<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4002502353709640827</id><updated>2011-11-27T18:37:48.017-05:00</updated><category term='show'/><category term='El Perro del Mar'/><category term='christmas list'/><category term='lentil soup'/><category term='baby food'/><category term='top chef'/><category term='shows'/><category term='beer'/><category term='challenge'/><category term='baxter'/><category term='1990s'/><category term='food crisis'/><category term='fennel'/><category term='garlic scape'/><category term='thanksgiving'/><category term='worms'/><category term='iron chef america'/><category term='wine'/><category term='whole foods'/><category term='inspiration'/><category term='soul purge'/><category term='risotto'/><category term='williamsburg escapades'/><category term='evolution'/><category term='deep thoughts'/><category term='Slits'/><category term='bitch is back'/><category term='lazy'/><category term='dressler'/><category term='omnivores hundred'/><category term='desert island'/><category term='perfect'/><category term='top chef finale'/><category term='mast brothers'/><category term='charity'/><category term='iron chef brooklyn'/><category term='aids walk ny 2008'/><category term='auden'/><category term='Uncleverly Named Eating Society'/><category term='Jesus and Mary Chain'/><category term='vinho verde'/><category term='mommy guilt'/><category term='ho hum'/><category term='knitting factory'/><category term='Brooklyn'/><category term='dumont'/><category term='quinoa'/><category term='creme brulee'/><category term='whining'/><category term='potatoes'/><category term='happy hour'/><category term='new job'/><category term='mother&apos;s day'/><category term='back to school'/><category term='Superchunk'/><category term='bat for lashes'/><category term='Blonde Redhead'/><category term='sugar free'/><category term='julie julia project'/><category term='super awesome jobby'/><category term='supper club'/><category term='Sonic Youth'/><category term='the brooklyn kitchen'/><category term='4th of july'/><category term='euro cup'/><category term='wren'/><category term='Cause Co-Motion'/><category term='kalena'/><category term='cava'/><category term='reality tv'/><category term='Panda Bear'/><category term='urban rustic'/><category term='kitchen wishlist'/><category term='ramps'/><category term='welcome back brooklyn'/><category term='rancho gordo'/><category term='artists and fleas'/><category term='haiku'/><category term='food'/><category term='csa'/><category term='domino'/><category term='yacking'/><category term='skinny bitch'/><category term='tapas'/><category term='George Michael'/><category term='plum'/><category term='tria'/><category term='no reservations'/><category term='nita nita'/><category term='BEANS'/><category term='Television'/><category term='Peter Bjorn and John'/><category term='health'/><category term='Sunny Day in Glasgow'/><category term='parklife'/><category term='masquerade ball'/><title type='text'>Hazard as a Mom</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>jes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02751130217025208911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>57</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4002502353709640827.post-3418841497742063836</id><published>2009-09-01T22:03:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-01T22:17:18.431-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='risotto'/><title type='text'>memory, remixed.</title><content type='html'>Last night, after a long day, I wanted comfort food. Something easy. Something good. There was a slight chill in the air, and my couch was beckoning me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Growing up, when my mom was really tired and needed to feed her starving child (that's me!), our favorite lazy food was leftover Cuban white rice with two fried eggs on top and a smidge of hot sauce. My mother and I were never fans of runny yolks, but for this meal, we allowed it. We would chop up the egg and stir it around the rice, so that every morsel of the rice had a touch of yellow and a delicious fried white tidbit to boot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was delighted when I remembered that I had a huge batch of risotto that I had cooked with Stella Artois the night before with bits of garlic and onion. I decided to try to make poached eggs successfully (my first attempt ever at making them was the day before. total egg fail.) and serve it with my risotto. I made two perfect poached eggs, over my warm and creamy beer risotto, and served it with a drizzle of piri piri. I made a side of heirloom tomato salad in a sherry vinaigrette.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was perfect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just like mom used to make....but better. Sorry, mom.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4002502353709640827-3418841497742063836?l=hazardasamom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/feeds/3418841497742063836/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4002502353709640827&amp;postID=3418841497742063836' title='27 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/3418841497742063836'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/3418841497742063836'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/2009/09/memory-remixed.html' title='memory, remixed.'/><author><name>jes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02751130217025208911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>27</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4002502353709640827.post-5756989141919330546</id><published>2009-08-16T10:49:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-16T11:11:46.125-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Unclever Number 4</title><content type='html'>I think I have finally recovered from Friday's dinner. Yes, it's Sunday morning. Between the lot of us, we killed 12 bottles of wine, and probably half of my working brain cells.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Menu:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ground cherries&lt;br /&gt;baguette w rosemary butter&lt;br /&gt;cherry tomato, 5 olive mix, feta and fresh basil w lemon vinaigrette&lt;br /&gt;grilled fava beans&lt;br /&gt;scallion risotto&lt;br /&gt;creme brulee&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The creme brulee was supposed to be of the key lime persuasion, however, was unable to find the juice. I was smart enough, however to buy butane in advance from what could possibly be my new favorite store on earth. Therefore, there was freshly scorched creme brulee. Had to do the 'tap tap crack' with a spoon on top and everything. So good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I must say, sometimes I think, oh what's the point of doing these dinners, whatever I make is going to be terrible. I stress out about time management and getting the right seasonal ingredients. Then people get here, and everyone is so gracious, and open to meeting new people, and visibly and audibly enjoying what I've made them. I'm exposing them to something new sometimes, or revisiting an old favorite. It makes it all worthwhile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the end of every dinner, as people are kissing their goodbyes, phone numbers are being exchanged, facebook additions are being talked about, I sit back and my heart warms a little, because this is what my family and life in Brooklyn is like. And I wouldn't change a thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm already thinking about the next one...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4002502353709640827-5756989141919330546?l=hazardasamom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/feeds/5756989141919330546/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4002502353709640827&amp;postID=5756989141919330546' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/5756989141919330546'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/5756989141919330546'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/2009/08/unclever-number-4.html' title='Unclever Number 4'/><author><name>jes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02751130217025208911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4002502353709640827.post-8898649176122573377</id><published>2009-07-25T19:57:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-25T20:05:00.868-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Uncleverly Named Eating Society'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='creme brulee'/><title type='text'>Who Knew?</title><content type='html'>Last night was the third gathering of the Unclevery Named Eating Society.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the menu:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Salad:&lt;br /&gt;Mesclun, cherry tomatoes, pepitas, cucumbers, cotija in a chipotle-lime vinaigrette&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Build your own tacos!&lt;br /&gt;Cuban style black beans with sherry vinegar&lt;br /&gt;Chile lime shrimp&lt;br /&gt;Rice&lt;br /&gt;Cotija&lt;br /&gt;Grilled Zucchini&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dessert:&lt;br /&gt;Vanilla bean creme brulee w fresh cherries&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I blew my own mind with the creme brulee, no lie. It would have been perfect if I would have purchased butane for my torch, but we used the broiler and it worked just fine. Juuuuuuust fine. I still have two in my fridge. Not for long! I've never been a dessert maker, but I'm learning that I can actually pull it off! Will wonders ever cease?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4002502353709640827-8898649176122573377?l=hazardasamom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/feeds/8898649176122573377/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4002502353709640827&amp;postID=8898649176122573377' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/8898649176122573377'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/8898649176122573377'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/2009/07/who-knew.html' title='Who Knew?'/><author><name>jes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02751130217025208911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4002502353709640827.post-276330240963964855</id><published>2009-07-12T19:53:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-12T20:33:25.587-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='welcome back brooklyn'/><title type='text'>Whew</title><content type='html'>Life is starting to feel a little more normal now. Just got back from a much needed vacation. Tomorrow is the first day back to work. However, what I noticed that I missed the most lately, (besides Brooklyn in general) was my kitchen. Sure, I cooked while I was in Florida....but it wasn't MY kitchen, with ingredients that I picked, and no ingredient restrictions. And it's been years since I cooked on a regular stove. Literally, about 6 years. How does one cook properly on a non gas stove? Egads.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also realized how spoiled I am with food. I had to give up and not think about where my food was coming from, or what it was cooked in, and how it was going to ravage my body. I hated it. After living in Miami for 26 years, and thinking I was so healthy and eating so fresh, then coming to New York and discovering what it was like to really eat, and what was really fresh, and what really mattered, it was jarring. Not to say, that you can't find fresh food in Miami. You can, of course. But you have to dig like all bloody hell. It's not like there's a farmer's market in every neighborhood. Going to Publix, an event that I used to look forward to so much, made me so sad. Sure, they have an "organic" section, but, ew, really? That's what you call asparagus? That's what you call fennel? That's an heirloom tomato?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Needless to say, I cooked a lot today. I made dinner, and then a vat of wheatberries w cinammon and cranberries for breakfasts throughout the week, and I also made a spicy lentil soup for lunch and dinner. I have some Satur Farms bok choy that could use a little flash saute and would be fab on top of the soup. I'm thinking of a zucchini torte, a fingerling gratin, key lime creme brulee....the mind reels. Oh, to have real food again, what bliss.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4002502353709640827-276330240963964855?l=hazardasamom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/feeds/276330240963964855/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4002502353709640827&amp;postID=276330240963964855' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/276330240963964855'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/276330240963964855'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/2009/07/whew.html' title='Whew'/><author><name>jes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02751130217025208911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4002502353709640827.post-1344622840181262134</id><published>2009-06-21T21:03:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-21T21:27:12.290-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='lentil soup'/><title type='text'>Red Lentil Soup w Fried Radishes and Snap Peas</title><content type='html'>Today is Father's Day, and while all my dear sweet husband wanted today was just to relax, I wanted to at least make him a special dinner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a few left over things from our first CSA share pick up yesterday, and some gigantic radishes from the market earlier in the week and a shitload of lentils, so I decided on soup. I didn't have any vegetable stock or bouillon handy, so I had to improvise. God knows I love some MacGuyver cooking. I kept evolving the recipe in my head as I was cooking, adding a little of this and a little of that. I was ecstatic with my results&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All ingredient amounts are approximate, as I do not measure and prefer to eyeball it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2 shallots&lt;br /&gt;5 cloves of garlic&lt;br /&gt;1 1/2 cup of red lentils&lt;br /&gt;pinch of cumin&lt;br /&gt;sherry vinegar&lt;br /&gt;chili oil&lt;br /&gt;4 cups of water&lt;br /&gt;1 cup of wine&lt;br /&gt;4 jumbo radishes&lt;br /&gt;handful of snap peas&lt;br /&gt;olive oil&lt;br /&gt;salt&lt;br /&gt;pepper&lt;br /&gt;splash of milk&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Roughly chop the shallots and garlic in oil, pepper, and cumin. When they're nice and brownish add the lentils and stir around for about a minute or two. Add the water and wine and bring to a boil. After about 20 minutes check for tenderness. If they're soft enough, go ahead and add the salt, sherry vinegar and chili oil. I use piri piri which is a Portuguese chili that I am obsessed with. Use a hand blender to thicken the soup, adding a splash of milk if necessary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seperately, slice the radishes into discs, but not too thin. In a heated pan with oil, add the radishes with salt and pepper. Let the radishes caramelize a bit on each side. When radishes start to brown, add the snap peas and maybe a splash of chili oil too for fun. Once the radishes are fully cooked, serve on top of yr soup.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Surprisingly amaaaaazing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4002502353709640827-1344622840181262134?l=hazardasamom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/feeds/1344622840181262134/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4002502353709640827&amp;postID=1344622840181262134' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/1344622840181262134'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/1344622840181262134'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/2009/06/red-lentil-soup-w-fried-radishes-and.html' title='Red Lentil Soup w Fried Radishes and Snap Peas'/><author><name>jes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02751130217025208911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4002502353709640827.post-4513819952212794896</id><published>2009-06-02T21:55:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-02T22:27:01.041-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='evolution'/><title type='text'>Coming Attractions</title><content type='html'>Part of the reason why the blog is so wordy and not so picture-y, is because I have an unfortunate computer. It tries my patience, and it wins daily. However! I will be rectifying that situation soonish. So there's that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hazard as a Blog is going to also get a facelift. I keep experimenting with this and that, but it's still not quite the way I'd love it to look.....so I've got some creativey types working on some more aesthetically pleasing situations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, I'm contemplating changing the name of this blog. When I first started, I intended this to be more of a mommy-centric blog. However, as much as I love motherhood and as much as I love my son, this blog has grown to be more about my selfish goodies...more of what mommy wants, less of what other mommies should do. It has evolved, as I have, into something a little more organic and substantial. I'll always fondly recall my days as a Hazard, (and yes, sometimes she does magically reappear after a few too many martinis) but Hazard is all grown up now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Got a name suggestion? Holler at your girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;xoxo&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4002502353709640827-4513819952212794896?l=hazardasamom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/feeds/4513819952212794896/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4002502353709640827&amp;postID=4513819952212794896' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/4513819952212794896'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/4513819952212794896'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/2009/06/coming-attractions.html' title='Coming Attractions'/><author><name>jes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02751130217025208911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4002502353709640827.post-6171114570059363206</id><published>2009-05-30T11:02:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-30T12:06:47.503-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='inspiration'/><title type='text'>Inspired</title><content type='html'>Lately, I've been doing a whole lot more reading than writing. Good news is, I'm so inspired and have so many ideas wandering around in my head. Bad news is, I have no time and I'm a bad blogger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've decided to share some of what's been moving me....hopefully, it will do the same for you!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Blogs:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://simplyphoto.blogspot.com"&gt;Simply Photo&lt;/a&gt; - my friend Jen's blog. Her pictures make me weepy. No lie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://simplybreakfast.blogspot.com"&gt;Simply Breakfast&lt;/a&gt; - I want to eat breakfast like Jen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://noteatingoutinny.com"&gt;Not Eating Out in NY&lt;/a&gt; - I wish I had time to not eat out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://pinkofperfection.com"&gt;Pink of Perfection&lt;/a&gt; - So cute!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://101cookbooks.com"&gt;101 cookbooks&lt;/a&gt; - Everything I've ever made by her is amazing!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://smittenkitchen.com"&gt;Smitten Kitchen&lt;/a&gt; - You can make brilliant food in tiny kitchens. Highly recommended!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Books:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Alice-Waters-Panisse-Thomas-McNamee/dp/0143113089"&gt;Alice Waters and Chez Panisse&lt;/a&gt; - Astonishing how much of an impact one person can make.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.101cookbooks.com/supernatural/"&gt;Super Natural Cooking&lt;/a&gt; - Heidi Swanson's physical counterpart to her website, 101cookbooks.com&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TV:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.spainontheroadagain.com/"&gt;Spain...On The Road Again&lt;/a&gt; - Full confession, this show has made me stop hating Gwenyth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll be going crazy for the next few weeks, but soon I'll be posting pics from our last Uncleverly Named Eating Society meal, and letting you know what's on the next menu.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;xoxo&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4002502353709640827-6171114570059363206?l=hazardasamom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/feeds/6171114570059363206/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4002502353709640827&amp;postID=6171114570059363206' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/6171114570059363206'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/6171114570059363206'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/2009/05/inspired.html' title='Inspired'/><author><name>jes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02751130217025208911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4002502353709640827.post-8084538413171199143</id><published>2009-05-17T19:06:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-17T19:28:47.978-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='food'/><title type='text'>The Second Supper</title><content type='html'>Yeah, that whole part about me posting the menu and letting you know and what not? *ahem*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, dinner was great. Here is what we ate:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Radishes w Rosemary and Cilantro Butters and Fresh Bread&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sauteed Ramps and Fiddlehead Ferns w Roasted Garlic&lt;br /&gt;on Gnocchi w Shaved Pecorino&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Baked Apples in a Buttery Prosecco Sauce w Cinammon&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I usually hate everything I make. Total hater. Not this. This shit was the jam. It was simple. It was tasty. It wasn't too much. It wasn't too little. It was comforting. But it made you say "Wtf is this green thing? A fiddlehead fern? WTF IS THAT?" all while loving the flavor. And how.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Needless to say, the first gathering of the Uncleverly Named Eating Society went well. And, since I'm organized this time, I can officially announce this Friday's upcoming menu. You excited? Me too, cos it's GORGE!