2011.08.12

Tourism update

Brunch at Five Points in NoHo - smoked salmon / egg salad sandwich. Totally delicious!

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Spent the rest of the morning at Google New York, which is insane. I have no idea what it must be like to get to work in a place like that every day. Best of all, I got to see Nina and Aaron which was basically two giant Lego happy faces. Love!

Then, tourism:

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From the High Line, which is basically a block west from Google, you can see this sign. I’m so happy! And you guys, this park is so beautiful. I wish I could spend the rest of the summer here.

But. I wish I’d brought a real camera. I actually have nightmares about things like this, and now it’s happened.


2011.08.05

Also, the sandals

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Saw this Three Wolf Moon shirt in the wild, worn (seemingly) without irony, at the Museum of Natural History. Keep on rocking, German tourists!


2006.04.11

The Fatty Crab

Back in New York, with a seriously flaky internet connection (but yay for a phone that doubles as a bluetooth modem, despite the constant drops), and — a now-slightly-less-flaky stomach!

Had dinner at the Fatty Crab, a Malaysian-inspired eatery in the West Village. Small and uncrowded on a Tuesday night, both the dining room and the dishes were colorful, quirky, and beautiful. Everything was really tasty, but I found myself seduced by the salty-sweet-sour fireworks of the watermelon pickle & crispy pork salad. The fatty duck was nicely seasoned and sat on a bed of surprisingly spicy white rice (only later did I notice thinly-sliced red peppers mixed in). The chili crab was… big, and v. messy. But also good!

Ahem. I’m not really feeling eloquent tonight, so I will just pepper your imaginations with photos:

[Watermelon pickle and crispy pork salad]
 
[Fatty duck]
 
[Chili crab]

(…can’t say I’m an expert, but I strongly suspect these dishes sit firmly on the “new wave” end of the authenticity scale!)


Hsiao-Ching Chou’s “You gotta try this” piece in the P-I is mostly old hat, but good lord, does this sound good. And frites! Is there any reason to ever leave Capitol Hill again?


2005.09.04

Pork buns

[9 Chatham Square]

Okay, totally ignore this entry unless you want to know the secret location of the world’s yummiest Chinese baked pork buns. They’re so good — sweet, soft, filled with a perfect mix of roast pork and caramelized onions. I’ve been grabbing them greedily on my New York visits for years but until now never bothered to get the actual address down so that I could share with others.

So! It’s Chatham Restaurant at 9 Chatham Square, which is Bowery near its intersection with Mott Street in Chinatown. You can’t miss it, it’s the big red awning near the Subway sub shop. Remember, they’re baked — not steamed — so we’re talking doughy rather than fluffy, but trust me on this. You won’t be sorry.


I admit it, I finished Angels & Demons on the plane ride home. It was a light read and it did confirm one thing: that Dan Brown’s writing style improved considerably between this and its sequel. Still, that’s not saying a whole lot. We’re talking huge swaths that read like bad fan fiction:

The Hassassin smirked. He had been awake all night, but sleep was the last thing on his mind. Sleep was for the weak. He was a warrior like his ancestors before him, and his people never slept once a battle had begun. This battle had most definitely begun, and he had been given the honor of spilling first blood.

The writing’s worse, but the story is somewhat better, at least until it all falls apart in the endgame. I enjoyed the fact that we’re finding our heroes looking for answers at an honest-to-goodness library when the doomsday clock is ticking — though it makes me long for an adventure book starring a librarian rather than a “professor of religious symbology,” whatever that means.

I think I’m Dan Browned out for the rest of my life. Jessamyn told me over the weekend that Deception Point was actually a fun read, but it will have to wait. I need to read things where the words are beautiful, at least for awhile.


2005.07.09

Making frites

[Making frites]

Dug this one out of the archives, where that expanse of white shirt-back kept getting in the way of any appreciation I could muster. I’m still not sure it works, but there’s just something — in her glance, or the dance reflected in hazy shadow on the spatter shield…

This was taken at Pommes Frites in Manhattan, the best place ever.


I said this in comments, but I watched the rest of the BBC Jane Eyre last night. Still so good, but St. John Rivers? Total freak!

Piling up for an Austen marathon: should I rent the BBC Northanger Abbey? Anyone seen it?

Currently in the pile:

Finally, I just discovered AustenBlog today and have spent far too much time reading it — and through it found the trailer for Focus Features’ new Pride & Prejudice. Matthew McFadyen? Keira Knightley? Sign me up, please!

And, back to Brontë: SB says I must see the 1944 Jane Eyre with Orson Welles, but it doesn’t seem to be available on disc. Sigh…


2005.06.06

Not-here

[Stuck]

A wall of rain and fire to the west means I’m still stuck in New York for now — well, not stuck in New York, exactly, which would be just fine, but in the limbo that is the airport. Airports are places you’re either going-to or coming-from. There’s no such thing as being at an airport. The air is muggy and oppressive.

Sitting in a wet-hot plane for three hours on the runway, or in the wet-hot terminal, neither much of a choice — nor is spending the night at La Guardia or O’Hare. At this point I just want to feel Seattle’s cool embrace and the warmth of home. Leftovers and reruns and chores and sleep. I’d even like to be at work again.

