San Francisco, Here I Come!

One year ago today, I was walking across Golden Gate Bridge.

Exploring San Francisco on my own was one of the most amazing experiences. I fell in love with the funky city on the Bay, what with it's collection of fiercely individualistic neighborhoods, decadent food and drink, and of course - views a plenty.

Up until a couple weeks ago, San Fran wasn't even on my radar as a coming travel destination, but lady luck (okay, Bluegrass Brit) showed favor on me and is sharing some nearly expired buddy passes.

I jumped at the chance to jet off somewhere far from home.

After surveying Southwest's flight routes and exploring what several cities will have to offer in mid-January, I settled on San Francisco. It was a close fight - Restaurant Week in SF versus Restaurant Week in NYC versus a never-before-visited Seattle.

Ahh, San Francisco. One has to look no further than Hitchcock's Vertigo to understand why someone would fall in love with such a magical place.

Wingman is joining me for this trip. He is quick to tell you he's. been. everywhere. and happily, he signed up to fly the friendly skies with me in two weeks.

We're either going to be great friends or arch enemies after a jaunt out west.

My brain is in overdrive, considering what I want to accomplish in San Francisco.

I've walked Golden Gate (but would likely enjoy driving it), I've been to the Ferry Building/Embarcadero, Fisherman's Wharf and Pier 39. Don't mind revisiting the former, but would be just fine with skipping the rest.

I didn't get to go to Alcatraz or on a Bay cruise last year, so that may be in order this time around.

On my list of hopefuls: the Legion of Honor, Harvey Milk's photography shop and City Lights. I am still kicking myself for walking by -but not stopping in- that historic bookstore.

Of course, I have to have an Irish Coffee or two at The Buena Vista. Watching those tenders is like taking in high drama or a symphony of alcoholic precision. And the fashionista in me is toying with a trip to Lemon Twist for a custom made coat.

Hey, a girl can dream, right?

That we are visiting San Francisco during Restaurant Week is no coincidence. For all my exposure and interest in good food, Wingman's palate can run circles around mine, so I'm looking forward to getting schooled on dining while we're in CA.

We've thrown out the idea of daytripping to Napa, but who knows where whimsy will take us.

I'm kind of hoping to explore Berkley, too, as I've never explored the other places around the Bay. My parents and Rusty/The Divine Ms. M say Tiburon and Sausalito are spectacular, too.

I don't know what it is about travel.

The thought of adventure makes my heart dance. The opportunity for new experiences and a break from reality sounds delicious, and a chance to see a less familiar part of the world makes me feel one step closer to understanding humanity.

Schmaltzy, yes. But it's how I feel, folks.

Anybody out there with some good suggestions for traveling San Francisco?


Kate's Random Musings by Kate the Great is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.

Soup's On

I've always been a "souper."

It's a trait or preference first nurtured by my grandfather, who was always good for downing a huge bowl of Italian wedding soup.

"I even have a little machine that helps me make the meatballs," he'd say.

Minestrone, Miso and Mulligatawny. Chowder, Cheesy Potato or Chilled Cherry.

I've never met a soup I didn't like.

Christmas Eve was the perfect occasion for a hot, steamy bowl of soup. My mom thought since we would gorge ourselves on turkey and dressing the following day, lighter fare would be more appropriate that evening. We couldn't agree more. There's something about warming up with friendly conversation and a heaping bowl of soup on a winter's night.

Imagine our delight when our spoons dove into Barefoot Contessa's Roasted Vegetable Soup.

The recipe actually starts with Ina Garten's Roasted Winter Vegetables:

1 lb. carrots, peeled
1 lb. parsnips, peeled
1 large sweet potato, peeled
1 small butternut squash (about 2 lbs.) peeled and seeded
3 T good olive oil
1 1/2 tsp. kosher salt
1/2 freshly ground black pepper
2 T chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley

Preheat oven to 425 degrees.

Cut carrots, parsnips, sweet potato and butternut squash into 1 to 1 1/4 inch cubes. All vegetables will shrink while baking, so don't cut too small.

Place all vegetables in a single layer on two sheet pans. Drizzle them with olive oil, salt and pepper. Toss well. Bake for 25 to 35 minutes until the vegetables are tender, turning once with a metal spatula.

Sprinkle with parsley and season to taste.

For the soup:

6 to 8 cups chicken stock, preferably homemade
1 recipe Roasted Winter Vegetables
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
Good olive oil

In a large saucepan, heat 6 cups chicken stock (though my mom says bouillon cubes and water is just fine, too). In two batches, coarsely puree the roasted vegetables and the chicken stock in the bowl of a food processor fitted with the steel blade. Pour the soup back into the pot and season to taste. Thin with more chicken stock and reheat. The soup should be thick but not like a vegetable puree, so add more chicken stock and/or water until it's the consistency you like.

Drizzle with olive oil and serve with croutons.

(Ed note: my mom fried up some bacon and garnished the soup with fresh, crumbled bits. The smoky, salty flavor of the bacon was a perfect compliment to the soup).

Kate's Random Musings by Kate the Great is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.

My Life In Pictures

I know I've been AWOL.

Please don't hate me.

Life (the Holidays, family, friends, other obligations) got in the way of my posting. I imagine it got in the way of your routine, too.

Here's a glimpse at some of the chaos I weathered this past Saturday.

My days are never ordinary, that's for sure.