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;appetizer:&lt;br /&gt;grilled asparagus and fiddlehead ferns w a dijon hollandaise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;salad:&lt;br /&gt;mesclun, radish, pan fried manchego and pignoli w fennel seed vinaigrette&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1st plate:&lt;br /&gt;mussels in a garlic wine sauce&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2nd plate:&lt;br /&gt;quinoa croquette, cucumber dill relish w feta and greek yogurt sauce&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;dessert:&lt;br /&gt;rhubarb cobbler w mint ice cream&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and always: bread. herbed butter. olives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As much as possible, I'm going local. Even my gnocchi was local. So local it was from 3 blocks away. As much as I'd like it to be, I doubt that my local gnocchi was organic. You give and take. You can't have it all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hopefully, dinner pics will come soon. However, the midget did steal the camera in the middle of dinner, so I only have 1 picture from that night, and really, it's half a picture. If you were there, send me yr pics. I'd love some food porn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meanwhile, this week....it's all about foraging for the feast ahead. If you have any brilliant ingredient ideas, lemme know. I'm game....I have another dinner party in 3 weeks to think about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;xoxo.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4002502353709640827-8084538413171199143?l=hazardasamom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/feeds/8084538413171199143/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4002502353709640827&amp;postID=8084538413171199143' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/8084538413171199143'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/8084538413171199143'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/2009/05/second-supper.html' title='The Second Supper'/><author><name>jes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02751130217025208911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4002502353709640827.post-9058326972801113076</id><published>2009-05-03T19:41:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-03T20:28:37.700-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Uncleverly Named Eating Society'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='lazy'/><title type='text'>Uncleverly Named Eating Society</title><content type='html'>I've been a little slacky. Well, not really. I've been busy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's see... I got promoted, moved to a new store. (Yeay, me!)&lt;br /&gt;I started working out with a personal trainer, and then, when I moved to the new store, ended up gaining 6 lbs. (Eff you, baked goods)&lt;br /&gt;Most importantly and exciting though, I came up with a tremendous idea on how to keep in touch with my friends. But still cook. And be social. And drink wine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've created The Uncleverly Named Eating Society. No, I'm not kidding, I really named it that. Eventually, if I do find a clever name, then mayhaps I'll change it. But for now, I'm totally okay with that moniker. I've been dying to go to one of these underground supper club situations, but don't have time, and the majority, (save for 4 Course Vegan) are all a little too carcass-arrific. I figured this would be a great way to see all the friends that I have the "OMG, we need to hang out, for real. Let's do dinner/brunch. It's been too long. Yadda yadda" conversation with way too often. This, coupled with my overwhelming love of cooking and want to experiment with even more seasonal and local ingredients, allows me to kill several metaphorical birds with one stone. Just like one of the supper clubs, I send the menu out early in the week, ppl RSVP, and voila, a dinner party is born!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wanna get all up in it? Join the Uncleverly Named Eating Society group on Facebook. If I don't know you, give me a valid reason why you should be allowed entry. Or woo me with what treats you'll bring me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First one is this Friday. Menu comes out tomorrow. Will post it here and on the group's page. Off I go to menu plan!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;xoxo&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4002502353709640827-9058326972801113076?l=hazardasamom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/feeds/9058326972801113076/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4002502353709640827&amp;postID=9058326972801113076' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/9058326972801113076'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/9058326972801113076'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/2009/05/uncleverly-named-eating-society.html' title='Uncleverly Named Eating Society'/><author><name>jes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02751130217025208911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4002502353709640827.post-20589260500713437</id><published>2009-01-16T10:18:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-16T10:34:04.359-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='masquerade ball'/><title type='text'>Masquerading</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LP-_Up20yEA/SXCohvl9PkI/AAAAAAAAAEI/5i_6ULewQss/s1600-h/IMG_3254.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LP-_Up20yEA/SXCohvl9PkI/AAAAAAAAAEI/5i_6ULewQss/s320/IMG_3254.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291914859825151554" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LP-_Up20yEA/SXCohUEF4vI/AAAAAAAAAEA/4-Z4sa9JGJo/s1600-h/IMG_3236.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LP-_Up20yEA/SXCohUEF4vI/AAAAAAAAAEA/4-Z4sa9JGJo/s320/IMG_3236.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291914852435354354" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LP-_Up20yEA/SXCohCuPa_I/AAAAAAAAAD4/zHYhXuZdN60/s1600-h/IMG_3234.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LP-_Up20yEA/SXCohCuPa_I/AAAAAAAAAD4/zHYhXuZdN60/s320/IMG_3234.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291914847780301810" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LP-_Up20yEA/SXCohOQqvZI/AAAAAAAAADw/BPruhZzvhD8/s1600-h/IMG_3228.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LP-_Up20yEA/SXCohOQqvZI/AAAAAAAAADw/BPruhZzvhD8/s320/IMG_3228.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291914850877488530" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LP-_Up20yEA/SXCog0_0oGI/AAAAAAAAADo/UGnm9U87NzU/s1600-h/IMG_3227.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LP-_Up20yEA/SXCog0_0oGI/AAAAAAAAADo/UGnm9U87NzU/s320/IMG_3227.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291914844095946850" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you can see the rest of them &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/twinsiesevidence"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4002502353709640827-20589260500713437?l=hazardasamom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/feeds/20589260500713437/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4002502353709640827&amp;postID=20589260500713437' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/20589260500713437'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/20589260500713437'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/2009/01/masquerading.html' title='Masquerading'/><author><name>jes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02751130217025208911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LP-_Up20yEA/SXCohvl9PkI/AAAAAAAAAEI/5i_6ULewQss/s72-c/IMG_3254.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4002502353709640827.post-1895538194147776152</id><published>2009-01-10T11:13:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-10T11:25:39.048-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tria'/><title type='text'>Tria</title><content type='html'>Yesterday, Auden and I went for a stroll in the freezing cold cos we had cabin fever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Grabbed some coffee at Verb (which, ugh, people, how 90s are you?), bought Gerald a book by Mr. Gainsbourg at &lt;a href="http://www.spoonbillbooks.com/"&gt;Spoonbill&lt;/a&gt;, popped into Whisk (ran into a super old bud from Miami, totally random), and then headed down to &lt;a href="http://nymag.com/listings/stores/tria/"&gt;Tria&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ever been? You should go. I was always a fan of &lt;a href="http://www.bluecanaryvintage.com/"&gt;Blue Canary Vintage&lt;/a&gt; at Artists and Fleas, because Valerie, the owner, was always so nice and had curated such a nice collection of goods, including a massive vintage Ferragamo shoe collection. With her success there, she and 2 other pals from Artists and Fleas, Georgia and Ryan, opened up their own shop. It's effing brilliant. I want it all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went in, because Gerald bought me a necklace from Georgia's collection, and although it's super cute, it's totally not my steez, so I wanted to exchange it. I didn't find anything just perfect, but I wasn't really interested in shopping and was more entertained talking to Ryan who is fantastic, charming and makes some of the most gorgeous hats I've ever seen. Not even kidding. I wish I had the balls to wear some of the pieces that she makes. Maybe soon. Maybe for summer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If yr ever on Grand, pop on in there, because it's all gorgeous, reasonably priced and run by 3 amazing ladies.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4002502353709640827-1895538194147776152?l=hazardasamom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/feeds/1895538194147776152/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4002502353709640827&amp;postID=1895538194147776152' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/1895538194147776152'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/1895538194147776152'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/2009/01/tria.html' title='Tria'/><author><name>jes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02751130217025208911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4002502353709640827.post-28687779147071224</id><published>2009-01-07T15:47:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-07T16:20:05.452-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='urban rustic'/><title type='text'>Oh My Frittata</title><content type='html'>After an afternoon of play and snacks at Mamalu with Auden, I decided to pop into my fave grocery store, &lt;a href="http://urbanrusticnyc.com"&gt;Urban Rustic&lt;/a&gt; to pick up ingredients for tonight's frittata (and what will be tomorrow's breakfast if there's leftovers.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you've never been, you should. Yes, I'm going to make another list. Here's why:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Almost everything there is local and sustainable. If it's not local, then it's at least organic and still sustainable.&lt;br /&gt;2. They run on wind energy.&lt;br /&gt;3. They make effing awesome sammiches, burritos and omelettes. Their omelettes are huge, come with a protein and 2 other add ins, a salad and toast and costs $6.50. All local. All yum.&lt;br /&gt;4. Did I mention they deliver?&lt;br /&gt;5. Did I mention they do online grocery delivery for a freaking dollar. Yes. One. Dollar.&lt;br /&gt;6. Four words: French Apple Pie Granola&lt;br /&gt;7. They carry the whole range of Mast Brothers chocolate. (you should be sold on just this fact alone.)&lt;br /&gt;8. They have a cute little eat in cafe, and during the summer they have an outside offshoot by the dog run at McCarren where they grill sausages, both carcass and non-carcass.&lt;br /&gt;9. A massive assortment of vegan desserts that do not taste vegan.&lt;br /&gt;10. They sell organic vegetables grown by high school kids in a local Williamsburg school's farm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone there is always so nice, that it makes it an even better experience. It's like good karma all around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So if you get a chance, go, cos you should support yr local food scene. If yr by the park and need a really good latte and a sammich and maybe some eggs and prosciutto for later...go. You'll thank me. Your welcome in advance.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4002502353709640827-28687779147071224?l=hazardasamom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/feeds/28687779147071224/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4002502353709640827&amp;postID=28687779147071224' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/28687779147071224'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/28687779147071224'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/2009/01/oh-my-frittata.html' title='Oh My Frittata'/><author><name>jes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02751130217025208911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4002502353709640827.post-7809194274568505747</id><published>2009-01-05T17:36:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-05T17:54:30.171-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sugar free'/><title type='text'>Sugar Free Again, Day 1</title><content type='html'>Apparently, sugar free gives me mondo bitch face. I was tired. I wasn't sugared up. Everyone thought I was angry, cranky or annoyed. I was none of it, just tired.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I survived, tho.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the menu for tonight:&lt;br /&gt;Roasted local yellow zucchini and leeks&lt;br /&gt;Shaved fennel salad&lt;br /&gt;Baked tofu&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll tell  you how it turns out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and my new favorite website: &lt;a href="http://101cookbooks.com"&gt;101cookbooks.com&lt;/a&gt; . Ch-ch-check it!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4002502353709640827-7809194274568505747?l=hazardasamom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/feeds/7809194274568505747/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4002502353709640827&amp;postID=7809194274568505747' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/7809194274568505747'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/7809194274568505747'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/2009/01/sugar-free-again-day-1.html' title='Sugar Free Again, Day 1'/><author><name>jes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02751130217025208911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4002502353709640827.post-1836014317513954415</id><published>2009-01-04T19:26:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-04T19:38:28.459-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='health'/><title type='text'>Eff Cookies.</title><content type='html'>Okay, so that whole "blah blah blah, look at me, I can eat all the cookies I want and not get fat" bullshit is dunzo. This bitch has gained like 5 lbs in I don't know exactly how long, but it is unacceptable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's fine tho, cos it's all about health right now. Health. Health. Health. This is the Healthy New Year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What that means: I'm going back on the sugar free diet. Oh yes. It's gonna be great though, because for Christmas, my dearest husband got me sessions with a personal trainer as a gift. Sweet, lovely husband. This also means that back fat go bye bye. This is most exciting and riveting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My plan to lose 10-15 lbs: (Yes, I do have it to lose, it's all on my waist, I just hide it well, I promise.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Get the damn trainer on the phone. He's been on vacation for a week.&lt;br /&gt;-Start menu planning. (I already have this week's food planned!)&lt;br /&gt;-Drink less. I need to de-Proseccofy my life a bit.&lt;br /&gt;-Be super supportive of my friends who are also looking to be Health. It'll help me. Sharing is caring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll start posting recipes as I come across them. And if I get a little ambitious I may even take pictures of my food. But as you can see from the lack of pics on my blog, I'm a lazy bitch and the chances of that happening are slim to none.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's to Health. Here's to the end of back fat forever. Here's to wearing a bikini in a few months and making people very very angry. :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Health Year, betches.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4002502353709640827-1836014317513954415?l=hazardasamom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/feeds/1836014317513954415/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4002502353709640827&amp;postID=1836014317513954415' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/1836014317513954415'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/1836014317513954415'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/2009/01/eff-cookies.html' title='Eff Cookies.'/><author><name>jes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02751130217025208911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4002502353709640827.post-2164956964902767217</id><published>2008-12-17T11:23:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-17T11:43:57.255-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='wren'/><title type='text'>My friend's Wren</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LP-_Up20yEA/SUksJBaFxWI/AAAAAAAAADg/Fu7LbqQLQVg/s1600-h/il_155x125.48737150.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 155px; height: 125px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LP-_Up20yEA/SUksJBaFxWI/AAAAAAAAADg/Fu7LbqQLQVg/s320/il_155x125.48737150.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280800571576927586" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My upstairs neighbor Mary  has started a gorgeous little line of hand knit baby dresses and sweet candles called &lt;a href="http://wrenstore.etsy.com/"&gt;Wren&lt;/a&gt;. Seeing as I have a big mouth, I had to share.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When Mary asked if she could borrow my child one Saturday morning, I knew she must have been up to some goodness and ran upstairs to see what she had going on. After measuring Auden for reference, she showed me what she was up to. Perfect little dresses, with perfect little bows. I started picturing a little girl with some ribbons in her hair and colored tights and mary janes, having a tea party. I will admit, it made my ovaries ache a little. (No, not anytime soon, get over it, don't even ask.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As of right now, she's only got dresses, so Auden can't be a little model, but the second she gets to her baby boy line, I'm SO snatching it all up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4002502353709640827-2164956964902767217?l=hazardasamom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/feeds/2164956964902767217/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4002502353709640827&amp;postID=2164956964902767217' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/2164956964902767217'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/2164956964902767217'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/2008/12/my-friends-wren.html' title='My friend&apos;s Wren'/><author><name>jes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02751130217025208911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LP-_Up20yEA/SUksJBaFxWI/AAAAAAAAADg/Fu7LbqQLQVg/s72-c/il_155x125.48737150.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4002502353709640827.post-704610615879035600</id><published>2008-12-16T15:02:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-16T15:11:04.402-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='christmas list'/><title type='text'>Christmas Wishes, the selfish edition</title><content type='html'>1. A new bag. My purple plastic one is all kindsa tore up.&lt;br /&gt;2. A new winter coat. I haven't bought a winter coat since fall 05.&lt;br /&gt;3. My apartment to be magically reorganized and purged exactly how I want it.&lt;br /&gt;4. To own no extra crap.&lt;br /&gt;5. That junk mail would go away. It clutters my life and is not very green.&lt;br /&gt;6. At least one Le Creuset piece. Either casserole with lid or grill pan.&lt;br /&gt;7. A cleaning person to come once a month and do all the things I don't wanna.&lt;br /&gt;8. Magically self folding and hanging clothing.&lt;br /&gt;9. Milk spills to not stink on clothing.&lt;br /&gt;10. Baxter's poo to smell less like, well, poo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and in unselfish wishes:&lt;br /&gt;Happiness and health for my family and friends, plenty of non Elmo or Barney toys for Auden, new boots for Gerald, boyfriends (or at least several hot sexy dates) for my single friends, and peace on earth, goodwill towards man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whatchoo want from Santy Claws?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4002502353709640827-704610615879035600?l=hazardasamom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/feeds/704610615879035600/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4002502353709640827&amp;postID=704610615879035600' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/704610615879035600'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/704610615879035600'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/2008/12/christmas-wishes-selfish-edition.html' title='Christmas Wishes, the selfish edition'/><author><name>jes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02751130217025208911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4002502353709640827.post-3541990446801249863</id><published>2008-11-27T20:39:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-27T21:12:14.304-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='whole foods'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='thanksgiving'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='worms'/><title type='text'>Thankswormy Dinner</title><content type='html'>Gerald and I are both pescatarians. Actually, I'm pretty much vegetarian, save for when I cave at the sight of a Dumont crab cake, or you put some Sweetwater calamari in front of me. I lost my ability to eat shrimp during my preggers. Sucks, I know. I'm forever scampiless, which is a shame because I make it effing amazing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhow, Thanksgiving for us has always been a seafood feast: king crab legs and the aforementioned scampi. This year, I wanted to switch it up a bit. Make it less Florida-y and a more seasonal. I decided on cod, since that doesn't gross me out, and parsnip mash and roasted seasonal vegetables and a pumpkin pie. It was perfect. It was going to be so easy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We made our annual trek to Whole Foods in Union Square (which was surprisingly empty...). There was no line in the seafood department, and the very friendly fishmonger got me 2 8-oz fillets. Picked up 2 lbs of parsnips, some garlic and a clamshell of local seasonal veggies that included some purple and orange cauliflour, peculiar broccoli and other yummies. Perfect!