You’re invited

Sunday is like a holiday to many people. It’s that one night (day for some E! viewers) that we leave the doldrums of a Northeast winter behind and bring our sun-deprived eyes to the golden coast. It’s Oscar® night and whether you have a faux red carpet to walk down or you’re going to be watching it from the comfort of a couch, champagne is in order.

You don’t have to attend the Vanity Fair party, to party like the stars, but no matter where you find yourself on this annual occasion, it is important to know how to open a bottle of bubbly.

Patrick Watson of Brooklyn Wine Exchange is here to avoid any embarrassment or breaking of a family heirloom. Thanks to Daily Candy.

It doesn’t have to be Moet, anything that tastes good to you. Veuve Clicquot is nice, but still on the pricey side. Andre actually has a very tasty and non-headachy strawberry (any leftover makes for great champagne cupcakes).

Cheers! Pretend you’re amongst the celebs. Colin Firth will surely be raising a glass. Natalie Portman, probably not so much. I like to channel Grace Kelly.

Now back to my Oscar® picks . . .

It’s the Journey, Not the Number

The past two weeks I met stress and the verdict is still out on if I conquered it. Over-scheduling and multi-tasking are nothing new but a new job, a new home and a new age can be a bit cumbersome at 33.

No longer are schlepping boxes, meeting new people and waking-up in unfamiliar territory easy tasks to feel comfortable in. The body just isn’t as flexible, despite all the yoga, Pilates and dancing. Perhaps the memory needs to be worked on. For those of us that are sensitive, maybe leaving a house because there is one better suited does not always mean it’s easy to uproot.

Nonetheless, a new position and deciding to move are two choices we can make in life. Turning a year older however . . . well, it’s better than the alternative. I was recently inspired by Karlen Chase’s article, in which she counts what she has learned in the past 33 years, not so much the number of moves or gray hairs. So I decided to reflect on where I’ve called home for the past three decades and what I took away from my stays as I globe trotted.

New York State: Where life began and dreams were sprouted. Imagination got its start and Western New York is always home to go back to.

Ohio: Middle America. A roller coaster summer of awesomeness.

Dublin, Ireland: The closest place to heaven on Earth. The farther from home I got, the more people I met that were like me. Rosie cheeks, pints and tiny cigars. Stumbling upon a cottage George Bernard Shaw lived in during my usual hike up Dalkey Hill and going past the tower where Joyce wrote Ulysses because it was on my morning commute.

Rochester, NY: A first real (and still favorite apartment). Roving reporter. Real relationship. Good practice for life.

New York City: “Came here for school, graduated to the high life, Ball players, rap stars, addicted to the limelight, MDMA got you feeling like a champion, The city never sleeps better slip you a Ambien.” The Village and the Upper East Side, still a second home and where my heart is. Went there searching for life and got a story of a lifetime, friends forever and learned how to walk away.

Massachusetts: I didn’t want you. Serendipitous to have met certain people and two that moved there at the same time. Historical. Beautiful. Quiet.

Buffalo, NY: Apparently you can go home again, and pick up right where you left off. But this time, life is really fabulous and there are great friends, many laughs and expectations that I can’t even begin to map out because they are just going to be that good.

Single: Many aren’t afraid to tell me they always thought I’d be married by now. Sometimes I think it’s sad to admit I am incredibly happy because I am not, nor have I been, married. Perhaps it’s because I’m content and it’s hard to meet someone with the same life experiences. I’ve decided the latter is actually a great problem to have, because I’ve filled a life with lots of stories in a somewhat short period of time. I also have a hunch, what is around the corner will be worth the wait.

Gray: The plan is to age gracefully. Welcome gray hair because it will make me more distinguished and others will treat me with more respect. Wrong. The aforementioned is achieved in via mind and wisdom. Sure, presentation is important, but seeking that polished yet sexy Diane Sawyer look isn’t done by being natural. I recently went back to my roots – literally; and guess what, blonds do have more fun.

The Cookbook Club

Julia Child started cooking at 32, and she said, up until then she just ate. If there is anything we learned from her and other culinary greats, is it’s essential to have a love affair with your food in life.

A cookbook club was my idea. Having more creative thoughts in a single morning than some may have in a week, combined with energy, can be more of a curse than a blessing.

I accepted the members that showed interest. Some of us have been friends for decades, while others are new acquaintances. Devour this blog post to get a taste of what our monthly meetings or meals consist of. While we are a secret group, there is no hidden agenda to cookbook club, aka the Cooka Nostra.

