Lunch, July 29

Topping off the loveliest of lazy Sundays was a stop at Cross Street Market for oysters and beer. We ordered a plate of six, fresh shucked from Louisiana, and then a second plate of half clams, half oyster. Give me a cold erster with some lemon and cocktail sauce and I'm in heaven.

Dinner, July 28

Threw my first "adult" party, with a tapas meal of garlic shrimp, scallops cooked in orange juice, lamb meatballs, potatoes in mojo sauce, fava bean salad, deviled eggs. A plate of delicious cheeses from Spain, citrus olives, menorca almonds, a fig tart, crackers and fresh crusty bread. Sangria.

So weird. People came, ate, socialized, made merry, and then left. No beer pong, no keg or keg stands, no wild dance party. I think I'm growing up. And loving it!

P.S. - a big shoutout to a special blog reader who drove down from Philadelphia and made it all go off without a hitch. Thanks! xoxo

Breakfast, July 28

My horizons are expanding these days, now to Australia. How's this for an odd breakfast:

smoked salmon
atop table water crackers
with
bleu cheese, cracked pepper, a sprinkle of fresh lime

Um, delicious!

Lunch, July 27

Happy Birthday to me! A highlight of an innovatively awesome birthday was a long, boozy lunch at Rasika. Another "sceney" restaurant, with engaging design, this place offers a menu of excellent Indian food. Ginger seared scallops that melted in the mouth and chicken kebabs for appetizers, and a lamb korma for the meal, and even a rose-vanilla ice cream with some "not-donut" things, too. And delicious pomengranate drinks.

Drinking cocktails at lunch felt absolutely devilish and was so fun!

Dinner, July 26

Happy hour kicked off my 28th birthday celebration, with the most delicious pomengranate fili drink and good company. A friend from grad school, who turned 27 on July 25, conspired with me to get friends to Zaytinya for drinks. We ordered a few snacks from the Greek mezze restaurant, a place where the food actually does taste like it does in Greece, and then thought it would be more "civilized" to sit down for dinner.

H&D, G, and C and myself went to Rosa Mexicana, where H&D will hold their rehearsal dinner on Oct. 6. This place, while really nice, is one of those "scene" restaurants where the high-concept design makes the food (which is also high-concept designed) taste more upscale than it actually is. Their schtick - which, while slightly charming, doesn't impress me as much as others - is to make guacamole tableside. After you order, a guy rolls a little cart up to your table and mixes avacado, onion, jalapeno, and salt & pepper. Cute, but a little too cheesy to impress, given the simplicity of the recipe. All said, a fabulous dinner and awesome kick-off to four fantastic days.

Lunch, July 22

The Farmer's Market at Saratoga Street is one of this city's gems. Every Sunday morning, from May to Christmas, a dingy highway underworld transforms into a bustling marketplace where all walks of life converging in pursuit of fresh produce. Of course, buying direct from farmers --feels-- better than shopping in the store, and being very conscious of my food miles and sustainability, I'm very excited to visit the market and eat seasonally available local produce and buy cage-free organically-fed chicken eggs. It's also kind of an impromptu meeting place; yesterday I ran into my dentist and a former co-worker and a girlfriend.

Before heading down to the market, I cleaned out my refrigerator to discard the remains of the last trip to the Farmer's Market: a full bowl of cherries; a bag of spinach, never touched; a pound of zucchini, also not touched; and some rotting tomatoes. Alas.

So I restocked with more cucumbers and tomatoes, but kept it at that (except for a glorious haul of fresh-cut flowers, but that's a story for a blog of a different name). Then we were enticed by the long line at the falafel stand.

This stand was being manned by a pack of hippies who were dancing, singing, and making falafel like there was nothing else in the world they would rather be doing. Three people each had discrete jobs: the pita toaster, the falafel fryer, and the sandwich assembler. The assembly was kind of like art - patrons could select toppings of blueberries, beets, pickled cukes, kimchee, tahini, lettuce, honey. They had nectarines, but were out by the time we arrived. I braved the berries, honey, tahini, and lettuce on my sandwich, and it was delicious and beautiful. Made with love, too.

Dinner, July 21

The Australian came to Baltimore for Artscape, but the energy at the festival wasn't flowing for me (perhaps because the rest of my world is still kind of spinning). So we went to the Brewer's Art at his friend's recommendation, and ordered a Nora. It came out in a wine bottle, so we shared. I'm typically not a beer drinker, despite my phase in Philadelphia as a brewer. But this beer was delicious, hoppy but not overly so, and spiced with a surprising, but not at all overpowering, sweetness. My affinity for this beer has nothing to do with its name. I swear.

