Gotham Gal

Casa Tua

We had dinner last night at Casa Tua.  What a delight.  Housed in an old house.  Each room is intimate with lots of light and a wonderful outdoor garden.  It was quite the art scene last night. 

The food is really delicious.  The menu changes daily.  The chef highlights his picks of the evening in red.  I am amazed that the menu changes daily and still tastes this good.

I started with a simple mache salad with a sherry vinaigrette, shaved aged Gouda, toasted pine nuts and thinly sliced apples.  It was crisp and flavorful.  My friend had risotto with shaved truffles.  Wow.  The risotto was perfect.  Rich, al dente and the truffles took you over the top.  I didn't really know the other people at the table so I didn't reach over to taste but it all looked delicious.  Looking at everyone's plates that were licked clean said something. 

There is also a nice basket of bread full of onion and regular focaccia and really good bread sticks. 

For dinner, each entree looked delicious but I split the whole branzini roasted in salt with someone else.  They served this with roasted vegetables.  All good.  Plenty of olive oil but the flavors of the food really came out.

If and when I come back to Miami Beach, I might make reservations at Casa Tua for every night.

Art Basel, Miami

I don't really know where to begin.  What a scene, the prices are exorbitant, the wheeling and dealing is something to watch, the amount of art is overwhelming, just a big wow.  This picture is of all the booths in the calm before the storm.

I spent 6 hours yesterday over at the convention center doing the aisles.  I am with a friend who happens to be in the business which is helpful zeroing in on artists that are supposedly "hot or about to take off". 

I learned alot which is always a plus.  But, it is truly an overwhelming experience.  More later.

Being Late

Being late has to be on of my all time pet peeves. 

There are two kind of late people.  One is the person who just can't seem to get it together.  They must know that someone is waiting on them but can't seem to get it together to get out the door.  For instance, they are on the phone or have just started getting ready with very little time to spare.  They get to the event over an hour late.  Or worse, they are about 20-30 minutes late and just make the other person or their dinner compaions wait for them.  It says that my time is more important than your time.  Very rude. 

The other person is the overbooked person.  I guess I have more understanding of that.  They are always running to the next meeting with a few minutes to spare.  They do try and get there on time but it is tough because there are only 24 hours in a day.  Not acceptable but more understandable.  Just being late because you can be is completely unacceptable and rude.

My father was beyond prompt.  So is Fred's father.  We have taught our children that being on time is proper etiquette.  If you are going to be more than 15 minutes late, pick up the phone and call.  That is good manners.  Among other things, writing a thank you note (email or in a letter but each are personal and individual).  Bring something when you go to someone's house for dinner or a party. Say Thank you and please.  Listen to other people.  I could go on and on but the world of manners and etiquette these days appear to be going down the drain.

Sala's Gift

I just finished reading Sala's Gift, My Mother's Holocaust Story by Anne Kirschner.  Anne happens to sit on the Board of MOUSE, an organization that I chaired many years ago so I felt compelled to read her book.  I am so glad that I did.

I have read a variety of books about the Holocaust.  Family tales, historical information, etc.  This book is based on the letters that Anne's mother, Sala, had kept over the 6 years that she moved from camp to camp. Letters from her sisters, her friends, her suitors, etc. Her mother was part of the Nazi labor camps where the Jews were the labor, literally.  They built the highways, the roads, cleaned the soldiers clothes, etc.  Those camps were brutal but not as brutal as the grim places like Auschwitz.  Sala begins her journey at 16.  She was allowed to receive and send letters for many of the initial years and then letters tapered off as the war got worse. 

Anne has taken those letters, done significant research and put the story together.  In essence, Anne's mother, who never discussed her past as most Holocaust survivors don't, felt compelled to share these letters with Anne just before she went in for heart surgery.  I gather she didn't want to die on the operating table and wanted to be the one to share this information vs. being found after she was gone.  She survived and Anne was able to interview her and many others to write this book. The book consists of the letters and then information surrounding them that weaves the story. 

Today in the NYTimes, there is a small article that Iran has invited more than 60 scholars from over 30 countries to examine whether the Holocaust was true or a distortion of history, myth or just a propaganda tool to help create the country of Israel.  The names of the scholars weren't announced but I found it interesting that at this time that Iran was looking into the past history of Jews.  After all, there are over 25,000 Jews living in Iran.

Anne's mother, Sala lived through one of the most horrific crimes of the 20th Century.  Anne has written something that the Iranians might want to consider passing around at the forum they are about to hold. 

I am from..

Jessica sent this poem to me last night.  She is very proud of the work she did on this poem and wanted to share it with me.  I find these poems so insightful.  Emily did one this fall too.  Here is Jessica's take on the poem "Where I'm from"..

“Where I’m From”
by jessica wilson

I am from fluffy pillows,
From frosted cheerios and the art of delicious sushi,
I am from rubber bands, metal, and finally,
the feeling of newly freed teeth.
I am from 16 military wives and a pink robot named yoshimi,
I am from trigonometry and from parabolas,
I am from card games and craisins,
From family dinners and sliced turkey,
I am from Manhattan and Amagansett,
From Barney: the purple dinosaur and the store.
I am from friends who finish your sentences,
From politics and truth,
From getting bored easily but always wishing I could go back to normal,
I am from large quantities of water being consumed.   
From over – achievers and those who couldn’t care less,
I am from falling asleep at High Holiday services,
Waking up just in time to sing the sh’ma.
I am from family: the ones who sit in traffic with you, who you can’t help being proud of, and who repeat themselves over and over until there is nothing left to discuss.
I am from Emily and Josh,
Mom and Dad,
I am from Lucky, my golden retriever who I am allergic to but can’t help loving. 
I am from knowing blackberries mean phones and not fruit, and I am from them being a major part of my parents’ day. 
I am from knowing Bangkok, Rio de Janeiro, and Cape Town,
But still exploring New York City, my home of eleven years. 
From discovering new things and following old trends
I am from needing loud noises to put me to sleep, and that one moment of silence that makes your day.
I am from a time where nobody remembers life without his or her ipod. 
I am from tough losses and great wins,
From a game of basketball being trickier then your algebra final you took hours before.
Organized, yet why do I always misplace important things?
I am from lighting menorahs, from decorating Christmas trees. 
I never remember dreams; they are hidden from me when I’m awake, but come back when I am asleep again. 
I am from the moment you crawl into bed and continue a dream that could one day come true. 

