Saturday, July 24, 2010

Subway Signs: Clark St 2/3 Stop

Subway stations strike me as the most interesting venues for public art. What has, by unknown civil engineers, architects and administrators, been considered "universally appealing" is often... puzzling. Take the Clark 2/3 stop, for example. I've always been fascinated by the floor pattern in the corridor between the elevators and the stairs down to the platform, and spent many an hour (seriously) mentally searching for the rhyme or reason to the pattern. I could never figure it out. What is the relationship between the different shapes and colors??



After taking these photos today, I think I see something -- in each vertical row (if you're looking in the direction of the second photo), the red circle slowly moves from bottom to top to encroach upon the comfortable union of the triangle and square. Zounds, have I cracked the code?

On Eating Utensils / Form & Function

A while ago, Chef K brought home a little present for me -- a specially designed espresso spoon by coffee company Illy that he'd gotten from work. As you can see from this picture, it's completely flat, supposedly all the better to stir with.



I couldn't help but think this little bit of innovation was completely unnecessary. Chef K protested, "But you don't need the spoon part!" Yeah, but... what if you want to taste what you just stirred? And if it's just a stirrer, why is the end shaped like a regular spoon?

This in turn got me thinking about utensil design more broadly, and how its evolution has been shaped by not only what we eat but the very culture of how we eat -- how we sit at a table (or don't) and consume food, who we do it with and what we like to do while we're eating.

Roland Barthes famously proposes, in Mythologies, that utensils developed in a necessary and inevitable way from the specific foods eaten by specific cultures, and that such innovations are characteristic of those cultures. Thus, "aggressive" cultures in the West "naturally" created sharp implements -- forks and knives -- to spear and cut their food, while in contrast, the "delicate" cultures of the East developed chopsticks to gently separate and caress theirs. It's a poetic theory, but suspect not only because it essentializes foreign cultures but because it takes without questioning the age-old idea that form follows function.




Henry Petroski, on the other hand, argues in The Evolution of Useful Things that form does not follow function in any straightforward way, that necessity is almost never the mother of invention. Rather, desire, whimsy and, importantly, failure, more regularly dictate the twists and turns of design evolution. This would certainly seem the case when we look at the Illy spoon/stirrer.

The basic forms of the knife, fork and spoon have remained relatively unchanged for the last two centuries, even as the implements with which we cook have multiplied exponentially and grown ever more microscopic in function -- these three items (varying sometimes only by size) have continued to be our sole dining companions, while in the kitchen, we now work with not only ladles and tongs but spaghetti spoons, apple corers, avocado slicers and melon scoops.

As new culinary fashions arise -- molecular gastronomy, for example -- how will these basic eating utensils change? Are fork and spoon adequate to taste... foam? What are the best utensils to sample tiny, pulverized pieces of food, or will new ones need to be created? What will they look like -- and will they stay long in our tableware lexicon?

Revisiting the Frying Pan

A long, long time ago, in my wild days of youth (just kidding), I went to the Frying Pan once or twice. All I can remember is that it was really packed, all the time, but hey, during the summer it's hard to beat a two-story barge floating in the Hudson, with a 360-degree bar and the sunset in the background.

A couple days ago, Andrew, a fellow intern at Martha Stewart, where I'm working this summer, suggested we go for happy hour someplace close by. "How about the Frying Pan?" I guess it'd been so long since I'd gone that I didn't really have any idea where it was. Imagine my surprise when I realized it's right across the highway from Martha HQ -- we have the perfect aerial view from the West windows!

Despite the horrendous crowds, it didn't disappoint. Andrew and I sat at a tiny table on the Northern side and had a couple beers looking back toward the city (that's our building there below) -- and at one point, some kayak polo players. It was a beautiful summer evening.



Weird Street Art aka Why I Love New York

Seen on the streets of NYC recently...

Crocheted bike, Essex just above Delancey, July 18:


Asphalt and broken glass, unused bit of street just east of the York St F stop, July 22:

Cherry Season

In Chinatown last week, I just couldn't resist buying these beautiful Rainier and Bing cherries. (The Bings were OK, the Rainiers were amazingly sweet and crisp.)



Who doesn't love this time of year, with all the raspberries, blueberries, blackberries, cherries and currants, at the markets and on the streets?

Cooking on Orange Street: Lemon Caper Chicken Pasta


Here's a quick, easy dinner we cooked up this past week when we got home late and didn't feel like ordering takeout:

Ingredients:

4 chicken thighs
A smattering of veggies like red pepper, (leftover) spring garlic, onion, scallion
1 can chicken stock
2 lemons
1 bottle small green olives
1 bottle capers
1 tbsp cornstarch
Salt and pepper to taste

1. Brown small chunks of chicken thigh meat in a large pot and remove quickly.
2. Saute the vegetables, except scallions, until softened.
3. Add chicken stock, olives and capers, then the browned chicken.
4. Add lemon juice.
5. Cook down stock for about 20 minutes, adding cornstarch to thicken sauce.
6. Add scallions and immediately serve over rice or pasta.

