Friday Afternoon Excursion: Starn Brothers Bambu Exhibit at the MET

As Izzy and I walked home from school today, he seemed a bit forlorn.  He was feeling left out as he watched his classmates walk off for a playdate, knowing we had no particular plans.

I thought I would cheer him with a cup of hot vanilla (warm milk, honey and sprinkle of cinnamon dust) which we both sipped as I looked through the Weekend section of the New York Times.  Yes, I still read the hard copy of the paper. Am I the only one left?

I immediately honed-in on Last Chance section of the Art listings, where I noted that the Starn Brothers Bambu exhibit on the rooftop of the MET would be closing this weekend.  I suggested we go since the MET is open until 9 on Fridays and Izzy quickly agreed.  We made it there by 5:30, just in time to catch the gorgeous sunset upon the foliage of Central Park.  Better yet, A. happened to be working nearby and joined us.  Not only did we catch Bambu - which is a wondrous configuration of bamboo poles - but we also managed to peek in a few other places, including the Egyptian section - where Izzy clamored to see the mummies.  Izzy was skipping from room to room but I had to cut our visit short since it was already 7 p.m. and we needed to eat dinner.

We hopped in a cab across the park and made our way to Gazala Place which I have been meaning to write about for ages.  I discovered this narrow storefront in Hell's Kitchen in springtime and somehow managed to eat there during my treatments.  I ate there a couple of times on the days my treatments were canceled and I actually had an appetite.  This delicious Middle-Eastern spot features Druze cuisine and it was so delicious, I was eager to have Izzy and A. join me there.  We ordered the Mezze plate which showcases many of the wonderful offerings, including the smoky baba-ganoush, meat-filled cigars, Kibbe, falafel and hummous, served up with their incredible version of pita bread, made on the premises.  This paper-thin delight is addictive and Izzy held onto the bread basket to make sure he got the last bit before the waitress cleared the table.  Meanwhile, we polished off a fresh Fattoush salad (cucumbers, tomatoes, scallions, lettuce, crisped pita), a roasted fish and a lamb/beef kafte platter.  By that time, Izzy was falling asleep in the noisy restaurant and it was time to waddle along.  Taxi to the Path and we were on our way.  Certainly a memorable afternoon/evening for all.

Gazala Place will probably be around for awhile but you can only catch the Starn Brothers exhibit until Sunday.  If your kids are over 10 you can even go on the guided tour atop the bamboo poles for a real adventure. Definitely worth the trip!

Beware Superlatives: Eggs Benedict At Elysian Cafe

This do look gorgeous, don't they?

But to label them the best I'd ever eaten would be bordering on the extreme. Indeed they were a fine example of the genre, barring the fact that they were lukewarm and the English muffin could have benefited from being crisper on the outside and chewier on the inside.

Yet I had read that they were"the best", forgetting that the best of Hoboken is a superlative that has little meaning if few places actually prepare a particular dish and the area in question is rather small. That being said, if you live not far from Cafe Elysian, they do offer a decent brunch option at affordable prices.



Izzy cleared his plate of the French Toast and everyone else was reasonably happy with their food too. So do go, and keep in mind that if you don't expect "the best", you will probably be satisfied with your meal.

A Wonderful Concert and An Offal Meal: They Might Be Giants and DBGB

I don't know about you but I can live without most kid bands, with their grating tunes and annoying lyrics. They Might Be Giants are a rare exception. They are one of the chosen few that Izzy and I both adore. They started out as a grown-up band and still are but since Izzy was little they have been doing kid stuff as well, which I admit I love just as much. Their concert today, at the Skirball Center at NYU was as joyous and engaging as the one we attended last year. If you haven't heard the new CD, check it out here. It is edutainment at its very best. I might have done better in science class if my teachers had used it to teach the periodic table.

At today's concert, we unexpectedly found ourselves in second row seats (at the urging of ushers who told us to move forward to empties in the front) which made the concert that much more thrilling for all of us. Unlike last year,this time Izzy danced uninhibitedly in the aisles. The confetti machines were an added bonus, causing Izzy to race around excitedly, collecting heaps of it to take home. The concert, just a bit over an hour, was just the right length for antsy kids.