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I made my cheater's pumpkin pie using organic pumpkin pie mix from a can and a premade graham cracker crust. Shh, don't judge. Then, it was time to peel and chop my parsnips. Mixed that with all the cloves of garlic from one bulb and some Portuguese olive oil and salt and pepper, and threw it all in the oven for 20 minutes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While that was roasting, I decided to prep my seasonal vegetables. Opened the clamshell...and ew. And by ew, I mean, the orange cauliflour had peculiar smelly brown spots all over it. There went that idea. I had an acorn squash that I kept forgetting to use, so I found a great recipe for a savory version that had a chile lime vinaigrette. I prepped the squash and improvised a smidge on the vinaigrette, since I didn't have fresh chiles and used the piri piri oil I made last month instead. By the time that was over, it was time to mash the parsnips and let the acorn squash roast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So far, my timing was really on point, and I was feeling really organized. When the squash had 10 minutes left, it was time to cook the cod. I seasoned each side with just salt and pepper, put some more Portuguese olive oil (it tastes way better than normal Italian olive oil, I swear) in the pan to heat and then gently eased the cod onto the heated pan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What a feeling! My parnsips were plated, my vinaigrette was ready, the squash was almost done and cod was 5 minutes away from perfection. I revisited the fish to make sure it was cooking nice and evenly and noticed something....disturbing. There was something moving. On my fish. There was something small and thin and whitish squeezing it's way out of my fish. What. The. Fuck. Is that a fucking worm? Am I crazy? Is there a worm in my fish? No, for real, what the fuck is that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I couldn't call Gerald over, because he was trying to get Auden to nap. I was starting to panic. Whole Foods sold me rotten seasonal vegetables and wormy fish. Thanksgiving dinner was ruined! I did a quick &lt;a href="http://beyondsalmon.blogspot.com/2006/09/parasites-in-fish-part-1-cod-worm.html"&gt;google search&lt;/a&gt;. I typed: worm in fish. Lo and behold, my cod had...codworms. Apparently, this is normal. Apparently, almost all white fish have worms. We just don't know about them because fishmongers use a technique called 'candeling' before they sell us fish to get all the worms out before we freak the fuck out and throw the shit away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I removed the now dead worm out of the fish and threw it away. And we had our Thankswormy cod that was delicious. Although, I must admit, I was overanalyzing every piece that went into my mouth. And, full confession, I lasted 5 bites and gave the rest to Gerald. I swear I just felt little things squirming in my belly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let this be a lesson to you: worms in yr fish are okay, as long as they're dead. And all your fish have them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bon Apetit, and Happy Thanksgiving, y'all!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4002502353709640827-3541990446801249863?l=hazardasamom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/feeds/3541990446801249863/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4002502353709640827&amp;postID=3541990446801249863' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/3541990446801249863'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/3541990446801249863'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/2008/11/thankswormy-dinner.html' title='Thankswormy Dinner'/><author><name>jes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02751130217025208911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4002502353709640827.post-6848141745819757511</id><published>2008-11-25T16:22:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-25T16:29:05.540-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bitch is back'/><title type='text'>Back by (un)Popular Demand!</title><content type='html'>Excuse me, bloggers, I have sinned. It's been a little over 3 months since my last confession, er, blog. (I swear, that Catholic guilt is never ending.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So much has happened! I'm most definitely in my 30s now, Midget is a year old (and talking and walking and being generally awesome), Deanna and I had our masquerade ball (pics to come), and it's been crazy at the Rock. But crazy good not crazy ew.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I must say, I am inspired right now. My brain is buzzing with billions of ideas. Starting put finger to keyboard and make them happen. There's just not enough hours in the day. You understand, no? Food and parties and crafts and glitter and books and paint and this that and the other thing. It'll all happen. I'll letcha know. You betcha. *wink*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhoo, the bitch is back. I promise to blog more often. And Susan, yr allowed to yell at me if I don't :D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4002502353709640827-6848141745819757511?l=hazardasamom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/feeds/6848141745819757511/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4002502353709640827&amp;postID=6848141745819757511' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/6848141745819757511'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/6848141745819757511'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/2008/11/back-by-unpopular-demand.html' title='Back by (un)Popular Demand!'/><author><name>jes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02751130217025208911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4002502353709640827.post-7969782328513171827</id><published>2008-08-13T21:04:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-15T11:38:20.200-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='omnivores hundred'/><title type='text'>Clearly, I'm not an omnivore.</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;I got this list from &lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/lastnightsdinner.net"&gt;Last Night's Dinner&lt;/a&gt;. I feel like a lightweight of eating, but, some shit on the list is straight up revolting.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Rules:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;1) Copy this list into your blog or journal, including these instructions.&lt;br /&gt;2) Bold all the items you’ve eaten.&lt;br /&gt;3) Cross out any items that you would never consider eating. (I put an X)&lt;br /&gt;4) Optional extra: Post a comment at www.verygoodtaste.co.uk linking to your results.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The VGT Omnivore’s Hundred:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;strong style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;1. Venison-X&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Nettle tea&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;3. Huevos rancheros&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt; 4. Steak tartare-X&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Crocodile-X&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;6. Black pudding (wtf is this? if it's something with congealed blood, then yeah, no.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Cheese fondue&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. Carp&lt;br /&gt;9. Borscht&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;10. Baba ghanoush&lt;br /&gt;11. Calamari&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt; 12. Pho&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13. PB&amp;amp;J sandwich&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;14. Aloo gobi&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;15. Hot dog from a street cart&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;16. Epoisses&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt; 17. Black truffle&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18. Fruit wine made from something other than grapes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt; 19. Steamed pork buns-X&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20. Pistachio ice cream&lt;br /&gt;21. Heirloom tomatoes&lt;br /&gt;22. Fresh wild berries&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt; 23. Foie gras-X&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;24. Rice and beans&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt; 25. Brawn, or head cheese-X&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt; 26. Raw Scotch Bonnet pepper&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;27. Dulce de leche&lt;br /&gt;28. Oysters&lt;br /&gt;29. Baklava&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt; 30. &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bagna_C%C3%A0uda"&gt;Bagna cauda&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;31. Wasabi pea&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;s&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt; 32. Clam chowder in a sourdough bowl (I have in a non-sourdough bowl...half point!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;33. Salted lassi&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;34. Sauerkraut&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;35. Root beer float (but yum, I want one)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;36. Cognac with a fat cigar&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;37. Clotted cream tea (what exactly is clotting??)&lt;br /&gt;38. Vodka jelly&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;39. Gumbo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt; 40. Oxtail-X&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;41. Curried goat (does the kind from Mighty Diamond count even tho it's vegan?)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;42. Whole insects-X&lt;br /&gt;43. Phaal&lt;br /&gt;44. Goat’s milk&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;45. Malt whisky from a bottle worth £60/$120 or more&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;46. Fugu&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;47. Chicken tikka masala-X&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt; 48. Eel-X&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;49. Krispy Kreme original glazed doughnut (by the dozen, by myself!)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;50. Sea urchin-X&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;51. Prickly pear&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;52. Umeboshi&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;53. Abalone&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;54. Paneer&lt;br /&gt;55. McDonald’s Big Mac Meal&lt;br /&gt;56. Spaetzle&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt; 57. Dirty gin martini&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt; 58. Beer above 8% ABV&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt; 59. Poutine&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt; 60. Carob chips&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;61. S’mores&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt; 62. Sweetbreads-X&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;63. Kaolin&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;64. Currywurst&lt;br /&gt;65. Durian-X&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;66. Frogs’ legs-X&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;67. Beignets, churros, elephant ears or funnel cake&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;68. Haggis-X (HELL NO)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;69. Fried plantain&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;70. Chitterlings, or andouillette&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;71. Gazpacho&lt;br /&gt;72. Caviar and blini&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt; 73. Louche absinthe&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;74. Gjetost, or brunost&lt;br /&gt;75. &lt;del datetime="2008-08-13T15:07:38+00:00"&gt;Roadkill-X&lt;/del&gt;&lt;br /&gt;76. Baijiu&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;77. Hostess Fruit Pie&lt;br /&gt;78. Snail&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt; 79. Lapsang souchong&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;80. Bellini&lt;br /&gt;81. Tom yum&lt;br /&gt;82. Eggs Benedict&lt;br /&gt;83. Pocky&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;84. Tasting menu at a three-Michelin-star restaurant.&lt;br /&gt;85. Kobe beef-X&lt;br /&gt;86. Hare-X&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;87. Goulash-X&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;88. Flowers&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;89. Horse-X&lt;br /&gt;90. Criollo chocolate&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;91. Spam-X&lt;br /&gt;92. Soft shell crab&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;93. Rose harissa&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;94. Catfish&lt;br /&gt;95. Mole poblano&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt; 96. Bagel and lox-X (I hate salmon)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;97. Lobster Thermidor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;98. Polenta&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt; 99. Jamaican Blue Mountain coffee&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;100. Snake-X&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I've eaten 38 out of 100. Not bad?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4002502353709640827-7969782328513171827?l=hazardasamom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/feeds/7969782328513171827/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4002502353709640827&amp;postID=7969782328513171827' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/7969782328513171827'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/7969782328513171827'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/2008/08/clearly-im-not-omnivore.html' title='Clearly, I&apos;m not an omnivore.'/><author><name>jes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02751130217025208911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4002502353709640827.post-350749116850073979</id><published>2008-08-10T20:40:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-10T21:09:15.373-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='back to school'/><title type='text'>Back to School, er, kinda.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LP-_Up20yEA/SJ-QmFCgZXI/AAAAAAAAACg/V6RpsWYdkE0/s1600-h/images.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LP-_Up20yEA/SJ-QmFCgZXI/AAAAAAAAACg/V6RpsWYdkE0/s320/images.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233060275889923442" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I don't know if this happens you, but every August, when all the Back to School commercials start up, I always feel it's time to organize. Maybe it's the 12 years of prepping by clothes shopping, and picking which color paper I was going to use for the beginning of the year (I always started out really strong but ended up using jacked up pieces from the back of my spiral notebook by the end of the year.), and getting my head wrapped around the concept that I wasn't going to be able to watch &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Days of Our Lives&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The Brady Bunch&lt;/span&gt; until the next holiday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My events calendar is still full, but I'm not planning so far out in advance. Well, except for the Masquerade Ball, Auden's first birthday, trapeze class, and some assorted other classes to sprinkle around...but for me...that's pretty damn light.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right now, I just want to cook. It's a shame that most of the time I come home from work, I'm so assed out tired that I can barely hang out with Auden, let alone *think* about feeding two other people besides myself. But I gotta do it. I think I'm gonna start - wait for it - menu planning. *shudder* That sounds so suburban. It sounds like something someone with a minivan does. But, my friends, it has come to that. No more sandwiches, or ordering from &lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/www.ellacafe.com"&gt;Ella Cafe&lt;/a&gt; or &lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/www.mightydiamondbrooklyn.com"&gt;Mighty Diamond&lt;/a&gt; (and telling myself "It's okay! It's still healthy!"). Oh no, we're not falling into that rut, my pretties.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been successful in challenging myself here and there with food. I ordered some local yellow zucchini from Fresh Direct, and I did a simple roasting in the oven and it came out marvelous. So I did it again tonight, but I added red peppers to the mix and then made some quinoa w green onions and topped with raw cherry tomatoes and some half sliced Tofurkey Italian snausage. It was easy. I didn't have to think about it. Okay, and maybe zucchini isn't so much of a challenge, but you know, it's not my favorite thing on earth to eat, and I made it taste pretty damn awesome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My next major challenge: cooking for Auden. Mister is getting all growed  up and mama's gotta start cooking for him. Can't rely on a jar forever. If you know any awesome organic, local kiddo recipes, holler at yr girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So while I'm not picking out a new Trapper Keeper this season (shut up, you had one too and you miss it), I am thinking about new things. Fall is a serious thinking time of year. The fun and the sun are subsiding. Soon it will be nighttime at 3 in the afternoon. It's time to be indoors and have some really great snuggly family and friends time. Most probably, more house parties will be involved, the drinks will be less bubbly, and the pie floweth over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time to buy a coat!!! Hooray!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4002502353709640827-350749116850073979?l=hazardasamom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/feeds/350749116850073979/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4002502353709640827&amp;postID=350749116850073979' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/350749116850073979'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/350749116850073979'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/2008/08/back-to-school-er-kinda.html' title='Back to School, er, kinda.'/><author><name>jes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02751130217025208911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LP-_Up20yEA/SJ-QmFCgZXI/AAAAAAAAACg/V6RpsWYdkE0/s72-c/images.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4002502353709640827.post-2370990479013316998</id><published>2008-07-29T11:04:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-29T12:29:14.016-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='perfect'/><title type='text'>Perfection</title><content type='html'>This weekend had a lot of perfection, I'll share:&lt;br /&gt;Saturday:&lt;br /&gt;1. Out of 3 omelets made, one was perfect.&lt;br /&gt;    a) pear juice + prosecco = new fave brunch bevvie&lt;br /&gt;2. Found 2 pairs of perfect fitting jeans for less than $32 total.&lt;br /&gt;3. Had $3 Bloody Marys. Not perfect, but super cheap, which is close to perfect.&lt;br /&gt;4. Bought more of Raspberry Fields Forever's French Apple Pie granola. Absolutely perfect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday:&lt;br /&gt;1. Out of 3 omelets made, one was perfect. Fingerling potatoes were pretty rocking too.&lt;br /&gt;2. Deanna made Key Lime pie. O.M.G. Effing perfect.&lt;br /&gt;3. Brooklyn Flea: found some amazing architectural pieces. Want!!&lt;br /&gt;4. Sitting in a bar in the rain, bouncing baby on knee, whilst playing Connect Four and Battleship. Also, more Bloody Marys.&lt;br /&gt;5. The Yard, for Martina's birthday. Low key, good music, good people, outdoors in Brooklyn!&lt;br /&gt;6. Homemade pesto w pasta...not so perfect....(eff you whole wheat pasta). More Key Lime pie...perfect end to a perfect weekend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Top that!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4002502353709640827-2370990479013316998?l=hazardasamom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/feeds/2370990479013316998/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4002502353709640827&amp;postID=2370990479013316998' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/2370990479013316998'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/2370990479013316998'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/2008/07/perfection.html' title='Perfection'/><author><name>jes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02751130217025208911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4002502353709640827.post-5041113275641926404</id><published>2008-07-26T10:08:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-26T15:16:57.992-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='yacking'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='williamsburg escapades'/><title type='text'>Excuses, excuses</title><content type='html'>So I was doing well with the whole blogging daily thing, and then struck Applebee's. There was no eating good in the neighborhood. After a successful shopping escapade at Woodbury Commons, and an unfortunate detour on or way back, as soon as we crossed the line into Jersey, out came the spinachy bruschetta pizza thingee I had. While Auden was crying. And we were lost in Jersey. And I quietly yacked into a Banana Republic bag. And then into a Converse bag in Astoria. (Thanks for taking care of that, Jen) and then again every half hour for about 6 hours. That was on a Saturday. I didn't feel like a human again until Thursday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then there was a work marathon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But today is a new day! I'm off this weekend! Today is family day and we're going to the Greenmarket, Urban Rustic, Marlow and Sons, Mamalu, Word, Brooklyn Kitchen and all my other fave stores in the hood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow will be the perfect Sunday. I'm making brunch. Deanna's making Key Lime Pie. Then we're off to the Brooklyn Flea. Then, off to the Yard for Thee Wurst BBQ, but more importantly, it's Martina's birthday! Can a day get any better?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hazard is back, y'all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4002502353709640827-5041113275641926404?l=hazardasamom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/feeds/5041113275641926404/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4002502353709640827&amp;postID=5041113275641926404' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/5041113275641926404'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/5041113275641926404'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/2008/07/excuses-excuses.html' title='Excuses, excuses'/><author><name>jes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02751130217025208911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4002502353709640827.post-1374917580728035182</id><published>2008-07-08T15:17:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-08T15:33:31.623-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='auden'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='baby food'/><title type='text'>A Midget Moment...</title><content type='html'>This morning I had to be at work for a meeting at 7 am, and then dashed out at 9 am to meet Gerald and Auden for his 9 month doctor's appointment. He's been alive almost as long as he was inside me now. That's so nuts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The stats:&lt;br /&gt;He's 29.5 inches long...he's in the 90th percentile for height.