The other weekend, I traveled to NYC to meet with my dear friend Libby who is moving to London at the end of the summer. I think our initial instinct was to have "one last hoorah," but in the end I think we struck a good balance. Yes, there was a night where we may have indulged in too many bottles of sparkling wine, but we were just as happy to spend the next afternoon doing nothing else but rewatch the first season of Girls. Going out aside, we also had the chance to cook a few meals together, picnic in the park after a visit to the Union Square farmer’s market, and snack on world-famous chocolate chip cookies on our way to a memorable breakfast at Jack’s Wife Freda. In between meals, we visited an urban garden in Harlem, made it to a centennial Irving Penn photo exhibit at the Met, and, of course, strolled through Central Park—later returning for Shakespeare in the Park’s “A Midsummer’s Night Dream."
Read More
When I call my mother to ask her for a family recipe, I always make sure to have a pen, paper, and at least a hour set aside for the conversation. You see, more times than not, there is no recipe—not one written down that is. These recipes, born in the Soviet Union and passed down from woman to woman over the years, have simply been put to memory and rely more on basic know-how and techniques than on rigid instructions.
Read More