Green and Grilled

Two things I miss about Charlotte -- grilling out and seeing green everywhere. Last week, I got my fix of both. 

I made a short trip to the Queen City for work, which was awesome because I got to collect my spring clothes. Even better, I got to spend two nights in "my room" at Leigh Ann's house. She grilled pork chops on Wednesday night and let me invite my friends Amy and Anne over for dinner.

We got to sit outside on Leigh Ann's fabulous deck. Anne brought a healthy, tasty mixed-grain salad with veggies, and I amused myself making a "green salad." Everything fit the color scheme: lettuce, kiwi, avocado, Granny Smith apple, and grapes, and fresh mint from Leigh Ann's garden. (This was a riff on a salad in the Fresh Every Day cookbook from Sarah Foster.)

There was plenty of cheap wine and cheesecake, both from Trader Joe's. I will confess, it was a little hard to leave!

Seared Wild Salmon with New Potatoes and Dijon Broth

I got a little behind on my blogging last week, so I forgot to tell y'all about the scrumptious Sunday supper Kurt and I had! I remembered this recipe for Seared Wild Salmon with New Potatoes and Dijon Broth from several years ago. When I was cleaning out my recipe stash before I moved, I came across the pages I'd ripped from the April 2006 Bon Appetit. I couldn't wait to make it again this spring.

Here's a link to the recipe.

You sear the salmon in butter AND oil, which gave it that nice golden brown crush I'm so fond of in restaurants. Now I know why. Fat = Flavor. (And, in this case, texture).

Reduce some white wine, shallots and apple cider vinegar, then add chicken broth, tarragon and dijon mustard.

Pour the sauce over the salmon and some parboiled potatoes. (It's all in the recipe, peeps, I'm just giving you the highlights.) Bake at 400 for 20 minutes until the salmon and potatoes are done.

Serve in a bowl over wilted spinach. Add some hot, crusty bread to dip in the tasty broth. If you're lucky, get your artistic roommate to garnish your bowls.

If you're really lucky, maybe your roommate will make you some dessert to go with it. Say, something like individual lemon meringue tarts? 'Cause life is just sweet like that, isn't it?!

McQueen Exhibit: Membership Has Its Privileges

I was excited when Travis e-mailed me recently to ask if I'd be interested in checking out the Alexander McQueen exhibit, Savage Beauty, at the Met. He'd joined the museum this year and wanted to put his membership to use.

Anticipating long lines, given the heightened interest in the brand since Sarah Burton designed Kate Middleton's wedding gown, we fueled up with a big brunch at Sarabeth's on Madison and 92nd. In short: YUM! YUM! YUM!

I've had some great brunches since I've been living in the city, but this was one of the best because we decided to share plates and coordinate our order. So, we did not have to resolve the Great Brunch Debate of sweet vs. savory -- we had both!

Plate #1: an omelette with potatoes, ham, leeks and gruyere.

Plate 2: lemon ricotta pancakes -- so light, and with just the perfect amount of lemony tartness to counter the sweetness of the syrup and berries. (Note also what I think may be the largest bloody Mary available on the Upper East Side.)

We cleaned our plates and proceeded to the Met, where we found ourselves at the end of an interminable roped line that snaked through numerous galleries. Travis pulled out his membership card in jest.

"Um, hello!" he whispered to me in feigned indignation. "Isn't there a special line for members?"

At that moment, a docent came along. "Oh! Sir! Are you a member?" she asked. "Come this way, please!" We looked at each other in disbelief and laughed our way to the front of the line.

Despite the efforts at crowd control, the exhibit was packed, but we both loved it. Upon entering, you see two incredible dresses, one made of red medical slides and feathers, the other made of razor clam shells stripped and varnished.

I had to read some of the exhibit's text two or three times to make sense of it: "Rare among designers, he saw beyond clothing's physical constraints to its ideational and ideological possibilities."