&lt;br /&gt;He's 22.5 lbs...the 75th percentile for weight.&lt;br /&gt;And his head is still huge. But doctor measured daddy's head too, and then she was like "Oh." So I guess the mystery is solved in the huge head syndrome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In even better news, he's going to get to start eating all kinds of fun foods now, and I'm super excited to start actually COOKING for my son. He can have rice, pasta, quinoa, yogurt, eggs and other crap. I think that will be such a fun thing to do. Luckily, Auden is NOT a finnicky eater (even tho he went thru a "I hate bananas" stage, but he's since gotten over that.) so I don't have to do all the sneaky food crap that Jerry Seinfeld's wife stole recipes for a book about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and as of tomorrow there will be pics. Loads of them. I swear. I have a power agenda for tomorrow and picture posting is one of my many many tasks. But I do this for you, my 3 loyal readers, I do this for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Off to work I go...have to be there at 5 pm. Split shifts are no good for the soul. :/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;xoxo&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4002502353709640827-1374917580728035182?l=hazardasamom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/feeds/1374917580728035182/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4002502353709640827&amp;postID=1374917580728035182' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/1374917580728035182'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/1374917580728035182'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/2008/07/midget-moment.html' title='A Midget Moment...'/><author><name>jes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02751130217025208911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4002502353709640827.post-2616803192787518691</id><published>2008-07-07T22:04:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-07T22:30:45.034-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='skinny bitch'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='no reservations'/><title type='text'>How did that happen?</title><content type='html'>Went to the gym today for he first time since mid May. I know, I'm horrible, but at least I went. I was really super traumatized cos I could swear I've gained like ten lbs in the past month. I stepped on the scale. I gave myself a certain number that I would be okay with and not freak out. Meanwhile, the scale went the other way. As in, I lost weight. As in, I hit my 5 below original goal weight. How the hell did that happen considering I eat two fucking Cucina &amp;amp; Co chocolate chip cookies EVERY DAY? I haven't mentioned that I do that lately, huh? Alright, full confession: sometimes I get the giant one. It has two kinds of chocolate chunks. And at 4 pm, they're half off. I cannot be denied.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, since I ate super good today, and had no Cucina cookies, and I went to the gym, and I miraculously lost weight (which I'm still baffled by), I'm totally going to be on good behavior again. And there's a new weight goal. Another 10 lbs. If I make it, I'll be 20 lbs below pre-baby weight. If yr a girl, you know that's massive. But I can do it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and I finished Julie and Julia today. So super cute. I'm bummed that it's done. However, I read Julie's blog and apparently she's coming out with a new book early next year. Hooray! Either tomorrow or Wednesday, I'm going to hit up Word and get a new book. If I can keep up this pace I can read a whole buncha buncha goodness by the end of the year. I won't set a goal for this one, cos I'll just straight up fail.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, I need a snackie. I made amazing roasted fennel and some qunioa and beans after the gym, but I'm still hungry and it's the season premiere of No Reservations! Hooray for Tony!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;xoxo&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4002502353709640827-2616803192787518691?l=hazardasamom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/feeds/2616803192787518691/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4002502353709640827&amp;postID=2616803192787518691' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/2616803192787518691'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/2616803192787518691'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/2008/07/how-did-that-happen.html' title='How did that happen?'/><author><name>jes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02751130217025208911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4002502353709640827.post-5655539434246775744</id><published>2008-07-06T20:13:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-06T20:48:44.418-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='julie julia project'/><title type='text'>The Julie/Julia Project</title><content type='html'>Okay, so I'm a little behind on the scene, and never knew this blog existed until a few weeks ago, when I heard about the movie being filmed starring Meryl Streep. Last week, I went to Word and bought Julie and Julia. (Have I mentioned that Word is the best bookstore? I think I may have once, but it's worth repeating. Christine is fabulous and I vow to buy every single book from there from now on. Support yr local scene, maaan.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I started reading it last week, and I'm about two train rides away from completing it. (I can only read on the train now. No time at home.) I'm not an iPod on the train kinda person anyway. I have to listen to loud stupid Lilth chick rock for 8 hours a day, I revel in my quiet time. Since it's 2 trains to the Rock everyday, I get plenty of reading in. (Occasionally, I do close my eyes for a hot minute or three, because I'm easily lulled in the subway, surprisingly.) But frankly, it's such a great book that I'm breezing through it. It took me over a month to read The Omnivore's Dilemma. Not this one, tho. It's so good. I've read other people say this about the book, but, I feel like I know her. I would like to know her. I should know her. Think she'll have brunch with me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That might be the new mission: get Julie to have brunch with me. Or at least a latte.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Due to interweb connectivity issues, I'mma gonna have to cut this one a little short. But, Julie....yr cordially invited to a latte. Not that yr reading this. Although, that would be cool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;xoxo&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4002502353709640827-5655539434246775744?l=hazardasamom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/feeds/5655539434246775744/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4002502353709640827&amp;postID=5655539434246775744' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/5655539434246775744'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/5655539434246775744'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/2008/07/juliejulia-project.html' title='The Julie/Julia Project'/><author><name>jes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02751130217025208911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4002502353709640827.post-7502724545037394871</id><published>2008-07-04T21:06:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-04T21:47:45.269-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='4th of july'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='quinoa'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='plum'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rancho gordo'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='garlic scape'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='urban rustic'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='nita nita'/><title type='text'>Mad treats!</title><content type='html'>I slept pretty horribly last night, but it was still better than the 4 hours or less I've been averaging for a few weeks. For some reason tho, I woke up this morning and I just felt like cooking. When you open yr eyes and you see yr son smiling at you and slapping yr face, and yr cat contemplating biting you, and yr husband happy to see you awake because he knows breakfast is coming...you kinda know it's gonna be a good day. I brushed my teeth, kissed my boys and off to the kitchen I went.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm still on a mission to make the perfect omelet. I'm pretty good. But I wanna make eggs like they make them at Dumont. How the fuck do they get them so light and fluffy and perfectly baby yellow and NO BROWN MARKS? HOW??? If you know, please share with me, because it's killing me. I made chipotle eggs with a chipotle butter sauce. Sounds fancy, but basically I just used the miracle chipotle seasoning that Becca gave me, and beat it in with my eggs, and when they were done, melted some butter and put more of the miracle chipotle in and lightly beat it before pouring it all over the eggs. Gerald declared these "best eggs ever." I don't believe him anymore because he seems to say that a lot lately. I think it's because for a few days I was treating him to chipotle fried eggs with soppy yolks. Blech. I hate soppy yokes, but he's into it, so I give the man what he likes. Whattayagonnado?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had an idea of what I wanted to cook, but needed more supplies, and it's the fucking Fourth of July! Time to play! Gerald saw a cartoon hot dog on the telly before we left and he had that "must have hot dog" look on his face. So, off we went to hunt for hot dogs and fireworks. Luckily, whilst walking, I managed to convince him to go to Nita Nita because I saw a sandwich board stating that they had an outside bbq going on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can I just say that it was so good? I got scared that we were going to be eating grilled shit on a stick when I saw the prices, cos they were really cheap, but then again, for the price how could we not try it? So we ordered two $3 portobello burgers in herb aioli, 2 corns with honey butter and 1 coleslaw with mustard seeds. Oh, and two bloody marys. Everything was fanfuckingtastic, except the bloody marys. Gerald got another portoburger. But when it came to round deux of drinks, we thought it best to hit somewhere else because they weren't rocking my world. We did a quick drive by the park on the water on N 8th and then cut thru McCarren on our way to Lokal. We don't know why we like that place, but we do. It has a Florida feeling to it, and they play awful music, but we once had a fab cucumber soup there and the drinks are hella cheap. When we got there, they were out of BM mix, so G had a mimosa and I had a bad ass Cava. An excellent choice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Feeling lovely, we hit Urban Rustic for dinner supplies. I bought: garlic scapes, basil, an Amy's baguette, 3 plums, an avocado, and a tomato. The guy behind the counter caught me looking up to the ceiling and muttering to myself, and then stopping, and then looking to the other side and muttering again. "Counting?" he asked. "No," I said, "trying to think of ingredients while slightly buzzing. It's not working out so well."  He laughed and shook his head. What? It's true. I was building flavors in my brain and they were getting distracted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The end result: garlic scape and basil pesto that I blended into some quinoa, garlic sauteed in my Rancho Gordo vaquero beans, chopped cukes and maters in salt, oil and lime, and cut pieces of baguette to sop it all around. But, my piece de resistance....dessert! I'm not one for making desserts usually, but when I saw the plums at Urban Rustic, I had to. I melted some butter and put in the chopped plums and bananas. I grated some cinammon and added a healthy splash of prosecco and let it cook down for a few moments. It literally took me about all of 10 minutes to make this, and the results were fucking awesome. Next time, I'll probably not put the bananas in with the plums immediately because they did disintegrate a little too quick, but they gave the sauce a nice flavor. Also, the garlic scape pesto in the quinoa was pretty rad, although I feel like it needed one extra thing in it that I couldn't quite put my finger on. I'll definitely make it again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy 4th of July everyone! All 3 people that read this blog! :D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4002502353709640827-7502724545037394871?l=hazardasamom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/feeds/7502724545037394871/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4002502353709640827&amp;postID=7502724545037394871' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/7502724545037394871'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/7502724545037394871'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/2008/07/mad-treats.html' title='Mad treats!'/><author><name>jes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02751130217025208911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4002502353709640827.post-5643749410770594299</id><published>2008-07-03T16:21:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-03T16:43:53.937-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='auden'/><title type='text'>Midgetizing</title><content type='html'>I haven't talked about him lately. I swear, I still have a kid. But sometimes, as a mom, it's nice to have something else to talk about. As people who know me can attest to, I'm &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;always&lt;/span&gt; talking about Auden because basically, he's amazing, and far superior of a human being than I can ever strive to be.  However, sometimes a topic change is necessary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Midge has hit some milestones in this, his eighth month of life, that I would like to share with you. (Holy fuck, I can't believe he's so old already. Almost a year! Egads!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. He's officially crawling. Everywhere. Unfortunately, I've been slack on the sweeping scene. It shows on his onesie. You don't know how tempted I am to wrap him in Swiffers and let him go at it. That's not child abuse right? That's multitasking!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. He's on the verge of his 2nd set of teeth. He is NOT happy about them at all. It's been a rough couple of nights. Mummy and Daddy aren't sleeping too well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. He has several words now! He says: mamamamama (usually when he's mad, or hungry, or sad, but also when he sees me!) Also, he says: babababa, dadadada, and yayayaya. Oh, and he sings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. He loves paper. I mean &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;loves&lt;/span&gt; it. Often times, you can find him reading take out menus upside down, ripping pages off of my Domino magazines on the rack and perusing the bits before he tries to eat it, and wiping tables off with napkins.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. He likes to slam his hands on tables and call order in the court.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. He "pets" Baxter. Sometimes, he's sweet. Othertimes, not so much. Poor Bax is patient, however, Mr Midge has been swatted a few times by the behemoth cat, and he has gotten a few scratches. Somehow, Auden found this amusing. Lordy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He has a doctor's appointment on Tuesday. I think they're gonna expand his menu. He's already eating chicken and turkey....maybe soon he eats fish?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How come they grow up so fast? Why can't he just stay little and perfect? I am formally protesting him growing anymore. I want him little and mine forever! :/&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4002502353709640827-5643749410770594299?l=hazardasamom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/feeds/5643749410770594299/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4002502353709640827&amp;postID=5643749410770594299' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/5643749410770594299'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/5643749410770594299'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/2008/07/midgetizing.html' title='Midgetizing'/><author><name>jes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02751130217025208911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4002502353709640827.post-1444669852346810827</id><published>2008-06-30T21:07:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-30T21:51:43.819-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='beer'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='potatoes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='iron chef america'/><title type='text'>Cooking with beer and more Iron Cheffery</title><content type='html'>In today's edition of &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Why the L Train is the Bane of My Existence&lt;/span&gt;: We had to be at the Chelsea Market by 9 am. We left the house at 8.30. Plenty of time to get to 8th Avenue and walk one block, right? Right. The L train is Murphy's Law as a locomotive. Anytime you &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;really&lt;/span&gt; need to get somewhere on time, you won't. Because the L train hates you. We ended up getting off at 3rd Ave at 8.54 and tried to hail a cab. Ha. I don't know which one of us brainiacs thought that we could hail a cab on 14th street and 3rd Ave at 8.54 am with ease. Miraculously, somehow, we got to the Chelsea Market and the Food Network studios at 9.04. Whew.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gerald's friend Andy, who works for Iron Chef and got us the tickets, met us downstairs, and whisked us up the elevator after we signed our life away onto some non disclosure agreements. I still don't know what I signed off on. We waited for a bit outside whilst they did some preliminary filming, and then we were in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since I don't know what I signed, and I don't know if Food Network has Google alerts, I won't tell you too much. Well, I really can't tell you too much because we left before Iron Chef Cat Cora's judging and the final decision. It was 12.30 and that shit was still filming. Meanwhile, we'd been sitting in kitchen stadium for over 3 hours with the amazing smell of a billion butters (the secret ingredient! shhh), and all I had was a small bowl of Muesli before I left and we needed to eat. Stat. The whole time I was sitting there, I was daydreaming of Amy's Bread and the Italian market. I was really excited to see that one of the butters they had was actually the one that I'm currently using! Hooray for Vermont Butter and Cheese!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhoo, during breaks, we got to talk to one of the sous chefs, Michael, who was really really cool, and got to say a few words to ALTON BROWN (!!!!) and the Chairman. Did I mention Isaac Mizrahi was there? He was so wonderfully queeny and great.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We left the Chelsea Market after I bought Janine some Italian cherry tree honey, and got us some black peppercorns and roasted fava beans. Omg they're so good. Highly recommend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So how do I not cook an interesting, okay maybe not &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;super&lt;/span&gt; interesting, but jazzy nonetheless dinner, after watching some of the most amazing meals I've seen cooked earlier in the day? I can't. So I did. I was really inspired by Mary's use of Guinness in her mustard sauce. There was leftover beer in the fridge. And I had some Russian fingerling potatoes. And parsley. And fresh mozz. Something good can come of this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I roughly chopped some spring garlic, including the stems, and did a quick saute in some olive oil. Threw in the fingerling potatoes and some salt and let it get a little brown. Then came the Czech beer I found in my fridge. Was that yrs Mikey? Let it sit, covered. Once it absorbed most of the beer, I threw a smidge more in there. Once it was totally absorbed, I added some fresh pepper (after a comedic interlude with peppercorns and my food processor, which I do NOT recommend doing) and finished off with my Iron Chef butter and some parsley. Then I sliced the last of the fresh mozz and put it in the pan for a super quick fry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I suppose I should start taking pics of the food. But I'm a lazy uploader, as I've mentioned, and I forget that I have a camera as well. I've commissioned husband to be official photographer due to my shortcomings. Maybe that'll make this shit hella less wordy and have actual pics. We'll see how that all works out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In closing, props to me for 2 blog posts in a row, and cook with beer, it's actually good. If you know me, you know that's a bold statement because I hate beer. No, don't even try to talk me out of it...I've tried to like beer for the past ten years, it just doesn't work with my palate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What should I experiment with next?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4002502353709640827-1444669852346810827?l=hazardasamom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/feeds/1444669852346810827/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4002502353709640827&amp;postID=1444669852346810827' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/1444669852346810827'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/1444669852346810827'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/2008/06/cooking-with-beer-and-more-iron.html' title='Cooking with beer and more Iron Cheffery'/><author><name>jes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02751130217025208911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4002502353709640827.post-2746221824717505392</id><published>2008-06-29T18:37:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-29T19:34:25.320-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='euro cup'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='iron chef brooklyn'/><title type='text'>Iron Chef Brooklyn</title><content type='html'>Yah, so I've been Slackass McGee lately. My bad. I'll get better again, I promise. Here are my excuses:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was doing inventory.&lt;br /&gt;I was tired.&lt;br /&gt;I got sick.&lt;br /&gt;I was planning things.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LIKE IRON CHEF BROOKLYN!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeay it was so fun! Our secret ingredient was heirloom tomatoes. Mary, Susan (my Iron Chef co-hosts) Gerald, Midget and I hit the greenmarket yesterday morning in search of maters. We did a full lap and there were none. Zip. Zero. This was a problem. But we bought some other lovely things. I visited my farmer crush Keith, author of &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;It's a Long Road to a Tomato&lt;/span&gt;. I'm still too scared to talk to him, but from him I purchased some really fragrant basil, some garlic scapes, spring garlic, and Italian parsley. Then, visiting other booths, I bought some corn shoots  to snack on during our walk (if you've never had them, you totally need to because they're truly fantastic), some delicious wild cherries, and sunflower millet from Our Daily Bread. Still, no heirlooms. We hit Whole Foods across the street. Nope. Went back to the greenmarket and bought some regular tomatoes and vowed we would all lie and swear that we used heirloom tomatoes. Whattayagonnado?