Breakfast bread puddings. At least, that’s what Phil’s taken to calling them because he’s wholeheartedly against my calling it “French Toast Casserole.” Casserole, quite simply, is an ugly middle-America word that conjures up images of upturned gelatinous soups, chicken legs, and overcooked egg noodles. Basically cellulite but with more structure. “Besides, French toast is crunchy on the outside.” Yes, it’s pan-fried in oil, and you need a plateful of paper towels at the ready. My “Breakfast Pudding Bake” deserves no towels, no plates at the ready. I can bake a tray of it on the weekend, serve some, then divvy up portions for the rest of the week-freezing two servings at a time. Also, it’s not all about the kids. It’s perfect to have at the ready for when guests pop in. Not that I ever have unexpected guests, but I like to think that I live in a kitchen that can accommodate extraordinary circumstances, from hurricanes to hangovers. Wrapped in foil, from freezer to toaster oven, in five miles minutes, they have a puffy, eggy, soft breakfast pudding worthy of childhood comfort and memories. Sometimes you make a meal and you just know ”This is what they’ll remember when they’re older.” Hell, it’s what I’ll remember when I’m older.

MAKEUP
Makeup brushes, what each one is used for, makeup tutorials, creative Mac shadow combinations, new fall nail polish colors: Nars Galion, Chanel Paradoxal, and Deborah Lippman Fashion (near dupe: Essie Brooch The Subject). I am wholly engaged with reading up on makeup dupes. There are sites out there that will actually tell you the duplicate Wet an Wild color for a Mac color. That kind of thing. Now, I’m obsessed with having every single non neon color Mac makes. Just to have it, if I should need it, after watching some makeup tutorial on YouTube that will give me the perfect Kardashian eye.

PERFUME
I’ve been complimented on my latest perfume purchase exactly five times in the past two days. Sharing the name of this perfume is like revealing that I watch The Bachelor. But, I do. So, here it is. The perfume I love to love and hate and love: Boyfriend by Kate Walsh. Go ahead, hate me. I’m used to it.

DINNERS
Do ahead Dinners. “Dream Dinners” and freeze ahead meals, wanting to have dinner party meals in moments. I’m obsessed with Dore Greenspan’s At My French Table, and I can’t understand how she doesn’t weigh more than the Arc D’ Triumph. Two dishes I’m making this week, “Pumpkin stuffed with everything Good” and ‘Chicken, apples, and cream a la Normande.”

STICKY RICE
Another obsession of mine: my coconut sticky rice. It is insane. My mother made us rice pudding with “the wooden spoon.” I make this instead. You need the right rice and methods, timing, and planning, soaking rice in a bowl overnight

Another obsession: PHO. Where in South Florida does a girl get her hands on some authentic Pho?

Today I’m making a “Zero points” Watchers Points Plus soup with Chinese cabbage, bok choy, bean sprouts, water chestnuts, bamboo shoots, cilantro and lime. Add a protein on top, from egg to nuts to chicken or beef, long slippery noodles for the kids.

This week, I also baked a Derby Pie. Because I want to be Southern like that.

I want to look up Nora Ephron plays. There’s a play she said she wrote but that wasn’t published.
I want to read it. Speaking of my imaginary best friend—this morning we spoke about Teflon and anti-egg white omelets. I love her more and more each time we talk. Thankfully she feels the same way, so there’s no awkward friendship chase. What can I say? Nora Ephron and I are total besties, especially considering how much we both despise that word.

I am obsessed with crustless pumpkin pie. I just devoured the center, the entire filling, using only my finger. Right now I’m staring at the remaining pie shell wondering if I should bake something new into it, call it “Double Unsanitary Pie.” I bet I could make a fast filling with my vita-mix.

I have to get over these cedar fever allergies I picked up when I was back in Austin. It’s strange, although I’m here in Florida now, this week, today, I still feel like I’m in Austin, still think when I get in my car, I can jet over to Central Market, that I can still call friends at the very last minute with a text inviting them to meet me for drinks and a movie in fifteen minutes at Alamo Drafthouse.

What I miss most about Austin are the people. They’re all so different, unique, easy. If however, I grew up in Texas, I’d probably prefer different, wouldn’t much mind living in Boca Raton, where people dress to be seen. I dress to keep my food down. The homogeneousness is killing me… almost in a good way though, because now I’m motivated to get back to work.