Izzy definitely worked up an appetite from all of his wiggling during the show so he was eager to continue on with the next part of our outing. Afterward we hopped into a cab and sped over to DBGB where we met my dad and stepmother for dinner. DBGB is Daniel Boulud's new, gentler priced restaurant on the Bowery, specializing in all manner of sausages. Also offering seafood platters and an enticing selection of offal. The menu is full of so many gems, choosing was not so easy for some of us. For Izzy, however, it was a breeze. He read over the menu and promptly selected the octopus appetizer and veal tongue for his main course.




I chose the Duck Egg Bourguignon (an unusual preparation with a panko-coated egg served atop a portabello mushroom, accompanied by salad with duck cracklins) and the Crispy Pig's Foot (having somehow forgotten my Parisian pig foot experience). We were a table of tasters so even though I could not order everything on the menu, I managed to take in a decent sampling. As for my "Pied de Cochon" it was world's tastier and meatier than the one I had eaten in France. Even my dad, who was reluctant to taste it, had to admit it was a succulent morsel.


Just look at that trotter in all of its crusty splendor. Glad I didn't remember my past experience or I wouldn't have ordered it. Even so, I only managed to eat half of it, as I was trying to keep to my new way of eating and the the leftovers for lunch tomorrow.

With all of our sampling and the late hour, it's a wonder Izzy and I still had room for dessert but he had his heart set on some chocolate sorbet with whipped cream and I agreed to give it a try. At least it arrived quickly and our waiter offered it to us on the house, along with a sundae, as compensation for enduring an unusually long wait for our food. The restaurant was most likely overwhelmed after the wonderful review in the Times the other day, well-deserved to be sure.

Despite the dreary weather, our rare family excursion was a success. We will be looking out for the next TMBG concert in the NYC area. As for DBGB? There were so many dishes left to try I need to go back soon.. Tripe anyone?

Birthday Bouquets And Other Tales Of The Day

Could there be a better birthday present then the sight of my child helping sort this week's CSA picks? We didn't do what I had originally planned because Izzy wanted to stay home to sort the vegetables with Farmer Rich. As you can see I had trouble arguing with that.

Going to Madison Square park to hear Elizabeth Mitchell sing simply couldn't compete with bunches of fresh, fragrant oregano. So we stayed home and helped (besides, no other volunteers were forthcoming).

Farmer Rich gave me extra daisies in honor of my birthday so I'm glad we stuck around.



Later on it was off for some baked goods at our local, organic bakery, Made With Love.


Then dinner at Marco and Pepe with my very well-behaved companion... We clinked glasses and I received birthday wishes. He had pineapple juice, I a Lingonberry cocktail.


There was no room for dessert but there is still the promise of tomorrow.

Just Another Day In New York City: Cafe Sabarsky, The Whitney and Central Park

I am weary. Fatigue and seasonal allergies have kept me from posting for the longest stretch ever. If only I had one of these to soothe...

This giant ice pack (surreptiously photographed at the Whitney) is a Claes Oldenburg original. We went to see the exhibit on Friday, with Izzy's friend T., who is related to the artist. The show includes some larger than life pleather items, including French Fries "with a splat of ketchup" (Izzy's words). These pieces are sure to amuse and T. could not keep from touching them, as she had previously been allowed to do so. You try telling the museum guards that...

Our visit to the museum was preceded by a lunch at Cafe Sabarsky, my stand-by in the neighborhood, where the spatzle is nearly always a hit. Though not so much with Izzy's friend T. who only deemed the toast worthy of eating.. Picky eater boot camp awaits!

We followed our museum visit with a trip to the 72nd Street playground, where T. terrified her mama when she climbed the spiderweb.



T.'s mama was weary after that so they left and we stayed on, to sail the remote control sailboats nearby. Somehow we ended up crossing town for a fix of Grom. By then we were too exhausted to stay in the city for dinner so we dragged ourselves home.

Here's To The "Kiddie Food Movement"

For I would much rather see a child nibbling a cheese tasting platter instead of scarfing down nuggets and fries. Regina Schrambling, over on Slate seems to think otherwise. I don't disagree with everything she says but I do take issue with the degree of vitriol spewed forth against the concept of kids in the kitchen and in restaurants in general.

In response to her piece I wrote the following:

Kids in restaurants, Kids in the kitchen..why the vitriol?

As a blogger who chronicles the adventures of raising a child who eats most everything, I embrace the idea of kids in the kitchen and in restaurants. I'm all about teaching kids to have a healthy attitude towards food, eating locally and organically whenever possible. And hopefully with an understanding of the simple concept of why pure maple syrup is better than Aunt Jemima:

I certainly do not advocate "adults taking advice from kids", nor do I imagine that anyone is expected to, when watching shows or reading articles which do feature kids. These shows are obviously presented more for their novelty factor than anything else. The children are featured as an exaggeration of what can be wrought if you steer your child away from nuggets, towards a healthier way of eating.