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9:30 AM - Chilling dark chocolate dessert cups ahead of the evening's dinner plans.



2 PM - Taking a break from the dinner preparations to pick up some new shoes. Michael Kors platform, snakeskin stilettos. $40, down from $130. Score.

6:30ish PM - Hanging out at Urgent Care in Oakley to pick up three stitches and a Tetanus shot after I had a run-in with a mandolin. For my non-cooking friends - I did not go to battle against a musical instrument. A mandolin is a flat plain device with a blade in the middle; it's used to slice vegetables very thinly.

It's also used to slice thumb flesh very thinly.

8:30 PM - Back to work in the kitchen after my First Aid hiccup. This is a pic of the most fabulous acorn squash dish. The squash is roasted and then dressed with a citrus/chili/cilantro dressing. Dynamite.

8:45 PM - Resting London Broil, prepared with a treasured family recipe marinade. I was not permitted to slice the meat or do anything that involved cutting for the rest of the evening.

8:45 PM - Potatoes Anna. The dish that was my downfall of the evening. Thankfully, my dinner company was quite comfortable working a mandolin and otherwise preparing this dish. The evening was redeemed.

8:55 PM - The plated meal in all its glory.

10 PM - What was the point of those balloons dipped in chocolate, anyway?? Here's a look at my "Hot Chocolate Mousse." You can find the recipe in the Junior League of Cincinnati's latest cookbook, Cincinnati Seasoned.

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Social Calendar

Who says there's nothing going on in Cincinnati?

I've found a bunch of fun stuff going on in the Queen City. Check your calendar and see what you can squeeze in during the next few weeks.

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Thursday December 24 - The Feast of Seven Fishes:
The owners of Bella Luna are welcoming you to a special family tradition. La Vigilia is an Italian Christmas Eve tradition that showcases seven varieties of fish. Bella Luna is serving up a seafood buffet with seafood cannelloni, shrimp Parmigiana, zuppa di pesce, sole fiorentina, smoked salmon rigatoni, cod piccata style, and salted baccala. There will also be pasta and meat choices. Salad, bread and dessert are included in the meal price of $26.95. 4632 Eastern Ave., Linwood. Call 513-871-5862 for reservations.

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Dec 29- "Loveland"
Ann Randolph's newest one-woman show about her hometown has been selling out in San Francisco. The play is about an irreverent, lovable woman as she travels back from LA to her childhood home in Ohio as she confronts the loss of the biggest love of her life. Mel Brooks has compared Randolph to Gilda Radner for her extreme brand of humor and ability to take us from tears to laughter in the same minute.

The author of "Squeeze-Box" brings the show to Cincinnati for one performance only (for her mom at the holidays). 7:30 p.m., Jarson-Kaplan Theater, Aronoff Center for the Arts, 650 Walnut St., Downtown. 513-621-2787. $22.

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New Year's Eve

Mynt Martini
This ultraluxe club on Fountain Square is launching with a grand opening on New Year’s Eve. Tickets are $40 a person. Owners spent $1.4 million decking out the space - the venue will regularly feature a five hour happy hour with five dollar appetizers and five dollar cocktails.

Tonic on 4th
Cincinnati native Boom Bip (aka Bryan Hollon) will DJ at Tonic on 4th on New Year's Eve. Tonic is only selling 150 tickets for the special event ($45 per person), which includes a champagne toast at midnight, two drink tickets with entry before 9 pm, and one drink ticket after 9 pm.

CSL New Year’s Eve Party
The ever-popular CSL New Year's bash is taking over Oakley's 20th Century once again. Tickets are $70 per person and include a ticketed bar with guests receiving six tickets for Bud Light bottles and four tickets for Smirnoff Pineapple, Smirnoff Pear or Crown Royal cocktails. Guests will also enjoy a champagne toast at midnight and a buffet with a variety of hors d'oeuvres, desserts and coffee. The Paul Otten Band will entertain the crowd.

FB’s
FB's on 6th Street is partnering with Moet, Chandon, & Belvedere for a limited-ticket event on New Year's Eve. For $50 a person, guests will enjoy their own champagne split and specials on a variety of champagne cocktails. Table service is available for $500, which includes a magnum bottle of Chandon and a magnum bottle of Belvedere.
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Cincinnati Art Museum
Through January 3 - Roaring Tigers, Leaping Carp
This collection of over 100 pieces of painting and sculpture delves into the symbolism of animals in Chinese art.

Through January 17 - Imperishable Beauty
Late 19th and early 20th Century jewelry from France, Germany, Austria and the U.S.

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Friday January 8 - Junior League of Cincinnati Lounge Party at Hugo
The Junior League of Cincinnati lounge party is the perfect opportunity to catch up with friends after the holidays. Guests can enjoy drink specials from 8 - 10 pm and a variety of sophisticated Southern dishes.

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January 12 Spring Awakening at the Aronoff
This Tony Award-winning rock musical is very racy and a little bit controversial. Set in Late 19th Century Germany, this show explores the discovery of sex, and how younger and older generations view eroticism differently. Music by Duncan Sheik.



Kate's Random Musings by Kate the Great is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.

RIP Chris Henry

He coulda been a contender.

Sure, he had the talent and the opportunity, but Chris Henry never really made it big for what he was intended. His body, his innate design was meant for gridiron greatness, but Henry's ability to achieve was clouded with his many hangups with the law.