This list is an extension of an earlier post, where I promised to post such a list. So, here it is, my TOTALLY WORTH IT LIST (aka a list of things I’m glad I bought before marriage and babies, when in some cases spending this much would be out of the question… or at the very least a guilt-ridden hide-the-bags fest).

Crate & Barrel Steamer Bar

KitchenAid Mixer
My Steamer Bar
Schweitzer Linens
Every last Hermes Scarf
My cropped white Hudson Jeans
My AG Jeans in “The Fringe” style
My elliptical machine
West Elm Bookshelf
Nikon Lenses
Wusthof Knives
All-Clad Stainless
Really good blowdryer
Fleur de the Rose Bulgare perfume by Creed
Burberry Poncho
An assortment of Purple Label cableknit cashmeres
Celine Black Bag
Intermix black trench coat
Anya Hindmarch Pony Bag
Takashamaya Robe
Black Catherine Malandrino dress
My really good laptop bag that doubles as a… really good bag, period.
RLX Polo sport jacket that makes me feel all mission possible
TJMaxx Special: Ralph Lauren heavy crystal plaid tumblers & barware

Look around your life. What do you STILL get a thrill from having? Orgasms, for the most part, are free, so they don’t count.

Recent purchases I can’t imagine won’t make the list years from now:

Hands down, my holy-shite this is awesome VITAMIX (love love love for velvet soup textures, phenomenal cocktails with that same texture as frozen margarita machines, and smoothies, ice cream, chopped onions!)
Diamond Earrings
The softest lambskin black bag ever
A Gorban painting
My Breville Oven (3 people have slept at my house, left, and ran out to buy one)
And a shitpile of cookbooks
Really good baking pans (Chicago Metallic)
Olio Santo (my favorite olive oil)
Silouette Machine
Much of my MJ Trimming Ribbon collection

NOT WORTH IT
Creams. Any of them. I’d like to be convinced otherwise
La Perla
Leather pants from Scoop
Burberry Coat
The Blahniks, any of them
Any knockoff ever
Wow, not a single pair of shoes, not even my favs

I think it’s surprising what we think will bring us happiness and what actually does. People say that objects don’t give us happiness that lasts, and I’d agree, for the most part. But I will say that some things, actual things, do make us smile daily, leave us feeling confident, pretty, taken care of. And if you can find those things, if they still make you feel, years later, they’re worth keeping. It’s how I feel, most, about my cookbooks and cooking equipment. They are my favorite things.

Swingers Without Music
So, is it just me, or have you heard that Woodfield CC is full of crazy. I’m thrilled to be there, don’t get me wrong. I love me crazy-long-time. Despite the fact that half of Plainview and almost all of Long Island reside there, I hear it’s full of swingers. Yes, we’re talking (golf cart) key parties. This gonna be crazy, son.

It’s all about respect
You know that once you get going it’s easy. Very easy. But to really start is a fcuking nightmare. So, you say, “I am going to suffer for three days. Period.” And you commit to write down every single thing you eat—no excuse, even if it’s just a SINGLE BITE of something. Because after you’ve respected yourself (that is, kept your word to yourself), you will feel 100% committed. That’s the key. Because then you want to be good. You want to be lean and strong.

Two other things I tell myself:
1. This bite that you love soooo much is going to taste exactly the same the whole way through. So, you can savor this single bite or eat the entire thing, but it will continue to taste the same—what’s the point in that?

2. Do I want to eat you? Gee, do I love the word balls? Thought so. Fact is, I fcuking love you and want to push your babies out of my ladybits. But, sadly, my body thinks you’re a hairy-nut-finding asshole. So, I choose not to go there. This time.

And, yes. I have long potty-mouth discussions with myself.

Liquid Lunch & Liquid In General
I’m going to NORTH in the domain for lunch with Jen (from Savannah). 
Also, kids go into the pool today with clothes and shoes on!

School Is Cool, BabyFishMouth
Got all your photos and video. I cannot tell anything about these schools, in spite of the footage, unless I go myself. I also think we should do a tour of a Montessori school (or two–since they are all different). And, no, seeing Montessori schools isn’t a waste, so long as ours aren’t the oldest kids in each of their classes—that is, we’d want our 4-year-old pre-K kiddos mixed in with 5 / 6-year-old kindergarteners.  

