Nova Clutch

Gourmet's chicken pot pie with cheddar biscuit crust

I have to admit it. As I cynically flip through my mail whilst in the lift going to the 6th floor, grimacing a little at all the bills, I do get quite excited when I see that I've received Gourmet magazine. I chastise myself tacitly for this; I'm not really one for magazines, but if there's one that is done really well, why not show it the love it deserves? I actually go through the magazine with my post-it notes, marking the recipes that I want to make and then go and do a Fresh Direct order to get my ingredients. Sad, isn't it?

I got the new Gourmet on Thursday and made the potpie on Saturday. The recipe is actually for turkey potpie (it's the Thanksgiving issue) but we fancied chicken instead. Thérèse got all the ingredients as she was going up to the Cadman Plaza Farmer's Market and we whipped it up.

What I couldn't believe about this is how easy it is compared to making a normal crust from scratch. No rolling out and trying to keep the pastry dough intact as you delicately place it over the pie filling. You just dollop blobs of biscuit dough onto the hot filling and in the oven it rises and forms a steaming, fluffy biscuit crust. Such a good meal for the cold, sopping weather we have been having in New York not to mention, it's rather tasty. I shall definitely be making this again.

Surface Magazine's Avant Guardian Project: Perfect 10 Show and Party

There is nothing like a New York fashion/lifestyle magazine party. Especially at a fancy pants photo studio like Splashlight . Long lines of wannabes or assistants to those that "are somebody" standing outside striking their best devil-may-care pose as they wait to have their name checked off a list for the privilege of standing in even longer line where incompetent bar tenders throw together drinks made with the sponsor's very special vodka. By grace of God (not the same God that is currently backing the Colorado Rockies), we were special enough to bypass the crowds outside and go straight to waiting 30 minutes for a Mojito that contained no alcohol and tasted like a citrus counter cleaner.

That aside, our intentions for attending last night's Surface Magazine's 10th Annual Avant Guardian Photography Project were of a higher calling, art. Or was that commerce?

Natasha and I were very excited about seeing this year's winners as chosen by all-star lineup of judges such as photographer Rankin and GQ design director Fred Woodward. And as Surface warned us "Brace yourself: you're about to travel through time". But where in time? It wasn't the distant past were style, originality, emotion, provocation, connection and artistry defined the day. Was it back to yesterday? I hope it wasn't the future, gracious no.

Regardless, we did find some gems amongst the uninspired, competent and effect-driven photography that seemed to drive the show. Breaking from the the humdrum and haven't-I-seen-this-all-before, still life offerings by Massimo Gammacurta were not only technically superior, their composition and simple story line were refreshing step away from the meaningless fashion staging of Luke Duval and GL Wood. This can also be said for the still life compositions by Jamie Chung whose "better mouse trap" styling and exquisite lighting defy gravity and create a rich, dark scientific stage.

Where was the sense of style, originality, emotion, provocation, connection or artistry? Or the imagination and "impish" inclinations that I was promised by Surface? The closest thing I found was Jing Quek's uneasy Andreas Gursky-like montages whose flatness, staging, forced composition and silly posturing made me look time and time again to find something that I had missed before. The only other photos that even attempted to take a chance was Reed + Rader's submissions, although I fail to understand the point of the story.

Although all of these young photographers have captured images, only a few have captured my imagination, or found a place in my memory. From what I have seen, I don't think I like the future.

Making pesto for winter

It's a sad fact that I am having to admit to myself, but the summer is definitely over. It's still not cold here in New York, but the tomato plants have been cut down and the basil plants have seen sunnier days. Even the fig tree's leaves are now yellow. It's sad, but I have to admit it, it's time to start preserving like crazy.

I don't really have time these days, but the other night I came back from the gym and instead of hurriedly eating, I made pesto. That's what all people that love food are doing these days, and in fact I am probably very late in the game. Most of the basil has been hacked down and I supplemented my stock with the last bunches from the farmer's market. I didn't put any cheese in yet as I am freezing most of it, and it freezes better without. At least this way we can get the taste of summer in those never-ending winter months. Stews and slow-cooking, here I come.

D.L. & Co.

Having done a chocolate project some years back, I seem to be having trouble shaking off the moniker "chocolate lady." I guess it's better than being named after other designs I've done. I should thank my lucky stars I'm not "Pespi lady" or worse, "lighting lady."

These chocolates are rather different from any of the ones I have designed or seen lately. Silly prints abound, and the hackneyed cuteness that seems to be the mandatory mate of all confectioners is starting to really get on my nerves.

Thankfully, D.L & Co.'s modern alchemy is here. With a website Milk & Honey should be jealous of, D.L. & Co.'s goods cater to the darker, but discerning consumer. These chocolates caught my eye, and at $40 a pop (it makes sense, those must be really difficult to get out of a mold) you'll have to make sure the recipient errs on the darker side of confectionary.

(Photograph by D.L. & Co.)

Bedat & Co. and Tourneau party

The only reason we went to the Bedat & Co./Tourneau party last night was because Gilles was playing. And I think the only reason he was playing was because he was in town for the Cielo gig the previous night.

We walked into the large building on 57th Street, a large ominous ticking sound surrounded us. No, we weren't dying, this is Tourneau's go at sound branding, because the ticking reminds you that they are a timepiece behemoth. Or something like that.

Walking into a massive corporate atrium with 40+ feet ceilings, I noticed that the tiny sound coming from the corner of the space was none other than Gilles Peterson "spinning". A thin crowd (any crowd would seem thin in this kind of space) resplendent with jewels and cocktail wear ignored him as we tried to devise ways of introducing ourselves.