And then, to my sheer embarrassment, we joined up with some of my dear friends and went to... THE OWL BAR for dinner. What the heck was I thinking, returning to the two-time banned establishment? But I was too taken with the night and my companion to remember how awful dinner was before, and, the errors of this dinner slipped my attention this time. Distracted, completely so. The only way to enjoy the Owl Bar, and, perhaps, the best way, always, to enjoy everything else.

Lunch-ish, July 20

Dear friend H is marrying dear friend D on October at the Hotel Monaco. I'm the Maid of Honor. H asked me to join her for the wedding tasting at Poste, the hotel's posh and trendy restaurant.

At the restaurant, we were taken to a private room where a table was set with the same dishes and cutlery as the wedding tables will be, and decorated with the same flowers chosen for the wedding centerpieces. What a delight! We then sampled a bevy of potential appetizers, entrees, and salads. Of course, I had strong opinions, and did my very best to keep them in check, since I was the lowest-ranking individual at the table (after the Bride, Groom, parents of the groom, and mother of the bride).

That said, I was pretty vocal about understanding the value of a duet (pronounced "dew-way" in this wedding party) and the necessity to choose items that create a dichotomy in flavor/texture/presentation. Overall, I think excellent choices were made, and it certainly will be the loveliest wedding of all. At the risk of divulging privileged information, I can not reveal the decisions made at this wedding tasting.

Can't wait to eat! Cheers to H&D!

Dinner, July 19

In lieu of dinner tonight, I invited "the girls" over for wine, supplemented with cheeses of brie, jarlsberg, and cheddar, with berries, grapes, crusty french bread and an awesome peach-ginger thing you put atop cheese and crackers. We talked and hashed out our lives, and I really enjoyed their company, especially in the comfort of the home I own. Tres magnificent!

Dinner, July 18

Eighteen days since R and I parted ways, she moving in with her boyfriend and me striking out on my own in homeownership. With dueling schedules, I don't know that we've seen each other since. She invited me - or, I invited myself, I'm not sure - over for dinner tonight, breaking up the week in the most lovely way.

R, for all her virtues, wouldn't consider herself a cook. But tonight she really shone, delivering a delicious dinner of steamed asparagus, corn, and a pasta dish with tomatoes, goat cheese, and basil. Her POSSLQ, I must add, who is also my friend, kicked off the dinner with a spicy recipe of steamed shrimp with a homemade more-than-just-cocktail sauce. The meal was delicious, but more so, I was excited to spend time catching up.

Before I moved back to Baltimore, I'd lived on my own since I left college. We had a rough start living together, but our friendship, started as sophomore year roommates in the dormer in college, really morphed into a sisterly bond. I'm very happy in my new place, and there are lot of things going on to keep me completely distracted. But I really miss the intimacy that comes out of living with another woman, sharing a bathroom and getting dressed together and judging each other's outfits and understanding each other's moods. As I move into my 28th year, I bet that won't be an experience I ever share again. Luckily, I have the fondest memories to go on.

Dinner, July 15

Two weeks since moving in, and - thanks to Mom - I finally have curtains up. I'm sure the neighbors are happy now that they will not be forced to see me walking around in my robe (and it was only when they were lucky that I was that covered up). To thank her, I took Mom to XS for a late meal. She ordered Yaki Soba with chicken, which, frankly, appeared to be spaghetti noodles with a delicious soba sauce and some grilled chicken. The dish was simple, but unelegant. They should switch up the noodles so it doesn't appear to be Barilla. I, of course, ordered the Rainbow sushi roll. Mmmmmm.

Dinner, July 14

At Chesapeake Beach for the day with the family, we went to Neptune's Pub to celebrate my aunt's 58th birthday. On the outside, Neptune's appears to be a dingy pub where you can order Natty Boh cans for two bucks, but the menu proved otherwise. For an appetizer, we ordered mussels cooked in a provencal sauce, garlic bread, and zuchini straws. My meal included shrimp and scallops broiled in a thai sauce - perhaps a poor sauce choice, as they were a bit too spicy and seemed contrived to be served in a sleepy beach town. Along with the seafood, I ordered garlic white beans - delicious and could have been a meal in their own right, and roasted vegetable risotto, which, surprisingly, was delicious - basically, they took a medley of roasted veggies, poured it atop some plain risotto, and added tomato sauce. It was better than it looked or sounds.

