Do The Rights Thing

What a busy week!  There's so much ground to cover I hardly know where to start.  Two dinner parties, the Yankees winning the World Series, and some election news.  I'll try to keep it brief, but if you've been here before, you know that 's not necessarily my defining characteristic.

Monday night I finally kept a long-ago promise to Marcelene and invited her over for ribs.  It was a promise made near the end of the summer when it was still convenient to grill outside.  Now, I adore Marcelene, but it's in the 40s and low 50s at night this time of year.  Barbecuing is not an option without risking permanent damage to some of my favorite body parts.

I consider using the indoor grill, then - as I'm making the barbecue sauce, which I planned to brush on the ribs - I decide to cook the ribs right in the sauce until they're fall-off-the-bone tender.  I used the same barbecue sauce I made last Saturday, this time adding a little more Asian chili garlic sauce and some more Cayenne to give it a little heat.  Well, I left those ribs in that sauce for 8 hours on low, and they were delicious.  Some butternut squash puree completed a simple dinner set against the background of the Yankee losing Game 5 of the series (didn’t we all know it was going to take 6, and that they’d want to win in NYC?  More fun that way.)

Now, running the risk of having you think I'm a hack in the kitchen (an opinion my husband teases me about having) I will tell you that I made the same sauce AGAIN for our dinner party on Wednesday.  I had been dying to recreate that pork tenderloin I had in Tucson (yes, it was THAT good) and decided to run the risk of consuming so much pork in a single week, that they might not let me be a Jew anymore.  

We had our friends Mark and Todd over to dinner again, thanking them for their hospitality in having us to their East Hampton home a few weeks ago, as well as our friend Mike who was also on the cruise with us.  And really, what's a better metaphor at a gay cruise reunion than a big slab of pork?

I served a butternut squash and apple soup that appeared in the New York Times this week, and was a last minute inspiration, along with a sweet potato puree and some tarragon peas (one bag frozen peas, 1/2 cup water, 1 tbsp butter, 1 cup chopped tarragon.  Throw it all in a sauce pan, heat until the water boils, and simmer for 5 minutes.)

But this posting really isn’t about food this week.  Or even about the Yankees – who won not because they bought themselves a roster of individual talent, but because, for the first time in nearly a decade, they played like a team.  Didn’t they look like they were having fun?  Didn’t they show some character? Say what you will about the Bronx Bombers, but they haven’t been this much fun to watch since the late 70s.

Something that was a lot less fun to watch was Tuesday’s election returns.  It is actually a little too reminiscent of the late 70s: unemployment is high, state and local governments are teetering on the edge of fiscal ruin, and the Democrats seem to have abdicated the responsibility of governing.

In the interest of being open, I will admit that I was never a strong Obama supporter.  I campaigned and voted for Hillary Clinton during the primaries, believing that the concept of a “new kind of politics” was chimerical.  The majority of Americans may be independents, but the composition of our Congress becomes more and more polarized every year.  Less and less are our representatives working together on the issues that matter to most Americans, and the fight for the middle is less about finding moderate solutions, but a war between two distinct alternatives with the winner being the side that best frames and sells his story to enough folks in the political center.  Often, Independents and Moderates, with a few notable exceptions, aren’t choosing between ideas they love or which represent their political philosophy – they’re picking the one that comes closest or the one they like a little better or the one they hate the least. 

I lived through the culture wars of the 80s and 90s, and the demonization of the last Democratic President (whose failure to achieve more was, admittedly, caused as much by his own failings as it was by the forces that sought to bring him down.)  While I would love to believe in a new kind of politics, and while I believe most Americans crave it, I don’t think it’s realistic.  Our system was designed to be adversarial – at its best, it was designed to produce the best possible outcomes by forcing different perspectives to reach a compromise and achieve statesmanship in the interest of as many Americans as possible.  At its worst, its become political theater – which is what we have today.  Politics has become like rooting for a sports team; my guys are good, your guys are bad, and I will stick to my position – blindly if need be. 

This may be unfortunate and undesirable, but it’s also what we’ve got, and I always believed Hillary understood that governing was more about winning endless rounds of hand-to-hand combat than Obama ever did. 

Nonetheless, when he won the nomination I got on board, rewarding the intention even if skeptical about the ability to achieve it, and getting caught up in the history of the moment.  Also, I believed that his approach to policy and governing would focus on delivering real change.

I don’t believe that anymore.  I still want to; I still have hopes for the administration’s agenda.  But I’m angry – and so are a lot of other people.

