courtesy of Jeff Wall
It’s a well-known truth that people always want to be what they are not. This seems especially true when it comes to hair color (if only I could pull off red!) and occupation (oh, to be an astronaut). I’ve noticed recently that every artist I’ve had the pleasure of speaking with insists their art is closer to another genre than what it seems, in a “yes, I make wood carvings, but I consider them to be paintings” kind of way.
For the day: Tom K Nguyen velvet striped blazer ($395); Diane Von Furstenburg ruffle blouse ($207); Paige black velvet jeans ($173).
I get quite a few samples of wine—and generally appreciate the wineries that send them. It helps me discover new wines and chart the progress of all the great labels I already know.
Sometimes, however, wineries tend to get a little too cute in the way they promote themselves. I understand the need to stand out in a highly competitive market, but occasionally it crosses the line from amusing to annoying. I’ve been shipped Walla Walla onions and a recipe for onion rings along with a Washington Merlot, and I’ve been sent an oversized oven mit, barbecue tongs and cheap sunglasses to go with some Napa cab.
Fresh shelling beans and pork soffritto at SPQR
A few weeks ago, in No Reservations, Jessica blogged about the latest no-reservations-taking policy that’s sweeping the city. Being a type-A sort, I’ve racked up a mighty big share of points on Opentable (even if I’ve never redeemed any of them)—so, yes, I’m all for reservations. How else can you squeeze a zillion things into a day if you have to wait two hours just to sit down to dinner?
I’m not a huge connoisseur of the buffalo wing and can’t say much of the phenomenon that catapulted that dish onto every sports bar menu in the country. But I do enjoy a well-prepared piece of chicken every now and again.
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