I would rather see them than toddlers raised on burgers, nuggets and plain pasta. I'd like to hope that they are emblematic of a new, anti-fast food generation. I write about my experiences feeding my child in hopes of inspiring others to realize that it is possible to have children who do not covet nuggets, fries and the like. If parents take a greater role in shaping their children's palates, perhaps there will be a new generation, more inclined to eat in ways that are better for the environment and their bodies.

Threading and Dosas: Adventures In Beauty And Eating In Little India (Jersey City Style)

Beauty and Food...an odd combination but...

Like many women, I am no stranger to hair removal of some kind. Shaving, bleaching and waxing have been a part of my life since 8th grade and I have not found them to be too painful (aside from the occasional waxing with an inexperienced waxer).

I have long been intrigued about threading, an ancient method of hair removal used in India and elsewhere but didn't know that much about it. It turns out that my friend S. is a big aficionado and she convinced me that it was her preferred hair removal method and we could have it done right here in Jersey City's, Little India for a mere pittance.

My ears perked up at the thought of a trip to Little India. S. may have been planning a depilatory session but I was dreaming about where we should eat. I had been meaning to try the famed Sri Ganesh Dosa House and figured this would be the perfect occasion.

I willingly agreed to join S., all the while thinking that I would merely watch, rather than actually undergo the treatment. So with our highly impressionable children in tow, we set off to visit a threading salon on Newark Ave. The shop turned out to be a run-of-the-mill storefront tucked in amongst the Indian restaurants and shops. I entered with trepidation, having no idea what to expect. I insisted S. go first so that I could worm out of it if it looked too awful but she made it look relatively easy and I decided to give it a whirl. What did I have to lose expect a few excess hairs?





With Izzy beside me no less, I lay down in the chair and accepted my fate. Well it was hideous. I lay there wincing, with my eyes tearing, as the hairs were ripped from their roots, all with the merest wisp of cotton thread. She twisted and twirled that thread over my upper lip until I could barely breathe and I am still smarting from the agony. When it was over Izzy said, "Mama, don't ever do that again. I don't want to see your face look like that." Indeed the sight of me grimacing in pain was not a pretty one (S. kindly photographed it but you won't see it. Instead what you see is S., looking far more poised). When the worst was over, they asked if they could shape my eyebrows ever so slightly too. I have never ever even so much as tweezed a hair off of them but S. insisted that the pain was manageable. Thankfully, it was and the ordeal was over and it was time for lunch.

But lunch didn't turn out so well either, most likely a result of my foul mood after undergoing such pain. I was uncertain as to what to order so we ended up with a hodgepodge of dosas, none of which were exactly what I had in mind. Izzy and T. nibbled on the plain butter one and S. and ate the potato and the spinach/cheese. We tried some other random items as well, one which was Chaat-like, spicy, sweet and crunchy. Tasty though they were I left vaguely dissatisfied, feeling as if we could have ordered better things and wishing I had had more guidance in selecting the meal.


The outing was certainly unforgettable.

Would I go back again, for threading and dosas? Well that remains to be seen. I will have to evaluate the threading results in a few days and get back to you. As for dosas I will certainly give them another try, after doing a bit more research. Maybe next time I won't combine dining and beauty but instead focus on one or the other.

Happy Chinese New Year

It may be the year of the Ox but we celebrated by eating duck, Peking Duck that is, from the famed Peking Duck House in NYC.

But first we attempted to glimpse the parade. We arrived at the tail end but were fortunate enough to spy a few dragon dances. Izzy had the cat-bird seat, on his papa's shoulders.


We wove our way through the throngs, pushing through confetti-covered streets, enveloped in noisy celebration. We ate some third rate pork buns and taro custard along the way, but our favorite street food were these tiny "Chinese cakes" we bought from a street cart along Canal Street. They were served hot, straight from their cast-iron mold. These were light oval treats, akin to waffles. Izzy and I made quick business of the 15 for one dollar.

We poked into the crowded shops and Izzy came away with a new pair of chopsticks but overall we just window shopped and then decided on an early dinner.