Tuesday night’s election results were about a lot of things.  Incumbents did poorly.  The incumbent governor of New Jersey lost, the incumbent mayor of New York City – extremely popular with high approval ratings – saw his blowout turn into a squeaker, the incumbent party in Virginia got thrown out, losing the statehouse to someone who – at age 34 – wrote some of the ugliest things about women, blacks and gays that may have ever been written in an academic document.  (Of course, he was helped by the fact that his opponent needed a mirror held under his nose to determine if he was still, in fact, alive.)  Even New York’s 23^rd Congressional District flipped – going Democratic for the first time since 1872.

And here’s my first point: setting aside talk about which party “won,” when incumbents lose it’s because people are angry.  They want change and they take it out on whoever’s in power, either by voting against them or staying home in enough numbers to have the same effect. 

It is worth noting that people voted – overwhelmingly – in 2008 for change.  Huge swings by modern standards in the Senate and House, a lopsided electoral college victory for the President, helped – in no small amount – by people who weren’t voting for him enthusiastically, but against the party in power who had squandered our surpluses, abused our military, ruined our economy and lied to our citizens.

In so many ways, Obama’s slogan was perfect for the election of 2008 – it wasn’t just about Change, it was about Hope.  Faith that taking a flier on something new would get different results.

And instead we have the same Wall Streeters regulating Wall Street, the same lopsided balance of power between corporate interests and individual rights, and the same entrenched divisions in our government.

That’s the second point: a lot of Obama voters and a lot of Obama supporters, even those still giving him that 54% approval rating, stayed home on Tuesday.  Left-leaning independents and democrats aren’t racing out to support a party that isn’t delivering what it promised.  The overtures to bipartisanship were nice, but the Republican Party has decided they’d rather stymie the agenda than take part – and that’s fine, as long as the Democrats move forward with or without them.  Continued efforts are futile: I don’t this country is ready to have the full scope of federal power wielded by two middle-aged women from Maine. 

Don’t get me wrong, it’s not as if there isn’t diversity among the Republicans in Congress (even if they are – almost exclusively – white protestant men over the age of 40.)  But during the Bush administration, that party stuck together no matter what.  I’d rather the Democrats worked out their issues behind closed doors, then came forward as one.

You know, I may not have agreed with a lot of what George W Bush did, but it’s easy to admire someone who lead with a vision and tried to pull the middle with him.  Those tax cuts were wasteful and the war in Iraq was an expensive distraction, sold with untruths, fought on the cheap and motivated by the most ruinous Oedipal complex ever witnessed globally.  But he wanted it, he was uncomprising, and his party stood behind him.  And Democrats were so afraid of the political price of dissent that half of them got on board.  It was only in Bush’s second term, when his party couldn’t support his domestic agenda on Social Security and Immigration that they abandoned him.  Even that is significant – they didn’t splinter, they split.  With us or against us, but not eight hundred different nitpickers tinkering around the edges of supporting something generally, but only with this program or that caveat.

It is time for this President to lead.  The Democrats are dangerously close to becoming the party of splitting the difference.  Their vision of governing needs to evolve from, “the selection of things we can get from the things we really want” to “the things America needs.”

In a fabulous book, Applebee’s America, co-written by Doug Sosnik, Ron Fournier, and Matthew Dowd, the authors explore why certain people, institutions and brands resonate with Americans and why.  Those that reach a tipping point make a Gut Values Connection with the public.  Obama made that connection – he appealed to, in his words, “our better angels” and our hope for, if not a “purple” America, a better America. 

The authors argue that politicians like Clinton and Bush saw their fortunes fall when they broke that connection, Clinton in lying about Monica Lewinsky, Bush in lying about Iraq.  Obama, if he doesn’t begin to govern with the same leadership and principles with which he campaigned, will risk breaking that connection.  People would rather see him take a stand and fail (and would likely punish Congress for standing in his way) than see him calculate success opportunistically.

Finally, I need to say something about Maine (especially since I just maligned their talented and responsible Senators a few paragraphs ago.  And I actually really think Susan Collins and Olympia Snowe have shown more political courage in the last decade than virtually any other members of Congress.)

The repeal of a legislatively-approved, Governor-signed law granting same-sex couples the right to marry was a shameful embarrassment. 