Soon a little speech was made and the entertainment started, none other than the brilliant Raven O Master of Ceremonies from The Box. I didn't know that Raven O and his gang ventured out of their lair, but apparently they do for a price. The burlesque and cabaret so brilliant at The Box was out of place and strange in this large atrium and low stage, and the suited crowd looked at each other out of the corner of their eyes and shifted uncomfortably in their shiny shoes. Peep shows, stripping and expletives were apparently not what they were expecting. Where as the vaudeville delights have the perfect milieu in the one hundred year old theater on Chrystie Street, in this situation it was just inappropriate and embarassing. You can take all that is cool but reappropriating it for your brand takes some thought and consideration. And sometimes, that reappropriation just doesn't work. Tourneau should consider hiring these guys next time.

I'm Blog

If you're like me, you spend too much time on Instant Messenger than you should. Remember how much work we got done before the internets? And you know you shouldn't do it, especially as irony and sarcasm really don't translate very well on it, but hey, it's still fun. Much to my unnamed friend's chagrin, I tend to keep everything that she writes down, emails and ichats included, and what you see above is an excerpt. Because anything out of context is fun.

Cue I'm Blog, where people can upload their random iChats, out of context. Yes, my one isn't as risqué as the ones shown on the site, just two friends talking about Good Reads , but perhaps I will upload some anonymously.

A Balthazar breakfast

I thought yesterday's breakfast was good. Look at we just got from Balthazar. We should have kids or something, to eat this kind of thing on our own is ridiculous. Brioches, scones (oh my God), cannelés (double that joy), Danishes (the Apricot Over-Easy is gorgeous) and cinnamon rolls. Needless to say, I have eaten way more than my fair share. These beauties are so perfectly formed, I think I may hang up my baker's hat and use my wallet instead to conjure such goodies.

Feed granola

Although we should be making our own granola, it's Monday, our fridge only has grapes and purple cauliflower in it from the Farmer's Market and we were hungry this morning. Particularly ravenous because we over-did it at the Canal Room this weekend, so we needed some sustenance.

Michael returned from the store with some greek yogurt, bananas and Feed granola. He saw me looking at him sceptically but made up some bowls of yogurt, a little honey and this dark "feed." I had seen it before displayed proudly at Whole Foods and admired its packaging, but thought of it as the kind of idea that some guys had in their apartment one day and decided they could make a million packaging their own granola in a cute, simple way. This still seems partially true, but the granola was really rather good. It's very, very crunchy, has a good mix of salty and sweet and a bunch of cranberries and coconut. Plus, the stand-up kraft package looks rather nice on the counter. I think I might not wince so much if he buys it again.

Red Wing Chukka Boot

These Red Wing Chukka Boots were the first birthday gift that I received this year. I turned a year older last week and my missus purchased them for me.
It took a bit of arm twisting and mental disintegration to change her mind from buying me a pocket atlas instead of these? I mean the pocket atlas is made by Smythson, only one of the finest in the world and I love atlases, so I see where she was going with this, however, I don't see myself walking around Brooklyn checking my atlas with a magnifying glass for directions, I'd get my head kicked in, especially if my atlas was made from the finest leather that money can buy. I'll just use my pocket GPS system to get me to and fro, and with these on my feet, I'll be kicking in heads myself. And those of you who think I'm ungrateful for not accepting the atlas, you should see what she's making me buy her for our 5 year wedding anniversary.

Red Wing is a bit of a U.S. success story, started in 1905 by Charles H. Beckman as a corner store in the town of Red Wing, Minnesota, is now one of the most respected shoe manufacturers in the world. I searched high & low for this particular style but they are not available in the USA, so had to call on my friends in Manchester to help out.
I was pretty shocked when I opened the box, don't think I've come across anything this well made in a while, except say the Rabbit Pappardelle at Locanda Vini & Oli. Actually, comparing shoes with food is a little stupid so I'll stop right here.

Ingo Maurer recent work in SoHo

The first sign that a design opening is not bowling the crowd over is when you find 95% of the guests huddling around the free drinks table. This was the case a few weeks ago at the introduction of Ingo Maurer's new work at his SoHo gallery. However, seeing that the room was cleared to one side I had the perfect opportunity to investigate what was seemingly less interesting than the acidic warm white wine being poured.

And what I found on the gallery's two floors was an answer, no, actually a question. What the hell happened to the prince of lightness?

As I walked with Natasha, a twinge of sadness hit me. It was that same sinking feeling you get when you see your favorite footballer loses a step he will never gain back, or the day you realize Eddie Murphy can't squeeze another joke out of a fat suit.

Ah, that might be it. Maybe the wittiest man in illumination has lost his delivery, his timing, the punch line. After all, he is 75 and German. Seriously now, how many Germans have made you laugh? How long did you think he could keep us smiling and dreaming?

Frankly I was disappointed with many of the recent undergraduate-like concepts and executions of his new pieces, however, it is not time for this man to hang up his thinking cap. Although men and mice in stacked metal cages and exploded porcelain doll head chandeliers did not have had the succinct voice or impact of his past work, he continues to joyfully experiment with new technology by making it human and approachable, and he keeps on breaking the perceived rules of functional lighting, sometimes literally.

Beyond that ratty ponytail, the man is looking good, healthy and strong. Ingo has no off switch. In fact, he and his team are currently showing at the Cooper-Hewitt that features numerous site-specific installations for the museum's daunting and serious spaces.

So raise your glasses and toast Ingo, just don't do it with a plastic cup, he deserves better than that.

Ingo Maurer is now showing at the Cooper-Hewitt, National Design Museum with his show "Provoking Magic: Lighting". It will run through January 27, 2008. I'm not going to miss it.