Cooking on Orange Street: Chinese-Style Boiled Peanuts

I've been looking forward to doing this post for a while. Boiled peanuts are something we absolutely love to make in the summer, thanks to an accidental discovery in Chinatown last year.

It's not uncommon for street vendors to sell roasted peanuts, but fresh peanuts are different. Just take a close look -- fresh peanuts are moist-looking and often a little dirty, like they've just been dug up from the ground. Some are even a bit green. Most unexpectedly, fresh peanuts have a vegetal, legume-y smell, like peas or beans. It's startling, for something we usually see so hard and brown.

There are a lot of recipes out there for boiled peanuts, especially Southern-style (I've yet to try), but here is what we do:

Ingredients (all measurements approximate):

2 lbs fresh peanuts
2 oz salt
1 tsp whole black peppercorns
2 whole star anise

1. Wash the peanuts of dirt and drain.
2. Place peanuts in a large pot and fill with water until peanuts are almost completely covered.


3. Add seasonings and bring to a boil (below, the star anise).


4. After boiling for 2-3 hours, remove from heat and place in fridge overnight (about 8 hours).


5. Shell and enjoy!


The result is addictive -- the taste savory and meaty, the texture soft. You can actually use a very similar seasoning mix (with a little sesame oil and rice wine) to make Chinese-style braised beef or pork (my all-time favorite dish), or even "tea eggs" (a traditional Chinese snack made from hard-boiling eggs in a mix of tea, salt and anise).

Just for kicks, check out this little peanut -- looks like a man! A reminder that peanuts, when not sorted in a factory, are varied and idiosyncratic:

Saturday, July 17, 2010

Report: New Rooftop Bars

Last night Marisa and I went on a little reconnaissance mission for our friend Jocelyn's bachelorette party, checking out two rooftop bars as possible locales for the party. (Tough job, I know!)

First up we went to the Top of the Strand, at the Strand Hotel on 37th. It was smaller than I had imagined, but the view of the Empire State Building was definitely impressive and the cocktails tasty. Importantly, it wasn't too crowded, the vibe was nice and casual, and the people there weren't too douchey -- they seemed like an older foreign tourist crowd, on the whole.




The second place we went to was Glass Bar at the Hotel Indigo in Chelsea, somewhat of a victim to the whole "trendy" thing that is a pet peeve for me and a magnet for button-up-shirt banker types who stare at you like you don't belong. A pretty fun place, though, with fun music and room to dance. And fans to circulate the air on a hot summer night!



Mr. Tomato Update: 5 Weeks!

Look how much he's grown! He has to be on the fire escape full-time now.


Just compare this to his baby days:




More here on when we first got him.

Seattle, Part 4: The Ballard Farmer's Market

The morning of July 4th we headed over to Ballard, about 15 minutes from downtown Seattle, for brunch and a leisurely weekend stroll around the farmer's market there.

We ate at a contemporary French brasserie-type place, a la Balthazar or Schiller's, where we both had a decent duck confit hash with poached eggs.


Then we sampled some of the local food and produce at the market outside, like these mini sugared donuts (tasted just like churros!) that came off this cool machine that flipped each one over after a set period of time.


Finally we walked away with a pound and a half of some absolutely delicious Rainier cherries (in season) and this beautiful bouquet of sweet peas and some of kind of daisy. :)

Seattle, Part 3: Staying at the Hyatt Olive 8... aka a Meditation on Modern Luxury

I headed home after my afternoon walk to prep for the rehearsal dinner. Chef K was running errands for the groom, so I had some time by myself in our hotel room at the Hyatt Olive 8 to relax and, like a real design geek, check out the decor. The hotel itself is brand-new so the furnishings were impeccably clean and in tip-top shape, the design sleek and modern. Everything, really, was quite "nice" -- but it really got me thinking about "trendy" vs. "true luxury" in contemporary interior design, especially with regard to hotel, restaurant and bar interiors.

Take the Olive 8 -- it had all the hallmarks of "trendy." Black-painted wood (OK, plywood): check. Geometric patterned bedding in a cool (as opposed to warm) color palette: check. Copious frosted glass: check. If our room had had those squiggly pieces of "driftwood" (painted black, of course) sold at places like West Elm, I wouldn't have been surprised. And the sliding door to the bathroom -- so "cool," yet so inconvenient.






So why don't all these elements add up to true sophistication? What makes an interior truly sophisticated? I think it comes down to the details, to high-quality materials, a classic, not up-to-the-minute, sensibility and almost always a sense of personality, a thoughtful eclecticism. Not the kind of impersonal design-by-numbers too often seen in all those bars and hotel lobbies with black-painted wood, blue uplighting, geometric-patterned wallpaper (or damask -- ugh, so 2005), that kind of thing.

I don't really mean to be picking on Olive 8 in particular. In fact, all of the above being said, I would definitely recommend the Olive 8 to anyone traveling to Seattle -- it was a very comfortable stay and great value!!