First – to my brothers and sisters in the gay community.  It’s time for a different kind of action.  I’m cool with the sepia-toned photos of two lesbians playing Frisbee with a kid, and two guys in tuxes sharing the story of how they fell in love 20 years ago while antiquing a lamp.  I’m cool with the emotional appeal of “who’s going to raise my daughter if something happens to my wife?” or “what if I can’t visit Freddy in the hospital?”  But we need to tear a page from AIPAC and start fighting this battle with our wallets.

Gays wield an unbelievable strong economic power and we’re wasting it.  So here’s my advice:

Before you send your money to HRC.

Before you send your money to GLAAD.

Before you send your money to the DNC and democratic candidates for office.

Before you spend your money on luxury crap.

Ask yourself this:

All those companies that advertise in Out, and the Advocate, and GQ, and Details, and all the magazines we’re reading on airplanes to Palm Springs and beaches on the Cape – what are they doing?  Is it fair for you to refuse to spend your money with companies if they don’t add the weight of their political power to our fight?  When was the last time a corporation advocated, or threatened to withhold its contributions, form a candidate unless that candidate supported the civil rights of its customers?  Don’t you have the right to demand that the companies who want your money so badly take a stand for your civil rights?

All those politicians we support with fundraisers and contributions and votes.  What are they doing?  I’ve got to tell you.  I don’t care if staying home means a vote for the other guys.  We survived eight years of George Bush, six of them with a Republican Congress, and lived to tell the tale.  It’s worth noting that AIDS funding increased under the Bush administration and same-sex marriage became a political reality during his tenure. 

I’m not casting anymore “better than the other guy on gay rights” votes anymore.  You either support full equality or I’m staying home.  Hell, maybe I’ll even vote for the other guy.  My taxes will go down.

It is absolutely unconscionable that gay civil rights is still the stepchild of the democratic agenda, the issue that gets thrown under the bus so some wimpy white guy can look tough to the boys.  Saying that you support gay rights but only believe in “traditional” marriage shouldn’t be any more acceptable than saying you’re against race discrimination as long as they don’t marry white people. 

And you know something – don’t talk to me about all the other issues that will suffer if democrats lose power.  Pay inequities for women, racial bias and affirmative action, reproductive choice.  You wouldn’t expect me to support a politician that stands against those issues any more than I expect you to support only those politicians who full-throatedly support marriage and civil equality for gays and lesbians.

Which is my last point.  This issue would move if more leaders stood for it.  So many politicians are so afraid of the political consequences of saying what I think they truly believe - that it’s nothing more or less than bigotry to prevent gays from marrying – that they fail to realize that their half-measures are part of the problem, not the solution.

It’s worth remembering this: any legal historian will tell you that the pre-Civil War journey of American politics was a movement from status to contract; from the rights of people based on who they were, to the ability to freely contract among ourselves.  In post-Civil War America, the movement has been from Freedom to Equality: ever closer to equal rights for all.  The guiding principle, in fact the founding principle of this country, has been about protecting the minority from the tyranny of a majority.  It’s why we have two house of Congress, it’s why they’re structured as they are, it’s why we have courts, it’s why we have three branches of government.

The ballot initiative process has a lot to recommend about it, but the degree to which it can be used to take rights away from people is shameful.  And any measure that attempts to take rights away, regardless of its substance, should be voted down on principle.

Integrating the military, miscegenation laws – this country has a long history of majorities doing the wrong thing.  Today you may be taking away my right to marry.  Tomorrow it maybe about you.

God help you then. 

Because I won’t.

And on a lighter note: gay marriages can be fun.  Just ask Liza Minelli.

Pull Your Own Pork

For a change, I've decided to write a post while watching food-related television.  I'm just wrapping up an episode of The Next Iron Chef (America), which - on first viewing - comes off as the unholy love child of Top Chef and The Next Food Network Star.  I can't tell you if I'm hooked yet, but I can tell you that Alton Brown is looking really gaunt.  Isn't this the Food Network? Isn't he in moderate proximity to, umm, FOOD?  Eat some of it.

His face has more leftover skin than the deep fryer at a KFC.

(FYI: Alton hosts.  The judges include some chick I've never seen or heard of (the website says it's Anya Fernald - but I don't know who that is), Jeffrey Steingarten - that queeny, fussy guy who judges Iron Chef America (not a judgment.  I, too, can be queeny and fussy,) and Donatella Arpaia, who has created some of my favorite New York restaurants - Mia Dona, davidburke and Donatella, Bellini.  She's totally cool, though she's at risk of becoming known as the black widow of the New York restaurant scene for partnering with extremely talented male chefs, creating multi-star restaurants, then ending the relationship.  She's done it twice in five years (David Burke and Michael Psilakis) and she's showing no sign of slowing down.)

