Hawleyblog

A Visit From the Gerbers With a Review of Glee Thrown In

The Gerbers came to the city on Thursday evening so we could all go to the 11th Annual Family Party fundraiser for the Brooklyn Botanic Garden's educational programs for kids. Mike and Matt did lots of arts-and-crafts projects, and David successfully bid on a package of New York Yankee tickets in the silent auction. And we all enjoyed some delicious food and drink, including two of my favorite things: macaroni and cheese and malbec.

Earlier in the week, I'd watched the pilot episode of Glee, which I'd gotten for free from iTunes. I decided to give it a shot after reading Craig's three-OMG review on Puntabulous. I thought it was only OK overall, but it's definitely got potential and the music was a ton of fun. I hope the writing gets sharper as the series progresses. As in most high school–based TV shows, the characters are mostly just broad stereotypes. Did we really need another angry, presumably lesbian gym teacher?* That she's played by the excellent Jane Lynch mitigates some of my annoyance. The acting is good across the board, and I especially love Lea Michele, who created the role of Wendla in Spring Awakening, as the very driven and much-maligned Rachel. Her singing voice is absolutely gorgeous. Cory Monteith, who plays football quarterback Finn, doesn't have a strong voice—Michele blows him out of the water when they sing together—but it's pleasing to the ear. And Matthew Morrison, who stars as Will, the Spanish teacher who takes over the glee club, is, in addition to being a fine actor, mighty damn pleasing to the eyes. Morrison also has a Broadway connection; he created the role of Link in Hairspray.

I bought both songs from the pilot that are available on iTunes. I've been listening to "Don't Stop Believin'" almost obsessively. Unlike Journey's original version, it's got horns and some doo-woppy nonsense syllables sung in harmony.** Like the original, it's got some great guitar licks that were supposedly played by Artie, the kid in the glee club who uses a wheelchair. I'm also enjoying "Rehab," which was performed in the show by a glee club from a rival high school.

I didn't realize until I went back to Craig's post and read some of the comments that there won't be any new episodes until this fall. Shite! But Kristen Chenoweth is going to be in at least one episode. And Cheyenne Jackson is going to be a guest star in episode 3. Woo hoo! 

Matt and Mike sang and played the violin at their school's spring concert a week ago Tuesday. I couldn't go because it was my crunch time at work and I wouldn't have been able to make up for the lost time before our deadline passed. David was supposed to have recorded the concert—the boys' last one in elementary school—so I could enjoy it too. But he didn't. We had a back-and-forth on Facebook about it, and he said something like he didn't want to be a jerk and get in everyone's way at the front of the auditorium with his video camera. To which I say, why start worrying about being a jerk now? *zing* At least Dad, Jean, and Granny got to go.

I told Tracey and the boys about Glee and insisted that they listen to "Don't Stop Believing" on my iPhone. Tracey said she preferred Journey's version, but M&M both enjoyed it. In the car on the way back to my apartment, I started playing "Rehab" because the boys had asked me what the other song from the show was, and Tracey told me to shut it off after about 15 seconds because she couldn't stand it. Maybe the boys can watch the show without her. :-)

Here are some photos from the fundraiser, whose theme was Around the World in 80 Days:

Mike and Matt clowning around on the way to the BBG

The boys with their passports. They got a stamp for every activity they did.

Tracey and David

The boys using different kinds of sand to color an elephant drawing

Cute bookmarks M&M made

And a cute duckling poster that was in one of the rooms of the BBG building where the event was held

*She's been introduced only as the cheerleading coach, but I assume she also teaches P.E.

**My favorite consecutive nonsense syllables are the shouted "Jah dah!" between the first and second verses.

Flowers! Flowers! Flowers! And Still More Flowers!

I love peonies because I associate them with my Granny, who has a lot of them in her yard. They're also simply gorgeous in bud or full bloom, and they have a wonderful and not overpowering smell. I bought these white ones with touches of red from the flower lady at my local Greenmarket Saturday.

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I haven't done a flowers-from-the-Greenmarket post all spring, so I've got a lot to catch up on. I think the first ones I bought there last month were some really cool blueberry branches. The flowers are cute, bell-shaped white things. Hmm. Cute, bell, white. That reminds me of Hunter. :-)

I think these tulips came next:

And then these peach tree branches, which I found rather difficult to photograph:

And these lilacs, which I couldn't seem to take a good picture of, so I pumped up the lilac tinting and made it all artsy. And maybe slightly headache inducing.

And finally, before the peonies, I got some lovely alstroemeria from a farmer at the Union Square Greenmarket who also had some gorgeous roses and snapdragons.

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Bob got some purty mums a couple of weeks ago. Maybe he was hoping that buying flowers would increase his chances of getting some action. These are very pretty, but if I were Jen, I'd hold out for at least some carnations. Hah!

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And now, some flowers in yards in my hood:

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Someone who lives at Carroll Street and Fiske Place here in the Slope pruned a tree so that it would form an arch over the sidewalk. Well done! It's actually been that way since I've lived in the neighborhood, but I hadn't thought to take any pix of it until now.

Here's its trunk:

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And finally, I took some pictures of buds and blooms on a tulip tree in the park. I would have sworn I'd written about tulip trees on here before, but I couldn't find any such posts when I did a search just now. The tulip tree, aka the tulip poplar, is the largest deciduous tree in the Eastern United States, and the flowers are quite cool looking.