The time following the holidays for me is always a downer, so I thought it would be uplifting to have the Initial Meeting of Cooka Nostra in early January. In compliance with the time of year, I chose the winter section of Ina Garten’s Barefoot Contessa Parties! for the group. With two soups, an appetizer, ham for the main course, a side of sweet potatoes and apple crisp for dessert, we had an instant feast for seven.

Snacking on fresh vegetables with a crisp Tzatziki dip was a great way to start the night, brought to the dinner by Julie. This healthy and light snack, combined with Jason’s contribution of a refreshing Pinot Grigio, was a great palate cleanser.

Excellent to be served with drinks

Sitting down to a delicious steaming hot bowl of Fennel Soup Gratin and melted, freshly shredded Gruyere Cheese on top, is the way to any cheese lover’s heart; but while tasty, we soon learned Brad’s contribution was just a tease to our taste buds.

Not to be gluttonous, but we had two soups that evening. Matt’s Butternut Squash Soup soon followed. He altered Ina’s recipe by using just one Macintosh apple and added a little extra onion. Not only was it the group’s favorite dish, it was also the most surprising.

Many thought there was a secret ingredient to the soup

The main course was greeted with comments like, “When I eat ham it’s never this good.” That’s because Lynn, who never cooked a ham, also changed her dish with cranberry orange chutney, to bring out the orange flavor from the orange zest and juice. Like Lynn, I cannot stick to a recipe, which makes me a horrible baker. Nonetheless, I attempted the Old-Fashioned Apple Crisp. Making it healthier, I used whole-wheat flour and organic oatmeal. In the future, I’m going back to my own recipe, which is much more simple.

Ham and potatoes. It's important to keep them moist.

Jennifer made it to the table sans her fingerprints. The night before she was scrubbing potatoes and peeling, coring and cutting apples for the Smashed Sweet Potatoes with Apples, a perfect side dish to the meal.

Personalities were large, giving way to festive conversation. With a group like this, one must keep a marker and dry erase board on hand for recording quotes.

There should be a lesson learned from every meal and this time I was taught, for even the biggest control freak, planning a cookbook club meeting doesn’t have much pressure and a terrific time is guaranteed.

Did you just double dip that fondue fork?

Nothing can ruin a dining experience more than eating with someone who doesn’t have good table manners. Elbows on the table, not waiting for others to be served, not placing a napkin in your lap or putting it in your chair if you get up during the meal, are all norms we have become accustomed to. Hell, if you’re uncertain how to eat at a proper table setting, all you need to do is watch Titanic. Even Leo learned you just start on the outside and work your way in.

Meat, chicken and shrimp waiting to get dunked

Well, I have a confession. My manners were recently challenged during an evening of fondue at The Melting Pot and I believe I committed more than one major fondue faux paus. Read on, and learn how to not make the same mistakes.

Fondue is a Swiss communal dish at a table in an earthenware pot over a small burner. Using long-stemmed forks, with different colored ends, eaters dip bits of bread, fruit, vegetables, meat and seafood into the molten sauce or cheese mix.

It's cold outside so that means it's time for a full-bodied glass of Mirassou, Pinor Noir

Originally popular in the U.S. in the 1960s and 70s, it’s making its way back into the mainstream. But before you start sticking your fork in a community pot of deliciousness, be sure you know the rules.

• Do not let your tongue or lips touch the dipping fork. When participating, use a dinner fork to remove the food and put on your plate.
  

• Don’t double dip. It goes without saying, don’t take a bite and put it back in the pot. If you do this, someone should go George Costanza on your ass.

• Don’t dip with your fingers, unless you want to get burned. The cheese and broth are both boiling hot, so this would not only be rude but also idiotic.

• If you loose your food in the pot, don’t fret. Your server or host/hostess should give you a search and rescue ladle. However, there are repercussions if this happens (see below).

• When cooking your meat or seafood fondue, don’t steal a dining partners stick. Even the most gregarious hungry girl needs to learn patience and wait her turn.

Fondue, a great way to bond with friends

In true Swiss tradition, if a nugget of bread is lost in the cheese by a man he buys a bottle of wine and if such a thing happens to befall a woman she kisses the man at her left.

I think someone owes me a bottle of wine.

Mad Men Me

Everyone loves a good theme party so when I decided it was time to officially Christen my new and temporary digs back in my hometown of Western New York, dressing ala Mad Men came to mind. Those on the invite list also had fun gathering old time wares and attitudes for a night of appropriate behavior, for the early 60s that is.