I'm rooting for Amanda Freitag, whose restaurant, The Harrison, is one of my favorites.

Friday night we at a local restaurant called Citrus, which bills itself as offering Latin fare with an Asian flair.  As far as I can tell, that means that they serve sushi and tortilla chips in the same restaurant.  Other than the sushi there isn't much Asian flair, and I'm not sure where butternut squash soup or spaghetti and meatballs fit into either cuisine.  Still, the food is pretty good, so whatever ethnicity they want to claim is fine with me. (Here is where I should explain that my mother is adopted and has, at times, speculated about possibly being Italian, Spanish, and a range of Latin American options - to the point where she once encouraged me to select "Hispanic" on a law school application.  I did not.  But I am OK with claiming any heritage you want as long as it's not dancing the ethical line of a resume or college application.)

My non-Latin, non-Asian butternut squash soup was non-delicious.  (At least it wasn't non-hot, my pet peeve.)  It was bland, with little discernible flavor other than an underlying sweetness.  However, my roasted half Chicken in natural jus (also neither Latin nor Asian), was delicious.  Crispy skin, juicy and tender meat, well-seasoned and served with garlic mashed potatoes and vegetables.  Neil had their chopped salad and a quesadilla (finally, some Latin fare) which he characterized as "just OK."

I kicked off Saturday at Equinox 19th Street, taking a cycling class with Shaina.  I've known her since she started at Equinox and her classes are terrific.  She's got a background in exercise physiology and her classes use a technique called periodization - periods of intensity followed by active recovery, resulting in greater strength and endurance.  Her classes are terrific, balancing intervals, hills and speed work, and Shaina has fantastic energy ("You can do ANYTHING for FIFTEEN SECONDS!"  I am fairly certain she'd feel differently if she'd experienced waterboarding.  Or a Brazilian Wax.  Not that I know.)

Plus, her music is great, which is saying a lot at Equinox.  During my last workout I noticed that the nearly three month marathon of Taylor Swift's "Love Story" had been supplanted by "Walk This Way." Having sweat most of my bodily fluids on the cycling room floor, I needed to refresh and replenish.  With a cheeseburger.

I called Neil and agreed to meet him in the West Village.  I walked over and was about to sit down with my newspaper, when I heard a cheerful voice call out my name.

Those of you who've been reading this blog for a while now know that I am not describing my husband.

You know how there are some people who you simply can't stand, no matter how nice they are?  Neil made a friend at the gym several months ago - a very friendly, nice-looking European guy whom I find irrevocably irritating.  He's unfailingly charming and polite, always saying hello and making small talk - but he has an overly gallant and theatrical manner that I find off-putting; his voice a cross between Julia Child and Hercule Poirot.  I realize this is unkind and says more about me than it does him, and I'm ok with that.  I can live with not wanting to be greeted like I'm the Queen of England.

The truth is I was also having a pretty bad weekend.  I knew that this career change was going to have its ups and downs, and include periods of rejection along with a feeling of being unmoored due to the lack of structure.  However, the past few days have been particularly difficult - William Morris Endeavor passed on representing me, which was not unexpected nor surprising - an audition and callback didn't lead to further interest, and I was beginning to feel frustrated by the effort of getting more on-camera experience, making contacts, developing and pitching my shows, all while trying to run my consulting practice.  I was starting to become nostalgic for my airless, exhausting, lucrative former career and just wanted to sit with the advance sections of the Sunday paper - Real Estate, Travel - and dream about the things we used to spend money on; the spoils of a corporate life that balm the barren soul.

Instead, I was now forced into ritual politeness as I make small talk about my husband (on his way), the weather (awful rain, but better than last weekend's unseasonable cold) and recent headlines (yes, it is frightening in a post-9/11 world that 2 pilots could lose radio contact for 500 miles, overshoot the airport by 150, and there be no obvious military deployment or other activity.)  Finally freed from social convention, we say good bye and a few minutes later Neil shows up (I'm not entirely convinced he wasn't hiding just around the corner, eager to avoid the loquacity.)

We head to Bill's Bar & Burger in the space that was formerly The Hog Pit in the Meatpacking District, and it's here where I need to pause for a little detour.