In my living room, I have a woodblock print of a "Tulip Tree in Bloom" that I bought a few years ago at a gallery in Millville:

Terminator Halvation

Hal, Mil, Bob, and I went to see Terminator Salvation Friday night, and good gods did it suck. Even Hal, who can find something good to say about almost every movie he's ever seen, thought it was pretty bad. Jay and Kas, who had another obligation or something better to do that night, were the real winners.

I was pretty sure it was going to suck, but I didn't want to be a killjoy and not go along with my buddies when they went to see it. I knew it would be relentlessly violent, and it was. I was hoping it'd be at least somewhat fun, and there was only one scene that brought a little bit of a smile to my face. The best word to describe TS really is brutal. And I'm pissed that Sony and Time Warner got some of my money for that piece of shit.

I blame Bob. :-) He was the one who suggested we all go to see it. And I blame McG, the three-lettered director who should have stuck with making music videos. And I blame all of the 13-year-old boys who went to see it and will ensure there's another sequel. Hey, maybe not. Check this out. In your faces, McG and Christian Bale! You got your asses kicked by a family comedy starring Ben Stiller. Suck. On. That.

I may as well pick some nits about TS while I'm at it. 1) Why would emotionless, efficient machines create vehicles that can transport humans after being dropped into them by skyscraper-sized robots with huge metallic hands rather than just killing the humans instantly with said huge hands? 2) Why would machines set up a touch screen as the interface for unlocking the doors that hold their human  prisoners captive? That makes it pretty easy for human fingers to operate, but it's pretty damn useless for metal claws, huh, dumb asses? 3) Why in the future would shitty handheld products from Sony be the go-to devices for human revolutionaries when everyone knows Apple rulez?!1! :-) 4) And how did I know Sam Worthington was Australian before I checked out his imdb page? Because his accent pops up at random moments in the stupid movie. Acting!

After the movie, which we saw at the Pavilion Cinema here in Park Slope, we had a late dinner at Miracle Grill that everyone enjoyed and then came to my place so Hal and Mil could have some of the second batch of my delicious Vanilla Fudge Ice Cream. This time, I'd made the fudge sauce with semisweet chocolate rather than bittersweet, and I think I like it a little better that way. Mil and Hal both had seconds.

I got an e-mail from Hal this morning suggesting we go to see this movie next. Noooooo!

UPDATE on May 28: New York magazine also noted Worthington's inconsistent accent in its latest Approval Matrix.

A Food and Drinks Post With Red Velvet Frozen Custard, a Cock in Drag, More Cupcakes, and Another Malbec. I'm Always With the Malbec

On Monday, Joyce mentioned that one of the frozen custard flavors of the month at Shake Shack was Red Velvet. I immediately jumped on the Shack's Web site and clicked on the Custard Calendar to find  that Red Velvet was the special flavor every Saturday in May. We had a superbusy week at work, but in between putting in some hyphens, taking out some other hyphens, and just generally fixing everybody else's stupid mistakes :-), my mind kept going back to that custard. I had to try it! And there were only two Saturdays left in which to do so.

Yesterday, I asked Joyce whether she was up for a dinner or a late dinner at the Shack so we could get our mitts on that custard. She was, and we did.

We convened at 8, and I think we got our food about 9 or so*; I didn't check the time on my iPhone. I got a hamburger and fries and a bottled water. And the food was excellent, just like it was when I went to SS with Desirée last year around this time. Then I got in the very short B line—from which you can order only a select few things, including frozen custard—and got myself a double-serving cone of the Red Velvet. Oh. My. God. In. Heaven. It was terrific. I pictured it as being red custard with some cocoa flavor, but I wasn't disappointed to learn that it was white custard with bits of red velvet cake in it. I may have to go back next Saturday and get another one.

Man, I look slightly crazed in that photo. And a little disheveled. You should see the photos that didn't make the cut. Actually, no you shouldn't.

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On the way back from the Shack last night, I checked my e-mails while the Q train was passing over the Manhattan Bridge and read this message from Will with the subject line "Bayou Boogaloo":

We went for the first time this year. Normally, it's so hot that the idea of going never even sounds interesting, but this year because of the "tropical storm" in the Gulf which passed east of here, all the humidity was sucked into the storm and it was just gorgeous here. Big pink cumulus clouds lining the bayou and framing the city skyline.

We had some of the usual local fest foods, but a Jamaican meat pie with corn crust was really good, and, to me, the winner was a cheddar jalapeno biscuit with a crawfish tasso cream sauce. Yum-mee! Rich and spicy, just delish! There were two local ice cream shops, but I was in the mood for a nutella banana crepe.

There was a girl there walking around with a rooster in drag. The rooster was wearing a little gingham pinafore and had his nails and beak painted red.** Really cute.

w

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The second kind of cupcake I made wasn't as good as the first, but I enjoyed the final results despite the few snags I encountered in making them.

I'd told Abbe that I'd make her Chocolate Chip Cupcakes With Chocolate Chip Frosting sometime in the weeks after her birthday, which was last month. I was going to a gathering of gay men who play games every Sunday evening last Sunday and I wanted to take something with me, so I figured it was the perfect weekend to make a batch of 30 cupcakes.