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As our cheftestants started arriving with food and booze, a truly wonderful spread was growing on our table. Without a hint of shyness, everyone dove in. There was much eating, and finger sucking, eye rolling ecstasy, recipe sharing and drinking to be had. It was food nirvana. Oh, and Chairman Mikey bit the pepper. What's Iron Chef without pepper biting??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's the full menu:&lt;br /&gt;Marie: Seafood dip (crab, shrimp, tomato sauce, and 4 cheeses) served w a baguette&lt;br /&gt;Tim: Gazpacho! (we added the exclamation point to make sure it was said with feeling)&lt;br /&gt;Janine: Tomato quiche with peppers and pecorino romano&lt;br /&gt;Joey: Pasta with tomatoes, black olives and mozzarella&lt;br /&gt;Deanna: Pasta with tomatoes, onions, peppers, pine nuts, arugula and gorgonzola cheese&lt;br /&gt;Mary: Crostini with tomatoes, bacon and mustard Guinness sauce (a vegetarian version too!)&lt;br /&gt;Susan: Fried green tomatoes with chipotle mayonnaise and tomato salsa&lt;br /&gt;Tony: Tomato tart with creme fraishe, potatoes, and gruyere&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What did I make, you ask? Well! I made a quinoa croquette topped with roasted fennel and marinated tomatoes and fresh mozzarella. They was good. Real good. But then again, so was everything else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The winner? Susan, with her fried green tomatoes!!!! She deserved the win. They were motherfucking awesome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think we're all hungover today. There were several wine runs. The plan was to go to the Unfancy Food Show today, however, mama didn't get out of bed until 1 pm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As an excellent plan B, we spent most of the day in bed, eating leftovers, reading and watching the Euro Cup final. QUE VIIIIIVA ESPANAAAAAA! I called my dad and he was stoked. I texted Bert and so was he. I wish I would have watched more than 3 games than I did, but in good news, the Euro Cup being over means....two years until World Cup! I will consider taking the summer off just to watch it. No, I'm not kidding. I did that the summer of 98. My dad was recovering from having a tumor removed, and I had just moved back from Tampa and was unemployed. We spent all of June and some of July watching almost every WC game. It was great. Even better for me that I was stoned the whole time, even tho my dad didn't know. Ahhh, youth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow, my darling husband and I are going to see the actual taping of Iron Chef America at Chelsea Market! Hooray!!!!!!!! It's full circle Iron Chef all up in this bitch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhoo. Pics soon. More consistent blogging too. Also, commenting is highly encouraged. :D It gets exciting.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4002502353709640827-2746221824717505392?l=hazardasamom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/feeds/2746221824717505392/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4002502353709640827&amp;postID=2746221824717505392' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/2746221824717505392'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/2746221824717505392'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/2008/06/iron-chef-brooklyn.html' title='Iron Chef Brooklyn'/><author><name>jes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02751130217025208911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4002502353709640827.post-8585608379748304133</id><published>2008-06-11T23:14:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-11T23:19:47.687-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='top chef'/><title type='text'>Not to be a spoiler, but...</title><content type='html'>Omg, on the for real tip, I was going to lose my shit. Bex and I were gchating back and forth. I was drinking. She was not. We were both BUGGIN! (no ', cos who has proper punctuation when yr being ghetto, I mean really?) I thought my heart was going to jump out of my chest. But thankfully, the Gorgon is dead....however....she almost lived. Can't wait for the reunion show next week!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, full confession, I totally have a new chef crush. I'm so glad my darling husband understands that I mean this in the strictest of culinary terms. Happy new baby, Richard! She's gorge!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow: me and Bex. Reunited. I smell trouble.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh. And. Um. I killed the bottle. Oops.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;p.s. Midgie pics are coming soon! Hooray!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4002502353709640827-8585608379748304133?l=hazardasamom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/feeds/8585608379748304133/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4002502353709640827&amp;postID=8585608379748304133' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/8585608379748304133'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/8585608379748304133'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/2008/06/not-to-be-spoiler-but.html' title='Not to be a spoiler, but...'/><author><name>jes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02751130217025208911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4002502353709640827.post-8584826862784672886</id><published>2008-06-11T21:27:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-11T22:00:38.726-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='top chef finale'/><title type='text'>This is the end.</title><content type='html'>Not of the blog, betches! Top Chef ends tonight. I'm kinda super bummed about it, but I need to see the Gorgon die! Die, betch DIE! And I need to see Richard win. Win, Richard, WIN! If Stefanie wins, that's okay, I won't mind too much....although, Richard is a new dad and needs the cash and is kinda far superior.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhoo, sorry haven't been a super blogging lady lately. Work has been intense (inventory prep) and I've been trying to spend as much time as possible with Midgetation. Midgie update: he can grab the crib edge and pull himself to his knees (we've since dropped the mattress) and if we stand him up, he can hold on to his crib and stay standing with no hands from mom or dad! Also, I think he's going to start crawling any day now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quick food update:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-The other night, Ms Mary came over and I made: roasted baby garlic w seitan in a mustard sauce, sauteed baby bellos, sliced breakfast radishes, pea shoots in lettuce wraps. For dessert? Peppery naan with Argentine dulce de leche. International, bbs!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-I've mastered the art of hummus. Okay, you may consider it a bean dip and not hummus since I don't put tahini in it (cos, c'mon, tahini is not the most yum thing, admit it), however my bean dip/hummus/orgasm as a paste is the effing jam. This time I made my own garbanzos from scratch (not Rancho Gordo cos they haven't harvested theirs yet, ((also, I have a new RG order on the way...hooray Vaquero beans!)) but still good nonetheless).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Um, ok I gotta go...Top Chef just started...will blog when it's done! Promise! Well, maybe, depends on how the prosecco hits me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GO RICHARD!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4002502353709640827-8584826862784672886?l=hazardasamom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/feeds/8584826862784672886/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4002502353709640827&amp;postID=8584826862784672886' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/8584826862784672886'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/8584826862784672886'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/2008/06/this-is-end.html' title='This is the end.'/><author><name>jes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02751130217025208911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4002502353709640827.post-1862682728256435255</id><published>2008-06-03T21:18:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-03T21:38:36.449-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='challenge'/><title type='text'>The Great Hazard Challenge</title><content type='html'>Alright, so I'm kinda in the swing of things again with balance of work and life. (Going to sleep at 9.30 pm lastnight was a very good decision. Kudos to me.) I was able to work all day, have Midgie play and feed time, cook dinner, and have a little me time whilst hubby runs to grab a bottle of prosecco. Did I mention what I made for dinner? Spring garlic and faux chicken sauteed in a little rice vinegar w sliced fennel and cucumbers in a dijon vinaigrette. It was delish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, so now that Hazard has her groove back it's time for a few challenges.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Challenge #1: Get yr lazy ass back into the gym. I've been so bad. Every day I make an excuse, however, TOMORROW I AM GOING. If I don't go tomorrow, I'm not allowed to have a glass of wine when I come home. I was doing so good, you don't even know...I was there 3 times a week! I was a cardio and pilates machine! My arms are the most perfect (without truly being perfect) that they've ever been and I am a whole lot less of a jiggle. I get dirty looks when I tell ppl I just had a kid THIS YEAR. So, back to the gym we go!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Challenge #2: Stop eating processed food. No, for serious. I know I talk a lot of paranoid schmack due to my readings, but....it's really so awful. So unless it naturally exists in nature, I aren't eating it. No more faux chicken. But seitan is okay. Seitan's gotta be okay. I hope seitan's okay. Okay, I'm not quite sure about it, but we'll say yes for now. Regardless, if it needs to be processed by an excess of chemicals or acids...my body will not compute it. And, I'm only eating corn if it's in kernels off a cob. No high fructose corn syrup, or dextrose, or fructose or glucose, or any other derivative! For your information, wine is okay because it's processed without chemicals. It's fine. Really. Shut up, I'm drinking it anyways.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sure those challenges will be in full effect and mastered by the end of the month. So I'll need new challenges. I challenge to challenge myself monthly. I am open to suggestion. Handle that, would you? Thx.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4002502353709640827-1862682728256435255?l=hazardasamom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/feeds/1862682728256435255/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4002502353709640827&amp;postID=1862682728256435255' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/1862682728256435255'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/1862682728256435255'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/2008/06/great-hazard-challenge.html' title='The Great Hazard Challenge'/><author><name>jes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02751130217025208911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4002502353709640827.post-4101039673085058888</id><published>2008-06-02T18:27:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-02T19:14:07.701-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mommy guilt'/><title type='text'>Guilty</title><content type='html'>I must say, as much as I love my new job, I do hate that I'm away from Auden so much. Last Tuesday, I was away from him for 12 hours. That's the longest I've ever been away from him. It was heartbreaking. As much as my old job sucked, I at least got to hang out with the Midge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I must commend my husband. He's Mr. Mom right now. He works all day AND takes care of Midgie, sometimes even having to go to DJ right afterwards. And he never complains. I've been up since 5:30 this morning, when I made his bottle, was at work by 7 am, and didn't come home till 5 pm. I took over Midgie duties as soon as I got home. Poor thing is teething...I see 2 more on the way. I have to cook dinner. I have to mop. I have to go pick up the laundry. But all I want to do is sit on the couch. Husband  is still working.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't feel like being local and I'm completely unsustainable at this point. I want pizza. Ok, McDonald's, I understand why you exist.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm a bad, bad mommy. No, I'm not gonna give in. But I can daydream about it, ok? It's allowed. It's in the rules.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4002502353709640827-4101039673085058888?l=hazardasamom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/feeds/4101039673085058888/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4002502353709640827&amp;postID=4101039673085058888' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/4101039673085058888'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/4101039673085058888'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/2008/06/guilty.html' title='Guilty'/><author><name>jes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02751130217025208911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4002502353709640827.post-8320555195036115822</id><published>2008-06-01T11:16:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-01T19:44:00.749-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='food crisis'/><title type='text'>local? organic? sustainable? huh?</title><content type='html'>I've been reading too many books about food lately. And magazines. And blogs. I'm food obsessed, for sure. But the more I read, the more paranoid I get. I've mentioned my concern for the plight of the dairy farmer after reading &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;It's a Long Road to a Tomato&lt;/span&gt;. Now I'm reading &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The Omnivore's Dilemma&lt;/span&gt; and I'm angry at corn. High fructose corn syrup is the secret devil and the government is conspiring to fatten us with surplus hybrid demon corn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As much as possible, I want to eat as locally and organically as possible. Unfortunately, I don't have a limitless income, nor can I devote a full day just for food shopping, due to the fact that I already have a full time job, and am a full time mommy too. Also, I have a life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's my attempt at local sustainability:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday, we had lattes from Crest Cafe, the new coffee joint near our house, which exclusively sells a Williamsburg coffee brand. I have to research and see if the coffee is farmed by 12 y/o Mexicans or if it's Fair Trade. Then, we went to Urban Rustic to buy Saratoga sparkling water for our trip to the McCarren Greenmarket. Saratoga is in the state...kinda local. At the Greenmarket, purchased spring garlic, leeks and gorgeous radishes. (Apparently, ramp season is over. GAH!) I noticed that Ronnybrook farms was there, and I felt guilty that my Fresh Direct delivery that morning included my Organic Valley milk that's from Wisconsin. Note to self: stop buying Fresh Direct milk and support the local dairy farmer, his distress made you sad, remember, fool? Then, I got really inspired and decided we should go to Marlow and Sons, cos I heard they have Rancho Gordo beans there and I'm out of damn flageolets. (Do I sound like a jackass yet? It seems as though I do, but I digress.) Marlow and Sons market is WAY smaller than I had previously anticipated, and while, they do have some really great finds there, and they do have RG beans...they were out of flageolet. Bastards. We bought some ciabatta, then it started raining and we headed home. As a snack, we ate a platter of radishes with some parsley garlic butter I had just made and the ciabatta. Effing awesome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While I was home, I realized that I had purchased $150 of crap from FD (granted, this includes baby formula, baby cereal, baby food and diapers), $20 of assorted goods from Greenmarket and M&amp;amp;S, and I barely had enough to make dinner. So, off to Sunac I went to buy some non local peppers (there were none at the GM) and non local but organic bananas. I got inspired again, and decided we should visit the fish monger because Gerald has been craving oysters for like a year, and it's time he had some. So we bought some semi local oysters. At $8 for a dozen and $2 for shucking, Gerald almost peed his pants with joy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, what did I have for dinner? I roasted some non local peppers, mushrooms and garlic and cooked some frozen gnocchi that's probably from another planet and secretly has the government surplus demon corn somehow someway in it. It was super delicious, but my attempt to eat local/organic/sustainable got fucked along the way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's always next week. Sigh.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4002502353709640827-8320555195036115822?l=hazardasamom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/feeds/8320555195036115822/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4002502353709640827&amp;postID=8320555195036115822' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/8320555195036115822'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/8320555195036115822'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/2008/06/local-organic-sustainable-huh.html' title='local? organic? sustainable? huh?'/><author><name>jes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02751130217025208911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4002502353709640827.post-8800014758552980550</id><published>2008-05-26T16:45:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-26T18:08:56.595-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the brooklyn kitchen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='kitchen wishlist'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rancho gordo'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='new job'/><title type='text'>an tici      pation</title><content type='html'>So, right now, I'm kinda feeling like that Sunday before the first day of school. You know what yr going to wear. You have yr new Trapper Keeper. You have assorted pens and pencils. A plethora of lined school paper. You vow that this year, yr gonna be organized, and it's going to be different and yr actually gonna do all yr homework and work ahead on yr papers that are due 3 months later and not procrastinate like you have every other time. There's that feeling that anything can happen. Are you still going to be a dork this year? Will so and so notice?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay. So maybe it's not exactly that. I'm just starting a new job. A new fabulous job. And I'm not quite sure what I'm going to wear, but I've got a good idea. I do know what make up I'll be wearing. (For Bex: the brown Chanel eyeliner, the MAC Patina, Mascara, foundation, powder, blush and that peach Clinique gloss you gave me...I know that's yr fave on me.) But, I do have that little butterfly in my stomach flittering...wondering if they'll like me...if they'll reaaaally like me. I am not going to have coffee because I'll get too hyper and frighten them all off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news, I'm making TWO, count em TWO, different beans at the mo. I'm making a chili with my Rancho Gordo Scarlett Runner beans. They're simmering in half of a Spanish onion, about 37 cloves of garlic, a green pepper and some cumin and crushed red peppers. The Rancho Gordo Flageolet's are simmering in Spanish onion and garlic. I'm going to make a salad with some fennel, parsley, mixed greens, cukes and some feta for tonight. The chili is for tomorrow. I was smart this time and started soaking the beans last night, so hopefully this shit isn't going to take ten years. I'm also experimenting with the Flageolets and hoping that my onion and garlic mire poix is sufficient compared to the shallot, celery, carrot and garlic one I'd made before. Don't get me wrong, they tasted fantastic...but there was something not quite perfect. Someone commented about cooking beans in a pressure cooker in like 30 minutes. I'm effing jealous. I want one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's the new kitchen wishlist:&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;a href="https://www.thebrooklynkitchen.com/xlsws_php/?c=web1.48&amp;amp;product=L2501-2667"&gt;Le Creuset&lt;/a&gt; cookware&lt;br /&gt;-a new &lt;a href="https://www.thebrooklynkitchen.com/xlsws_php/?c=web2.180&amp;amp;product=06801"&gt;stovetop espresso maker&lt;/a&gt; (Darling Husband killed the last one.)&lt;br /&gt;-a &lt;a href="https://www.thebrooklynkitchen.com/xlsws_php/?c=web3.90&amp;amp;product=95581"&gt;whisk&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;a href="https://www.thebrooklynkitchen.com/xlsws_php/?c=web2.102&amp;amp;product=7325"&gt;prep bowls&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-a &lt;a href="http://cgi.ebay.com/Peugeot-FRANCE-Chateauneuf-Pepper-Mill-Grinder-9-5_W0QQitemZ120264866179QQihZ002QQcategoryZ134725QQrdZ1QQssPageNameZWD1VQQcmdZViewItemQQ_trksidZp1638Q2em118Q2el1247"&gt;Peugeot pepper grinder&lt;/a&gt; in the piano finish (shut up, it's effing beautiful)&lt;br /&gt;-a &lt;a href="http://www.deandeluca.com/new-and-seasonal/wedding/dean-and-deluca-spice-rack.aspx"&gt;test tube spice set&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Note to husband: almost all of these items are available at the Brooklyn Kitchen, as you might have noticed, because I LINKED THEM. You know, that place that's one block away from our house that I love? Just so you don't ever say, "I didn't know what to get you" ever again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anywho, wish me a good first day of work tomorrow. I hate being the new kid. (The one that's too old to be a kid anymore.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4002502353709640827-8800014758552980550?l=hazardasamom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/feeds/8800014758552980550/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4002502353709640827&amp;postID=8800014758552980550' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/8800014758552980550'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/8800014758552980550'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/2008/05/tici-pation.html' title='an tici      pation'/><author><name>jes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02751130217025208911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4002502353709640827.post-112337891596628315</id><published>2008-05-19T19:24:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-19T19:31:34.092-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='soul purge'/><title type='text'>Get yrself together...get yrself together..shake shake shake</title><content type='html'>Four days until the shit job is over.