I know I've written a great deal about the repurposing of comfort food as trendy cuisine.  I'm sorry, but as much as I like meatloaf now, I don't need to pay $20 for the same meal that my mother - and her whole generation - made because it only cost $5 to feed an entire family of four, and that included the valium you needed to slip your kids to prevent them from having a tantrum when they sat down to meatloaf.  Mac'n'cheese, burgers, cupcakes, that Peanut Butter & Co. on Sullivan Street, now fried chicken - we've reinvented an entire category of higher-end dining with casual dining entrees suited to the palette of a seven year old.  What's next?  Fish sticks?  Tuna Casserole?  If some restaurant tried to charge me $8 for a dessert of Jell-O, we're through.

Bill's, however, gets my thumbs up - despite venturing into the burger genre and doing so this late in the game.  Why?  Three reasons:

1.  The prices.  The burgers are in the $6 range, a great improvement over the $11-20+ category that has become pervasive.   A basket of fries is $3.50 and is large enough for 2 regular people or 6 gay men.  Neil and I shared them, with plenty left over.

2.  The quality.  The menu is simple - burgers, chicken sandwich, fish sandwich, hot dog.  A handful of sides, soda, beer and milkshakes.  (That sentence can, and should, be read two ways.  They have beer and they have milkshakes, but they also have beer-and-milk shakes; a stout with a vanilla ice cream float among them.  Ew.)  My burger was well-cooked and well-seasoned (a miracle in a city where so many burgers taste like nothing other than what you put on them; at Bill's the meat has flavor.)  The fries were delicious - warm and salty with a crispy outside but a soft inside; neither limp nor crunchy.

3.  They have American cheese.  Why is this so hard?  So many burger places will offer you cheddar, swiss, bleu - even Gruyere and jack - but very few offer American.  Isn't that the definition of a cheeseburger?

Stuffed and tired, and in no mood to wander through the rain, we decide to hide out in a move theater.  We head over to Union Square to check out the Chris Rock documentary, Good Hair.  Inspired by his daughter's complaint of having "bad" hair, the documentary explores the social and cultural forces impacting African-American women's hair - the products and stylists, the wigs and weaves - folding in the personal experiences of several prominent black women and a 60 year old hair show in Atlanta which includes a styling competition.  It was interesting to learn how much the industry serving African-American women is dominated by east Asian manufacturers and south Asian wig and weave suppliers (the hair being harvested from Indian women.)  Further, the hair show comes down to two men - one African-American, one White, and both so gay the screen nearly burst in flames - but men nonetheless; the two female competitors were practically nonentities.  Thus, the movie offered an interesting, and subversive, subtext about gender, in addition to race.  See it.

After the movie, I needed some couch time with TiVo, and I began by firing up last week's episode of Melrose Place (Hi Jo Reynolds! Bye Jo Reynolds!  You've now done as much for MP2.0 as you did for the alpha version.  Poor Daphne Zuniga; they created a character with so much promise, and gave her so little to do beyond being put-upon.)  After an hour of Ashlee Simpson rolling her Cavalier King Charles Spaniel eyes (cute on a dog, weird on a pop star) at Thomas Calabro (how does he look exactly the same after 12 years?) I progress to Project Runway.

You know, Project Runway really needs to give up the farce that each elimination is solely about that week's competition.  Not that I wasn't happy to see the departure of obnoxious Nicolas with his black humor and his white, sparkly-trashy ice skating costumes.  But cute Christopher Straub has been on the bottom (a familiar position, I'm sure) for three consecutive weeks.  I could understand him surviving the first time, but the past two weeks his work has clearly been the worst, and it's apparent the judges saved him because his haute couture work in the early part of the season was so good and showed real talent and imagination.

I find a similar sin of commission over on Top Chef.  This week's episode was Restaurant Wars, the challenge done each season, generally when there are 8 chefs left (they used to do it with 6, but setting up an entire restaurant in 24 hours is nearly impossible with only three people.)  Thankfully, they've gotten rid of the requirement that the chef's decorate the restaurant.  That segment was always so awkward with the hyper-masculine chefs, accompanied by the occasional butch lesbian or clueless homo, plodding through Pier One and picking out the most tragic decorations like oversize urns (?), scented candles (Ew) and synthetic pussywillow (!).

This season saw the Dirty-Hot Michael Voltaggio, his Uptight-Hot Brother, the clumsy Mike Isabella, and possibly insane redheaded cancer survivor Robin Leventhal not just winning, but blowing the other team away.  It was a pretty bad defeat for the mousy Laurine Wickett, sweaty Eli Kirschensteinengoldenbergenbaum, bearded Leprechaun (Chefrechaun?) Kevin from Atlanta, and their captain: Bitchy Jen from Philly.  Their loss was clearly a failure of leadership and direction, but Laurine got the boot.  Not that anyone's going to miss her, and Jen has clearly been in the top four all season with the Voltaggios and the Chefrechaun.  However, make no mistake that this was a pity save.  Jen knew it, the judges knew it, the viewers knew it.

