Favorites 9.29.14
Driving on the beach: It always feels like you're getting away with something. Freedom! I mean, you could drive straight into the freaking waves if you wanted! But you don't. But still.
Goat milk: Goat milk? Goat's milk? Milk of the goats? Whatever you call it, it's good. Use it in place of regs milk in your oatmeal and be rewarded with a deep creaminess and that lovely, goaty tang on the tail end.
Pine nuts: My very, very favorite of all the nuts. Or is it a seed? And why don't they make some sort of pine-nut butter for toasts and rice cakes? This is something my breakfast most desperately needs.
Beginners: Rewatched this Mike Mills movie the other night and remembered how it's great. About, among other things, the silk thread that ties our parents' fraught relationship to our own adventures in fraught-ness. Also, cancer, rollerskating, and a wicked cute terrier.
Favorites 9.11.14
Puppies: Obvi, right? But the the way they wiggle into your lap and happily thrash about there, gnawing on your knuckle with pin-sharp baby teeth—it's what should be in the dictionary under the entry titled "joy."
Oat milk: I did a tour of alternative milks recently—brandishing hemp milk with coffee, pouring rice beverage over cereal, dipping cookies into iced-cold almond milk, all before encountering oat milk. Did you know this was a thing? It's the best! Oats are velvety rich and naturally sweet—no need for added "cane sugar" or other nonsense like that.
Pimm's lemonade. Lemonade and the gin-based liqueur known as "Pimm's," plus cucumber, plus mint, plus orange slices. Tuck this cocktail away in your hat for the next languid sunny afternoon.
Anthony Bourdain's new show on CNN. Good ol' Tony—he's kind of a chauvinist asshole but that's what you end up loving about him.
Favorites 8.11.14
Full moons in the daylight: What's cooler than an August "super moon" on a black summer night? That same moon, hung in a sky of pale blue. Ethereal and whatnot.
A cool shower and a nap: On a Sunday afternoon, after laboring in the blazing heat, it's the only thing to do. A Control-Alt-Delete for your heat stroke.
Foam rolling anything: Bought one of these for working the kinks out of my calves, but it's also proved useful in massaging the hurt from my back/neck/hips/thighs. As an aged skateboarder, you just can't not have one.
Neil Young, "Out On The Weekend": An easy pace, a Dylan reference, a lovely sense of longing—this song is worth your time.
Favorites 7.21.14
Zoo-bombing on a summer's eve: For non-Portlanders, this means bombing the hill by the Portland zoo on a skateboard. An adventure—train rides; steep, turny roads; peering in the lit windows of mansions; feet numb from rattling over pavement; salmon-pink sunset skies off in the distance. You end with, like, 1000-times more energy than you start with.
No cell service: Without service, your telephone becomes a dead object lodged in the car cup holder. Leave it there. Do non-phone related living. Enjoy how enjoyable this is.
Smoked paprika: Maybe someday I'll tell you all about a newfangled food allergy that has me consulting with witch doctors and terrified to eat anything delicious (as part of an elimination thingy, I'm currently off Cholula and other red-pepper-related deliciousness :( ) ... But for now, I'll just say this: Smoked paprika! On everything! Believe.
In Sunlight and in Shadow, by Mark Helprin: Long have I waited to recommend a 700-page work of contemporary fiction to you. The wait is over. Check it—a war story and a love story set in 1940s New York City; all about honor, passion, the magic of the city, and the inherent brutality that binds us humans together. Wow, right?
Favorites 6.26.14
Carrot as hot dog: This is it. I'm finally there. I don't care if I consume another veggie dog or burger ever again (a girl can only eat so much vital wheat gluten and reconstituted soy product). But! I just learned a secret of the vegans: brush a carrot with olive oil, sprinkle it with salt, and roast it into almost oblivion. Eat it in a bun with such things as slaw, hot sauce, and horseradish. Don't laugh—it's heaven.
Sam Cooke: His voice! It kills me. Esp. the song "Touch The Hem Of His Garment." It's about Jesus, but that's okay.
Listening to your iPod's songs alphabetically instead of on shuffle: You'd like to think "shuffle" means "totally random," but I think we all know by now that there's some sort of algorithm at play here. My Pod's obsession with Johnny Cash, "A Boy Named Sue" put me off the man in black for an entire year. If you wanna hear your library's real deep cuts, click on Songs, head to any given letter, and hit play. It won't disappoint.
Sleeping pet faces: A slumbering pet brings a sense of peace into the room. Also? There's something heart-wrenchingly cute about how vulnerable they are.