&lt;br /&gt;Then reorganize house.&lt;br /&gt;Clean the bajesus out of it.&lt;br /&gt;Laundry.&lt;br /&gt;Get behind the furniture.&lt;br /&gt;PURGE!&lt;br /&gt;Clean out the fridge.&lt;br /&gt;Toss some old spices. (nyuk, nyuk, nyuk)&lt;br /&gt;Backstock Auden's clothes sizes 0-9 months.&lt;br /&gt;Outstock Auden's clothes 9 months +&lt;br /&gt;Throw away boxes.&lt;br /&gt;Recycle papers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It will be so wonderful to no longer see work at home.&lt;br /&gt;I will no longer be a slave to my work email.&lt;br /&gt;(Shut up, I know I'm forever a slave to my gmail. And what? So are you.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Refocus. Re-energize. Revive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy 7 month Birthday, Auden Brown. xoxo, Mom&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4002502353709640827-112337891596628315?l=hazardasamom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/feeds/112337891596628315/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4002502353709640827&amp;postID=112337891596628315' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/112337891596628315'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/112337891596628315'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/2008/05/get-yrself-togetherget-yrself.html' title='Get yrself together...get yrself together..shake shake shake'/><author><name>jes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02751130217025208911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4002502353709640827.post-8788307184324776762</id><published>2008-05-18T18:38:00.007-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-18T19:38:30.174-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='aids walk ny 2008'/><title type='text'>For Chipiti and Jeff</title><content type='html'>We walked in memory of my uncle Chipiti and Gerald's great friend Jeff. Last Sunday, Chipiti would have been 52.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are no words.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LP-_Up20yEA/SDC9ukHU_wI/AAAAAAAAABw/Xw4eRjSVapQ/s1600-h/DSC01360.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LP-_Up20yEA/SDC9ukHU_wI/AAAAAAAAABw/Xw4eRjSVapQ/s320/DSC01360.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201866177278967554" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LP-_Up20yEA/SDC9vEHU_xI/AAAAAAAAAB4/ZyN11LowJ_k/s1600-h/DSC01361.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LP-_Up20yEA/SDC9vEHU_xI/AAAAAAAAAB4/ZyN11LowJ_k/s320/DSC01361.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201866185868902162" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LP-_Up20yEA/SDC8WEHU_vI/AAAAAAAAABo/vVXyovWDzKI/s1600-h/DSC01373.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LP-_Up20yEA/SDC8WEHU_vI/AAAAAAAAABo/vVXyovWDzKI/s320/DSC01373.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201864656860544754" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LP-_Up20yEA/SDC730HU_qI/AAAAAAAAABA/X__sXK14n3A/s1600-h/DSC01358.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_LP-_Up20yEA/SDC730HU_qI/AAAAAAAAABA/X__sXK14n3A/s320/DSC01358.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201864137169501858" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LP-_Up20yEA/SDC74UHU_rI/AAAAAAAAABI/MxMQWg9y8q8/s1600-h/DSC01342.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LP-_Up20yEA/SDC74UHU_rI/AAAAAAAAABI/MxMQWg9y8q8/s320/DSC01342.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201864145759436466" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LP-_Up20yEA/SDC74kHU_sI/AAAAAAAAABQ/eJ3UjNxMIDc/s1600-h/DSC01367.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LP-_Up20yEA/SDC74kHU_sI/AAAAAAAAABQ/eJ3UjNxMIDc/s320/DSC01367.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201864150054403778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LP-_Up20yEA/SDC75EHU_tI/AAAAAAAAABY/hyCDrZLc0Tk/s1600-h/DSC01371.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LP-_Up20yEA/SDC75EHU_tI/AAAAAAAAABY/hyCDrZLc0Tk/s320/DSC01371.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201864158644338386" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LP-_Up20yEA/SDC75UHU_uI/AAAAAAAAABg/kqshrjzirW4/s1600-h/DSC01372.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LP-_Up20yEA/SDC75UHU_uI/AAAAAAAAABg/kqshrjzirW4/s320/DSC01372.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201864162939305698" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LP-_Up20yEA/SDC6iEHU_lI/AAAAAAAAAAY/OmRaK6aEqlY/s1600-h/DSC01343.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LP-_Up20yEA/SDC6iEHU_lI/AAAAAAAAAAY/OmRaK6aEqlY/s320/DSC01343.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201862663995719250" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LP-_Up20yEA/SDC6iUHU_mI/AAAAAAAAAAg/PpPXAtHl790/s1600-h/DSC01344.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LP-_Up20yEA/SDC6iUHU_mI/AAAAAAAAAAg/PpPXAtHl790/s320/DSC01344.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201862668290686562" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LP-_Up20yEA/SDC6jEHU_nI/AAAAAAAAAAo/DEjyw8LUjYE/s1600-h/DSC01345.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LP-_Up20yEA/SDC6jEHU_nI/AAAAAAAAAAo/DEjyw8LUjYE/s320/DSC01345.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201862681175588466" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LP-_Up20yEA/SDC6kEHU_pI/AAAAAAAAAA4/vGIwX8saBEc/s1600-h/DSC01355.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LP-_Up20yEA/SDC6kEHU_pI/AAAAAAAAAA4/vGIwX8saBEc/s320/DSC01355.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201862698355457682" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LP-_Up20yEA/SDC6jUHU_oI/AAAAAAAAAAw/QI0GC2eyFYg/s1600-h/DSC01351.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LP-_Up20yEA/SDC6jUHU_oI/AAAAAAAAAAw/QI0GC2eyFYg/s320/DSC01351.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201862685470555778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4002502353709640827-8788307184324776762?l=hazardasamom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/feeds/8788307184324776762/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4002502353709640827&amp;postID=8788307184324776762' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/8788307184324776762'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/8788307184324776762'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/2008/05/for-chipiti-and-jeff.html' title='For Chipiti and Jeff'/><author><name>jes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02751130217025208911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_LP-_Up20yEA/SDC9ukHU_wI/AAAAAAAAABw/Xw4eRjSVapQ/s72-c/DSC01360.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4002502353709640827.post-973523703124634691</id><published>2008-05-16T16:20:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-16T16:48:50.171-04:00</updated><title type='text'>What's yr glitch?</title><content type='html'>I've been reading all these blogs that have a purpose. Some sort of angle. Food blogs tend to have the best angles. Like &lt;a href="http://www.gourmetproject.ca/"&gt;Gourmet Project&lt;/a&gt;: some guy decided to cook every single recipe in the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Gourmet&lt;/span&gt; cookbook (and he discovered other ppl doing the same). Or, &lt;a href="http://noteatingoutinny.com/"&gt;Not Eating Out in New York&lt;/a&gt;: a fellow Brooklynite who now refuses to eat in restaurants in NYC. The &lt;a href="http://greenmarketreport.wordpress.com/"&gt;Greenmarket Report&lt;/a&gt; is great (I got 3 bunches of ramps today! And focaccia from Bread Alone. MMMMM). &lt;a href="http://www.lastnightsdinner.net/"&gt;Last Night's Dinner&lt;/a&gt; is an inspiration.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I, however, am sans angle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I talk about food, and wine, and Auden, and music (did I mention we have My Bloody Valentine tix?? :D :D) and Brooklyn, and sometimes I pontificate on the meaning of life. But, I lack focus. I lack a solid direction. Do I need one? Can I skimp by as just some random chick who talks about random crap? No one necessarily reads this, and in a way, I'm just taking up space in the interwebbed world. Maybe the focus needs to begin within, and then it will filter down to ze blog. Ooo. Deep.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4002502353709640827-973523703124634691?l=hazardasamom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/feeds/973523703124634691/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4002502353709640827&amp;postID=973523703124634691' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/973523703124634691'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/973523703124634691'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/2008/05/whats-yr-glitch.html' title='What&apos;s yr glitch?'/><author><name>jes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02751130217025208911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4002502353709640827.post-3774945606311096306</id><published>2008-05-14T08:41:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-14T08:45:01.889-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='super awesome jobby'/><title type='text'>Mama got the brand new bag!!!</title><content type='html'>I got the yob, I got the yob!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I quit my piece of shit yob yesterday. I start new yob on the 27th. I have all of Memorial Weekend to celebrate! Hurrah!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Relationship. Apartment. Job. I have the perfect NY life....eat it, Carrie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Upcoming:&lt;br /&gt;Croquet Picnic&lt;br /&gt;Sailboat around Manhattan&lt;br /&gt;Kayaking&lt;br /&gt;Trapeze&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Act now, spaces are limited. Oh, this is truly going to be a very good summer. :D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4002502353709640827-3774945606311096306?l=hazardasamom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/feeds/3774945606311096306/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4002502353709640827&amp;postID=3774945606311096306' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/3774945606311096306'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/3774945606311096306'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/2008/05/mama-got-brand-new-bag.html' title='Mama got the brand new bag!!!'/><author><name>jes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02751130217025208911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4002502353709640827.post-6260218946569811497</id><published>2008-05-11T22:31:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-11T22:57:35.741-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mother&apos;s day'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ramps'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dressler'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='wine'/><title type='text'>A holiday of my very own!</title><content type='html'>So, being a mom on Mother's Day is pretty freaking weird. Like, I know I'm a mom. I get it. I have a drooling, teething, poop machine of my very own. But being called a mom..and recognized as one...that's something for like...my mom. Not me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Regardless, I have to say it was a good day. Yes, I'm recycling NWA lyrics. Again. Moving on, I did have a moment today when Auden was in his walker and I looked down and he was smiling his 2 toothed smile and holding a card that said "Mom" on it. I opened the card and there was a whole bunch of scribble scrabble in it (along with some really lovely sweetness from my husband). But the scribble scrabble was the best. My son held a pen and created something for me. *Mind blowing!*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then we got all gussied up and went to brunch at Dressler. I was all bummed at first because there is a serious lack of variety on the menu. The brunch menu at Dumont is hella more diverse. HOWEVER, holy motherfucking crap balls...BEST omelet I've ever had (the ham, spinach and fontina sans ham) and of course, when in Dressler, one must have the hazelnut semifreddo. If you have never had the hazelnut semifreddo, if you don't know what I'm talking about, stop what you are doing, put some shoes on and fucking go to Dressler right now. I don't care that you have eye boogers or are at work slacking, get off yr ass and go. It's ridiculous. Creamy hazelnut ice cream...and when I say creamy, I mean creaaaaamyyyy...fudgey gelato, toasted sugary hazelnuts and some sort of hazelnutty crisp situation on the top. It causes panty soup. It has been dubbed "the best dessert I've ever had" by the Hammill clan, including my brother in law.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of sex on a plate, last night I made ramps. I kept reading and reading about these little fuckers on every blog and it's mother, so when Bex and I had our Greenmarket date yesterday morning, I bought 2 bunches. It took like 8 years to prep them, but I just cooked them in some olive oil and garlic, white tips first, then the leaves, then threw some gnocchi in there. Holy bajesus, batman. Bex and Jake came over while I was cooking with 2 bottles of wine, and they got a little taste test sensation, and they concurred: sex on a plate. They also brought over one of the most delicious wines I've ever had. We, unfortunately, had purchased the Sofia Coppolla Rose. It wasn't awful. It was just...there. Note to self: Coppollas make good movies, not good wine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news, I am currently waiting for a call back. I won't go into it any further, but if you pray, meditate, or sacrifice small animals to a jungle deity, could you throw a little hope and blood my way? Preciate it, thanks.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4002502353709640827-6260218946569811497?l=hazardasamom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/feeds/6260218946569811497/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4002502353709640827&amp;postID=6260218946569811497' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/6260218946569811497'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/6260218946569811497'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/2008/05/holiday-of-my-very-own.html' title='A holiday of my very own!'/><author><name>jes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02751130217025208911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4002502353709640827.post-1960420536735428427</id><published>2008-05-06T21:35:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-06T21:42:58.259-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='charity'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='happy hour'/><title type='text'>Doing good things</title><content type='html'>Right now, I'm super excited. Gerald, Auden and I are participating in AIDS Walk NY this May 18th. I had given our team a goal of $1000 to raise....as of this evening, we are only $40 away from that goal! We've done better than I could imagine. So many thanks to everyone who has contributed, we really appreciate it so much!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thursday night, I'm volunteering with Janine for a cancer gala.&lt;br /&gt;At the end of the month, I might be volunteering for another event with NYU.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All this goody two shoesing of me is making me want to be a little bad. Just a little. Teensy. A smidge. Like, knocking over a slow tourist with a stroller kind of bad. Or giving a douche with a bad hair cut the wrong directions just because his hair is offensive to my eyes. Or living up to the Williamsburg stereotype whilst walking down Bedford Avenue and someone looks in my general direction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That, and I deserve a martini. Friday night, betches! Hazard hits Happy Hour! I know, that sounds like an alliterative porno.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4002502353709640827-1960420536735428427?l=hazardasamom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/feeds/1960420536735428427/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4002502353709640827&amp;postID=1960420536735428427' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/1960420536735428427'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/1960420536735428427'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/2008/05/doing-good-things.html' title='Doing good things'/><author><name>jes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02751130217025208911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4002502353709640827.post-1840597804572173136</id><published>2008-05-04T17:19:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-04T17:35:26.646-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parklife'/><title type='text'>Parklife</title><content type='html'>I love spring in Brooklyn. Don't get me wrong, I love fall and winter and summer in BK too, but spring...there's something about it. Everything feels right in the world. There's hope. People look alive. Little things are growing here and there. And everyone goes to the park.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Growing up in Miami, there was no such thing as: "Hey, let's go to the park!" When it's 96 degrees for 10 months out of the year, the only thing that everyone can agree on is air conditioning and shade. Moving up here, the park is such an important part of people's lives, including mine. There's something about having a picnic, drinking some mimosas, playing croquet, and laughing at hipster kickball that just makes life perfect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the past couple of weeks, I've had a few spontaneous picnics. Today, Auden was asleep in his stroller, while Deanna and I stole his blanket and ate Mast Brothers chocolate and sipped iced coffees from Oslo. (The white chocolate w roasted pistachios and almonds and dried cranberries that is mother effing orgasmic. I know I've discussed this before. It bears repeating.) Something funky and squishy landed on  my jeans, but I survived. There was plenty of pastiness and other unfortunate things walking around. Scrawny, scabby legs in too short shorts and ridiculous ironic boots. A rainbow of Wayfarers. Coke scabby noses. I loved it all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is spring in Brooklyn. It's time for croquet, betches!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4002502353709640827-1840597804572173136?l=hazardasamom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/feeds/1840597804572173136/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4002502353709640827&amp;postID=1840597804572173136' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/1840597804572173136'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/1840597804572173136'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/2008/05/parklife.html' title='Parklife'/><author><name>jes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02751130217025208911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4002502353709640827.post-4283014912518156139</id><published>2008-05-02T22:08:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-02T22:17:18.911-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ho hum'/><title type='text'>Friday, I'm in love.</title><content type='html'>Went to Word. Bought a book. Had a latte. Chatted with friendly Mexicans. Talked to school advisor. Played with midget. Made dinner. Bathed and put midgie to bed. Snuggles. What Not To Wear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Prosecco.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;G is djing again. Poor thing works so hard. He needs a vacation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Really wish I would get called in for an interview.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Networking, networking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My friends are wonderful. I finally have my perfect friend base in NYC.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If only I got a new job...my life would be perfect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Babysteps.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4002502353709640827-4283014912518156139?l=hazardasamom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/feeds/4283014912518156139/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4002502353709640827&amp;postID=4283014912518156139' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/4283014912518156139'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/4283014912518156139'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/2008/05/friday-im-in-love.html' title='Friday, I&apos;m in love.'/><author><name>jes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02751130217025208911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4002502353709640827.post-7045766405848004876</id><published>2008-05-01T22:38:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-01T22:49:04.022-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='baxter'/><title type='text'>Happy Birthday, Baxter</title><content type='html'>Today is Baxter's birthday. He's 11 years old. Happy Birthday! Even my mom called today to wish her first black grandson a happy day. She even sang to him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Baxter is my cat. I got him when I lived in Tampa. He's been with me for 3 cities, 7 apartments and countless bad situations. He's always been my buddy. Well, he *was* my buddy until Gerald moved in. Bax is now his cat. And since I got pregnant, he's pretty much hated me. He attacks me, bites my ankles, bites my back fat when I'm sitting in a chair, chair dives onto me, ambushes my feet while walking and assorted other annoyances.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Luckily, Bax loves Auden. He lets Auden grab his tail, and pet him hard and pull his whiskers. He doesn't complain, or try to bite, or anything. In fact, he's quite chivalrous about it...I think he understands that Auden's only a baby and doesn't know any better. Also, Bax is a big gay cat and likes males. If Auden was a girl, the story may have been different.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Over the years, Bax has acquired his fair share of nicknames:&lt;br /&gt;Bastard&lt;br /&gt;DrastiCat (because all of his moves were so drastic)&lt;br /&gt;Snackster&lt;br /&gt;Fatster&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To me, he's just Bax. Big, fat, black, and gnarly. Happy Birthday, sweetie, may you have 11 more.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4002502353709640827-7045766405848004876?l=hazardasamom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/feeds/7045766405848004876/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4002502353709640827&amp;postID=7045766405848004876' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/7045766405848004876'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/7045766405848004876'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/2008/05/happy-birthday-baxter.html' title='Happy Birthday, Baxter'/><author><name>jes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02751130217025208911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4002502353709640827.post-4092756219486265989</id><published>2008-04-30T22:32:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-30T23:22:38.243-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='reality tv'/><title type='text'>My name is Jessica, and I'm a reality cooking show addict.