As for a response to your, “Weren’t you the one who said Montessori for only age 4 was a waste? Not sure what our goal is here or if there really is. Bad choice. JCC may be too far but should check out”…

Our goal is to find a school that feels “right” to us. And yes, that we can afford. I think differently than you do and process things differently. I appreciate your logical thinking, also. Together with my instinctual “knowing/feeling” and your own crisp process, I’m sure we’ll find the perfect school for our string beans. B’nai Israel is one option, despite the super-Jew factor and the prison / parent drop-off only (parents cannot go into the school to pickup their taters? You’re right, we’re so spoiled in Austin!).  Also, must take kids fishing! 

Code Brown
Swim lessons cancelled today due to CODE BROWN. Yes, it’s what you think it is.

Operation Movie-Hop, Fail
Phil’s gone an entire week, down in Florida, and what do I have to show for it? Did I go boozing it up? No. Make the most of this live music destination? Negativo. Spend the day hopping through movies, in particular BRIDESMAIDS, which I’m desperate to see? No. I am a horrendous failure. A failure with a clean closet and a few TJ MAX receipts. What, like you don’t need huggable hangers? Pahleeze. 

In My 20s In My 30s
That’s right, down 27 lbs. So, shut it about my tub of Rocky Road ice cream. That delectable confection is everyone’s friend. That’s right, so back off, and stop giving me shit every time I make you stop (read: stalk) Baskin’ Robbins.

From Miss to Bliss
I’m sad we’re missing Heather’s wedding. I miss her laugh. And how much she loves babies. She’ll be knocked up soon enough, and now I can’t tell her guppies I witnessed the union of Sir Dork Lord and Miss Wit. I am so happy for her. Or, rather, I’m happy for him, for snagging such a fine fem. Still wish we could’ve made it. Must head to Dallas and offer them copious amounts of hooch before annihilating them in Upwords (Heather gets confused when her Scrabble gets all scrabbled on her).

The Smoke Monster
There is some kind of animal outside our bedroom that sounds like a rattle. It obviously isn’t a rattlesnake because it’s loud, like annoying mockingbird, need a gun, loud. It sounds exactly like the Smoke Monster from LOST. It’s actually kinda comforting now that I think on it. Goodnight, Jacob. Also, I haven’t smoked anything.

To Go Or Not To Go… To Israel
We really need to talk about August and whether or not I’m going to Israel on this StandWithUs “Once in a Lifetime 2.0″ project. I’d 100% say yes if we weren’t moving to another state. Still, maybe I should just go. It’s only 10 days, and they’ll take me from the Golan Heights in the north through Haifa, Tel Aviv, and Jerusalem to the Dead Sea. Should I be as worried as I am about safety?

Sent Mail Explosion Ends *Here.*

Random thoughts today:

I loved, no adored, meeting 3 Teens’ Mom. It felt as if we’d picked up where we’d left off, only we’d never met before. You know, aside from in the “comment room” of this Greek Tragedy blog. She was so much younger than I’d imagined. Soulful and comforting, mama wise, I already knew. What I didn’t: that she has a sugary girlish voice and is as pretty as a picture. It’s just so lovely when you connect with someone, someone you know will leave the light on for you, who’s in your corner, no matter what. MEET. Yes, upon meeting you just know that you’d be there for each other. That’s how it felt. That, and I really want to be her dating guru.

I hate J.Crew, but am willing to be woo’d. That summer catalog better hurry up and put on some lipstick.

I am very excited that my weight is back in the 130′s again.

Tonight I’m eating dinner at Chef David Bull’s Second Bar + Kitchen. Really looking forward to it after hearing a few friends rave (also love my friend Jodi’s write-up). Fried pickles really are your friend. Before moving to TexAss, I’d have winced at the thought. Really? Yes’m. You break through the batter, a crisp golden-fried wall, then you run into a toothsome pickle, as happy as a cucumber. Spears of fried pickles, served with a trough of ranch dressing, are, quite simply, hog-heaven in the making.

Last week, I had Bill Norris Fever (the bartender who used to Bee Sting it at Fino), and headed to Haddington’s, a new favorite. Though, not the gastropub go-to when you’re trying to stretch your Weight Watchers points. Hello stack of onion rings the size of an ostrich egg. Though it’s the happening place to hit for a perfectly genteel drink dressed in salacious clothing. Everyone should learn how to make drinks the way they do at Haddington’s. Plus, I hear from my friend Kristi that the brunch is remarkable.