The Peking Duck House has been on my "to eat" list for a while. I can't get enough of duck of all kinds and from what I had read it was worth the trip. It was not the stellar experience I had hoped for but it was decent enough (perhaps the crowds were a factor). My favorite Peking Duck was eaten years ago at The Shun Lee Palace (East Side) and I haven't had one that measures up since.

Still and all, our Chinatown excursion left us planning the next one. Hopefully we will be back soon, as Izzy is longing for a tiny Chinese satin print coin purse (he lost the one his teacher gave him and has been lamenting ever since.

Eating Great-Grandpa Style: The Edison Diner

Izzy's great-grandpa does not get out much, save for a weekly visit to his favorite restaurant, The Edison Diner. I have been able to avoid going there as he usually makes a weekly visit there with a kind friend who visits him nearly every Tuesday. When we visit, I usually bring something for us to eat with him at home.

This past visit, our usual routine was interrupted. My brother G. and my nephew D., visited at the same time so they decided Grandpa would like a trip to the diner. It was an outing. One I would sooner forget.

Once seated in our cramped booth (Grandpa insisted), I shuddered at the thought of what Izzy might eat there and searched for the least offensive choices on the menu. I offered him the choice of a veggie burger or grilled cheese sandwich. He chose the burger (as did his uncle) so I had the sandwich. Grandpa ordered Matzoh-Ball soup and fries. White food. What picky children like...

My nephew D., now 12, ordered several dishes from the menu, a burger, an egg sandwich and a Belgian waffle. I watched in amazement as he consumed everything in sight.

Everyone seemed thrilled with their choices (especially Izzy who was starving since it was nearly three p.m before lunch was served). He probably would have eaten whatever was put in front of him but it still pained me to watch him grab at my grandpa's greasy fries and take pleasure in that awful food.

As I sat, begrudgingly eating my grilled cheese, I thought about the countless people who flock to diners and why... I also wondered what Alice Waters would have done if her grandfather insisted on eating at a diner. "Bring your own olive oil" would have been of no use there...

Ox Outing: It's Aging Well

You have heard me rave about Ox before and I am back to say that it is better than ever. I convinced my dad to go there despite his problem with their previous bread issues (which have in fact returned), but I tried to overlook that teensy drawback and focus on the wonderful.

More sliders to drool over (not venison but still fabulous), deviled eggs and butternut squash arrancini (rice balls) also called us. These bar bites got raves all around, as perfectly- sized deliciousness.

Everything on their seasonal menu was appealing but I settled on their signature oxtail appetizer, which was even better than I remember. A square of polenta was piled even higher with shredded, meltingly tender oxtail. Next was their chicken and waffles, a lovely riff on a southern standard. It was prepared with a whole roasted poussin served atop a waffle with bacon and pecans. You can bet Izzy was opening like a guppy for tastes of everything, as he enjoyed his half portion of sweet pea risotto. Yes. Ox now boasts half portions which makes it even more enticing than ever.

My dad and stepmother enjoyed their fish special but were unable to finish. We ordered so much that I ended up with a whole portion to take home. The only downside was the noise factor. We could hardly hear ourselves speak as it was still happy hour, well after seven.

Izzy's final word: "Everything on our table was yummy." Indeed it was.

At What Age Can A Child Dine Out Alone?

One family in New York City, featured in this New York Times article, decided that 12 was the right age. What do you think?

When David Fishman's parents told him they would not be coming home for dinner, they asked him to pick up some takeout. Instead he asked their permission to dine out at a new restaurant in their Upper West Side neighborhood. As a budding foodie, he took the opportunity to critique the restaurant while the staff and other diners fawned over him.

I am not sure what to think about this. I suppose that a restaurant is a relatively safe place for a 12 year old and certainly not a bad place for a young boy to spend time alone. I certainly applaud him for his interest in eating well and his choice of restaurant.

The only issue I have is that he had to eat alone. Made me think of him as the modern-day latch-key kid, only worse as his parents couldn't even make it home for dinner. Having been a latch-key kid myself, and not one who would have or could have taken myself out to dinner, I clearly have my own biases here.

You?

The Unstoppable Eater: Izzy Meets His Match

She is the two and a half year old sister of his friend E. Her name is L. and she sure can eat!

We all shared in a most pleasurable meal at Grand Sichuan, our new favorite Chinese restaurant on Grove Street. We have become increasingly fond of eating there. This all happened a few months ago when we bumped into some neighbors as we were on our way in. S. and his daughter S., who are regulars, inspired us to try many new dishes. I let them choose and we tried their favorites. From Spicy Ox Tongue and Tripe, to Soup Dumplings and Whole Fish, everything was well-seasoned and delicious.

