Cooking on Orange Street: Vodka Watermelon Slushies

So this isn't "cooking" per se, but I must say I very much enjoyed making these vodka watermelon slushies the other week -- they're easy to put together, and basically irresistible in this record-breaking heat we've been having in NYC. All you have to do is chop up some watermelon, liquefy it with a blender (hand-held is less of a pain), strain the results, ladle into a cup, and add ice and vodka.

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.

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!

A Night Out with Keith Pandolfi

So... why was I not able to blog the other night? Well, I blame it all on Keith Pandolfi and a series of coincidences. Let me explain: Earlier I had updated my Facebook status to read: "Jeni just learned how to make gumbo, jumbalaya, etc." A couple hours later I got this e-mail from my friend Keith (a former coworker) that was like, "Where the hell are you? You're not in New Orleans, are you?? I'll be there tonight." Ha! That was funny enough.

Turns out Keith was in town for the Mardi Gras parade on Saturday. It is just that big of a deal! And Keith is a Nola expert, having lived there for six years. (Later he regaled me with tales of weeklong benders in honor of Mardi Gras and other shenanigans...)

So he and his friend Katie drove out to meet me at my hotel, the Renaissance, which is where coincidence #2 came into play: Katie was headed there anyway... because it was her last day as kitchen manager at the hotel restaurant, MiLa!!

Alright, maybe I sound like a retard, but I am seriously bowled over by coincidences like that.

We met up. We went to this bar around the corner, Cajun Mike's (divey). Two more of Keith's friends came out, Elisabeth and John. Coincidence #3: John is the sous chef at Jack the Horse Tavern, a restaurant that's about two blocks from my house in Brooklyn! Amazing!

Anyway, from Cajun Mike's we were suddenly walking down Bourbon Street. I was going on about how disgusting it is, blah blah blah, but wouldn't you know it, pretty soon we were at some bar and I was getting an Abita to go in a plastic cup and walking down the street with it. Yes, you can drink outside in New Orleans. Completely ridiculous.

I think the night's itinerary from there went something like this:

1. Pat O'Briens -- probably the most famous bar in New Orleans, home of the "Hurricane" (fruit punch mixed with rum). John bought one in a souvenir glass. There were multiple rooms, including one with two people playing grand pianos facing one another, and a courtyard with a fountain on fire (?!). Also the site of Keith's very first martini at age 18.

2. Jean Lafitte's -- named after the French pirate. The oldest bar in New Orleans. Somehow we closed the bar out even though it was only 1 am.

3. dba -- cousin to the one in New York!

4. Molly's.

5. R-Bar. I think.

There might have been other stops along the way, but the memory is a little hazy. At 4 am, Katie and Keith drove me back to the hotel. And that is why I was not able to blog that night.


Elisabeth and John on Bourbon Street.


Pat O'Brien's.


Me & Keith at Pat O'Brien's.

dba.


Molly's.