January 15, 2013
I’m back from California to dreary, rainy Paris.
I know. I have no right to complain. But my two-and-a-half weeks in LA really highlighted the differences between my two cities, and what I had taken for granted while living in Santa Monica. Also what I have been missing here, more than 70° weather in January.
And but so I’ve decided (not resolved; I don’t do that) to do more things like this: invite a friend over for a simple lunch of roasted chicken, perhaps pepped up a bit with spice. Because what I’ve been missing here more than anything else is a sense of community. The kinds of friends who you don’t have to make elaborate dinner plans to see. Just come over. We’ll watch some things on YouTube and drink wine and eat too much.
October 29, 2012
Like Elaine from Seinfeld, I’ve always been something of a man’s woman. I have a lot of dude friends and not too many girlfriends. In fact, I remember in first grade that my two best friends were boys. I still talk to both of them on occasion. One is an expat in Vienna and other brews beer. Apparently first-grade me knew how to pick ‘em.
But I do crave female company a lot of the time, especially here where friends are precious and few. There’s nothing quite like girl talk. There’s that ineffable quality in women, especially in gossipy one-on-one sessions, that makes me open up a little more than I am usually wont.
Ariane is one of the first friends I met after moving to Paris. She’s an artist. I have never seen her without some kind of sketchbook in her bag or in her hand.
October 5, 2012
First time I had beet salad: at Fraîche in Santa Monica during Restaurant Week.
Second time I had beet salad: last week, at my place.
Third time I had beet salad: the next morning, for breakfast.
August 16, 2012
I’ve been living the single life lately. The gentleman’s been off on a trip to the States, so it’s just me in this big ol’ apartment, typety-typing away. (Bizarrely, I buy the same amount of groceries.) There are certain advantages to the single lady life: sleeping spread-out, diagonally on the bed; watching Pride and Prejudice with dinner minus any eye-rolling. But when it comes to dinner, it’s a constant battle against that little voice in my head: “It’s just for you. You’ve got no one to cook for. And you’ve been working all day! You went for a jog! Why not just step out and get something quick to-go?”
This is one of the dishes that’s been helping me battle eating a mountain of falafel every night. Beautifully fresh salmon from the fishmonger’s or the farmer’s market (if there is one that day), marinated in soy sauce, rubbed with brown sugar and baked to rich, caramel-crusted doneness. It’s sort of teriyaki-esque, I guess? Whatever, it makes an awesome dinner with quinoa and spinach, and the pizza place and the Chinese takeout place haven’t seen me in their doorways, makeupless and hungry at midnight, so far.