After dinner tonight, we’re bringing Phil’s parents to The Broken Spoke. It’s what it sounds like. Men in cowboy hats ask for your hand, give you a turn around the wooden dance floor, then return you proper to your seat and thank you kindly for the dance. It’s how it’s done. No ulterior motives, just an old school two-steppin’ joint with a wooden wagon-wheel out front. Seeing that wagon-wheel makes me think of Jess (Bruno Kirby) and Marie (Carrie Fisher) and their argument about good taste. This much I know for sure: bad taste is good anytime you’re in an establishment that can fall into the Honkey-tonk category. Raise your long-neck beer to that. We’re arriving early for dance lessons, ’cause this New Yorker dances like she’s broken. Really, the Girl Scouts should make a patch for this kind of thing—and it should come with a blister shield. View photos from the last time I tried to dance.

Last on my mind is work. Really it’s top of mind, but I’ve just pulled into Procrastination Station. I’m working on a reality TV show pitch in the relationship space, combing through my dating + mating archives, swimming in the world of insecurity and frustration that was my dating life.

With Kids, Hit Up Serendipity III : The Foot Long Hot Dog

Being asked, “If you could eat ANYWHERE in New York, where would you go?” is like asking me to plan a dream vacation. My mind slips into a state of bliss, a place superior to dreaming, and I begin to hopscotch my way across the city, touching off at the sweetest spots, for things as simple as cocoa and as complex as a twice baked upside-down Comté soufflé. So when a friend posed this question to a sea of Facebook friends, I felt it was my duty to step in and set things straight.

From her friends, she received the following recommendations:

“Lupa, Gramercy Tavern, Blue Hill, Lincoln, Peter Lugers.”
“Abc kitchen will not disappoint!!! Also, brown cafe on the lower east side- yummy!”
“Hotel griffou. My new best ever.”
“Luna Piena on the east side or Asia de Cuba”
“I’ll agree about Hotel Griffou and it’s nice to have a drink before or after in the bar area. Also Da Silvano, Morandi or Lupa for Italian, Old Homestead for Steaks.”
“Da Silvano is still my favorite! Bar Pitti, Il Buco, Little Owl, Blue Ribbon and Prune are all great too!”
“Shake Shack!”

Then another question popped into the conversation, revealing that the diner in question would be eating with his lawyers and wanted an “awesome restaurant he hasn’t been to.” And all I’m thinking is Shake Shack?! Look at the cow jump over the over-rated loon.

Here is where I elbowed my way into the conversation: Literally, this is what I wrote on facebook

I am a foodie. I know my shit. And these Facebook friends of yours, and this is said with love, have no idea what the concept of “anywhere” is. Gramercy Tavern is good for lunch, in the bar area. Sit at the bar, even better.

At Lupa you’ll basically get “country” Italian, like a lamb shank that kinda melts away in your mouth, but it’s nowhere I’d send someone.

Asia de Cuba is outdated; not even a consideration.

I haven’t been to Hotel Griffou.

Da Silvano is a no. Know why? It’s not special. It’s casual. It’s not memorable (sorry, but I’ve been several times and I can’t remember what we ordered, only that I sat beside Dr. Phil).

Also, sorry, but Little Owl and Prune are a poor man’s special. Little Owl is great for cocktails, though.

Blue Ribbon, however, is consistently good.

I would go to Balthazar for breakfast or brunch (goat cheese onion tart, or eggs with soldiers for breakfast).

The Meatball Shop for lunch (Thank you Carole for the tip about the homemade ice cream sandwiches), but it’s on Stanton Street, which is a hike and a half.

Where would I, personally, go if I could go anywhere when someone else is paying? Anything by Alain Ducasse. I’d try Benoit or Adour Alain Ducasse at the St. Regis hotel. Also, you can never, ever go wrong with Gotham Bar & Grill. It’s an old standby.

Anything by Joel Robuchon, namely, L’Atelier at The Four Seasons.

Or if he wants chic, hip, people watching, Minetta Tavern. And if he’s jonesing for Italian, he should consider Danny M’s new Maialino at Gramercy Park Hotel or Sorella on Allan St.

And, if anyone suggests Má Pêche, they’re not insane, but they’re not on the mark, either. You don’t go there if you’re looking for an “anywhere meal.”

The restaurants I’d most like to go, personally, are Sho Shaun Hergatt and Aldea (I haven’t been to either yet). Stuck up rant over. Smooches.

