Thursday, February 15, 2007

Snow

I think there was a time in our life when we all really could have gotten into this. Maybe not Mama and Papa, actually, but I'm pretty sure we could've gotten them on board and gotten our way. Just think about those all-neighborhood capture-the-flag/snowball-fight days. How much better would those have been if we had had our own snowmaker??

Monday, February 12, 2007

Metropolitan Diary

Attention, those involved in finance (you know who you are).

Dear Diary:

As I was heading out of my Upper East Side apartment building to a leisurely breakfast, I happened across a neighbor whose husband is a well-known stock trader on Wall Street. Her darling 5-year old-son had overheard Daddy on the phone with a client, and was quite concerned.

“I know Daddy sells things at his job,” he remarked with consternation, “but why, oh why, did he say he would sell my shorts?”

Andrea Silenzi

gingerbread train station, Christmas 2006 (construction); Feast of St. Scholastica 2007 (destruction)

The upraised spoon is to facilitate demolition, which occurred at Bridget's birthday party. The pictures are the last ones (but probably not the first, although I have no record of any others) to be taken of this masterpiece of sugar, flour, and licorice, among other ingredients....



Bridget got her ears pierced!


She chose amethyst, her birthstone.

Sunday, February 11, 2007

crazy tea cozy

I got this idea from a crafty blog. I made it for Therese, since I made it out of a favorite sweater of hers that she gave me for doll clothes -- she was mad at herself for letting it shrink and get moth eaten (I'm not sure in that order!).
So the little flowers cover moth holes, and you will note the button closure at the bottom...
I realize it's wacky, so laugh as much as you want.










Thursday, February 08, 2007

Snow Day Pizza

As you may have heard, we were hit with nearly two inches of snow early Wednesday morning, and school got cancelled so we wouldn't have to risk our lives in the treacherous weather. I have come to a (rather predictable) decision: I love snow days. I can't remember the last time I had so much fun being so productive.

After putting up curtains in our living room, cleaning and repairing our armchairs, and running some errands, I decided to make pizza for dinner. As many of you know, I've been reading food blogs somewhat obsessively lately, and Deirdre has been on a photo-taking kick, so we decided to document the process. (Really, 99% of what makes the food blogs so much fun is the pictures, anyway).

Mama makes perfect pizza every single week, which is a tough standard to live up to. I've made it several times down here, but this is the first time that I've really been happy with my dough. Here it is:



I made two pizzas - one had carmelized onions, sausage, sundried tomatoes, and feta, and the other one was the same but without the feta (there wasn't enough for both pizzas). Here you can see it in all its stages:



this is actually when the picture-taking started. I'm sure you can imagine this scene:
Rosie: "ooh, Deirdre. Check this out. There's a really good chance that this pizza is going to be seriously delicious."
Deirdre: "ooh! Should I take pictures?"
(proceeds to take six thousand photos of everything in the apartment, including the pizza)

Into the oven it goes!


And the finished pizza (this is the one with feta. And no, the sundried tomatoes aren't burnt. They just look dark in this picture):


This is me working in our kitchen. Isn't it cute? (and by cute I mostly mean small, although it's also quite cute for real, if you ignore the floor)



And finally, (by popular demand) our baker's rack!


Monday, February 05, 2007

Deirdre and I can totally relate...

Dear Diary:

While having lunch at an East Side restaurant, I overheard the waiter present the dessert menu to two diners in the next booth and ask if they would like to order anything.

“No thanks,” said the first. “I’m full.”

“I just started a diet,” said the second. “I’ll pass, too.”

“Dessert comes with the price-fixed lunch,” replied the waiter.

Diner No. 1: “I’ll have the chocolate cake.”

Diner No. 2: “I’ll have the rice pudding.”

Bob Levoy