Breakfast, July 14

Question: What's your gut reaction to a breakfast of wheat toast topped with cottage cheese and sprinkled with paprika?

Dinner, July 13

Ixia gave me the perfect Friday night experience - more than a meal, dinner here was an experience. We started out in the lounge, a high-concept design-heavy area with an eclectic mix of chairs, and with a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc from Kunde, a winery I visited last month in Sonoma. From there, we (and the bottle of wine) took to a corner table. We ordered four "small plates" to share, tapas style: duck proscuitto; grilled octopus with ricotta gnocci, olives, and capers; grilled peaches with bleu cheese; oyster and smoked gouda ravioli in a pea sauce. The duck proscuitto was a bit rich, and perhaps not prepared best, but overall, the meal was delicious. I'd return to Ixia in a heart beat.

Dinner, July 12

My boss, who I genuinely like and enjoy working for, invited the office staff over for a cookout at his house. Groan. The office closed at 3:30, and we all headed to his home in Hunt Valley. Moments before I closed up shop, I found out that another colleague was not bringing his two kids - a three-year-old towhead boy and a six-month-old girl. While I actually like my colleagues, I'd mostly been looking forward to hanging out with these two little ones. Oh well.

So the cookout was as awkward as you might expect, and I was doubly awkward because I haven't slept in days and was doing all I could to make awake, polite conversation, and because I'd eaten an entire pizza about three hours before I arrived at this cookout. But, I forced myself to eat three fourths of a cheese burger - I cut it in four and committed to at least making it look like I ate it.

Because I'm mature like that.

Lunch, July 12

Ugh. I'd totally intended to make myself a salad with the on-its-last-breath tomatoes, cukes, spinaich, and cilantro in my fridge. I actually thought that through last night. But this morning I couldn't decide what to wear to work, so I was rushed and completely forgot to pack a lunch.

So I ordered a thin-crust pepperoni pizza from Domino's. And ate the entire thing.

Dinner, July 9

With school running from 6 p.m. to 9, I race to DC from Baltimore, desperately fearing that I will be starving or near death because I will miss the dinner hour. I think I may have found the most delicious solution: Julia's Empanadas.

As if a sign from above, traffic was lighter than light down the parkway and I immediately found a street parking space near school. I was due to present to the class that night - over the course of the semester, we are assigned to write 11 speeches and must deliver one to the class; I chose to deliver a presidential nomination acceptance speech I wrote for Joe Biden - and therefore, even more fearful of becoming ravaged by hunger. So when I saw Julia's out of the corner of my eye, I thought to give it a try.

In the tiny storefront, one man manned the counter behind a display of nothing by empanadas. That's all they sell there, in addition to drinks. He asks for my order, and having never eaten an empanada before, except for a few at higher-end tapas places, I asked for his advice. He suggested the chicken one - perfect pastry stuffed with shredded chicken, vegetables, hard-boiled eggs (!) and lots of spice. I could hardly eat half, but went into class knowing that I wouldn't collapse with hunger pangs before I got home around 10. Phew.

Brunch, July 8

While I enjoy all my meals, Sunday brunch is definitely the one I enjoy most. And, while I am fond of all the cities where I've lived, New Orleans is the frontrunner.

Put those two together, and it's Sunday morning bliss.

This Sunday, I met a clever, creative friend for brunch in Adams Morgan. He'd recently returned from a long trip to India, so we had a lot to catch up on. We went to Bardia's New Orleans Cafe, a not-gimmicky place on the neighborhood's main strip. Always a fan of eggs benedict - and unable to follow the deductive rule J and I determined after many tests: don't mess with the original - I ordered a benedict-like concoction of poached egg atop fried oyster, topped with a rich hollandaise-y crab sauce, served with a biscuit. Interesting, yes. The oysters were a little too oyster-y, and overpowered the dish. But it was original enough that I appreciated it. My friend ordered a like entree, but with a tomato-based sauce and with fried catfish bites.

When I lived in New Orleans, we nearly ate as much as we drank. KF and I would go to fancy restaurants, just the two of us, and order an appetizer, an entree, and a dessert, all to split. We forged a strong friendship over our love of good food. Eggplant, shrimp, rice, creole and cajun seasonings, red beans, bread pudding, beignets, creamy chickory coffee - all those flavors can take me back to those wild days.

Dinner, July 7

For dinner Saturday, I had French champagne. At the Embassy of France in Washington, D.C.