Their favorites have since become ours and we had the pleasure of introducing our friends to the wonderful spicy flavors, so much more vibrant than typical American Chinese food. Some of the dishes we shared tonight (along with the aforementioned ones) were Cold Cucumber and Scallions, Shredded Duck With Green Beans, Tea-Smoked Duck, and Pumpkin with Scallions and Ginger.

Everyone ate heartily but L. was a sight to behold. From the moment the food arrived at the table, she did not stop eating. Her hand roved from plate to plate, in search of edible morsels. I watched in awe as she pressed a sliver of duck fat joyously into her mouth. She tried every dish, except the Ox Tongue which was not placed in close proximity for fear that it would be too spicy (Izzy has tried it a few times but has professed that it is too spicy for him).

As. L. entertained herself with food, Izzy and his pal E. finished their dinner and quietly amused themselves with the ever important toy bag which I bring along when occasion warrants. They also had endless fun working on a mini- puzzle which I highly recommend for restaurant outings.

A fine time was had by all and I look forward to our next outing with L. and company. What will she savor next?

Cookbooks Calling: A Visit To "Aunt Lil"

Blogging does have some perks. For that is how I met L., a woman who lives right here in Jersey City. We had been corresponding via email for a few months and I finally had the chance to meet her.

She offered me an opportunity I just couldn't pass up; a visit to see her 86 year old Aunt Lil, who has a cookbook collection that she would like to discard. So I tagged along with L. and her friend J. to meet Aunt Lil and peruse the collection.

Aunt Lil is a real treasure, a feisty Sicilian-American who has more energy than most young people I know. Although she is still quite active, she seemed delighted to be divesting of this vast collection, recognizing that she probably wouldn't be using most of them. In fact she said that ten cookbooks would have been enough for her but collecting just got out of hand.

Her cookbook collection, several shelves and bins worth, spanned decades from the 1950's until recently today. The highlights were a bread section and Italian baking and cooking. She made it clear that the Italian books were off limits for the moment, which was too bad since some of the titles were intriguing. But I couldn't be too disappointed since there were countless other types of cookbooks mixed in, from Amish to Irish, with church in between.

I came away with 25 books (don't tell my husband who thinks I should be tossing the ones I already own), including some classics like The Moosewood Cookbook and a 1953 copy of Better Homes and Gardens.

This won't be the last you hear of those books as I take a closer look at them and try a recipe or too. But our day wasn't only about books.

I also had the pleasure of lunching with Aunt Lil at a brand-new restaurant in Nutley, which L. had spied during her travels. Farm 2 Bistro is an adorable place to stop for lunch or dinner. The limited menu features ingredients from local farmers' markets, along with Palazzolo's gelato.




Aunt Lil had quite an appetite and managed to finish 3/4 of her Monte Cristo sandwich. My pulled pork tacos were filling and tasty too. We were all content with our meals but so full that we had no room to try the gelato. That will have to be for another time.



Overall, this small, rustically decorated restaurant is worth a short detour. If you live in Jersey City, this is but a 20 minute drive and definitely worth the trip.

Where The Wild Things Were: A Sixth Birthday Party (With Flowers and an Empanada)

Izzy's friend I. turned six today. Making this not only the first day of school but the first day of school plus a birthday party day. A memorable one at that!



It was a flower party, all pretty pastels. The party began on a calm note, as the first order of business was painting small wooden flower frames. This was followed by a number of musical chair type games which became quite raucous, Izzy's voice rising high above the din. The kids were bursting with energy, or was that a sugar high after several frosted cookies and cups of apple juice? They were practically hanging off the chandeliers.

Then came the dress-up component which included large green hats and funny glasses for the boys.. And bright pink feather boas for the girls, which Izzy and the other boys were coveting.

Properly attired, it was time for pizza and cake. The pizza part was uneventful, the cake a different story. The birthday girl watched as her guests each received their own cupcake with candle. She wanted one too, not realizing that she would be receiving a special one, a giant daisy cake. This brilliant idea went over well at her sister N's birthday. Here, not so much.

She just wanted a cupcake of her own. Understandable.



And the party wasn't over yet. Stuffed with cake, Izzy called me upstairs to witness the bursting of the empanada. Imagine what an awful mess that would be, empanada filling everywhere.. Good thing what he actually meant was "pinata". Just what all sugar-shocked kids need.