The recipe calls for non-self-rising cake flour and six egg whites beaten into stiff peaks that you incorporate into the batter just before adding the semisweet chocolate chips. The icing is superrich: It's basically a pound of powdered sugar beaten into 3/4 of a pound of butter, plus a little vanilla and 2 cups of chocolate chips.

Abbe helped me icing the first dozen cupcakes. I wish I'd figured out beforehand that we wouldn't be able to use my icing gun. I thought my largest tips would allow the chocolate chips to pass through, but the holes weren't quite big enough. So we ended up having to frost the cupcakes with a rubber spatula, which wasn't nearly as much fun as using the gun.

After Abbe and I frosted the dozen cupcakes I gave to the Schultieses, I frosted a dozen to take to The Gamesters. I just barely had enough icing to cover those. Abbe and I must have used a little too much on the first twelve, and I ate some icing that was stuck in the gun so as not to let it go to waste. :-) The last five cupcakes I had left over (after having eaten one not long from the oven the night before to see how they'd turned out) I ate as chocolate chip muffins for breakfast.

The Gamesters enjoyed the cupcakes, but the Schultieses found the icing to be too sweet and scraped most of it off. I thought it was delicious, although, as I wrote above, it was without a doubt incredibly rich. It's buttercream, baby!

The Gamesters' adorable host, Mark, is fond of making his guests pose for pictures, like the one here. He works as an extra in movies and television shows, but maybe he really, secretly wants to direct. :-)

I noticed when I was eating the unfrosted cupcakes that the chocolate chips had all sank to the bottom as they'd baked. I hadn't noticed that when I was eating the ones with icing on them, but I'm sure they must have been the same way. All of those egg whites must make the batter too light to support the chips.

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Tonight I'm finishing up the second bottle of a great malbec from a (to me) unusual location: The 2006 Clos La Coutale Cahors Table Wine had a wonderful bouquet and a delicate and sophisticated flavor. It's from the Cahors region of France, which is where malbec originated even though, ARROHK, it's Argentine winemakers who have really taken the grape and run with it. The Clos La Coutale was more subtle than most of the malbecs I've drunk. I'll have to give Dad a bottle to try. It was $14.89 at Prospect Wine Shop.

*The Shack sells clothing including a onesie that says something to the effect of "I was in the womb for 9 months. This line isn't so long."

**Neither Hawleyblog nor the guy named Bill Hawley endorses the painting of a rooster's beak and claws. Hawleyblog and the guy named Bill Hawley would be curious, though, to see what a rooster looks like in a gingham pinafore. 

Another Current Affairs Post That Starts Out Torturous

Cheney Demanded an Iraqi Prisoner Be Tortured so He Would Say There Was a Link Between al-Qaeda and Saddam Hussein

And after the 9/11 Commision asked more questions, there was a second round of torture to get the man, who was an intelligence official under Hussein, to provide answers to them, Robert Windrem writes at The Daily Beast. We now know that more than one-quarter of the footnotes in the 9/11 Commission's report are related to CIA interrogations that involved torture.

A Man Whom the CIA Captured and Had Tortured in Libya Has Died in a Libyan Jail

The torture was used to elicit false testimony about an al-Qaeda–Hussein connection that Bush used in a speech in Cincinnati to drum up support for the invasion, bmaz writes at emptywheel. The Bushies knew it was false before Bush gave the speech.

The Torture Continues at Guantánamo

A military "thug squad" is still terrorizing prisoners, AlterNet's Jeremy Scahill writes.

An Author and a Resister

The indispensable Ann Wright compares the fates of Jay Bybee, who authored the memos giving the Bushies the legal go-ahead to torture and is now a federal judge, and Alyssa Peterson, an Army linguist who refused to go along with the torture program and is now dead of a gunshot wound the Army says was self-inflicted.

The Reverse Nuremburg Defense

That's where "Bush administration officials are let off the hook because they were only giving orders," write The Editors at the Poor Man Institute for Freedom & Democracy & a Pony.

David Gregory Is Not Now and Probably Never Has Been a Journalist

He's just a repeater of the most-vile Republican talking points on torture.

The U.A.E. Tortures and Covers It Up

And American officials are outraged. Because they have no sense of hypocrisy.

"President Obama's Promise of Accountability Is Meaningless"

Glenzilla tramples Mr. Hopey Changey over his decision to not release more photos of prisoner abuse here and here. 

U.S. Soldiers in Iraq Are Forced to Risk Their Lives and to Steal in Order to Get Adequate Drinking Water

It's insane. And as you could reasonably predict, KBR is behind the problem.

As Chairman of the Federal Reserve Bank of New York, a Former Goldman Sachs Chairman Oversees Goldman Sachs's Bailout and Conversion to a Bank Holding Company and at the Same Time Enriches Himself Through Purchases of Goldman Sachs Shares That Increase in Value Thanks to the Actions He Took to Help the Company

And when the media reveals what he's been up to, he resigns. (Even though he of course didn't do anything wrong. It's to avoid creating an unnecessary "distraction.") But not before he helps select a new president of the New York Fed, who came from ... guess where?

The Senate Won't Stop Banks' Loan-sharking

Credit unions can't charge more than 15 percent interest, but the banksters can charge credit card holders whatever the fuck they want.

Jane Harman Says She's a "Warrior on Behalf of Our Constitution and Against Abuse of Power"

Glennzilla says she, a loyal Bushie Blue Dog, should choke on those words.