An extensive rap sheet full of arrests for DUI, assault, marijuana possession and criminal damaging, Henry's illegal entanglements did more to tarnish his reputation and threaten his future as a wide receiver in the NFL.

But something happened, and Chris Henry finally learned a tough lesson - we all have to play by the rules. He started cleaning up his checkered act after a four-game suspension in the 2008 season, and finished with 19 receptions for 220 yards and two touchdowns.

I had an interesting brush with the Cincinnati Bengal just about a month ago. It could have turned into a bit of drama, but he made it quite apparent he didn't want any trouble - he just wanted some pizza.

Some of my friends and I stopped by Lucy Blue in Over-the-Rhine for some late night 'za after an event at Music Hall. We waited in our heels and hose, teeth chattering in the November cold, when a strapping gentleman strode to the head of the line.

A dear friend of mine, a scrappy attorney who is busy making change in Greater Cincinnati, was none too pleased to be bypassed by this guy. She puffed up her chest and offered a brief exchange, essentially threatening to kick his ass with her stilettos.

That's when a gentleman friend of ours whispered to me, "Hey. Does she know she's trying to pick a fight with Chris Henry?"

My friend tossed a few barbs at him, but Henry stood there silently, leaning against the pick-up window in a hoodie and a pair of jeans. I smiled and tossed out a comment along the lines of Hey shouldn't you be getting ready for tomorrow's game?

The man grew quiet and said, "I'm not who you think I am. Besides, the Bengals are in Oakland. And I'm here."

"Yeah, but you're on the D-L," I replied.

Chris Henry smiled, grabbed his pizza and hopped in the back of a big, shiny black SUV.

He just wanted some pizza. No trouble. No fanfare. No confrontation.

Pizza.

He coulda been a contender.

*** *** *** ***

In closing, here's what Chris Henry says, in his own words, about the transformation his life has experienced.

Godspeed.





Kate's Random Musings by Kate the Great is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.

Saint Clare of Assisi

Dear Patron Saint of Television Workers,

Please watch over George Stephanopolous-or-however-you-spell-it as he takes on his first week of replacing Diane Sawyer on Good Morning America.

Help George to aspire to having a personality more congenial than a cardboard cereal box. Allow George to make superfluous, editorial comments that do more than show him to be impersonal and lacking depth.

Give George some shoe lifts or an overnight growth spurt or something comparable that helps change the current appearance that he is Robin Roberts' ventriloquist dummy and they're about to perform a trick with a glass of water.

Teach George levity (has his marriage to Ali Wentworth done nothing to break this man's steely exterior?) and give him the gift of approachability.

And if all else fails, unleash Sawyer's fembot clone.

I am fighting off making the switch to Today (or, God forbid, the Early Show).

Kisses,
Kate
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

Serves You Right

This is a blog post I wrote for my office blog. It's an important theme to me, so I thought I'd share it here, too. Enjoy.

Kate

I think I was 13 the first time I walked into United Way's building on Reading Road.I wasn't the organization's youngest intern, and I wasn't beginning my career as an 8th grader.

No, I was seeking out a volunteer opportunity as part of a confirmation obligation.

My mom took me to the "Community Chest" building, as it was called back in the day, to meet with someone who could place me with an assignment that fit our family's schedule and availability. After all, someone had to drive me to this mythical volunteer opportunity, right?This was a commitment for my parents just as much as it was for me.

My recollection is hazy, but I remember sitting in a staff member's cube (it's killing me that I can't remember who it was, but then again, I was 13) for about 15 minutes or so, then leaving with an assignment at a senior center/nursing home facility in Montgomery.

My first day was scary - I had never really interacted with adults without my parents, and I wasn't quite as confident on my own. I also was a bit uneasy about seeing some of the seniors who needed more care. I didn't know how to communicate with them, and I wasn't sure if they wanted to communicate with me.

Over time, I really enjoyed the experience - making crafts and singing songs with the residents. I also loved it when they told me jokes or let me wheel their chairs to their rooms for them.

Truth be told, I was also a big fan of spending a couple bucks on soda and candy at the nursing home's vending machines.

The experience was my first foray in volunteering, and it helped me realize how important it is to give back what you can.For me, it's time.

Twenty years later, a good chunk of my personal life is dedicated to voluntarism. Just last night, I spent a couple hours singing Christmas carols, stringing lights on a tree and enjoying cupcakes with children staying at a local battered women's shelter. While the moms joined us for the festivities, they all insisted the occasion was a way for the children to have a fun holiday moment in light of personal difficulty.

"Thanks for coming here and letting the kids have a nice evening," said one mom to me as another woman's baby sat in her lap, complete with rosy cheeks.

That's all the thanks I really need when volunteering. In fact, I don't really need any thanks. I'd much prefer a quality, one-on-one moment with an individual with whom I can pay my blessings forward.

And maybe a trip to the vending machine.


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Strangest Dream Ever

The wedding was at a country club.

At least, that's what I could surmise.

Bluegrass Brit and I showed up dressed in our finest - I think there may have been some ruching, taffeta and even sequins. We walked by a kelly green lawn when we discovered a sparkling pool with little, tan girls running around, squealing and horse playing along the edge of the turquoise waters.

Brit said it looked like fun. So we hightailed it to the Ladies' Lounge at the clubhouse and stripped out of our dresses, pantyhose and heels and put on something more appropriate for swimming beneath an azure sky.