Pay attention to the details, rhinestones and pearls

Mad Men on AMC is now post the JFK assassination and headed into the throws of the Vietnam War. It was common for the Drapers and Roger Sterling’s at the time to smoke a Lucky Strike and down a Moscow Mule. Therefore, if you are going to have a Mad Men party, be sure the bar is stacked and ashtrays are abound.

Sterling, Cooper, Draper and Price

Conveniently, the styles of the early ‘60s are coming back into fashion so finding a dress, gloves and art deco costume jewelry, is easy to do. Still, thrift stores and vintage shops are the way to go. Additionally, ladies should not be too timid to beehive the hair or wear red nails and lips.

The perfect 1960s couple

Guys, fedoras are great and you can wear a skinny tie with pants and a jacket; or be one of Peggy Olson’s flacks and don the sweater vest and button down. Just make sure the pants are a little tight and on the short side.

Planning the menu is probably the most involved. From deviled eggs to pork (since not many people like lamb) kabobs, your guests will need to eat with the strong cocktails being served. It is most important the food is retro. I even turned my shrimp cocktail sauce into a Bloody Mary sauce.

Taking a break from secretarial duties and waiting on the men

Betty Draper Francis wouldn't skimp on the details and neither should you. Make sure you have party favors for your guests to take. I made up little candy bags with retro treats, such as Blackjack, Beemans and Clove stick gum.

Martinis and other stiff drinks

Don't hold back on the party games either, Operation, a stack of cards and even Tarot cards can be fun. The decor should also be from the past, dig out the old manual typewriter and put paper in it to record highlights and quotes from the evening. A rotary dial phone and old LPs are also must haves for a night of 'Mad' fun.

Oh Canada

Was something lost in translation or am I too old fashioned? Being a daughter of the Feminist Revolution, women my age often forget that time and biology (and every matchmaker or television therapist) proves to us over and over again, men are the hunters/the gathers and women must surrender to the bountiful harvest that only they can provide.

I recently engaged in conversation with a dashing, educated and successful Canadian man. He actually resembled my fictional dream man, Marc Darcy, European suit and all. The ink in my Bridget Jones’ diary dried up however, when I was hesitant to cross the border into Canada to meet him for coffee at a museum, yes, my little creative, artistic heart and over caffeinated self was excited to make the journey; which in fairness was half-way between us. However, that little voice in the back of my head was ever present. Traveling across any border nowadays is stressful on any seasoned globetrotter and having to answer those probing questions from border security would only give me more pause. “Why are you crossing into Ontario today . . . to meet a first date?”

After expressing my hesitation and providing other locations to meet for an equally satisfying cup of Joe, I was shocked when my northern beau said he would feel more comfortable in Canada. Well, it didn’t even warrant a response. I ceased communication. Was he not worried about my comfort? Then my imagination took over, could he not cross into the U.S.? Does he not have a passport?

Usually, these scenarios have a reasonable explanation. I studied Interpersonal Communication with some of the brightest minds in sociology and communication at New York University. During my Master’s program there, my colleagues and I were referred to as scholars. At 23 years old, I shooed away such a title. Though, as time went on, I eventually became an academic myself, and I now often refer to the theory of human nature; but also remember what my teachers taught me, “Rules cannot be proven scientific when it comes to humans interacting with one another.”

This thought process, combined with conversations with a happily married girlfriend who did the online dating thing says, “Whenever I made the initiative it was always bad – they never wanted to put any effort into dating.”

My experience, studies and cocktails in the field, can only lead me to believe that I saved time, a trip and a potential international situation.

Practice for Turkey Day

Using the same stuffing from the Apple Crusted Pork recipe, I had a small, whole chicken just begging to be stuffed and roasted. But in addition to what was already being stored in a Pyrex glass bowl in the fridge, I added chopped organic celery and fresh chives.

While reinventing the stuffing, the small, whole chicken was marinating in a mixture of Old Bay seasoning, Filippo Berio olive oil, salt and pepper in a round blue roaster. Pre-heat the oven at 400 degrees.

Remove the innards, stuff the chicken and put the legs under the body.

Before placing the chicken in the over, put any extra breading on top of the bird, throw in any extra chives, chopped potatoes and fresh sage.

Cook for 1 hour and 40 minutes.

While the whole chicken is roasting, don’t forget about any canine members of the family. After boiling a small pot of water, place the innards in the bubbling water for 20 minutes. Drain and cool. For an extra treat, add a fried yolk and top with parsley.

A full and happy pet

Getting back to the human eaters, as soon as the bird is out of the oven, remove the stuffing right away. Upon removing the lid, smell the Autumn aromas of apples, fresh vegetables and seasonings. Cut and serve.

Leftovers make delicious chicken sandwiches