But a thrill nonetheless and a great way to see perfectly reasonable children turn mad as they scramble for red hots and plastic toys, vying for who could amass the most loot. The birthday girl was crying again, as were her friends as they squabbled over who got the bubblegum or the whistle.

Difficult to drag the kids from the mayhem but the party was over. Time for them to start dreaming of the next one.

Knocking The Wind From Izzy's Snails

Considering how nonchalant my child was about eating an entire pig's foot, it shouldn't be especially shocking to learn that he didn't bat an eyelash when sampling snails the other night, and proceeded to polish off almost the entire plate of those chewy slugs.

At the time we were dining with Grandpa Joe ( an unabashed snail fan) and C. who happily kept his distance from the dish. Since they were the only witnesses to this culinary milestone I couldn't wait to share it with others, especially his papa. I gushed over Izzy's gleeful eating experience and when finished, the reply I received left me dumbfounded.

"How do you know they weren't calves' lungs? You must have heard that the French snail population is scarce and many restaurants have been using substitutions. Apparently most people can't tell the difference between snails and calves' lungs since they have the same texture."

I had to question this esoteric tidbit. From where did he glean this information? What proof did he have? I resolved to research it for myself and found that my husband must have gained access to this antiquated news story, straight from the New York Times of 1908. Yes, a century ago, those French were scarfing down snails like there was no tomorrow, leaving a dearth of snails. Nothing left to do but make the old calves' lung substitutions.

Could it be that the very same act of culinary treachery is going on today? If you have any knowledge of this, please send it along. Until then I will still kvell over Izzy's first snail sampling.

Can't Butter It Fast Enough: Izzy Encounters Home-baked Artisanal Bread

Thanks to our resident bread baker C., who also happens to be my sister's adorable boyfriend.

Aside from his knack with pies, he has been stricken with a serious bread-baking bug. According to his account, he has baked hundreds of loaves in the past six months. I have to wonder how it is that I am just learning about this now, during bikini season..How unfortunate on the one hand, yet irresistible on the other.

Izzy and I have watched in fascination, as C., in a semi-mad scientist fashion, carefully tends his pet dough mixtures. From starter to poolish, they all seem to have a place in his bread universe.

Our first taste of all his labors occurred after a busy morning of miniature golfing and bikini shopping. We arrived home to find this fine-looking 100% whole wheat loaf cooling near the stove.

Even though we had just come from eating ice cream, Izzy still had room for bread (so did we all for that matter). So C. buttered up a few slices and Izzy couldn't stop. As soon as he finished one slice, he would quickly demand another.



I had to contain myself from doing the same, otherwise I might never fit into my new bikini. The worst part, or best depending upon how you look at, is that this bread baking obsession continues and we will be reaping the benefits for the next few days. Stay-tuned for tomorrow's French Sourdough and a photo of the baker.

Solving Sushi Sadness: The Vegetarian Option

Izzy and his undying love for sushi continues, unabated. He continues to beg for it and we continue to not to eat it. Tonight we had a change of heart and discovered a surprisingly agreeable solution. Vegetarian sushi for all.

We scooted on over to a nearby sushi spot, Sushi Tango, nothing spectacular, just your basic sushi stuff. We ordered two vegetarian sushi platters, seaweed salad and cold tofu. A dinner so virtuous I could justify finishing one entire chocolate chip cookie.

The sushi platter included a cucumber asparagus roll along with assorted sushi pieces like raw asparagus, cucumber matchsticks, stuffed tofu skin, mushroom roll and some assorted tasty yet mysterious offerings. Izzy wanted to try everything and was so enthralled to be eating in a sushi restaurant he didn't seem to miss the fish at all. Neither did I.. (well maybe a smidge).

I Do Like Surprises: Quirky Birthday

There I was, at 6:10 p.m. last night, thinking that I was destined to a birthday of Chinese takeout. My text messages had gone unanswered and as far as I knew, no plans were afoot. Then I received the following:

"Home in ten minutes"...

A. being home before 6:30 is certainly out of the ordinary so I perked up, wondering what might be in store. Was he bringing home something to cook? Takeout from the city?

Well he walked in with a large box. Izzy was as eager as I to tear the paper off of it. Was it a cat carrier? No. Too heavy. What could it be?