I don't really remember any elements of us swimming, but what I do remember next in the sequence is us, standing over a balcony (in our bathing suits), watching the bridal party and guests arriving for the ceremony (or was this after the ceremony that we missed because of our swimming?). Not really germane to the dream, the groom was an unnamed Cincinnati council member. The women were all wearing elaborate gowns and dresses made of candy.

Yes. Made of candy.

The groom's mother was in a sugar spun confection that made her look like the Queen of Hearts. Sparkly, wispy and white, it had a sort of cape that fanned behind her head (have you ever seen any of Cate Blanchett's Elizabeth flicks?), accentuated by candied hearts.

The outfit was certainly sweet, but her chilly smirk was anything but. I think she was pissed because Brit and I were giggling and in our bathing suits - I think maybe we had reverted and become part of the little, tan girls I mentioned earlier, instead of the 30-something women we really are.

Another woman had a crazy dress right out of the Bill Cosby Sweaters collection - squiggles made of Twizzlers, gum drops and I think even some shreds of Big League Chew.

At this point, Brit and I decided we were missing out on a helluva party, so we ran back to the Ladies' Lounge at the club house, anxious to get our dresses back on.

I distinctly remember yelling, "But I can't find my Spanx! I can't find my Spanx!"

That's when Brit called up her husband, 007, who brought her makeup and other primping supplies.

007 couldn't find my Spanx, but I managed to put pantyhose on my still-wet legs and head to the party.

And then I woke up.

How bizarre.


Kate's Random Musings by Kate the Great is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.

Random News Nuggets

First, the bad news:

The more attractive you're perceived, the more wealth and respect you'll earn in the workplace. Forbes says a study at Cornell University shows women who advance at work are more attractive, thinner, taller and have a more youthful appearance than colleagues who are promoted less often. You can read more in Susan's post on Working Moms Against Guilt.

My wishes for a Christmas elliptical trainer can't come to fruition soon enough.

*** *** ***

Now the good news (at least for my single friends):

Singletons - there's no reason to sulk and feel like a societal castoff. As it turns out, those folks who are over 40 and never-married are better adjusted psychologically than their married counterparts. A study in the Journal of Social and Personal Relationships looked at:

"...three measures of psychological resources, including personal mastery (the degree people think they have control over things in life, which is important to avoid depression), agency (the tendency to focus on oneself, which is good for mental health) and self-sufficiency (a sense of autonomy, which is also linked with better mental health).

The never-married participants do tend to have fewer social resources, she (Jamila Bookwala) said. "In general they tend to report less [perceived] support from families than marrieds."

But the higher the never-married individuals scored on those psychological resources, the better their emotional well-being, she found. Better, even, than the married folks, if they scored high on those measures..."

I guess this means I'll be a pretty emotionally grounded person if I hit 40 sans husband.

Hat tip to @ChenneyC for posting this nugget on Twitter.

*** *** ***

Cincinnati Bengal and renaissance man extraordinaire Dhani Jones is showing another series of photos at Country Club on Madison Rd. in Oakley. Launching with an opening this Friday night from 7 to 10 PM, I am hoping these pics from Senegal are as genuine and reflective as the showing he unveiled in October.

To get you in the mood for Jones' photos from West Africa, check out this piece in the NYT about Senegal's music scene.

Who's ready to go to Dakar?

*** *** ***
Celebrity chefs - I can take 'em or leave 'em. Paula Deen is okay, but I would pretty much rather gouge out my eyes over the prospect of watching Rachael Ray or Sandra Lee.

But, Nigella. That woman is a wonder to behold.

I first fell in love with Nigella four years ago while watching her short lived Nigella Bites (originally made for the BBC but rebroadcast on E! during the earlier part of this decade). In one episode, she and a BFF dove in to a bowl of homemade guacamole - first eating it, then smearing it all over their faces, while Nigella's voice over extolled the virtues of avocado on skin.

Nigella has a new Christmas cookbook out, and it includes a few gift ideas - including homemade chutney and preserves, as well as a variety of make ahead dishes.

*** *** ***
When you head to this season's holiday parties, some of you may choose to sip on one of the most traditional cocktails around - the Martini. The San Francisco Chronicle has a great piece all about the traditional libation, breaking down the drink's history, proportion of ingredients, variations and preparation techniques.

I like mine up, dirty with gin, garnished with blue cheese olives.

Who's buying?


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Sip a Tipple

Everything happens for a reason.

It sounds trite, but it's a personal philosophy I hold near and dear - which leads me to wonder if the universe was working in harmony and leading me to delay posting this piece by a month and a half.

I met cocktail expert Molly Wellmann by chance when some of my friends and I stopped by Lavomatic after a Cincinnatus Association meeting. It was a heady, discuss-the-issues evening, and we were happy to unwind and lighten things up with a cocktail.

We had no idea what awaited us.

An effervescent gal was behind the bar, radiating fun and excitement about her craft. We were happy to oblige.

I returned to Lavomatic with the intent to pick Molly's brain about seasonal crafted cocktails, and was impressed by a brief list of thoughtfully designed drinks.
.

Molly Wellmann's Fall In A Glass - with Zwack, dry vermouth and cinnamon tincher

Bluegrass Brit and I combed over the list and tried smaller versions of these cocktails, starting with a Butternut Squash-tini, complete with Molly's homemade falarenum, a mixer made with rum, ginger, limes, clove and nutmeg. Molly treated us to a variety of other seasonal sips, some smoky with cachaca (a liqueur made of sugar cane that is grown at high altitudes in Brazil) and others warm and hinting of caramel tones. Gotta love bourbon.

