The Los Angeles branch (pun INTENDED) of Fig & Olive restaurant opened last night, and I was lucky enough to be invited to the swanky event. The bash featured a full-on red carpet, which I walked with my cohort, and I’m happy to report that absolutely none of the three paparazzi who were standing there bored paused to snap a photo of us. Apparently they didn’t realize that I am the STAAAAR of Housewives Hoedown, the video podcast that has taken the Internet by STORM!!!
Anyway, Sly and I eventually found our way inside the massive restaurant where we ran into friends (such as the inimitable Katherine Spiers) as well as a smattering of reality stars. Above, I found Vienna from The Bachelor, who was just about as sweet and friendly as can be. I actually wanted to be her friend. Points against her: she’s not familiar with Ina Garten’s oeuvre. But that’s okay. I can teach her.
Nevertheless, Vienna revealed that she loves to cook and does so nearly every night. I’m sensing a starry Adventure in Domesticity on the horizon (Vienna, CALL ME).
My beautiful and talented friend Katherine recently wrote a piece for Black Book about the ever refreshing and newly rediscovered Pimm’s Cup cocktail. Odds are that you might salivate while reading this article, and as someone who assisted in some of Katherine’s taste testing, I can verify that at least one of the beverages (from First & Hope) was just as tasty as it sounds.
As part of my ongoing series of reviewingmy free purchases from CSN Stores, I must now move on to my most needed addition to the kitchen: a citrus juicer. My friends and I often convene for what we like to call “Fresh Cocktail Hour,” in which we whip up a batch of beverages totally from scratch. We’ve made margaritas (classic, jalapeÃ±o, and Ina Garten varieties), mojitos, basil gimlets, and who knows what else. Many of the drinks require excessive amounts of lemon and lime juicing, and given that I only have a lowly reamer, it’s a process that can take a while. To make an average sized batch of cocktails, it can take twenty or twenty five minutes to go through the squeezing. Plus, with all the seeds and pulp, it can get a bit unwieldy. Therefore, buying a citrus juicer was a no-brainer for me. When it arrived, I was more than excited. I juiced an orange just for the hell of it. Heck, for the first few days, I juiced whatever I could, even if it was totally excessive. Truth be told: I didn’t need to bust out the machine for just one lowly lime, but I was excited and in the throes of citrus mania.
With those first humble juicing experiences, the machine seemed to fare well. It had an unfortunate habit of overloading my outlet; thus, requiring me to press the little reset button on an annoyingly regular basis, but this wasn’t a major problem. The real test was gonna be seeing if it could stand up to the rigorous juicing that a Fresh Cocktail Hour would require. Enter my friend Katherine. We decided to gather some friends for some afternoon libations this past weekend, and that could only mean one thing: it was time to enlist my juicer for service.
The chosen recipe: Victory Lemonade. This bombastically named cocktail called for a cup and a half of lemon juice (among other things). Would the juicer be up for it? Results after the jump.
It’s been a while since I updated about my balcony herb garden. In fact, the last time I posted about it was August of 2009. Back then the headline read “Everything is alive,” but sadly, I’m not sure I can boast such wonderful news these days. It’s been a rough few months for my plants. Since August, they’ve suffered through a taxing heat wave, an accidental week of no watering (I was out of town!), and a general lack of pruning on my part. It’s been bad. Real bad.
Even worse, I seem to have built up some resentment towards my herbs. It’s like we’re in a small passive-aggressive battle. If they don’t want to grow, then FINE. I won’t water them every two days. THEN we’ll see who’s the boss. Sadly, this approach has not been helpful, mostly because plants don’t have the emotional capacity to feel guilt, and so things have gotten a touch out of hand.