Giuliani Skips Wedding of the Self-Loathing Gays Who Housed Him While He Was Going Through His Second Divorce

And they were disappointed that he blew them off to gain political points with the Republican base who don't like them some faggots. How shocking!

DHS Secretary Janet Napolitano Calls a Report on Right-Wing Terrorists in the U.S. "Probably the Worst Thing That's Ever Happened" at the Department

She said the report had never been vetted and was only preliminary. What was really wrong with it was that the right-wing attack machine didn't like it, and the Dems always have to fold when the wingnuts attack.

A Superfun [title of show] Fundraiser

On Monday night, Joyce, Missy, Nate, and I went to Feinstein's at Loews Regency for a fundraising performance by the cast of [title of show] that benefited The Actors Fund. We had a blast.

Jeff, Susan, Heidi, and sweet sweet Hunter sang a bunch of songs that were either cut from the show, were earlier versions of ones that were in the show, or had been written for the cast to perform at a previous benefit performance. We in the audience were the first to hear the entire "The Tony Award Song" (other than those involved in the production). Squee! In the show, Hunter sings only a few lines of it before he's cut off by Jeff, who reminds him that they'd agreed not to use that song because making fun of the Tonys is too easy. Another highlight was a fantastic song called "The Quartet" that I would eagerly buy from iTunes this second if it were available. JSH&SSH also did a previous incarnation of "Finale," and Jeff and Heidi performed a song called "The Wall"—with Jeff on guitar—that had the same tune as "A Way Back to Then." The whole gang also did a couple of hilarious scenes that had been cut from the show: one in which they're all cheerleaders and a game-show sketch that at one point had led in to the Jeff-and-Hunter number "Part of It All."

I got to see Susan's good-looking husband in the audience, and I confirmed what I was pretty sure I'd read somewhere once: that Jeff and the show's director, Michael Berresse, are a couple. Michael came up on stage to introduce the foursome's last song, and he tearfully mentioned how they're all his best friends, though he's more than friends with one of them, and Jeff pretended like he didn't know whom he meant. And Heidi went over to Michael and planted a kiss on him, like he'd meant her. I'm tellin' you, Michael and Jeff would make some beautiful babies. And so would Hunter and me. I mean, with our cheekbones, how could they not be gorgous? :-)

The food at Feinstein's was ... fine. I splurged and got the $48 Beef Tenderloin with Pomegranate Port Reduction and Artichoke-Filled Twice-Baked Potato, which also came with asparagus and a small broiled tomato. I also ate the cole slaw that came with Missy's turkey burger because I couldn't stand to see the sad little bowl of slaw hanging out uneaten. And because I love me some cole slaw, especially if the dressing is vinegar based, not mayonnaise based. And I got two glasses of 14 Hands Cabernet Sauvignon. Everything was good. Not out-of-this-world. But decidedly good.

After the performance was over—but not really over because the gang hadn't done an encore—Susan acted as auctioneer for the sale of autographed photos of the two guys with one of the gals. In an earlier incarnation of [title of show], Susan would take a picture of the guys with Heidi and the envelope with the New York Musical Theatre Festival entry inside and then Heidi would take a picture of Susan, the guys, and the envelope. One of each of those photos was made into a poster-size print. Both of them went for $500-plus. I thought about bidding on the photo of Susan, Hunter, and Jeff,* but I just couldn't justify the expense even if it was for such a good cause.

After the auction was over, the cast sang the stage version of "Nine People's Favorite Thing" and then went out into the lobby to sign those photos, meet the fans, and pose for fan photos.

That's a photo Joyce took of Missy, Hunter, and Nate using Missy's camera.

Here's a lesser-quality photo that I took using my iPhone. I wouldn't have posted it otherwise, but Nate actually has one eye completely open in this shot! :-)

Susan and me. Good god, I'm toothier than nine out of 10 Osmonds.

And Hunter and me. In this one, I'm toothier than all 10 out of 10 Osmonds. But how could I not be grinning uncontrollably? I'm next to Hunter Bell! :-)

*I love Heidi, but Susan is my girl. Word.

UPDATE on May 15: Joyce sent me a picture of Hunter and me, and I like how I look better in this one than in Missy's pic. Hunter doesn't have the best expression, but I look good, so whatevers. :-)

A Food and Drinks Post With Terrific Ice Cream That I Didn't Make and a Delicious Samosa That I Didn't Bake

On Thursday at work, Joyce and I were talking about this article in the latest Bon Appétit about the best ice cream shops in the country. The only New York selection wasn't actually a shop; it was the trucks of Van Leeuwen Artisan Ice Cream. I told Joyce I'd never seen one in the city. That very same evening, while I was walking Rudy, I saw one of the trucks at 7th Avenue and Carroll Street here in Park Slope. Even though I'd planned to go running or hit the gym after I was done walking and feeding the woofers, I knew I was now fated to eat ice cream instead. :-)

I checked out the selections before taking Rudy back home so I could feed the kids. (I also didn't want to get my ice cream with a bag of poop in my hand.*) When I returned, the guy who waited on me—who may have been Ben Van Leeuwen himself—said he liked my basset hound and said his family had had one when he was growing up.

I wanted to try several flavors—you know, for research :-)—so I got a large cup. I asked him how many scoops were in a large, and he said three or four. I asked for some vanilla, some ginger, and some mint chip—the first three kinds down the right side of the menu, actually.