</title><content type='html'>It's true. I won't lie. Here's my agenda:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mondays 10 pm: No Reservations w Anthony Bourdain. *chef crush* and Bizarre Foods.&lt;br /&gt;Tuesdays 9 pm: Hell's Kitchen w Gordon Ramsay. *chef crush*&lt;br /&gt;Wednesday 10 pm: Top Chef. No chef crush, but Richard or Antonia need to win. Go Blaise!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If those aren't on, and I'm not watching Law and Order (preferably CI), CSI, or Murder, She Wrote, I'm watching Food Network.&lt;br /&gt;Iron Chef? Love it.&lt;br /&gt;Ace of Cakes? Hell yes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't get me started on Rachael Ray or Sandra Lee. Let's just NOT go there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love watching food being cooked. I love learning about new vegetables. I like getting new inspirations. But mostly, I like to see really effing gross things that I would never eat in a million years being eaten by other people and watch them gross out and wanna puke. Bourdain and Zimmern from Bizarre Foods are the heros of eating weird shit. Is that bad of me? I like seeing people eat awful food and not enjoy it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now that I'm not out at a bar every night, I understand this whole television thing. It's addictive!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One more complaint: why did I suffer through TWO days of American Idol because it was the Neil Diamond edition, only to watch Sweet Caroline be slaughtered by a little gay and the Diamond sang some new song that I could give three fucks about? WHY? Cos baby Jesus hates me today. My mom even called me and was like: I'm sorry they killed your song. It was all terrible. Just terrible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When does Project Runway start?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have problems.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4002502353709640827-4092756219486265989?l=hazardasamom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/feeds/4092756219486265989/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4002502353709640827&amp;postID=4092756219486265989' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/4092756219486265989'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/4092756219486265989'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/2008/04/my-name-is-jessica-and-im-reality.html' title='My name is Jessica, and I&apos;m a reality cooking show addict.'/><author><name>jes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02751130217025208911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4002502353709640827.post-2132128330760313641</id><published>2008-04-29T22:43:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-29T22:53:16.580-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='whining'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='deep thoughts'/><title type='text'>Mama needs a brand new bag.</title><content type='html'>Although every other part of my life is great, the job scene sucks. Have been networking. Event planning? Back to retail? Back to school? If school, what do I study? Foody stuff? Business? Retail planning?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Janine let me borrow a book: &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;It's a Long Road to a Tomato&lt;/span&gt;. I'm five pages into it, and I already want my own farm. Auden B can frolic around the pastures with Baxter, chasing rabbits and picking bugs off the radishes. (Of course it will be organic. Duh.) I can get my hands dirty, using the soil as a natural exfoliator.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I want my own store. Where you can buy stuff. And make stuff. And learn stuff. And learn how to make stuff. And eat a cupcake too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I want to throw parties. Where you can donate yr time and money. And learn stuff. And dance. And eat well. And help someone who needs it more than you do. And have the perfect dirty martini. And everyone will wear funny hats.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I want to be a writer. Where I can say stuff. And you can read it. And you can smile, bemused. Or you can roll yr eyes, annoyed. And I can have a feeling of accomplishment and sense of creativity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Clearly, I'm having a Libra moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, btw...Mighty Diamond = THE JAM. We keep going there and it keeps getting better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm experimenting with a Rose Spumanti. It's dry and wonderful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to church yesterday. On Broadway. It actually made me feel better. After 15 minutes, the girl with the camera was creeping me out, and my boss called, so I dipped.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everything feels so way up in the air...but finally...it's feeling a little less hopeless, just definitely unguided.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Map, anyone?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4002502353709640827-2132128330760313641?l=hazardasamom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/feeds/2132128330760313641/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4002502353709640827&amp;postID=2132128330760313641' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/2132128330760313641'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/2132128330760313641'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/2008/04/mama-needs-brand-new-bag.html' title='Mama needs a brand new bag.'/><author><name>jes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02751130217025208911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4002502353709640827.post-2573219363325480798</id><published>2008-04-27T23:25:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-27T23:45:20.804-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rancho gordo'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='domino'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='BEANS'/><title type='text'>Beans, beans the magical food...</title><content type='html'>So, I was reading this food blog a few weeks ago...one of the many that I subscribe to, since I am a food fag...and got inspired. I had read a Domino article a few months before about Rancho Gordo's heirloom beans, and this bloggy chef had made a warm heirloom bean salad using the Rancho Gordo variety. I had to have them. I ordered the European variety pack, and within days I had RG beans of my very own. Now, ordinarily, beans aren't something that you would call beautiful, or even cute...but these are *gorgeous*. These are seriously some damn sexy beans.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After showing off my beans for a few weeks, and forcing friends to ogle them and swear that they were the most beautiful things they'd ever seen, I decided that perhaps it was time to eat the damn things. Now, I'm all about doing things from scratch, being organic and all that jazzy jazz, but buying a can has always sounded a lot easier and less headachey than DIY beans. Seeing as this was my first foray into this world, I did a little research and went on my merry little way. In between changing midget diapers, and naps, and being run over by a walker, I was soaking and prepping and organizing dinner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've always prided myself on my 30 minute meals (NOT the Rachael effing Ray variety which involve CRAP food and actually listening to that voice of hell), but there is no getting out of doing beans in 30 minutes or less. Soak time: 1 hour. Mire poix prep and cooking: 20 minutes. Cooking beans and mire poix: 2 effing hours almost. Chopping salad and making dressing: 20 minutes. This is a salad, people! I could have made a rack of lamb and mint chutney and maybe some grilled baby veggies in the same amount of time it took me to make this beast. (Not that I would, because carcass is gross, but still, you get my drift.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Auden had had dinner, napped, played, bathed and had his last bottle of the night, and FINALLY my SALAD was complete. We dug in. It was brilliant. Now, I'm my own worst critic. I rip my dishes apart. I sit there and bitch about a lack of salt, or a heavy hand with the sherry vinegar or the truffle oil not being necessary. Although I probably would have added a little more salt, and maybe some grilled garlic cloves to make it super perfect...this salad was the mother effing jam. Gerald declared my beans the best ones he's ever had in his life. He mentioned it several times. He's still talking about it. (Shut up, I have more, I'll make them. Garsh.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In conclusion, buy these beans. They will make you happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll give the gas update tomorrow...so far..so good. X gas free X Pics tomorrow too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;xoxo&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4002502353709640827-2573219363325480798?l=hazardasamom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/feeds/2573219363325480798/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4002502353709640827&amp;postID=2573219363325480798' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/2573219363325480798'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/2573219363325480798'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/2008/04/beans-beans-magical-food.html' title='Beans, beans the magical food...'/><author><name>jes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02751130217025208911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4002502353709640827.post-1636789288660881134</id><published>2008-04-27T10:53:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-27T11:23:16.295-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='desert island'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cava'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Brooklyn'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='artists and fleas'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dumont'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mast brothers'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tapas'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='vinho verde'/><title type='text'>Tapas y Papas</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;You know, yesterday, I have to say it was a good day. I didn't have to use my AK. (Sorry, a small part of my normal vernacular is, well, um, gangsta rap lyrics. You'll live.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First, we had brunch with the Muffinberrys at Dumont. Auden slept for a great portion of it, but since we waited so long to get our food, he woke up right as my food arrived. I ate with one hand and bounced him on my knee. He didn't mind, and neither did I. We all walked around the hood a bit and stopped by Desert Island, a fab comic book shop that just opened. Gerald managed to score some free Garbage Pail Kids cards, including one for me and Jake. Yes, I am Juicy Jessica. I have the card to prove it. Also, we bought Shag from A to Z, because Jake said it was a kid's book, and I love Shag. I didn't read it until we got home from the Tapas party (more on that soon) and it is surely *not* a kid's book. I love it nonetheless. We stopped by Artists and Fleas, talked to the Frenchie and was happy the Mast Brothers didn't have their delicious Wythe and Berry bar, because I would have caved and purchased. Not good for mommy diet. (But, DAMN that shit is good! Highly Recommend.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later was the Spontaneous, Brooklynites Only, Tapas Party. During our walk around the hood, G and I bought some vinho verde (Portuguese green wine, perfect for spring) and some cava for the party. We took a car to Cobble Hill, and I complained about perpetual construction on the BQE. Really, is that shit ever going to end? The party was super fun, and I think we have back up babysitters for life, because everyone loves Auden Brown. He was such a trooper. He hung out, gabbed, stared, drooled, and then went to sleep in his portable bed as the party went on. Don't get me wrong, this was not the rager of our youth, or even of our 2 years ago. Just a really great, adult party full of amazing food, amazing people and amazing conversations. I was happy to be a grown up married mommy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We came home and watched Frasier. Midget pooped.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another fabulous night in Brooklyn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Holla.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4002502353709640827-1636789288660881134?l=hazardasamom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/feeds/1636789288660881134/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4002502353709640827&amp;postID=1636789288660881134' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/1636789288660881134'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/1636789288660881134'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/2008/04/tapas-y-papas.html' title='Tapas y Papas'/><author><name>jes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02751130217025208911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4002502353709640827.post-8296345304978602569</id><published>2008-04-26T00:28:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-26T00:38:42.124-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='csa'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fennel'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='supper club'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='kalena'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='food'/><title type='text'>Hazard as a Chef</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Tonight, my dearest Kalena came over. Oh, how I missed her. She brought some wine. I gushed about Auden. She fell in love with him. How could she not?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seeing as Ms. Thang is a professional nanny to the stars (no really, an Oscar winner even), I put her to work holding on to the midget as I made us dinner. Hubby was fixing rekkids to play out tonight for the young ones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The menu:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pan roasted potatoes with fresh horseradish (grated using my fab microplane)&lt;br /&gt;Tri color grilled peppers with roasted head of garlic&lt;br /&gt;Simple fennel salad with oil and vinegar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In exciting news, I got to use my new pink peppercorns! Ordinarily, I cringe at pink, but I can get over it when it comes to food. Plus, these peppercorns tasted a lot less harsh than the ones I was using before. BLECH!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Regardless, dinner was great, and we ate it all. Especially the fennel salad. Next time, I'm going to get some moltalban cheese and throw in a few big scrapes. Yes, I'm copying the fennel salad from Moto, but not exactly because they use parmesan, and I think my selection would taste superior. Hmpf.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Upcoming joyous food events:&lt;br /&gt;Brunch with the Muffinberrys!&lt;br /&gt;Spontaneous Brooklyn Tapas Party tomorrow!&lt;br /&gt;Finally joining the Williamsburg CSA!&lt;br /&gt;Ted and Amy Supper Club!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hooray for food :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4002502353709640827-8296345304978602569?l=hazardasamom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/feeds/8296345304978602569/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4002502353709640827&amp;postID=8296345304978602569' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/8296345304978602569'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/8296345304978602569'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/2008/04/hazard-as-chef.html' title='Hazard as a Chef'/><author><name>jes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02751130217025208911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4002502353709640827.post-4997883256232303906</id><published>2008-04-25T22:36:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-26T00:28:11.014-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='haiku'/><title type='text'>Haikus for you</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;i think i promised&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;to update on auden b&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;more frequently, yes?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;i shall not tell fibs.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;an update you shall receive&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;in my haiku state.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;little midget is&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;about to flip over soon&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;when he moves his arm.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;he has not learned yet,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;but he's well on his way to.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;i have total faith.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;mommy dearest is&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;searching for a new jobby&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;this is no secret.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;it is friday night&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;i have prosecco breath now&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;wish hubby was home.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4002502353709640827-4997883256232303906?l=hazardasamom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/feeds/4997883256232303906/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4002502353709640827&amp;postID=4997883256232303906' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/4997883256232303906'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/4997883256232303906'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/2008/04/haikus-for-you.html' title='Haikus for you'/><author><name>jes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02751130217025208911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4002502353709640827.post-3081396257580392433</id><published>2008-04-21T22:29:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-21T22:56:38.806-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='auden'/><title type='text'>Been a long time since yr blog n roll...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LP-_Up20yEA/SA1SrjTN2XI/AAAAAAAAAAM/BzAIMCNGDjE/s1600-h/IMG00078.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LP-_Up20yEA/SA1SrjTN2XI/AAAAAAAAAAM/BzAIMCNGDjE/s320/IMG00078.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5191896853591742834" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Mrs Hazard and the Midget on his half birthday.&lt;br /&gt;April 19, 2008.&lt;br /&gt;Greendome Garden, McCarren Park, Brooklyn&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Saturday, it was my son's half birthday! Yep, midget is now 6 months old. Today is my half birthday. I think it just finally clicked that I'm 30. *gulp*&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Clearly, a lot has happened since my last post, therefore, here's a brief rundown of events and tidbits:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;1. I gave birth. October 19, 2007 5:04 pm. Although, it started the day before at 6 am. Yep, 35 hours, betch.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. His name is Auden Brown Enrich Hammill and he's GORGE! (Yes, that's a big name for a little boy, but it fits, trust.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;3. Midget flew on a plane to and from Florida. And he was a champ. Lady with the screaming baby on the plane? Nope, not me! He slept! Holler!&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. If you think you had any sense of will power or strength, just wait till he smiles at you. You will be at his mercy. You are putty in his pudgy little hand.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. He sneezes and farts like his dad. He's hyperactive and bouncy like me.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. I am 2 lbs away from being pre-preggo weight (which means nothing to you, but THE WORLD to me)&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. He had his first 2 teeth break skin yesterday!&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. He prefers my knuckles and knees to any sort of gnawing device. Yes, it hurts.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. If you have a small female child, no, our children cannot get married. There is a waiting list for prearranged marriages 4 baby girls deep already. I'll consider a secondary waiting list, however, if you insist.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. Everyday, he blows my mind. Every...single...day.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that's what's been happening.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I promise to write more soon and chronicle the life of Auden Brown. He's fascinating, and I'm not just saying that because he's my son. Yes, I realize that all mothers say that, but this time it's different. No, really.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hazard's back, betch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4002502353709640827-3081396257580392433?l=hazardasamom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/feeds/3081396257580392433/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4002502353709640827&amp;postID=3081396257580392433' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/3081396257580392433'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/3081396257580392433'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/2008/04/been-long-time-since-yr-blog-n-roll.html' title='Been a long time since yr blog n roll...'/><author><name>jes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02751130217025208911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_LP-_Up20yEA/SA1SrjTN2XI/AAAAAAAAAAM/BzAIMCNGDjE/s72-c/IMG00078.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4002502353709640827.post-825753018956975523</id><published>2007-08-07T21:13:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-07T21:53:12.123-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Can't touch this.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Today was brutally hot. I succumbed to wearing the knit gauchos that I had sworn would never see the light of day outside of my apartment and a stretch puff sleeve top in the perfect shade of heather gray that accentuated my wet pits and drips of sweat running down from under my bra and onto my massive belly. Gross, I know. Way sexy. So then why, dear lord, as I walked on 14th Street between Avenue A and First Ave did I get hit on not once, but twice? Last week, I had a bum with black-face and newspapers attached to his "clothes" holler at me "Damn, I'm too late!" Instead of being offended, my husband and I just laughed. How could we not? But today...today was just wrong. One of the guys licked his lips and asked if he could rub my belly. Ew. I tried to tune the other one out, but still heard him sucking his teeth. Ugh. The things I go through for a Subway sandwich.