Notes from my bathroom:

Phil is addicted to the Sittin’ On The Toilet video on YouTube, to the point where he’ll just say it in random conversations.

“So, what else do we need from the store? I’m making the list. Eggs, milk, sittin’ on the toilet, what else?”

It’s now in my head, always. Now I want to go watch the video. Again. Like I’m not chunky enough, I’m going to spend what little free time I do have watching someone else sitting, on a toilet, no less.

Here you go:

Notes from my bathroom, continued… Time to ramp up, but there’s so much to do! Coordinated pretty tabletop
A fun project for the kids to do (researching it, organizing it, setting it up, executing)
Stocking stuffers
A delicious meal that’s memorable
Work on food photography set up, something that could double as a studio backdrop for us to pose in our coordinated xmas pajamas (Phil has already said no way)

Sweet Spot Morning Pages

Ask me if I can execute any of this
Even with the help of a GTD program (Getting Things Done). I want to make sugar cookies with the kids, to decorate beautiful cookies to hang on a separate kids’ tree. I want to shower. But you know what I’ve learned? You can talk and plan and make to-do lists all you want, but enough is enough. You have to DO these things. You have to start your goddamn book proposal. What is stopping you? I haven’t started it yet. Why? Because I worry about the structure. Bullshit. Because it’s more fun to obsess over party details than to actually work. It’s more fun to make cookie dough and spend half a day trying to track down crepe paper (at hobby lobby) in which to wrap the dough… and who cares? I mean, it’s a pretty photo on the blog, sure. But the receiving end, who is it even that would appreciate it? You’re not going to airmail it. You don’t even really have anyone to give it to. Lacey. Wendy, but Wendy will just say, you’re totally making me feel like a slacker mom… and I want to tell her that I am too. Except I have dreams, big dreams of being a fun hostess who can design a tablescape, manage to see friends, manage to FIT into her clothes, who can enrich her children with montessouri-esque projects, designed to help foster leadership, speaking up, balance and fine motor skills. I want to read more to my children. Add to my list of shit to get done open the link my dad sent to a video of a guy raising a hummingbird.

Habits. They’re so close but so far away. I mean, we all want to create new habits. “I want to lose ten pounds” is just a bunch of habits, sometimes itty bitty ones. According to Martha Beck, it takes four days for people to feel a taste of success and to feel encouraged to continue. What habit are you willing to create for four days, and to really stick to? I want to do too much, to write about the kids, what they’re doing, the things they’re saying, so I don’t forget. But that feels like a HUGE habit to work in. It would have to be done every night before bedtime, the very last thing I do. Keep a dream journal. Walk on the treadmill with laptop surfing. Do my morning pages again. There is too much to do. And in the end, which of it matters most? How do I prioritize it? How do I know what can slide, what shouldn’t? There are things that when done give me a sense of calm and peace and giddiness… these are things like baking holiday cookies, decorating some with the kids, letting them help in the kitchen, and making doughs to give as gifts. But, I haven’t made the dough yet, and I can only think of two, maybe 3 friends who’d appreciate the gift of gourmet cookie dough. Damn my gluten-free friends. Flourless cookies suck.

I want to create the following habits:
Write everything I eat down. Everything. I do too much unintentional grazing. This used to be a daily habit! I did this for months and months, lost tons of weight, then stopped. Need to create this livable habit again. Especially since it’s so easy.

Reading a play, script, or book instead of non-watching TV. You know, when you’re doing non-work on the computer while Phil watches TV, where you’re non-watching while he watches? Well, lady, your life will feel way more satisfying if you spent that time on a chaise or gliding chair, listening to piano music, something without lyrics, as you read. Your brain needs food, woman. So does your creativity. Feed it wholesome words in lieu of submissive watching.

Letter writing of any kind. I’ve stopped writing emails to friends because I’ve stopped seeing friends in person. Why am I such a recluse? How nice was it that Rebbecca stopped by yesterday just to say hello and bring me some holiday calories? Still, this will never be a habit I willfully make happen. It doesn’t matter to me enough.

Back to my morning pages. 3 pages, longhand, with a pen, in a notebook. No excuses. And artist dates. Again. On either Tuesday or Thursday night. That’s my date night with me.

Drinking water. I used to get those ginormous big gulp cups and fill them with ice water and a splash of lemonaide. Drank two a day without thinking. I need to hydrate more, so I can have more notes from my bathroom sessions.