You don't need to have a conversation with Molly to discover her talents - a good set of taste buds will lead you to make your own decision about this woman's skill, which makes the best of fresh ingredients and patiently manipulates them into perfection.

Indian Summer - named after a Broadway show - with sunshine bitters, Lillet and champagne

What I really enjoy about Molly is her passion for the drink.

A well-read cocktail historian, the tattooed beauty can tell you the roots about the beloved Martini (the original was first called a Martinez) and can also recommend a solid brunch cocktail if you're wanting something other than a Bloody Mary or a Mimosa (Molly suggests a Corpse Reviver - there are several versions, she'll make whichever one suits your palate).

Molly is a Cincinnati native who spent a stint in San Francisco before returning to our dear Queen City. A self taught mixologist, she relies on her beloved copy of the Savoy Cocktail Book, which was originally published in 1930 and has more than 750 libations to love.

Few bartenders in Cincinnati make their own bitters - Molly has a variety of them to alter the dimensions of your drink du jour. Also capable of making her own flavored liqueurs, Ms. Wellmann says she's also a skilled jeweler and nutritionist.



A woman who can make my drink sparkle *and* healthy - who could ask for anything more?

Molly recently parted ways with Lavomatic, which makes me wonder if the delay of my writing this blog post was kismet.

For weeks I was coping with technology problems involving both my computer and video camera - now that it's all worked out, I'm thrilled I get to write about Molly Wellmann's talents and the huge opportunity that awaits a local cocktail establishment.

Molly is seeking a chance to serve up sparkling cocktails at another lounge or bar - and her adoring fans (and there are many) are anxious to see where she lands.

Interested parties can reach Molly Wellmann at MollyWellmann@mac.com.

Who's thirsty?



Kate's Random Musings by Kate the Great is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.

Lots Still To Learn

32 was a pile of crap.

Actually, it was three piles of crap.

A year and a day ago, I started my birthday celebration by cleaning up three, very soupy piles of dog shit. I was house sitting, and one of my charges (Bluegrass Brit's beloved Branston Pickle) apparently came down with a digestive ailment.

I took my clean up duty as a sign of what was to come over the next year.

The rest of 32 ebbed and flowed the way life tends to do. I marked the closure of tumultuous relationships and started new, thought provoking and stimulating ones. I learned family forgives when you make a mistake, but has a hard time forgetting.

I learned (the hard way - not once, but twice) your car really will get towed by the cash-strapped cops if you have too many tickets or expired plates.

But 32 wasn't all dog crap and run-ins with the 5-0.

This year also showed me how great it feels to get involved in the community. It was my first time volunteering for and digging in to local politics.

I discovered I have what it takes to design and develop a pretty nice looking cookbook. I nurtured existing relationships and forged new ones - many based on a mutual commitment to support a movement of change in Greater Cincinnati. I embraced new work responsibilities and challenges, grateful for the opportunity of a daily job.

I saw the West Coast - twice - for the first time, and firmly decided I prefer the city to the desert.

This year brought with it a new niece to love while I coped with the ongoing grief of losing her big sister.

32 was a mixed bag of blessings and challenges, and in many ways I am grateful for both.

Yesterday morning when I woke up, there was no dog crap to clean up. No, instead, I remembered the Rabbit Rabbit trick shared by Udandi.

I'm always looking for an opportunity to fortify my chances of good luck. I renewed my license plates the day before my birthday - so at least I have that going for me.

Here's to hoping 33 is far less shitty than 32.


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Getting Old Ain't For Sissies

-Bette Davis

33 is coming in with a roar.

The banner week continues Tuesday, thanks to a special bon anniversaire lunch with my boss. I've requested an outing to Mayberry, and am dying to sink my teeth into the Vine Street hot spot's culinary creations.

Then Tuesday evening, dinner in the 'burbs with my parents. Mom is whipping up French Silk Pie - it's a dessert she could never make properly in Connecticut (I think our being at sea level messed with the pie's ability to set), and I'm anxious to enjoy it once again in Cincinnati.

Wednesday is an outing to Southgate House and tickets to hear Chuck Prophet. Jos took me to see this band a few years ago, and we're catching their latest visit to the Tri-State. Chuck's music is folksy and electronic, and his stage presence/energy is almost palpable. Looking forward to catching this show in Newport - tickets are $12 in advance, and $15 at the door.

Thursday is a 90 minute, full body massage, courtesy of my BFF, Bluegrass Brit. I've never had a massage before, so I'm looking forward to this physical indulgence. My only concerns involve a) how much personal grooming is required before this event and b) what kind of underwear is appropriate.

I have a date with Ursula at Pure Concepts - I hear she's great at deep tissue massages (gosh, this is really turning into a dirty joke, isn't it?), but I don't know if I'm quite ready for that manhandling. Pure Concepts rounds out their massages with an aromatherapy sensory journey, a foot bath and herbal steam shower.

Quite the way to ring in 33, eh?

Friday is a day of sleeping in - I'm off work, and will likely enjoy the extra winks after the previous day's intense massaging. Lunch is an outing with a group of co-workers - it's in recognition of the significant financial commitment we've made to United Way; afterwards I'll be tying up loose ends before attending my birthday party, thrown by two dear friends on Friday evening.