A friend from grad school invited me to join her and her French National boyfriend, and a blind date, for this year's Bastille Day party at the Embassy. She and I suffered through Research and Writing Methods together last semester, and I really came to like her - a novelty to make a new friend in your late 20s. So I was just delighted at the invitation.

My night at the Embassy turned out to be kind of like a fairy tale, with the most charming Australian guy I'd ever met (another novelty - for me to meet a guy who can hold my attention). We started off the night with introductions and champagne at her place, and then headed to the Embassy where they served a very nice French dinner. I was particularly taken by a beef burgundy dish and a stuffed eggplant. For dessert, crepes were being freshly made at a stand outside, just like KF and I enjoyed in Paris in 2001. I had a lovely peach-filled crepe for dessert. And more champagne.

I'm still not sure if last night actually happened or if it was all just a dream...

Lunch, July 7

After two weeks of playing Damsel in Distress, I'm really happy that I was not born before 1950. Moving into this new place was made possible only by the kindness of several friends, most of them who happen to be male. Thank goodness for boys with muscles and pick-up trucks and saws and drill bits, and, above all, kind hearts.

Anyhow, on Saturday, I poured lemonade and watched while a dear friend played carpenter on my broken television case, which weighs approximately 500 pounds (seriously). Afterward we went out for sushi at XS, the restaurant that I think is my new neighborhood fave. We ate edamame and spring rolls, and then a couple rolls of sushi - including the beautiful "Rainbow Roll," as pictured above. My standby, spicy tuna, was particularly spicy and almost unbearable, at least compared to what I'm used to from the Cross Street Market.

Lunch, June 6

Much to the chagrin of my mother, a classically trained French chef, I eat Lean Cuisine every day. This pizza is better than pizzeria pizza (except for the garlic pie from Conte's we got on Friday nights when we lived in Princeton).

Pizza on Fridays is oddly comforting, taking me back to the days of innocence at Freedom Elementary School.

Dinner, July 5

My first dinner guest in the new place came over last night, and I christened the stove, oven, and dishes with Red Snapper and a mango shrimp salsa.

On Wednesday, I went to Whole Foods to buy fish. There was no Red Snapper in the case, but the nice fish guy offered to fillet a fresh one for me. While I waited, I struck up a conversation with another customer who ended up taking the other half of the freshly filleted fish and copied down my recipe for her dinner that night.

After broiling the fish with olive oil and salt and pepper, I threw it over a salsa made of champagne mango, avacado, shrimp, chile peppers, green onions, garlic, and lime. Simple, colorful, delicious - the mango and peppers were perfect together.

Mmm. I love fish. I love cooking. I love dinner guests (especially tall ones).

Dinner, July 4

I'm on a roll with perfect meals. Point: Grilled shrimp, simply seasoned with Old Bay; Chicken and steak kebabs; Orzo salad; Raspberries; Brie; Fresh grilled pineapple. And, the most excellent company.

Happy Independence Day, America!

Lunch, July 3

You might call this Nora's Perfect Lunch.

Today I had to swing home to pick up some documents to verify my eligibility for a coveted parking pass in Mount Vernon, so I planned to eat lunch there. I chopped up a cucumber and tomato picked up at the Farmer's Market on Sunday - and, therefore, tastier and without the waxy sheen - and tossed the veggies with cracked pepper, olive oil, and some snips of fresh chives and basil.

Not sure a summer lunch gets much better than that.

Dinner, July 2

Last night, in the perfect summer evening, I went out to dinner to celebrate moving the final piece of furniture into my new place.

We walked down Charles Street, appreciating the architecture of my new neighborhood, and I was deciding between the Brewer's Art and The Owl Bar. For years, The Owl Bar was a favorite, with excellent food that never failed to be excellent. But, alas, last year new management took over. In December, my girlfriends and I had an awful experience there - new menu with all the favorites taken off, atrocious server who told us most of the stuff on the menu was bad, and a really odd mistake in billing that took days to solve. After then, I banned it.

But yesterday, feeling nostalgic and thinking this new friend would appreciate the atmosphere, I decided to give it another chance.

I ordered the French Dip sandwich, once my most favorite menu item in the land, and a caeser salad. The salad came out with mostly spines, and lettuce with that red-orange discoloration. The sandwich meat was ridiculously tough, and I had to chew for like 5 minutes to consume a bite of it. I couldn't even finish half the sandwich because it was so awful.

My dining partner ordered a rare tuna wrap, served with guac, lettuce, and tomato. He was also underwhelmed, as the tomatoes were mushy.