I enjoyed all three of them very much. I didn't get a whole lot of vanilla, just a little scoop in the middle, on top. The flavors were very pure, and the texture was a little lighter than mine without sacrificing richness. I assume that's due to VL's superior ice cream maker, which probably puts more air into the product than my countertop models can.

I see on the Web site that besides his flavorings, Van Leeuwin uses only cream, milk, egg yolks, and sugar—just like me. And in this gothamist interview, he lambastes corn syrup. Woo hoo! He gives 1 percent of his revenue to save mountain gorillas in the Congo. Awesome. And the bowls and spoons are compostable. Excellent.

I asked the guy who served me whether this was the first time the truck had come to Park Slope. He said it was. Then I asked the next logical question, which was whether it was going to be a weekly thing. He said it might be if they did well enough that evening. Here's hoping they did. If not, I now know from the Web site that VL ice cream is available at several stores I frequent, so I'll be on the lookout for it if I can't get my fix regularly from the truck.

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Yesterday's lunch was a ground pork burger fried in canola oil and seasoned with tarragon, oven fries made from yellow-fleshed Greenmarket potatoes, and steamed asparagus, which I let get away from me and so became too mushy. To drink, I had some Red Jacket Orchards Black Currant Apple Juice. For dessert, Vanilla Fudge Ice Cream. There's only one small serving of that left, but I'm making more today so I can give some to the Schultieses. The fries were good but a little too dry. The burger was delicious. The asparagus came from Kernan Farms.

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A couple of weeks ago, I made a new variation of Martha Stewart's Citrus Vinaigrette, which pops up often on my blog. This time, I substituted Meyer lemon juice for the grapefruit juice and lime juice for the lemon juice. (And as usual, I left out the sectioned grapefruit chunks.) It was terrific.

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On a recent pizza night, the Schultieses and I tried the 2007 Layer Cake Malbec. I've heard good things about other Layer Cake bottlings, so I thought this one would be a no-brainer, but I was really disappointed. It smelled funky—in a bad way—and not because it was corked; it wasn't sealed with a traditional cork. Bob—whose mustache is visible in the photo, as is a well-done edge of La Villa pizza crust—liked it OK, and he was right when he said that the flavor was rather different than the aroma. But Jen and I were both underwhelmed by the taste.

UPDATE on May 24: The Layer Cake Malbec was $19.99 at 7th Avenue Wine & Liquor.

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I recently discovered a great vegetarian and organic treat at the Union Square Greenmarket: the Dal Samosa from Wild Hive Farm Bakery. Curry-spiked lentils, potatoes, and cabbage are baked inside a delicious whole-wheat and potato crust. Yum.

*I use the same plastic bag to pick up several poops over a couple or three days because I don't feel right throwing it out unless it's at least somewhat full. Yeah, I'm weird.

Nerd Out and Prosper

I saw Star Trek last night with Mil, Bob, Hal, Kas, and Jay. We all had such a great time, we're planning to catch the new Terminator movie together in a couple of weeks.* And so far, as of this posting, Mil has raised $2,650 for Doctors Without Borders. Way to go, Milly!

I thought the movie was a lot of fun. It wasn't so much fun that I had a problem picking it apart about certain things, but I'm glad I saw it. And on an IMAX screen in Times Square. How cool is that?

The next part of the post CONTAINS SOME SPOILERS. And plenty of Star Trek nerd jokes, starting with this one: Shown at left is my "proof of nerdness." Good lord, the ticket price was $17.50. And it contained no gold-pressed latinum!

I really enjoyed the back-story aspects of the movie. 

I thought Chris Pine and Zachary Quinto were terrific as Kirk and Spock. And Leonard Nimoy was great, as always.

It was fun to see Winona Ryder as Spock's human mom. I'd read that she played his mother in a Bloomberg News review of the movie, which I stopped reading after only a few paragraphs because it was very plot heavy and I didn't want to know a lot about the story. I'm not sure I would have recognized her if I didn't already know it was her. FYI: Ryder is less than 6 years older than Quinto.

I liked the surprising romance between Uhura and Spock.

I didn't like the time-warped aspect of the plot. I assume that the time traveling was done solely to allow Nimoy to be in the picture as old Spock and so satisfy nerdier-than-me Star Trek fans' desire to see someone from the original cast in this movie. That trick was done in The Next Generation TV series, with Scotty, and in the movie Star Trek: Generations, with Kirk. It's so tired. Mil said the time rift frees the writers and producers of this new series of movies to do whatever they want and to not worry about whether it fits in with the established canon. I don't care about that, and those fans who do can grow the eff up already. I just want to see some great new films using the old characters. They shouldn't have to shoehorn one of the oldsters from the original TV show into this series in order to make it "acceptable," or whatever.

And while I'm on that trip, the sheer number of must-hear fan-service lines—like McCoy saying Spock is "out of his Vulcan mind" and Scotty protesting that he's doing everything he can to provide more power for the ship—was a little annoying. None was anywhere near as annoying as when Data said "Lock and load" in Star Trek: Insurrection, though. Oy.

And at the risk of sounding even crotchetier, there were too many literal cliffhangers for Kirk. (I'm sure that by the last one, the creative team was winking at the audience, but come on.) And there was never even an outcropping or anything for him to hold on to. Just dirt. Or a flat metal surface.