Saturday is lunch with one of the most interesting couples I know in town - they have strong ties to Minnesota, so I'm introducing them to my parents, who met and married in Minneapolis. Then it's another birthday party, this time for Sweet.

Sunday just snagged a housewarming/open house.

If this is how the rest of 33 is going to be, I'm gonna need some serious botox and rest by 34.



Kate's Random Musings by Kate the Great is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.

Two Of A Kind

I guess this is a common theme among creatures named Kate.
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

Let's Talk Turkey

Ahhh, the big holiday is almost here.

The day when so many Americans strive, aspire and hope for a scene out of a Norman Rockwell painting, and typically end up with something as tangled and chaotic as Pollock.

If you're like most folks, you'll be getting a huge dose of family togetherness Thursday. Between the meal preparation, football watching, binging on virtually every carb known to man and the food coma that follows - that's a lot of opportunity for snark.

Fear not, gentle reader. You're not alone. The NYT has a great piece that offers ways to diffuse your holiday gathering, including setting ground rules on the kinds of comments allowed at the dining room table.

If all else fails, I think the BINGO card mentioned in the piece is quite clever. How many times can we write in passive aggression in a square?

*** *** ***

Many of us are traveling over the river and through the wood to get to Grandmother's house for Thanksgiving. Whether you are flying, driving or riding the rails, you don't have to be a member of MENSA to know all channels of travel will be jam packed these next few days.

The American Automobile Association says 38.4 million of us will travel more than 50 miles for the Thanksgiving holiday. Newsday says any drop in air travel congestion won't be noticeable to the average person - so be prepared to wait in epic lines and suffer the scourge of crying babies everywhere.

If you are really needing an escape from your jet setting brethren, I suggest you consult these sources for information on the best airport bars around.

*** *** ***

Maybe Thanksgiving isn't your bag, baby. Maybe you're all about mowing down people with big, hulkish shopping carts and aisles cluttered with crap at Wal-Mart.

I don't judge*.

USA Today says 1 in 10 shoppers will arrive for Black Friday shopping between midnight and 3 a.m. Other, more reasonable folks (coping with tryptophan comas and tension cocktail-induced hangovers) will save their holiday shopping for the Internets.

The AJC has a good write-up on the online tools that help shoppers find the best deals as they set out to arm wrestle aggressive soccer moms for the last Zhu Zhu Pet in Target.

Good luck. I'll be thinking of you as I sleep in and enjoy a Mimosa.

*I don't really judge - but I *do* have to question the judgment of anyone who prefers to shop at Wal Mart. Of all the Big Box stores, it has singlehandedly done the most damage in destroying Main Street U.S.A.



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I Want You To

I can't get this Weezer/Sara Bareilles song out of my head.





Kate's Random Musings by Kate the Great is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.

Deciphering Dreams

I am clutching a baby and running for our lives.

Through dusky city streets and neighborhoods, I run. My feet pound the asphalt while I clutch this child, my head whipping around to see if they're still chasing us in the dark.

Never, during the course of the dream, did I figure out who exactly was chasing us. I only remember a strong conviction to protect the baby.

And whose baby? I have no idea.

The dream ended abruptly, my heart pounding and my head racing with concern and need to protect an imaginary baby.

The haze cleared and I remembered reality - I don't have a baby, and nobody is trying to take one away from me. Once I settled back into the circumstances of my universe, I began considering the underlying meaning of such a subconscious fantasy.

Rather than instantly consider the obvious, I decided to follow a friend's suggestion and explore an online dream dictionary, which explained babies in dreams symbolize innocence, warmth and new beginnings. The chasing supposedly means the dreamer is avoiding a situation that is not believed to be conquerable.

Someone else suggested perhaps I am striving to fiercely protect an idea, dream or project, despite criticism and the absence of support.

A high school acquaintance said the dream means I'm ready to be a mom.

The remainder of the comments underscored that sentiment - and I can't say I disagree with the philosophy. It was the obvious conclusion to draw, but I sure as hell wanted to consider the possibility of alternate meanings.

The fact is, I think I am ready to be a mom and wife, but perhaps the universe isn't ready for me.

And it's during these feelings of frustration and mild disappointment that I lean on my faith and strong conviction that patience is a virtue with spectacular rewards.

I guess these dreams are appropriate for a woman of my age. Many 30-something gals tend to hear their biological clock at some point during this decade. Some of us have the ability to make good on that physical and emotional yearning, some of us don't.

Worst case scenario - I just may have a baby on my own. It's a drastic but admirable adventure to embark on alone, and something I wouldn't do without serious thought. Becoming a single mom is a prospect I'd likely entertain in my 40s; I'm still quite young and well aware of how quickly life can change.

Until then, I'm going to keep the faith and be the best damn aunt I can be.

That is one reality I am relishing.

My favorite angel

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Everything's Coming Up Roses

And hydrangeas, lilies, and daisies.

Flowers at the office are highly underrated.

Also, someone dropped the (Flower) Bomb on me this morning. Trying out the beloved Viktor & Rolf scent today. It may be *too* flowery for me - at least for this time of year.

I tend to prefer something with some spice - I really dig Bond No. 9's Andy Warhol Lexington Avenue scent. It's sweet, it's spicy and is billed as a "gourmand" scent.

Where can you go wrong with that?

