had to effusively praise since (1) it was food I didn't have to cook and (2) it was kind of sweet how proud he was of making tomato sauce) (she said like a condescending ass). Anyway, those crappy muffins did not help Bittman's cause in my heart.
So I evidently have some rather strongly-conflicted feelings about Mark Bittman. Also in that pile: John Mayer (like his music; wish he would never speak aloud again); Katie Couric; Caitlin Flanagan (so sanctimonious, so self-congratulatory, yet an undeniably talented writer); Scarlet Johansen; Mariah Carey (actually, no, her inability to wear clothes that fit her body puts her in the not-conflicted-do-not-like category). In a separate pile, celebrities who I randomly root for reasons unknown: Gwyneth Paltrow (I know, I know, but I cannot hear one word against her); Britney Spears; Sienna Miller (I loved her in Keen Eddie, what can I say?).
But I suppose I was sort of a dogmatic child -- Coke, not Pepsi; McDonald's, not Burger King; Luke Duke, not Bo. I'd go into Baskin Robbins and order a scoop of vanilla because I felt sorry for it (and disliked chocolate on principle because everyone liked lame old undeserving chocolate). What about you? Any weird loyalties to corporate giants whose clever marketing campaigns must have worked like a champ? (Really, I thought Coke and McDonald's needed a helping hand?)