"For McQueen, the body was a site for contravention, where normalcy was questioned and the spectacle of marginality was embraced and celebrated."

The way the exhibit is laid out and thematically presented is quite brilliant and beautifully done. We especially enjoyed the section on sadomasochistic accessories, including this bizarre mouthpiece, which I dubbed "haute headgear."

The exhibit noted that McQueen's shows "elicited an uneasy pleasure that merged wonder and terror, incredulity and revulsion." That comment reminded me of the fact that I tend to love modern art because it incites a range of emotions -- something more complex and richer than just, "Oh, well, isn't that pretty/nice."

The exhibit was certainly geared more toward costuming than ordinary clothing. But it was provocative, and it made me reconsider our constructs of what's acceptable or appropriate to wear. For example, when I saw a coat made of long coils of black hair, I thought, "That's kind of disgusting." Funny enough, I've never had that reaction to seeing women draped in fur or suede.

One of the most unforgettable moments was seeing Kate Moss appear in a hologram wearing a ruffled organza "oyster" dress. It was the most ethereal thing I've ever witnessed, and you can see it here. The New York Times also has a great video interview about the exhibit.

We wandered through the 20th Century galleries, and then I suggested we check out "Arms and Armor" in case Travis needed a little testosterone to balance out the fashion overload. Such a fun day!

Princeton Field Trip

Last Saturday, Neil needed to return a mound of books to the libraries at Princeton, so he and Nate decided to drive over and make it a day trip. I was excited for my first-ever voyage to New Jersey! It was a perfect day to walk around Princeton's gorgeous campus. Neil noted the atmosphere on Nassau Street seems quite similar to Franklin Street in Chapel Hill.

Neil explained Princeton's tradition of eating clubs, which I found fascinating. After I got home, I spent some time on Wikipedia reading up on all the traditions. (To do: read Fitzgerald's descriptions in This Side of Paradise.) For some reason, there were hardly any students out and about. We assumed they were studying for exams, but it was kind of bizarre -- it was such a gorgeous day!

Molly and her step-brother Oliver came with us. Since we had the dogs, we took advantage of a BBQ fundraiser and had some sandwiches outside. (Famous New Jersey BBQ? This may get me stripped of any remaining North Carolina citizenship! It was fine, but certainly not Bullocks.)

The dogs make quite a pair and attracted a lot of attention, especially from cute kiddos who wanted to know if it was okay to pet them. They were so worn out by the time we returned to the car, they were asleep by the time we pulled out of the parking garage!

Made-Up Mac and Cheese

Sunday night, I ventured to the Upper East Side to celebrate my one-month anniversary with Neil and Nate. A good Southern boy who loves pimento cheese, Neil had been intrigued by the pimento mac and cheese I made a few months back.

So, I thought this was a good chance to recreate it. (Check the March archives if you missed it.) Nate made us a divine salad with fruit, feta and caramelized pecans. I could have eaten just that! But we all chowed down and had seconds of the pasta.

I let the boys have the leftovers but brought home the remaining pasta. The next night, craving more creamy carb-rich comfort, I made myself a second batch using the leftover cheeses. This is the kind of cooking I want to do more of -- no recipes, just the basics. I melted butter, stirred in some flour and milk to make a white sauce, let it thicken a bit, then added Parmesan, cheddar and mozzarella. I tossed in the cooked pasta, threw in some fresh spinach, and added some salt and -- feeling kinda crazy -- red pepper.

It hit the spot! Kurt was happy to sample some when he got home.

Accidental Audition

Last Friday, I decided to join the gym on my corner, Equinox. As previously noted, it's a big investment versus my bargain-basement $26/month YMCA membership (only the Smith sisters can engineer such a deal). Nevertheless, it seemed a lot of my new friends belong to Equinox, which has locations all over the city. And, as Nate put it, "You're going to pay $100 a month in New York to belong to a crappy gym. Why not pay a little more and belong to a nice one?"