Nobu Miami

Every year I say that I am going to go to Art Basel next year and I don't.  This year, if it wasn't for my friend conference calling me with her travel agent on the other end having already booked everything for me, I probably wouldn't have come but here I am.  I think the last time I was in Miami was probably 10 years ago.  A lot has happened in 10 years.

The "strip" of Collins Avenue is huge.  One big long shopping mall with restaurants and hotels mixed in between.  There is also a particular vibe about Miami.  It is the Latin vibe.  Miami is the porthole to or from South America depending on which way you look at it. 

Last night after checking in and washing up we walked down to Nobu for dinner.  I am literally just following my friend.  Whatever she has planned, I am good to go.  So Nobu last night, sure what time?

The restaurant is tucked behind the Shore Club Hotel.  The picture of the Shore Hotel is above.  Very ethereal.  I grabbed the picture on the way out.  Nobu on the other hand is completely different.  You can barely hear yourself think.  Not a drop of white in the entire place.  We were literally screaming at each other last night. 

The food was awful.  The service wasn't so great either.  They would serve us a dish and then we would get another dish like 20 minutes later at best.  The menu is the same all over the world but doesn't exactly taste the same.  The rock shrimp tempura in NYC is light and spicy and served over a salad.  Down in Miami the tempura was thick and almost inedible served on a tiny place.  The waitress had recommended a few things, one of them having garlic in it.  I told her I didn't eat garlic.  We ended up with a sashimi plate that had a small pile of raw sliced garlic on it.  I had no idea that it was garlic.  BTW, if you were a good waitress you would have made a note not to put amy garlic on the plate.  I ate a piece and am still feeling the repercussions this morning.  If it wasn't for being hungry and drinking lots of sake, I wouldn't have eaten as much as I did.  So disappointing.  Nobu has become the McDonald's of sushi.  I think now would be the time for the Myriad Group to consider selling. 

We strolled down Collins on the way home.  The streets are jammed.  The air is hot and humid.  I'm looking forward to a day in the art world.  More later.

Vintage Restaurants Cookbook

The past week I have read a few "best of" lists.   Best books, best music, best movies, best cookbooks.  Admittedly I have seen and read a majority of the "bests" and I have found most winners of the lists  just have the best publicists.  Sad but true. 

We were out in Sun Valley, Idaho this past March.  Lucky for us we ate dinner one night at Vintage Restaurant.    The whole experience was memorable.  When the Vintage Restaurant Cookbook landed in our kitchen this week, everyone recalled our meal and opened up the book to read each of the recipes.  Ooohs and aahs preceded.

This cookbook is a true labor of love.  It should also be on the "best cookbook" lists of 2006.  Something I rarely do is read the entire introduction.  Great story.  Jeff Keys, who is the chef and owner of Vintage found food just as much as food found him.  He was a California boy who found himself drawn to the ski mountains.  He found himself in Aspen making ski money as a dishwasher.  One night the chef didn't show up and Jeff found himself as the glorified chef of the evening and then for the rest of the evenings after that.  Bells and whistles went off and he found his passion.  Lucky for us. 

I actually shared this cookbook with the caterer I have used for 8 years.  He has done our big parties like the Bat Mitzvahs etc.  As any of my readers know, I am the caterer of the home even for dinner parties of 20 but for 100, I'll pass. Thom, the caterer, loved the book.  He is a total foodie too.  What comes through in the book is Jeff's love for food and the pursuit of new recipes.

Each main course is paired with the vegetables or starch that he puts the dish together in the restaurant.  He is a huge fan of smoking meats, fish etc.  Loves the marinade and rubs.  Each dish is really creative and nothing you have ever seen before.  The line on the book is "handcrafted cuisine from a sun valley favorite".  That sort of sums it up.

Just an idea of some of the recipes.  Here are some that popped out at me that I will be trying over the next few months.  Creamy Baked Onion Soup with Grilled Mushrooms (topped off with melted mozzarella), Seared Muscovy Drake Breast Moroccan Style (I will use Duck Breasts and it is served with a Moroccan type rice and a goat cheese spinach salad), Smoked Pork Tenderloin, Wine Country Style (pork in an Asian marinade, wild roast toasted pecan and sweet corn fritters, honey roasted red and green grapes and a tawny port pan sauce), Prawn and Goat Cheese Tart (with mango and avocado).  Do these not sound mouth watering and interesting. 

The recipes are well written with pictures too.  So if you are searching for that special cookbook to buy for the foodie in your life, pick up Vintage Restaurant Cookbook.

Gingerbread House

'Tis the season to make a Gingerbread House.  It is  really a fun activity.  Gets everyones creative juices flowing.  The hardest part is definitely making the house.  Fred devised the proper size patterns years ago with cardboard paper.  I use them once a year.  Just roll out the dough and use the cardboard for cutting the size.  The most difficult part is making that and then getting the house to stick together.  The fun part is buying the candy, coming up with the concept and gluing it all on.  Somehow I am always stuck with the difficult part.  Oh well. 

This house is yet to be finished. We went out for dinner in mid-stream but will finish later in the week.  I will post the finale then.