And Counting

Not that you care, but I need a break and there's only one thing on my mind: party prep.

Fourteen hours left. It took three to cleanse the main apartment space (which essentially involved pushing stuff into the center of the room, rearranging things on shelves, vacuuming cleared space, and then throwing the crap from the middle of the room into the closet: organizing is for chumps).

Thirty-six flourless chocolate cupcakes (18 of which are Sriracha-flavored) have been baked. Squash is roasted and ready for soupification in the morning. What's left for the evening: prepping the devilled eggs, boiling another dozen eggs for back-up, and making the Belgian waffle cookies.

I hope you are getting hungry just reading this. Because if you aren't, then you obviously haven't had my grandmother's Belgian waffle cookies.

I just got back from a grocery run, because apparently three pounds of butter and three dozen eggs aren't enough to cover me for this event. Also, I didn't have napkins. Go figure.

Okay, enough resting. Time to go boil those eggs, clean the counter, and break out the waffle iron.

T Minus 37 Hours

I'm hosting another Holiday Open House this year, and have just about 36.5 hours left before it is due to begin.

Here is a view of my apartment in its current state, from the one clean corner:



Friends who will be in attendance, please remember this image, and note that it does not look nearly as chaotic as the reality is. Then compare with how it is when you all arrive. Hopefully there will be a noticeable difference.

Not sure how I'm going to pull it all together and get enough sleep, but I do at least have the ham done.

And truly, isn't that the most important thing? I thought so.

A Salty Motto

I know I've done a great workout this week because my arms are sore with bruising, and there were two or three days where I couldn't cross my legs without pain.

I also recently got more evidence that I'm becoming entrenched in this city. And a reminder that it's really a small, small town. On Tuesday evening, I met up for a drink with a guy who, it turns out, works with my good friend Jeremy. Completely random. This sort of thing happens to me with greater and greater frequency these days.

That last week was a blur — Wednesday was the only day I actually had the evening to myself (aside from Krav); there was a lot of wine poured down my throat, come to think of it. My usual Clay and Wine class on Monday, wine at my local on Tuesday, a Castro wine bar on Wednesday, and last night had friend Claire down for a bottle of Mourvèdre and half a bottle of the only port wine I've ever really enjoyed. And I think I'm going out for brunch with mimosas this morning. Making up for last week's home-sickness? I certainly hope so.

The Glaze Makes It Kosher for Christmas

The fortune cookie from today's dinner at the Green Elephant promises that "Your dearest wish will come true."

I take heart from that, even if it is just a slip of paper.

It's by now an annual occurrence, my mom announcing that we are "cutting back" on Christmas that year. And perhaps we did this year, in that we cut back on "junk" presents — useless tchotchkes — but with a nephew/grandson that needed spoiling, I don't think we really cut back on the amount of wrapped gifts under the tree.


Yes, his dad bought him a car for Christmas. Note the height of the pile of presents visible in the background. There was the stuff under the tree and in my parents' suitcases.

Since my parents flew in from Paris (I know, poor them) late night on Christmas Eve, we stayed in as an immediate family on Christmas Day instead of joining the extendeds at their various dinners and such. I made my glazed ham, Nicole made potatoes gratin, Jackie surprised us all with a more-than-edible corn bread souffle thing, and Mom got to nap all day long after the present-opening orgy while Dad watched basketball.


Hard at work, making pie.

I know a lot of people really hate this time of year: the crowds at the mall, the stress, the family (or lack thereof), the traveling, the spending, the weather, everything. But I kind of like Christmas, maybe more than any good Jewish girl should. I love the colder temperatures, the excuse to see people and have gatherings and share food. I almost even like the music, in small doses. (Which is why I completely avoid the local radio station that plays nothing but Christmas songs from November 1 through Christmas Day. Too much of a good thing.) To be honest, I even really like spending time with my family ... but shh! don't tell them that.



Happy holidays, everyone. I hope your Christmas/Giftmas/Yuletide celebration (or uncelebration) was full of happiness.