Yes. It was a Goped scooter. A scooter to match the one Izzy received for his birthday. Now Izzy and I can scoot around JC together, in fact, all three of us can. What a perfect birthday surprise.

And it only got better from there because after scooter tryouts, we went out to a new place for dinner. The Embankment Restaurant which is conveniently located about two blocks from our house. Please don't heed the naysayers (Who are these people anyway? Do they eat out much? Are they even more discerning than A. or me? Doubtful). This spacious establishment is a boon to the neighborhood. Nearly everything we ordered was noteworthy, save for Izzy's dish of beef cheek ravioli which was disappointing considering the caliber of the rest of the meal.

What is their to dislike about this copious frisee salad with chewy, smoky lardons and goat cheese on grilled bread? The quail egg added the perfect touch. It was a great starter, followed by my large hunk of grilled Painted Hills Rib-Eye, served with an crunchy side of potatoes rosti..Add attentive service, relaxing atmosphere and this place is a winner. Can't wait to try it for lunch and their bar menu.

Smith College, Class of 2008: My Sister Graduates

My little sister, the one for whom I wrote poetry when she was two or three. The tiny one with lovely blond ringlets, who I let fall asleep on my chest when she cried inconsolably. The one who listened to music from the Wizard of Oz with me and then became frightened when I cackled like a witch. She is tiny no more.

Now she is a college graduate. On her way to getting her Masters at Brandeis, where I went to college. Funny thing is, she attended my college graduation when she was just 3 months old. I remember her in her stroller, sleeping through a fancy graduation dinner. I was tickled to have her there.

She was the first baby I loved. I taught her how to make eating peas fun. I wonder if she still likes to eat them that way, tossing them up and catching them in her mouth. Does she still have the poem I wrote about them?

She certainly has good taste in food, albeit a few picky quirks. She chose a perfect, homey restaurant on Northampton, MA, The Green Bean, for her post graduation brunch. It was a very unassuming spot. I immediately noted that the restaurant features local and organic ingredients. My sister proclaimed to have me in mind when she selected it and I couldn't have been more pleased with the choice.

Look how adorable she looks tucking into her meal...

How the day unfolded...

Graduation morning was long, more for Izzy than for me. It was sunny so he played by his chair and made it through processions, speeches and photo ops. He only became impatient as it drew closer to lunchtime. The worst occurred while we waited for a table. By then it was past 1:30 and he was beside himself with hunger, never mind that the older male relatives (I won't mention any names) went off for pizza and beer while we sat and held our place in line for the table. Poor Izzy was groaning with hunger.

When we were eventually seated I needed to demand a biscuit immediately, to fight off the hungry wolf but that only whetted his appetite further. Then this arrived.

Huevos Rancheros with Kale. One of many fabulous sounding combinations. Izzy's strange miso soup concoction came too. It was not as I had imagined but he would have eaten anything at that point. All of the dishes looked wonderful. A definite must-eat if you are in the neighborhood. Oh and completely kid-friendly, plenty of entertaining toys in a small nook in the back.


The Green Bean
241 Main St
Northampton MA
(413) 584-2326

Graduation over, flowers presented, lunch eaten; my sister and company retired to her chambers and we went back to our Bed and Breakfast, which is a whole other matter to be tended to shortly.

My Bambino Eats At 'ino

He may not exactly fall into the bambino category any longer but he'll always be mine... Even as he waves away the papparazzi!

A long afternoon at pottery class and Izzy works up quite an appetite. My friend R. decided that 'Ino , just a sliver of a panini bar, tucked away on Bedford Street would be a good place to fill his belly. There is not much wiggle room inside so it is truly for the well-behaved bambini.

The menu is filled with bruschette, panini, salads and other authentic Italian wine bar fare. It is the perfect spot for a glass of wine and an appetizer or for a light meal. That being said, we managed to eat enough for dinner, Izzy saving just enough room for a cannoli on the way home.

Izzy had a smooth root vegetable soup and we shared a bresaola,asparagus and pecorino panino. I had an arugula and Jerusalem artichoke salad and my friend R. had an awfully piggy tasting sopressata and arugula panino.

'Ino is definitely a pleasurable place to stop, whether for a quick drink and a bite to eat or a lengthier meal. It is also situated on a street dotted with all sorts of offerings so you could make a grazing evening of it as well. Along Bedford Street a few places I spotted were Blue Ribbon, Chez Henri and Ditch Plains. I think I might just find myself wandering in that direction more frequently.