Seattle, Part 2: Shopping the SAM Gift Shop

After saying goodbye to Angelica (she had to go back to work at some point), I spent a super relaxing afternoon walking down First Ave, popping into interesting boutiques here and there. As I got closer to Pike Place Market, I passed the Seattle Art Museum, where the big show seemed to be "Kurt." It took me a minute to realize it was a show about art inspired by famous Seattle native son Kurt Kobain -- which was kind of interesting, but not really interesting enough to justify an expensive ticket (even with student discount) and the attention span required to read wall text.

So I went to the gift shop instead, which honestly is -- I say with no shame! -- sometimes my favorite part of the whole museum-going experience. (What did you expect from a blog called Materialista?) I was especially looking forward to seeing SAM's because I wasn't able to stop by last time due to time constraints (and Chef K's waning patience).

Fun little place! I tried on a necklace made up entirely of red felt loops (very cute and something I could totally make myself) and also admired the red plastic Ron Arad chairs -- you can never sit in the metal ones because they are up on some museum pedestal (literally and figuratively), so it was cool to experience their mechanics in person.



I also liked these woven paper lamps made by a contemporary Japanese designer -- a nice update to Noguchi's iconic Akari lamps.

Seattle, Part 1: Lunch in the International District

July 4th weekend, Chef K and I flew out to Seattle for a friend's wedding. Happily, I got to see another Seattle-based friend -- my college roommate, Angelica! Since I'd only been to the city once before, Angelica graciously showed me some of the sights around town en route to a delicious pho lunch in the International District (aka Chinatown). The restaurant we went to, Green Leaf (I think), had these ridiculous throne-like chairs with armrests in the shape of captain's wheels. Totally awesome and bizarre!






Afterward, we meandered slowly back to Angelica's office via Uwajimaya, a big Japanese grocery store here, and the attached Kinokuniya bookstore. Not even in San Diego have I ever seen an Asian supermarket so clean, so big and so neatly organized, with such over-the-top theme decor! Scratch that -- any supermarket. Every aisle seemed to hold a new treasure trove of amazing Asian foodstuffs, and the produce and sake selections were superb (Angelica's dad is quite a fan of the latter, I hear).

Here is an overall shot of the store. See the paper lanterns and fake wisteria vines?? And you can just make out the gigantic paper dragon sprawling over about 10 aisles in the background.


Plus I just have to include this pic of geoducks in the seafood section (eww!):

Tuesday, July 13, 2010

Cooking on Orange Street: Seasoned Tofu with Garlic Scapes and Shiitake

Since we were going to be in Seattle for the July 4th weekend, Chef K and I made a special effort to clean out the fridge beforehand. Hence this improv dish I cooked up that actually turned out quite well.

A few weeks ago, we got garlic scapes at the market, mainly because I thought they looked super interesting. In reality, they are quite delicious as well, with a nice, mild garlic flavor. I cut these into 1-inch chunks, then sliced them as thinly as possible lengthwise, tossed in a pan with leftover shiitake and finally added sliced seasoned tofu and soy sauce, rice vinegar, salt and a touch of sambal, and served everything over fresh noodles from Chinatown.


Monday, July 12, 2010

The 2010 Gowanus Studio Space Jell-O Mold Competition

The GSS Jell-O Mold Competition is, it's probably safe the say, the only event of its kind. For a few years now, local art/design types have gathered annually in this studio space in the industrial no-man's-land between Carroll Gardens and Park Slope to pit their molded jello creations against each others'.

Historically many Pratt peeps attend and/or participate, and this year was no exception, so me and a few other folks moseyed down to show our support. Although I didn't agree with some of the winners ("Ascension Aspic" aka Bloody Mary jello in the form of the Virgin Mary -- EWW!) and some of my friends got robbed (like my fellow Umbra winner Michael Liu, who made fantastic and tremendously tasty "Bouncy Ball" jello balls, complete with a vending machine found off Craigslist), much fun was had all around.

Jello shots for sale:


Adorable Alexis with her dual-flavored jello pills (still can't believe they gave runner-up to the guy who had the exact same concept!):


Michael's bouncy balls:


Of the winners, I thought this one was probably the coolest: stiff agar cups with the appearance of cut glass, filled with different types of homemade herbal lemonade:

Cooking on Orange Street: Peking Duck

Chef K was sooooo excited to try his hand at this Chinese classic. For two weeks in a row, we were denied fresh duck at the farmer's market -- first, because we passed up the duck to make chicken instead, and then the next week because we came too late in the day and they were sold out.

So when we finally got our hands on one, Chef K pounced and right away started brining it and prepping it for its two-day transformation into the dish we all love.

Since the idea of hanging it up overnight (the proper traditional way) made the professional in him queasy, he put the brined duck in the fridge for about 8 hours to dry out:


Then he roasted it and together we shredded it and set out the hoisin sauce, thinly sliced scallions and warmed buns. A definite treat!