I. Want. Destination.

In the meantime I’ve plenty of reading to chew through. Just finished A. S. Byatt’s Little Black Book of Stories, some of which left me cold but “A Stone Woman” and “The Pink Ribbon” were both affecting. The weaker stories suffer from truncation, or too much cleverness; all beautifully-written, of course. I’d forgotten how she dances in description, her joy in lists and catalogues. Also, have started A Wild Sheep Chase, which will hopefully last me until I’ve no more need of words.

I might have read three books in the whole of 2004, and twice that just in the past month. It’s like slipping into a favorite pair of shoes, familiar and well-worn.

Update, Tuesday a.m. — in Chicago. They say we can leave within the hour. Fingers crossed.

So tired.

Update, Tuesday p.m. — home!!


2005.06.05

Dreaming of being a bride

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dreaming of being a bride | New Haven, CT

Much, much too hot here to write. Not heat, specifically, but awful humidity, thick, wet, like childhood summers back home, thankfully forgotten (though I dearly miss: thunderstorms, fireflies).

Back home tomorrow night, anyone in NYC up for an early lunch in Chinatown? But — who am I kidding? Still jet-lagged and will probably sleep until it’s time to leave…

Good-bye, high shoulders, metal earth dwellers, palaces of glass. heart.


2005.06.04

Central Park West

[Found mirror project 1]

Whirlwind day in Manhattan, browsing the sample sale at Triple Five Soul, shopping at Lush, H&M, and tons of cute little kitsch shops, ooh-ing at Origins’ fab new Modern Friction dermabrasion rub but backing away a little at the price. Also: nibbles at Jaya Malaysian, Woorijip and Le Pain Quotidien with Miranda and Lia (rockstar!), and finally meeting Jarvis and Samson, adorable fuzzballs — all while fighting off jet-lag.

Lots of fun, but tired tired tired.

Okay, breathe, Yuki, get some sleep. You’ve a train to catch in the morning.


2003.05.08

Hisashiburi

It’s been awhile, hasn’t it?

I’m the timid type, so when the server started getting hammered by outside linkage to the Fat Kreme Photo Essay, I figured it was best to lay low for a bit. Besides, you never can tell where the hackers are hiding.

Here we go, rapid-fire:

Movies: Le Pacte des Loups was fun. You can totally tell that Christophe Gans is a fan of Hong Kong wuxia films, and there’s a real look to this film that evokes the pre-Raphaelite movement. X2 had a lot for a fan of the 80’s books to bite into, and set up even more for the next go-round. Also, eye candy. Seriously. Identity was creepy and played with enough intriguing concepts to distinguish itself from the pack, despite uneven direction. Better Luck Tomorrow was much, much better than I was expecting.

Upcoming travel plans: Off to Chicago this weekend for some family catch-up time and other hijinx. The end of the month will see me in New York City, but probably not at Nobu. In between, the docket includes a puzzle hunt, freesia’s show, a dinner expedition or two and hopefully some quality time with friends.


Meme watch:


Apropos of nothing, but something pretty I came upon while web-surfing:


 
Wall-Painting of Ladies and Papyri (det.) | 17th-c. BC
(from the Museum of Prehistoric Thera, Santorini, Greece)

Finally, word is that Ginger Altoids are starting to hit the shelves again, at least in Seattle. Perhaps it’ll be a seasonal thing. At any rate, keep your eyes peeled!


2002.09.12

9|11

If you feel you can handle it, you absolutely must see 9|11, an extraordinarily powerful, feature-length documentary by brothers Jules and Gedeon Naudet. Originally a project to film the progress of a rookie firefighter, the filmmakers ended up in the middle of everything on 11 September, catching much of the harrowing event (including what is probably the only extant footage of the first plane hitting tower one) on videotape. Not merely a study of the day itself, it tracks the firefighters from mid-June through the aftermath and cleanup on the WTC site, and features lots of commentary by those most directly involved. Nothing exploitative here, just profound human drama.

It’s out on DVD right now, with bonus interviews. Thanks to Tony for the recommendation.

Okay, I promise I’ll stop dwelling on this subject now. Thanks for listening and for the support over the last couple of days, everyone. And I promise I won’t delete my previous post.

P.S. First entry from the new laptop!

2002.09.11

Frozen moments


2002.09.06

Bleary

Daylight. No rosy-fingered dawn, this; the transformation of the sky over the past few minutes has been from cold, brittle darkness into cold, brittle light. True to form, I’ve emerged from my pre-trip all-nighter fully packed (just in time), and barely awake enough to drive. In just a few minutes I’ll be heading out to the airport to grab a flight to New York.

B. will be at JFK, waiting, hopefully, to carry me and my luggage home.

Obviously, I’m looking forward to the weekend. I have been, for several weeks now. No doubt we’ll dine with mattereaterlad and valerie, the newly settled. Perhaps I’ll visit ground zero for the first time, before they turn it into a park. Maybe, if fortune smiles, I’ll even get enough quality alone time in.

So then why am I sitting here in misery? Why can’t I sleep on these long nights before I set out?

Oh, for some NyQuil.



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