Favorites 2.13.14 (Snowpocalypse-Themed)

Walking in a blizzard. An aesthetic delight—not to mention a zen-like low-impact exercise in which you gain new perspective on the city and realize that your two feet really can take you anywhere.

A glass of tequila with a wedge of lime. Yes, yes, tequila is the warm-weather drink. But what if, on a blizzardy walk home, you duck into a taco joint and just order a glass of it along with your rice and beans? What if it warms you up, starting with your cheeks? What if when you leave, you no longer care about the storm spraying snow in your face—but instead just march bravely on ahead, feeling very much alive?

Dinner Party Download. It's a podcast. Sharp banter, food, music, jokes, and odd little history lessons. There's nothing about this situation that I do not like.

Dominoes. Simple—not all headachy like other games can get with their rules and whatnot. All it takes is a few friends, a flat surface, and the ability to add. I find that yellow cake and a cup of whiskey fit in nicely here, too. 

Favorites 1.20.14

Junot Diaz: Dominican-American writer, won the Pulitzer, etc. Juxtaposes hilarious cholo vernacular with vibrant beauty of language (utilizes "motherfucker" with wild abandon!). Start with The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao. You'll see—his shit just dances right off the page.

Lemon zest: Have you zested? Why wouldn't you? So much more lemony than lemon juice. Soups, salads, a bowl of plain yogurt—it makes everything brighter. In fact, any time someone throws away a lemon peel without first zesting it constitutes kitchen crime.

Hot tub/sauna before bed: Soak until your cheeks are crimson. Get out and cool off on the tile floor. Transfer to the sauna—stay there until stars start spinning in front of your eyes. Go home and shower. Sleep the sweet sleep of the dead.

The Heat: Not a chick flic—a buddy-cop movie, but with funny females at the front. You will LOL. (Melissa McCarthy—my new favorite actress?!)

Favorites 1.6.14

Cranberry cake: Pockets of ruby ensconced in golden cake. Dense. Soft. The sour balancing the sweet. The only way to eat cranberries.

The Tannery: When the moon is frozen in the western sky, it's nice to ride bikes through the cold night air to this bar on 55th and Burnside. Have you been? Small, softly lit, with communal tables made of wood. The cook steps away from sautéing mushrooms to turn over the record, a chocolate lab named Filbert lolls on a rug, and thick mason jars hold all the whiskey drinks.

Making your flight: The best! Not catching an ungodly early airport shuttle that gets waylaid by a traffic accident and rerouted hours' south—getting you into the airport a full hour after your flight's taken off, which relegates you to a late-night flight that gives you four hours to waste brain cells and money sitting there in Terminal C feeling sorry for yourself … yeah, not having this happen is totally the way to go! Especially when you are trying to travel from one locale to another.

Prince Avalanche: A quiet movie—but very, oddly funny. Plus, Paul Rudd's my boy.

Favorites 12.16.13

Derby pie: This is pie, sort of. A dance between chocolate, pecans, brown sugar, and Kentucky bourbon—dark as night and rich with mysteries of the South.

When your dog plays with other dogs at the park: Sweet liberty! Suddenly your hands and mind are free to wander to other things—like your text message log or how the moon looks like a fingernail clipping dropped on the horizon.

Potlucks: A table full of steaming dishes magnetically draws a party close, gives it purpose, fills the stomachs of imbibers so that they don't get wrecked when/if they take it a few sips too far.

Boy: A movie from the writer/director of Eagle vs. Shark (also a must see!)—a kinda Kiwi Wes Anderson, in my opinion. The movie involves a darkish tale, told sweetly and hilariously. Currently streaming on Netflix people. Get it.

Favorites 12.3.13

Pistachio butter: It's a nut butter. For me that's enough to at least spoon it onto a corner of investigatory toast. But should I also mention that it's delicately sweet and the most peculiar hue of harlequin green?

Wood stoves: Unlike other forms of heat (forced air, electric, et cetera), the fireplace delivers a nice even-keeled warmth. The flickering light and crackling embers are just a bonus mild sedative for anyone within reach.

Portuguese wine: I'm no wine connoisseur. Nor do jetset to the Iberian peninsula often. But a friend gave me a nothing-special bottle that she'd procured in Lisbon, and when I took a sip it tasted like … like the dew that collects at dawn or something.

Impromptu road trips: Yes, yes, there are times when you want a definite plan detailing things like what you're gonna do and where you're gonna stay. But sometimes it's good to just get in the car and go somewhere else. Walk the glittery nighttime streets of a different city, eat pizza from a joint you've never been, encounter old friends who stash you away on an air mattress in their spare room. Maybe the next day you'd sleep in impossibly late, eat an impossibly huge breakfast, and walk into the impossibly wild wind coming off the water along Alki Beach—the bay filled with whitecaps and freighters before you, the skyscrapers spreading out beyond that like rows of teeth.