Lucky for The Owl Bar, the wine they served was perfectly chilled and delicious. I should have trusted my instinct, because now, The Owl Bar is officially BANNED.

Breakfast, July 1

First night in the new place and I couldn't sleep. Partly because of the courtyard fountain that kept me up and partly because of the nightmare that my mom's car was getting towed.

I'd parked in a museum lot across the street, thinking it would just be for a few minutes. A poor choice, as when I returned to get the car, a gate closed off the lot and was secured with a heavy chain and padlock. Several large "We Will Tow" signs oppressively beamed down from the cement walls.

So I woke up every hour on the hour to check to see if it was unlocked; finally at 7:30 a.m. mom's Volvo was set free. I couldn't go back to sleep, so I went to the Farmer's Market. I'm hoping the Farmer's Market can be a seasonal replacement for my Whole Foods fix.

I got four fresh baked muffins, a dozen free-range eggs, a bag of spinach, cherries, tomatos, a pepper, two cucumbers, garlic, string beans, and shallots (that got lost between the market and my kitchen). When I got back, H&D were awake, so we noshed on muffins and I made some iced tea. Delicious! A new Sunday morning tradition, I think.

Dinner, June 30

Everything - but one annoying awkward abomitable heavy hutch - was moved in, thanks to an amazing crew of pals. So it was time to celebrate. K & J, fresh off a week from the beach, came by to see the new place, and me and H & D. We popped open a bottle of champagne, I gave the four-minute grand tour, and then we headed out for dinner.

As we approached the monument in the park, I was gushing about loving my new neighborhoo... CRASH! I'd stepped on a drainage grate in the sidewalk and it collapsed in two, my leg plunging deep into the annals of Baltimore city. I was scraped up a little, but mostly bummed because I got some blood on my white dress. Thank goodness for the Tide Pen!

We dined at Sotta Sopra. I hadn't been there since I wrote for The Sun some years ago, and editors eager to expense a delicious dinner were happy to take me. Usually I don't get excited about going out for italian becuase I was raised on homemade pasta and fresh spaghetti. But the food we had here was spectacular - I had gorgonzola gnocci with bolognese which was interesting and delicious, but too rich to be an entire entree. Other highlights on the table included the calamari, a duck ravioli dish in a wine reduction, and papardelle with tomato sauce and smoked mozzerella.

Can't wait to explore more culinary delights in my new neighborhood...

Lunch, June 30

A perfect day for moving. Back and forth and back and forth. I'm feeling oh-so-anti-feminist because I was only able to move because of the boys and their muscles and the intense thought they give to tackling problems of moving large items of furniture. If my thesis wasn't about how the media frames female presidential candidates, I would do it on the thought process men use in moving large, bulky, heavy pieces of furniture. It's hot.

I tried to be helpful, since, uh, they were moving my stuff. But I think my most purposeful move of the day was picking up a 30-pack of cold Bud Light to complement the pizza R ordered. The only moving-day lunch, I think.

One weird thing that I'd never seen before was dipping pizza in bleu cheese dressing. R ordered the pizza with several ramekins of said dressing, and everyone was dipping. I tried it and it was pretty good. Not as good as ranch, which I remember the soccer team girls used to get when we went to Pizza Hut before games and practicies.

Dinner, June 29

The Whole Foods habit is so hard to break. I knew it would be tough, but not this hard. Once I'm not driving by every day I should be in safer seas, but, as dinner proved, the driveby is fatal.

Enroute from Mount Vernon, where my mom had been unpacking my kitchen all day, to Bouldin Street, where we were hauling loads of R's stuff to her new place a few blocks north, I offered to pick up dinner for the crew. Guess where I stopped. Because I was driving past, and why waste an opportunity to buy organic, free-range herbed roasted chicken?

For the crew, to whom I am eternally grateful for really orchestrating my move, I got a roasted chicken, and then went a little nuts in the prepared food case. Chicken was complemented by mashed potatoes, ravioli pasta salad, baked beans, and a tomato-cucumber salad. Every dish inside that glass expanse is like a little treasure, packed full of flavor and nutrition.

For me, I got ... drumroll, please... a brown-rice spicy tuna and salmon roll pack.

Due to the lack of table and chairs, we "stooped" in true Baltimore style, eating our dinner on paper plates and watching the one-way street. Most enjoyable.

Then we moved another load to the new place before giving up and going out for drinks. Which, in my opinion, is better than going out for organic locovore raspberries.