I was sold during the tour when they showed me the rainforest showers stocked with Kiehl's products. "It will be like having my own spa right down the street!" I thought.

Anyway, eager to take advantage of my new membership, I've been pouring over the list of scheduled classes. I discovered at the Y that I need the accountability of a class to hang in there and challenge myself. Spinning was my first venture. As I checked the list of classes for Wednesday night, I saw this:

NYC Dance Project, 7:30 to 8:30. Leave all your inhibitions at the door! Abby's class has the pulse of NYC, where dance is provocative, fun and flashy. Dare yourself to be truthful and expressive, and dare yourself to really dance!

Now, maybe you're seeing where this is headed?

I joined the crowd lined up outside the studio, waiting for the previous class to conclude. "Do you come to this class often?" I asked a trim, toned lady. "Is it like Zumba?"

"No, it's definitely not like Zumba. But it's great. It's more choreography." Hmm. Choreography? That was my least favorite part of auditions at the Quincy Music Theatre in my teens!

I was a little worried, but I was more determined not to chicken out. I found a place on the back row of the class and chatted with another girl, who said she was also there for the first time.

Before long, I found myself feeling like I'd accidentally stepped into a Broadway audition. This dance was hard! I kind of got the first four moves...but then we were on to the next set! And the next! Oh, crap, wait, I forgot how to do that first step. And rats, how do you get from -- wait, was that a right foot? Do you start with your left? Why is everyone going backwards! I can't see! What's she doing up there! Okay, I'll watch this guy. No, wait, he's not doing it right. That girl, I'll watch her.   

Abby was endearlingly Rubenesque and couldn't have been any more sassy and encouraging. And I was at least sweaty, so it did get my heart pumping. I just laughed at myself, hung in there, and reminded myself that no one else was watching me screw up -- they were too worried about their own moves. It was a bit harder to believe that when Abby made us separate into groups of guys and girls to "perform." The guys were AMAZING. It was like watching Flashdance. Even the nerdy guy who looked like he'd stepped into the wrong class was incredible.

With five minutes to go, Abby taught us the end of the dance, which involved crawling around on all-fours and humping the floor. Determined not to leave, I gave it my best. My first-time neighbor and I laughed and rolled our eyes at ourselves and the whole silly experience. Then I noticed there was a back exit right by me...and if I stood by it while drinking my water bottle, surely no one would notice if I just slipped out...

Picasso Saturday

We have finally gotten some nice spring weather! Yesterday was a perfect chance to get out and enjoy it. I slept in a bit and then went for a jog before showering to meet my friend Julie at Grey Dog in Chelsea.

(Side note: the recommendation of Grey Dog came from my friend Kate, a West Village resident who happens to be on assignment in Hong Kong this year. So, while it's a bummer that we aren't here at the same time -- we haven't seen each other since we studied in Spain together -- she armed me with a list of her favorite restaurants.)

Julie and I hadn't seen each other since we graduated from Duke, but she is actually a double-alum and was in my sister's MBA class at Fuqua. It was great fun to catch up, and we both loved our food (breakfast quesadilla for me, omlette for her). After brunch, I noticed Loehman's was nearby, so I popped in there and then bought a lemon Italian ice for my short walk home.

I took a little rest and then headed back to Chelsea for some culture, courtesy of New York magazine. When I told my friend Elyse I was moving to NYC, she sent the following advice:
Go buy, and then subscribe to New York magazine RIGHT NOW! First of all, all the editorials are great, so you will love the read, but they talk about everything that is important to locals and you will be on the same page as everyone by the time you get there after a few issues. So when you meet people and they go on and on about the newest exibit at some obscure gallery in Brooklyn, you will already know about it.  

Funny enough, before I could subscribe on my own, some darling gals from the office got me a subscription! The magazine arrives at the beginning of each week, and it's lovely to have a reason to be excited it's Monday. This week's issue featured an exhibit at the Gagosian Gallery: Picasso and Marie-Therese: L'Amour Fou. (That title translates to "Crazy Love," but the gallery didn't bother to translate it or any other French titles.)