What's your favorite autumn scent?

I am exhausted...

Dancing and debauchery has a way of wearing out a girl.

I have effectively removed all sparkles and feathers after last night's Late Night at the Moulin Rouge, and am settling in to nap mode before the Bengals game and Mass.

Yes, I said Mass.


xoxo,
K

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After

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The Virgins and Sacrificial Lambs Are Disposed Elsewhere

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This Is Before...

I have no idea what After is going to look like.

But I'm toying with "drastic."

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We're Not In Kansas (or Cincinnati) Anymore

I love funky stuff.

Funky people, funky events, funky places - I absolutely eat that shit up with a spoon. Give me a day in the Village or Cambridge or Camden Town or anyplace with vintage boutiques, ethnic and vegetarian eateries and a crowd of outrageous dye jobs, and I am a blissed out, happy girl.

On rare occasions, I've been known to expose a bit of the funky depths of my persona. Thinking back through the chronicles of my life, I remember a tongue ring, chunky lugged black shoes, overly tweezed skinny eyebrows, black shirts, black pants, black skirts, black everything.

I certainly wasn't Goth or a cutter or cool enough to know about The Jesus and Mary Chain; like I said, funky is just a facet of my persona - I aspire to be more funky each and every day.

It wasn't always that way.

My parents met and married in the Twin Cities. They moved around a bit and returned to Minneapolis with a blonde, ringleted girl in tow (me) and another on the way.

After about four years of living near Lake Minnetonka, we packed up the house and headed south to Cincinnati - home of Johnny Fever and the rest of the gang. That was my exclusive knowledge base about Cincinnati when I was six - it wasn't really a draw in my book.

But I digress.

Fast forward a couple years. When I was, oh, about eight or so, and Brigid was five or six, we all took a family vacation up to Minnesota. It was an opportunity to see my Duluth-based grandparents, spend some time in several of the 10,000 lakes and catch up with my parents' old Twin Cities friends.

During this particular trip, my parents decided to cruise us through Uptown, which is probably the funkiest neighborhood in Minneapolis. It was a summer evening in 1985, and there we were, rolling through an urban jungle full of vibrantly colored mohawks, studded leather jackets and other eccentric fashion selections.

It was at this point in the adventure when I was quoted as exclaiming, "Oh my God. This is scary. Lock the doors!"

According to legend, my father looked at my mother and said, "Looks like we've been in Cincinnati too long."

I guess the homogenization of Cincinnati's suburbs had rubbed off on me - and I was frightened by the unknown. Granted, I was raised by a woman who took plays directly out of The Official Preppy Handbook, but my parents were open minded people and I guess a little shocked their little girls didn't feel comfortable with the unorthodox.

Time marched on and I am grateful my parents took many other opportunities to expose us to funky. I am SO grateful for that. My life wouldn't be what it is today if I didn't love the funky.

Here's to hoping we can make Cincinnati a little funkier.


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New Moon

I've got a hot date tonight.

GOP Big Wig and I are double dating with Edward and Jacob. I confessed to GOP this morning that I've already seen New Moon (Double Platinum scored preview tickets, and he was kind enough to invite me to join him), but I'm looking forward to seeing the flick again.

I cannot express to you how spectacularly stunning Edward and Jacob are in the movie.

Hot-with-a-w-hawt.

The movie includes a couple guest stars you might not expect to see in the Twilight franchise:





Here's to hoping Jacob (and Rookwood) survives Sarah Palin's wrath.


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See and Be Scene Friday

This weekend's main event dishes up sparkling seduction.

The glitterati will turn out for Late Night at the Moulin Rouge - afterparty event that follows the annual Cincinnati Opera Gala, Bal du Moulin Rouge.

This is one of *the* parties of the year. If you've been there, then you know what I mean. If you haven't, you've missed out.

Thankfully you can put on a feather boa and join us tomorrow evening.

Tickets are $30 in advance (mind you, this special price will close online after sometime Saturday morning) or $40 at the door.

For the price of admission, you will have an opportunity to enjoy fine dining by the bite, cash bar, the hottest sounds from DJ Sebastian and some thrilling moves by an aerialist.

The party goes from 10 pm to 2 am - if you need to jump start your evening a little earlier, FB's on 6th Street is hosting a pre-party with cocktail specials including a French Kiss martini.

Ooh la la.

See you there!

xoxo,
KtG


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A Few Random Nuggets

The newshound in me is always hungry.

At least today's news sates my need for the savory.

First up - Lobster Bisque. Have you ever had something so fantastic? Buttery, salty, rich? The creamy, peachy-salmon soup is the meal of choice for rich and poor men alike in the Northeast.

In my high school and college days, I'd scoop ladles of hot lobster bisque into bowls straight from the waitress station at the Wharf Restaurant/Madison Beach Hotel. Sometimes the ladle would include a massive piece of lobster, sometimes not.

The nice customers always got the bowls with the lobster chunks.

God, now I'm dying for a trip to New England. Time to assess my future forecast.

Also from the NYT (aside: can you believe there are actually people in this universe who do not read this newspaper? These people are dead to me), Thanksgiving is a week away - are you ready to slay the dragon that is your holiday dinner? Make it easy on yourself and prepare one item each day leading up to next Thursday. Here's a handy list of 101 dishes that you can make ahead - allowing for more merriment (or for some of you, cocktails and forced togetherness) on the big day.