There were some terrific comic moments, especially involving Dr. McCoy. Intentionally comic ones—as opposed to this oh-so-cheesy scene from the first TV show.

And the special effects were quite good.

So like I said, a very fun experience overall, but, you know, it coulda, woulda, shoulda been better.

When Bob, Hal, Mil, and I were communicating by e-mail yesterday about our plans, Hal wrote to confirm that he'd be at the theater at 6 and ended his message with "Live long and prosper!" I replied, "Set phasers to NERD!" Hah!

More nerdiness: When I arrived at the theater, there was a group of guys dressed in Federation uniforms nearby. (One guy had a very nice chest, so thumbs-up to him.) And we saw a few people inside wearing Vulcan ears.

Bob used the bathroom while we were waiting in line to be seated, and he noted that, contrary to the norm though not necessarily unexpectedly in that venue, there was a line for the men's room but not for the ladies' room. Hah!

Mil said that when the Paramount stars looped around the screen at the showing he'd gone to the night before with his wife, Oksana, somebody in the audience yelled out, "We made it!" As if he'd completed a freakin' marathon or something. Geez.

In the photo above is my group of nerds outside the theater after the movie. I told the guys I was going to post the picture on my blog. Where no one would ever see it again. Hah! And *sigh*.

After the show, we subwayed down to Chelsea to eat at Nooch, a Thai/Japanese place Bob likes that's near the office building he and Mil work in.** I got the Mango Salad with onion and red bell pepper; I've been on such a mango kick lately. And for my entree, I got the Crispy Grouper Fillet with tamarind sauce and jasmine rice. I dug both dishes—and the two Sapporo beers I washed them down with.

At dinner, we talked about Star Trek, of course, but also about non-Trekkie things, like depleted uranium, Kas's peanut allergy, and which investment might become the next asset bubble. (I'm putting all of my money into offbeat root vegetables. Come on, rutabagas!) And Mil told some crazy story about a woman who's allergic to water and can drink only Diet Coke that he didn't make up, it turns out.

It was an extremely fun and nerdtastic night.

*Even though I'm pretty sure it'll suck. Let's face it, most Hollywood blockbusters do.

**Bob and Mil met while working at the same company many years ago. They don't work together anymore, but, coincidentally, their employers are in the same building.

A Jam-Packed Long Weekend in the City, Part II

For the past two Christmases, Bob and Jen and I have agreed that in lieu of exchanging presents, we'd instead go out together for a nice dinner. Saturday night, we had our Christmas 2007 dinner at The Grocery in Carroll Gardens. It was probably the best meal I've ever eaten.

Bob and Jen had eaten there once before, almost three years ago. Bob had gotten a duck risotto that was out of this world. His serving was larger than usual because his was the last risotto made for the night, so they gave him whatever was left. He couldn't finish all of his booze or order dessert because he was so full. Which made him a little angry. But the risotto itself made him very happy.

I'd heard wonderful things about TG, and I used to pass it on my way to nude yoga class, back when my yoga teacher, Jeffrey, was living in his previous apartment, on Court Street. TG has an extremely tiny dining room. B&J and I ate outside in the beautiful backyard garden on Saturday; they'd also eaten outside on their previous visit.

We took the G (which I'd already learned was replacing the F) to Carroll Street. We had a little time to kill before our 7:30 reservation, so we stopped in at Smith & Vine, which celebrated its 5th anniversary on Cinco de Mayo by offering 20 percent off everything all day. I really like that store and should get my ass out to Carroll Gardens regularly to shop there.

We also had time for Bob to take a picture of me posing next to the JakeWalk sign. Because ARROHK, I dig this Jake.

For our first bottle of wine, I chose the 2007 Ramsay North Coast Pinot Noir. Bob and Jen split an Ommegang Abbey Ale, and I tried a sip to remind myself what it tasted like. Bob is a huge Ommegang fan, and I knew I'd enjoyed it when I'd had it before.

For my appetizer, I got the Roasted Beets with Goat Cheese Ravioli, Fried Shallots, and Toasted Pine Nuts. That freed up Jen to get the Grilled Squid Salad; she'd been considering the beet dish, and I told her I'd get it if she didn't. I did not try the squid. Bob gave me a bite of his Roasted Carrot Buckwheat Blintz, which totally doesn't sound like something Bob would order. Which was the point. Bob is a firm believer that you shouldn't order out something you would ever make at home. The blintz was terrific. It came with Endive, Orange, Radicchio, and Citrus Walnut Vinaigrette. I was considering getting the blintz because all of that side stuff sounded fantastic. I had no regrets about the beets, though. The ravioli were buried under cubes of red beets and rested on top of slices of golden beets.

For his entree, Bob got a special: the duck risotto he was hoping would be offered. It was prepared a little differently than last time and came with a duck leg on top. Jen got the Grilled Boneless Trout with Sour Cream Mashed Potatoes, Ramps, Favas, and Roasted Hen of the Woods. I got the Grilled Marinated Loin of Pork with Haricots Verts, Spoonbread, and Red Onion Jam. Bob said his risotto wasn't quite as good as the previous time but he thought it was still very good. My pork loin had some crispy edges to it, which I really enjoyed. And all of the sides were great.

For our second bottle of wine, we had a Bordeaux, the 2003 Château le Vivier Medoc. I thought both wines were quite nice.