(Hee.  Chefrechaun.  That's funny.)

Having had my fill of scripted and unscripted soap opera, I head to the kitchen to prepare dinner.  I made a barbecue pork tenderloin that was so good, I have to share the recipe with you.

2 pork tenderloins
Extra Virgin Olive Oil
1 medium red onion, chopped
1-2 garlic cloves, minced
14 cup ketchup
1/4 cup +1 Tbsp ketchup-style chili sauce
asian chili garlic sauce
sriracha sauce
1 Tbsp Worcestershire sauce
2 tsp Apple Cider vinegar
ground mustard
hot paprika
kosher salt
pepper

You can make this two ways: make the sauce, then chill it.  You can then marinate the meat in it, or glaze it, before grilling it.  Alternatively, you can make the sauce then cook the pork in it, which is what I did this time.

Slice the pork crosswise into 1/4 inch thick slices; then cut each piece into three strips.  Set aside.

Heat a heavy stockpot (I use Le Creuset - it distributes the heat evenly) over medium high heat, then add olive oil - about 2 Tbsp.  When hot and sizzling, but not sputtering or spoking, add the onion and cook until translucent - about 5 minutes.  Add the garlic and cook another minute or two.  Add the ketchup, chili sauce, Worcestershire, and vinegar and stir.  Add a pinch of Kosher salt.  Stir.  After a few minutes, add about 1-2 tsp of Sriracha and 1-2 Tbsp of the asian chili garlic sauce (more if you like hot and spicy food, less if you don't).  Stir in a little ground mustard and hot paprika, along with 1/4 cup to 1/2 cup water and bring to a boil.  Reduce heat to medium, add pork, and cook for 8 minutes, then reduce heat to low.  Continue to cook for at least an hour, stirring periodically, until meat is fall-apart tender.

You can serve this on sandwich rolls, on top of potatoes, or as-is - which is how we ate it; accompanies with some wok-fired asparagus in chili garlic sauce and baked sweet potatoes (2 sweet potatoes, hand cut, sprinkled with a mixture of salt, pepper, cumin, onion powder, garlic powder and cayenne pepper, and cooked in a 425 degree over for 30 minutes, turning once.)  Slurp.

Dinner was delicious - as was dessert.  I made a crostata, adapted from the Barefoot Contessa.  I replaced her summer fruit with a mixture of Granny Smith apple, pear, cinnamon, flour, and sugar.  I also changed the topping, using quick oats ground in a food processor and using brown sugar instead of white sugar.  Otherwise, the rest of the recipe is here.

Sunday morning came bright and relatively warm, perfect for an autumn run in Central Park (no sighting of pink leopard print this time, thank the Lord.)  After a light lunch at Nanoosh - apparently this is the elusive "something fresh" Neil's been referring to - we head downtown to the Mitchell Gold + Bob Williams store for free cocktails.  Only in New York would a furniture store have a cocktail party.  Of course, only in New York would people (us and our friends) take two subways and go to the opposite corner of the city for a free drink.  They were serving champagne and Bundt cake (who did the menu? Donna Reed?)  so after an hour we went in search of a real drink. (On Sundays we sometimes go to a place called Niso's - a Greek restaurant in Chelsea where there's nary a patron eating but the bar is so packed you can barely move.)

Between the five-mile run, the champagne, and the rest of the cocktails, a home-cooked dinner was a dream long dead by 7pm, so we ordered a pizza and camped out in front of the TV. The Next Iron Chef is over and Challenge, that show where four chefs have a cake-off, turning pastry into crazy cartoon characters is on.  It's a Halloween episode, and someone is making a coffin and skeleton.  Yeah, that's what kids love: coffins.

You want to really scare those kids - make a meatloaf.

THE LAST WORD:


DO THIS, New York:


Eat a Bill's Bar & Burger

Make that BBQ Pork

See Good Hair


Watch Top Chef and Project Runway

Go for a run in Central Park

DON'T DO THIS, New York:

I'm fairly certain it's not a good idea to give kids Valium, though I won't physically stop you.

You can skip Citrus.

I'd advise you not to throw a cocktail party in a furniture store.