Speaking of the big day, the traditional Thanksgiving meal deserves a big finish. I tend to stay true to my mom's treasured Derby Pie recipe when making a dessert for the holidays - the chocolate and pecan concoction is a perfect way to wrap a special day. And while my made-from-scratch pie crust is legendary, I might be willing to try something different. Say, a pie crust made with bacon and bourbon?

Who knew the folks in Los Angeles could come up with a new inventive way to pair my favorite spirit with my favorite it's-not-just-for-breakfast meat?

And of my favorite spirit, someone in San Diego is just noticing this speakeasy trend that I blogged about 15 months ago. The Gaslamp Gal suspects bourbon is the new "it" liquor, what with all of the crafted cocktails cropping up with bourbon as the main event.

Bourbon may be the new "it" liquor in the Golden State, but it's been a mainstay in the Bluegrass for an eternity.

Thank God for that.


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Take Me To The Airport

The Cincinnati Enquirer is asking people to share their story of thanks this holiday season. I've reposted my submission below. Enjoy.

Jay Leno has this quote.

He tells you to go through your address book and call everyone you know, and ask them to drive you to the airport. The people who agree to help out are true friends. Those who don't aren't bad people... they're just acquaintances.

As I push on through my 30s, I realize how precious my friendships are. Family - I adore them, they're who I came from and what made me who I am today. But I didn't pick 'em.

Friends? They're each sparkling treasures I found and am lucky to call my own.

I can't express how grateful I am to have a circle of friends who have made a great substitute for family in this single girl's world. These inspirational beings encourage me, make me laugh and give me a hand to hold as I walk this road of life alone.

But not lonely.

My list of acquaintances is long, but so is my list of people who I know would take me to the airport.

Hell, I hope they're all coming along on the trip.


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Spectacular Evening

Everyone should be so blessed to have an evening so full of love and friendship.

I had the extreme pleasure of celebrating Chris Seelbach's 30th birthday Saturday evening. If you don't know Chris, he is a spectacular catalyst for change in Greater Cincinnati. If you DO know Chris, then you know exactly what I mean.

The festivities started with an intimate dinner for 20 at Chris and Craig's Main Street condo. The space was beautifully decorated by the talented Joe Rigotti.

Green is Chris's favorite color, and it was repeated in the stunning cabbage rose table arrangements and other accents.


The menu included four items from Cincinnati Seasoned - I was excited to help Chris plan a dinner of several vegetarian courses. Chris's mother spent the entire day preparing the meal, which included an appetizer of grape truffles, stuffed sweet red peppers and a cucumber finger sandwich. Mrs. Seelbach said she was hesitant about the second course, a cream of Brie soup, because she substituted soy milk for whole milk.

It was spectacular.

The main course was a fabulous, Tuscan pasta dish. The meal finished with slices of Granny Smith apples and caramel drizzle. Delish.

At the conclusion of the dinner, each guest gave a 30 second toast in Chris's honor. Candace, always the eloquent speaker, was heartfelt and very touching. Me? I gave Chris a dash of humor and a bit of sentiment with my Top 5 Tips For Turning 30, inspired by thoughts I had when I turned 30.

After the dinner, the party traveled on to Adonis to meet 200 of Chris and Craig's closest friends. Cincinnati's a great town - it's fun when you discover your friend's social circle is very similar to your own.

I spent the evening with 5chw4r7z, Don't Call Me Mrs. and 007 (Bluegrass Brit's husband).

Here's my BFF, Bluegrass Brit (right), with our friend, Jenny.

The crowd was asked to arrive at Adonis promptly at 7:30 pm to catch a phenomenal show by Amy and Freddy. You may recognize them - they were finalists in America's Got Talent. I love this act. Amy is bawdy, genuine and very honest. She's able to share the ups and downs of life in a way that leads the crowd to simultaneously roar with laughter and grow wistful with shared empathy.

I also adore Amy because she is unabashedly confident about her curves - something we zaftig sisters need to embrace a bit more from time to time. Being the party's unofficial representative of the Cincinnati Curvy Sisters Brigade (I just made that up, but maybe it should exist. Thoughts?), Amy and I became fast friends.


I liked Amy and Freddy so much that I bought them a round of cocktails after their first set. Amy likes Crown on the rocks, Freddy likes his straight up.


The evening was such a special night - the love for Chris and Craig was palpable, and I was so blessed to be a part of it.

All stunning photos by Mark Byron Photography.

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Big Hair

I am channeling my inner Breck girl today - circa 1982.

This is what happens when the water company tells you they're shutting off the building's water at 2:30 in the morning and you decide to bathe before you go to sleep and then discover you're too tired to do your hair at 12:30 am but know if you don't you'll wake up with the most hideous "White Trash Wave" this side of Brown County so you reluctantly put velcro rollers in your hair and then wrap a T-shirt around your head because you don't have any do-rags but know that when ladies wear curlers to bed in the movies they usually wear a scarf or something to contain all that is glorious then you struggle to sleep at night because Hello you have plastic rollers the size of coke cans in your hair but finally catch a few winks and dream of sharing a cigarette with a Jake Gyllenhaal-like character who is working as a clerk in a rustic bookstore and ignoring the crowd of customers assembling because he was enjoying a moment with me discussing the legalization of marijuana until we were so rudely interrupted by the persistent alarm on my BlackBerry.

Yeah, that's how I did my hair today.

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