For dessert, I got something I wouldn't normally jump on: Chocolate Fig Cake. Something told me it would be worth taking a leap for, and it was. It came with Coconut Ice Cream and Passion Fruit Sorbet. Jen got the Gingerbread Steamed Pudding with Roasted Pineapple and Sour Cream. And Bob got the Warm Apple Crisp with Vanilla Ice Cream. I liked the pudding; I didn't try Bob's.

Oh, I almost forgot about the little, metal, cone-shaped cups of Potato Leek Soup and the three marble-sized, buttery Potato Croquettes, one for each of us, that we were given as a little treat before our first-course selections came out.

The service was very friendly but not intrusive. I think the woman who brought us the soup and croquettes was Sharon Pachter, one of the co-owners/co-chefs.

All in all, it was a wonderful night, and I can't wait to go back again sometime.

On Sunday, Dad and Granny came up for an overnight stay. It rained pretty much all day, which was a drag. But I pushed Gran in the wheelchair Dad borrowed from the Ruritan over to La Villa for our usual Dad-visit lunch of Sicilian pizza, salad, and red wine. For the wine, I took a gamble on the 2005 Umani Ronchi Montepulciano d'Abruzzo, which I don't think we've ever drunk there. All of us liked it. I thought I would because I've been trying—and generally enjoying—a lot of Montepulcianos ever since the wine and spirits columnist I edit for the magazine recommended them as reliably good values.

Back home, we had some—but not quite the last—of the Vanilla Fudge Ice Cream I'd made for my dinner party. Then we all took naps. If it had been nicer, we might have gone to the Brooklyn Botanic Garden. But the weather sucked, so we snoozed.

For dinner, we went where we always have to go: Sotto Voce. Next time Dad comes to visit, which will probably be next month, I'm going to try to get him to go somewhere else. I may need to brandish a gun at him, but I don't care. I like SV, of course, but that particular rut has gotten too worn and my wheels just don't want to go there anymore.

Back at home, we watched a couple episodes of Castle, the newish detective show starring Nathan Fillion, my latest celebrity crush I'm referencing on the blog. It wasn't bad. Fillion is always worth watching, and I like Susan Sullivan as Castle's mom, but I don't think the show is a must-see.

The next morning, Dad and I picked up bagels and coffee for us and an apple turnover and coffee for Gran. And then they were off, back to Bridgeton.

Here are some more photos from my jam-packed weekend:

Four pots of dahlias I gave Gran and sent home with Dad for Jean, for Mother's Day

Here's a photo of a photo (which is why it doesn't look terrific) I took of Granny and Pop eating homemade ice cream I'd brought for Pop's birthday, on Aug. 12, 2001. Two fruity flavors: peach and blackberry.

And here's a photo of another of my favorite family photos, also taken in Gran and Pop's kitchen: three generations of Hawley men, in August 1999. Dad brought me a green, zip-up fleece from Patagonia (the company, not the region) that I'd given to Pop for what turned out to be our last Christmas with him. Dad said he thought I should have it. I've worn it every day since. 

Bob's carrot-filled blintz and salad. I would have had more food photos, but my camera's battery ran out of juice early in the evening due to poor preparation on my part and it got too dark to take pictures with the iPhone after a while.

TG's backyard dining area

Bob and Jen

Jen and me

Pop's fleece

A Jam-Packed Long Weekend in the City

Wow, what a busy and fun weekend I had. You might say it was "jam-packed." If you were writing a headline for a blog post.

On Friday evening, I had dinner and went to a show with Eugene. We'd been meaning to catch a play together for a little while now, and we both agreed we'd like to see Ruined, for which Lynn Nottage recently won the Pulitzer Prize. We had only a little time to eat before the show, so we each got a bowl of butternut squash soup and a drink at Seppi's to tide us over so our bellies wouldn't be growling during the play. We both enjoyed the soup. I didn't think it was terribly butternutty; it was very rich and creamy, though, like the lobster bisque in Puerto Rico.

I enjoyed the play. The acting was sort of mixed; I thought some members of the company could have been a bit more polished, especially considering the show opened back in February. The play had some amazing moments, including a shocker not far into the first act. And the music that plays a big role in the play was highly enjoyable. WARNING: SPOILER ALERT I was surprised (I hadn't read this review) that the ending was, for the most part, a happy one and that the play turned out, when all was said and done, to be a romance. I (mostly) joked with Bob and Jen Saturday morning at the farmers market that I was disappointed the first very serious play I'd seen in a while had a happy ending. And in all honesty, I'd fully expected to cry at some point during the play, given its heavy subject matter: the plight of young women at a brothel in the war-torn Democratic Republic of the Congo. I never cried. I don't know whether that was my fault (despite my pre-show beverage of choice, coffee, I was a little sleepy during the show) or the play's.

After the show, we went back to Seppi's to have a more-filling meal. I got an herbed chicken breast, mainly because I was in the mood for the side of mashed potatoes. Eugene got a sausage sandwich dealie. For dessert, Eugene and I split a scrumptious banana tart.

The next day, I entertained my Michigan buddy Mitchell and his boyfriend, Jon. First, though, I went to the Greenmarket at Grand Army Plaza, where I actually heard—at the Bread Alone stand—a cute daddy tell his daughter, "Let's leave the bread alone." I didn't point out to him the irony of his comment.