Marie-Therese was Picasso's mistress and muse from 1927 to 1937, and the exhibit is co-curated by their granddaughter. The press release for the exhibit calls Marie-Therese "the primary inspiration for Picasso's most daring aesthetic experiments" in that decade, "with her statuesque  body and strong, pure profile, [she] fueled his imagination with a luminous dream of youth."

In short, I loved it! First of all, the gallery was quite large; the exhibit covered at least four or five sizeable rooms. Even better, the exhibit was free. There was a line outside, but it moved quickly, and I passed the time by eavesdropping on the group of men in front of me. ("I haven't seen you since we were in Rio!" one man exclaimed to the other.)

One of my favorite works was Deux Femmes Enlacees, sort of an erotic hodgepodge of hands, boobs, faces, fingers and toes all over the place.

There were a few pieces of sculpture, one of which reminded me of both an angel and a warrior, depending on where I was standing. Are those eyes or boobs? Is that a mouth or a derriere? Another one of my favorites was Le Baiser. Like many of the pieces, it was from a private collection, and I cannot find an image of it online. (Note that Picasso had many works with that name, but this one involved two angry triangle-shaped tongues and two rows of ferocious teeth. It was really sharp and angular and raw.)

The last room of the exhibit featured a wall with a long excerpt from a letter written by Picasso to Marie-Therese in 1936. On another wall was a flickering black and white video of the muse herself. Having seen her image in so many paintings, it was surreal to see her turn her head to the right just for a second and catch a brief flicker of that hard, angular profile carried throughout the exhibit.

Since there are so many galleries in Chelsea, I thought I might as well make it a two-fer, so I was pleased to see my trusty magazine had also encouraged visitors to visit a show called "Addicted to Highs and Lows" at the Bortolami gallery just one block south. 

Curator Richard Aldrich looks at painting as a realm on which to speculate, a site of experimentation, and a psycho-physical map with coordinates to unexpected and unknown territories. Our advice: open your mind and don't scoff; through 4/30. 

What luck! I'd catch it on its last day. Open mind? Don't scoff? Sign me up! 

Oh, good heavens. I wanted to like this. Really, I did. But what do you make of an exhibit that includes an Untitled mixed media work that seems to be a display of rocks and tiny little mouse heads? 

Or this pot that greets you as you enter. "Is that cauldron part of the exhibit, or is it lunch?" I wondered. "Is the gallery manager charging his cell phone, or is that art?" I referenced the photocopied exhibit guide to learn more.

Entitled Convox Dialer Double Distance of a Shining Path, the pot included "recalled powdered milk, abolished math, antidepressants, palm tree essence, shaved sea lice, ground Teva rubber dust, Korean thermal clay, steeped Swatch watch, aluminum pot, cell phone signal jammer and electric burner." I peered inside but could see only the palm, not the Swatch or other sundries.

Another highlight/lowlight was a "work" (and I use that term lightly) that was simply black oil on linen stapled to a 10.5 x 9 inch stretcher. I wanted not to be a scoffer, really I did, but it just wasn't happening.

Down the street by the stairs that lead up to the High Line, a crowd was gathered around a man in a booth with a stuffed coyote beside him. He had a few "exhibits" and two tiny chairs for kids to sit and watch his demonstrations. It was a delightful diversion!

Evening entertainment consisted of Mexican food with my new friend Dana, her friend Ben and his friend Darren. (I can't remember if I wrote about dinner with her and some friends last Saturday night; her cousin and I are neighbors in Charlotte). We went to Dos Caminos, where we sat outside to enjoy the nice weather. I had some very tasty smoked brisket enchiladas. The boys treated, which was sweet of them. From there, we went to Pastis for more drinks. A very fun evening, but I am paying the price today!