Mitch and Jon arrived around midday. Jon had needed to come East to work on a project for a company down in Flemington, New Jersey, near where I used to live. Mitch took the opportunity to grab a quick vacation in the Hunterdon and Mercer Counties, New Jersey/Bucks County, Pennsylvania region, and they drove up to Brooklyn to hang out with me for the day.

I'd asked Mitch if he could bring some Winter White wine from Leelanau Cellars. A few years ago, before I started writing this here blog, I'd visited Mitch and his then partner Curtis* in Grand Rapids. As a departing gift, Mitch gave me some of that wine, which I then shared with my Dad and Jean at a restaurant in Stockton. I enjoyed it, though it was a little sweeter than I generally prefer my wine to be. Dad loooved it. And due to the ongoing vagaries of interstate wine commerce, neither he nor I can have it delivered by mail to New Jersey or New York, respectively. Jon very nicely stowed a couple of bottles in his checked luggage, so my Dad, who visited me on Sunday, drove home to Bridgeton a very happy man.

Not only did Jon bring me the Winter White; he also gave me two bottles of his own, homemade wine, which he makes from grapes he grows in his yard. He said he gets a really good crop of three types of grape (Concord, Catawba, and I can't remember the third) usually every other year. The paler bottling in the photo is the Catawba; the darker one is the Concord. He and Mitch told me that, of course, these wines tend to be on the sweet side and I shouldn't expect anything too refined, but I'm looking forward to trying them out, maybe after a dinner, with dessert, or as Jon suggested, as an aperitif.

The fellows also brought me a beautiful hanging basket of geraniums, which Mitch picked up at Rutgers Landscape & Nursery near Ringoes, also not far from where I used to live. It's brightening up my alleyway. Mitch said he took a picture of my former house in Stockton so I could see how it had changed since I sold it, but he forgot to show it to me and I forgot to ask him about it again. Maybe he can e-mail it to me.

After I gave Jon the apartment tour, M&J had a beer, and Rudy got his fill of sniffing the fellows, the three of us went for brunch at Miracle Grill. Then we took the subway to the Brooklyn Flea in Fort Greene. I should say that we took a few subways to the Brooklyn Flea. The F and G trains were all screwed up last weekend, with the G replacing the F at 7th Avenue, the stop where we'd normally pick up the F here in Park Slope. If I'd been using my noggin and correctly reading the signs, I would have figured out that all we needed to do was stay on that G train because it was only replacing the F until Bergen Street, at which point it resumed making the usual G-line stops. And we needed to get off at the G-line stop at Clinton-Washington, which is beyond Bergen. So it really should have been the easiest trip to Fort Greene ever: No need to switch from the F to the G; just get on the G and ride it to our destination.

Like I said though, I wasn't using my noggin. I thought for some reason that we had to switch to the F, which would be making G-line stops, which would seriously have made no sense. Why would even a moronic agency like the MTA have the F switch to the G and the G switch to the F? And at one point, I even had us on an A train because that was my second guess for the line that was making the G's usual stops farther down the line. *sigh* If we hadn't gotten on that train, though, we wouldn't have seen this hunky hockey player whose face I've purposely left out of this picture so as not to totally objectify a perfect stranger. So Mitch and Jon really should be thanking me for taking them all over hill and dale for what should have been a less-than-10-minute subway ride. The hockey dude's face was just as nice as his burly torso and muscular, hairy forearms. The kind of forearms you—OK, me—want to rub certain parts of your own—OK, my own—body on. Once it became clear that Mitch was as chubbed up over this guy as I was, I tried to subtly take some snaps of him with my iPhone. But I was about as subtle as a landslide. Mitch said he could tell the guy could tell I was taking pictures of him. I could tell that he didn't care and that he sooo wanted me. Hah!

We eventually made it to the flea market, with about 20 minutes to spare before closing time. I'd particularly wanted to check out the food vendors and maybe score some cupcakes at Kumquat Cupcakery. I'm thinking of getting a little organic ice cream business up and running, and I figure the Flea would be a good place to start out. I'm still working things out in my head, and I'll probably enlist my brother-in-law, David, to help me on the management side. It's all very preliminary, but I'm definitely excited about this and want to get things rolling. Maybe next year, I'll be in an article like this in New York magazine.

Anyhow, KC must have sold out and closed up by the time we arrived. But we still had time to make the rounds of the schoolyard and for Mitch to pick out a beautiful print. He even bargained with the artist and got her to let him pay $35 for what would ordinarily have been a $40 piece of artwork.

On the ride home, Mitch saw a guy drop a piece of paper onto the floor of the subway car. Mitch picked it up and handed tried to hand it to the guy, who informed Mitch that he'd intentionally dropped it, meaning that he'd intended to litter. I thought it was cute that Mitch assumed the guy must have accidentally dropped it. I've never cried over it, but littering really does get me down.

The guys got ice cream at the Uncle Louie G outpost on 5th Avenue, and then I had to get ready for a dinner out with Bob and Jen, so M&J headed back to Jersey. It was so great seeing Mitch again and meeting his honey, Jon. I'll write about the rest of my jam-packed weekend in my next post.

*The story of how I'd met Curtis is probably better left for another day.

UPDATE on May 24: I actually alluded to how I met Curtis in this post, which also features the first appearance by my New Orleans buddy Will. That was back when I wasn't so good at using pictures and would always run them small and in between paragraphs of text.