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Luckily, these were just creepy men being gross, looking but not actually touching. However, what gives with most people feeling that they have the right to come up to me and start touching me? Where did I miss the memo on once a woman is pregnant, touching her without permission is okay? My husband can rub my belly. So can my mother. But the deli guy? My husband's drunk friends that I don't even like when they're sober? No no. I've had people ask to do it, and I suppose that's alright, at least asking before touching. But really, why do you need to at all? Trust, I have no desire to touch you. Sometimes, I see people walking towards me with their eyes growing wider and I feel like I have a glowing target hovering over my midsection. Sucking it in does nothing. I can't hide it. I just put on my plasti-smile and pray that the groping ends quickly. Should I start rubbing beer bellies? Grabbing man boobs? Where's the line?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't get me wrong, I appreciate that people are fascinated by my belliness and all, and I don't even mind that they usually have loads of questions. I'm more than happy to oblige and help people understand the cool parts and the really not so cool parts of breeding. I'd just prefer that there wasn't an extra pair of hands on me while I preach the pregnancy truths. Good thing I've traded in my bitchiness for a wee (very wee) bit of patience and have yet to resort to violence. If you eventually see my mugshot on NY1 because I was arrested for battery...well, you know why. And um, bring bail money.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4002502353709640827-825753018956975523?l=hazardasamom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/feeds/825753018956975523/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4002502353709640827&amp;postID=825753018956975523' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/825753018956975523'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/825753018956975523'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/2007/08/cant-touch-this.html' title='Can&apos;t touch this.'/><author><name>jes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02751130217025208911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4002502353709640827.post-5260742619632417997</id><published>2007-08-06T15:53:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-06T16:41:43.965-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Mrs. Meyers and Me.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;So my summer vacation is officially over. Wah. Didn't do so much on the fun tip, save for a trip to Coney Island and some uncomfortable shows. DID do a lot on the organizational and cleaning tip, however, getting ready for baby. I now can dedicate myself to blogging consistently again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Something that I've noticed over the months is that I've acquired a lot of bizarre habits/cravings since pregnancy, and none of them are food related.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. An overwhelming desire to surf and obsession with surf culture. It started by revisiting old faves like &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Endless Summer&lt;/span&gt; and watching an IFC Iconoclast episode with Laird Hamilton and Eddie Vedder, and has now progressed to me reading surfing blogs and constantly researching vacations to places that I won't be able to go to anytime soon due to the huge belly. (God bless &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;John from Cincinnati&lt;/span&gt; for showing up at the right time.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. A desire to be physically active and do...sports, and I don't mean going to the gym, I mean sports. If you know me at all, just the fact I'm saying the word is really, really out of control.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Cleaning. Now, I'm still not a fan of picking things up, and have always kinda had a thing for bathroom cleaning...but it's gotten bad. Last week I got so excited at my new matching mop/broom/bucket purchase, that I had to mop and broom again, even though I had just done that 3 days prior. I also had to stop myself from cleaning the bathroom again (which was still spotless from the previous cleaning).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I blame this partially on Mrs. Meyers. If there was ever something that could get you excited about cleaning, it's these products. I love the smell so much that I can't stop using them. Also, I don't feel afraid of any fumes or anything since it's all organic and biodegradable. And lo, they are coming out with a baby line right on time for the birth of Li'l Haz. It's like she knew I needed it. Thanks Mrs. Meyers, you're a pal. I should probably seriously consider working for the company since I've turned many of my friends into converts. All hail the lemon verbena!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's Monday. Monday is cleaning day. Time to go clean the bathroom! Hurray!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Help me, please, I have problems.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4002502353709640827-5260742619632417997?l=hazardasamom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/feeds/5260742619632417997/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4002502353709640827&amp;postID=5260742619632417997' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/5260742619632417997'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/5260742619632417997'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/2007/08/mrs-meyers-and-me.html' title='Mrs. Meyers and Me.'/><author><name>jes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02751130217025208911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4002502353709640827.post-5408724068086682663</id><published>2007-07-31T22:10:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-07-31T22:52:49.467-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sonic Youth'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='1990s'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Slits'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cause Co-Motion'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='shows'/><title type='text'>Vacation...all I ever wanted.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;My sincerest apologies for not having updated sooner. I've been vacationing. Kinda. You care, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quick vaca recap:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Discovered most adorablest bookstore in Greenpoint called Word. Word.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Ended up getting free tickets to see The Slits open for Sonic Youth doing all of &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Daydream Nation&lt;/span&gt;. (More on that in a minute)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Surprise bridal shower for my friend. Surprisingly fun. I had tears from laughing and almost peed my pants once.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Missed TV on the Radio and Celebration due to fucking Florida-like thunderstorms + bridal shower.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Most importantly.....SHARK WEEK!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday night, we arrived at McCarren Park with blanket in tow to see Sonic Youth. The Slits were already on stage, and we found a spot towards the back on a small ramp near the pool steps, laid down our blanket and got ready for it. Dear Hubby had warned me that I would probably love them, but that I would want to punch the singer because of her superfluous between song banter. He was right. Loved them. Hated her. Remembered that I had a friend who used to make me listen to them back in the day. Sonic Youth got on shortly after. The not-empty-pool was suddenly motherfucking packed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Husband was having a wonderful time. I like SY and all, but they're not my favorite. We had already seen them last year at one of the last shows at CBGB's, which was amazing (and not just cause I "fell" into Chloe Sevigny. HeeHee), so I was just being supportive little wifey. I was able to amuse myself with the Sunn geek. I loved him. He was hideous. He was wearing one of those hats that's half cowboy and half safari, with the little chin strap; Tevas, yes, Tevas, shorts and a Sunn 000))))) (or however you call it) t-shirt that was his cool point. His girlfriend/wifey/whatever was equally horrific with some sort of strange back rash/blackhead break out that I couldn't stop staring at because she was right in front of me. When the show started, they stood closer to the edge of the crowd, luckily still within my viewing range. Sunn geek and mate "danced" and bopped along to every song. Clearly, they were true fans, God bless them. Clearly, I was in awe. I, unfortunately, was picturing them having really awkward sex with him bopping on her as much as he was bopping to SY. I stopped looking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a while, I became &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;really&lt;/span&gt; uncomfortable. There was no position I could sit in that would alleviate the pain in my back, alternating with the my legs that were falling asleep. I sat silently crying in pain. Husband looked over at me and noticed that I was crying and quickly packed us up and left. I felt so guilty and kept apologizing for ruining it for him. Luckily, he had seen his favorite songs, and said there were probably only 1 or 2 songs left to play and that he'd rather see me comfortable than miserable. Aww. I love him. Because of that, I decided that I shouldn't go to anymore outdoor shows. I think I'm too big now to be able to enjoy the band and be comfortable. Too much smoking everywhere. Too much heat. Too much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight, we ventured downstairs to the bar next door to see Cause Co-mmotion and the 1990s. I, frankly, can't stand the 1990s, but was willing to go because Husband loves them and said I would like the other band. Midway into Cause Co-mmotion's set I had to leave. The venue was really tiny, and while I was seated comfortably towards the back, with no smoke and a delicious Shirley Temple, Li'l Hazard decided that it was too loud and kicked the shit out of me until I got up and left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's official. I think I'm done with shows. Luckily, summer is almost over and I won't be missing too many more. Next summer, we can take Li'l Haz with us in a Baby Bjorn to outdoor events with little mini earplugs. Husband and I are determined to raised this kid right, and way up there on the list is having good taste in music.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So how do I entertain myself now? And don't say crossword puzzles, because I've already done almost 200 this month, and I already finished Harry Potter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4002502353709640827-5408724068086682663?l=hazardasamom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/feeds/5408724068086682663/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4002502353709640827&amp;postID=5408724068086682663' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/5408724068086682663'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/5408724068086682663'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/2007/07/vacationall-i-ever-wanted.html' title='Vacation...all I ever wanted.'/><author><name>jes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02751130217025208911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4002502353709640827.post-3832246195428689955</id><published>2007-07-27T13:14:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-07-27T14:43:26.043-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sunny Day in Glasgow'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Blonde Redhead'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Peter Bjorn and John'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='El Perro del Mar'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Brooklyn'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='George Michael'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Television'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Jesus and Mary Chain'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Superchunk'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bat for lashes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='shows'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Panda Bear'/><title type='text'>Showtime</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Ahh...summer in Brooklyn. The humidity. The roofs that I can't climb up to. The throngs of scabbed and pasty white legs fitted with dirty white slip-on shoes. The waddling down Bedford. The shows!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This has been the summer I've looked forward to more than any other. This summer, I have weekends off! Hooray for no more working in retail! Croquet, fairs, shows, picnics....I can do it all! I get to sit and watch people sip mimosas and sangria and not touch any of it. Oh joy of joys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Although summer is almost half way done, and fall is just around the corner, I decided to document the shows that I've seen so far. Since this is a preggo blog though, I'm gonna take it all the way back to conception...to frigid January. After I pop, I'll have the full show listing so that when Li'l Hazard is all grown up, he can be stoked at having been to so many amazing performances.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Li'l Hazard's first show? Peter, Bjorn and John's secret show (and first show ever in the US!) at Union Hall playing as "At the Seaside!"--Amazing show.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-El Perro del Mar - I've played with dust that was more fun than this show.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Blonde Redhead w/Fields - Fields, eh. BR? Fabulous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Jesus and Mary Chain (missed opening band since Hubby &amp; pal were doing shots)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Hungry Marching Band @ Don't Demo the Domino - Does that count? It was fun, tho!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-A Sunny Day in Glasgow - The show where Li'l Haz started kicking!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Panda Bear - Made me really miss smoking pot. Brilliant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Television w/Dragons of Zynth &amp;amp; Apples in Stereo - DoZ are awful. Living Color and Fishbone are so much better. Missed Television &amp;amp; AiS because of impending thunderstorm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Superchunk w/others - First McCarren show. Marty Markowitz sighting! Annoying people! Surprisingly clean port-o-potties! Good hot dogs, thanks Sparky's!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Bat for Lashes - see below.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We almost saw Happy Mondays but that show got canceled due to visa problems.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's next for Li'l Haz? This weekend is TV on the Radio w/Celebration at McCarren. Stereo Total next month, perhaps? Who knows!?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What was your first show as a tyke? Mine? George Michael and The Bangles, Faith Tour 1988, Orange Bowl - Miami. Holla! It was my 11th birthday present. I still have the t-shirt!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4002502353709640827-3832246195428689955?l=hazardasamom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/feeds/3832246195428689955/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4002502353709640827&amp;postID=3832246195428689955' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/3832246195428689955'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/3832246195428689955'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/2007/07/showtime.html' title='Showtime'/><author><name>jes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02751130217025208911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4002502353709640827.post-3624304173382193737</id><published>2007-07-26T18:17:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-07-26T19:24:43.846-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='show'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='knitting factory'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bat for lashes'/><title type='text'>Bat for Lashes</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;One thing that hasn't changed in my pregnancy is my love of music and my need to see a good show.  I'm constantly exposed to music because I work from home and share an office with my dear husband who also works at home. He, working for a record store, is &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;constantly&lt;/span&gt; listening to music. I'm usually his barometer for seeing if something is good or bad. If he gets: "what's this?", I like it...or I'll like it at least for a few seconds. If he gets: "what the fuck are you listening to?", I don't like it...and more often than not, it's some obscure late 60s Japanese psych prog band that had one pressed album of 45 copies released and in turn, apparently influenced everything I've ever listened to. He doesn't seem to understand that this doesn't make it good to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recently, he discovered this youtube video that he really loved.  He was on point this time...it was great.  It was the video Bat for Lashes "What's a Girl To Do?" Here, I'll make it easy for you:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="350" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/n1wnOUH2jk8"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/n1wnOUH2jk8" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="350" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She's a fan of &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Donnie Darko&lt;/span&gt;, can you tell? Good, right? And how conveeeeeeenient that she was about to play a show at the Knitting Factory. Guest list!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We got there early. For the first time in our lives, we were one of the first people to arrive at a show--it was still daylight. We waited about 20 minutes for the opening act...if you could call it that. Now, usually, I'm the opinionated angry bitch who hates everything. Last night's honors went to dear, sweet hubby. Granted, Pepi Ginsberg is NOT good. I will never listen to her again, but she wasn't offensive. Hubby was &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;angry&lt;/span&gt;. Like, I worried for her life kind of angry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were scared. We'd seen the video for BFL, and listened to the album barely once or twice. What had we gotten ourselves into? My husband was on the verge of violence, my calves were cramping and li'l Hazard was bending it like Beckham in my uterus. We looked down from the balcony and noticed a sea of very early 20 something girls and very few boys. We felt old and not ironic enough. This was not good. This was not good at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The stage was being set...equipment being moved. One drum in front of a microphone. Another in front of a second microphone. Guitar. Violin. Another Violin. Keyboard. Was that a sampler in the corner? Eh? Some homie in a Sepultura shirt was doing mike checks. We were really hoping he was in the band. We were surprised he didn't kill Pepi. The awful alt-rock crap ceased and 4 glittery girls walked on stage, looking like they were about to be in a Beacon's Closet photo shoot. This was not good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Natasha Kahn held up a chain of golden bells and began to sing in French. I decided I was no longer going to look at what they were wearing (torture!) and just listen. And they blew my fucking mind. This was good. This was very very good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Song after song, these 4 ladies switched instruments back and forth and hooked me completely. Natasha's voice was perfect. The songs were incredible. Now, picture this: if Bjork made &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Homogenic &lt;/span&gt;almost completely organically but eliminate the Bjorkish wails, add tribal drums, add lots of gold and sequins, add a little Siouxsie for fun, then close your eyes and picture yourself in the middle of the forest where all the little creatures hanging around you are slightly dangerous, but totally glittery and fun. This is Bat for Lashes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately, my feet and calves really started to hurt and my belly kept bumping the balcony, so we left a little early. Regardless, my advise to you is: buy the album...and if BFL is ever playing a show near you...you *must* go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4002502353709640827-3624304173382193737?l=hazardasamom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/feeds/3624304173382193737/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4002502353709640827&amp;postID=3624304173382193737' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/3624304173382193737'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/3624304173382193737'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/2007/07/bat-for-lashes.html' title='Bat for Lashes'/><author><name>jes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02751130217025208911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4002502353709640827.post-6044446349165026074</id><published>2007-07-25T15:34:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-07-26T16:58:21.928-04:00</updated><title type='text'>From Martinis to Maternity</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;If you would have asked me a year ago what I'd be doing right now..well, it certainly wouldn't be this. I was busy planning my September wedding, and definitely still being me: a little hazardous, but mostly a good girl.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Really, I should have heeded my grandma's warning last May when she very confidently told me that I should quit smoking so much and start taking pre-natal vitamins. She said I was going to be pregnant and have a boy within a year. And he'd be a violin player. I patted her head and reassured her that it was not happening any time soon. I had things to do: get married, plan my April honeymoon (Paris is expensive, so we had to wait), and uh, you know, relish in being a newlywed! Every few weeks she would ask me if I was taking folic acid, and each time I'd say "Mami, give me two years, then I'll have a baby." She'd say, "We'll see. I'm telling you."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;February 2007:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lesson one: Listen to grandma and her tarot cards.&lt;br /&gt;I was a few weeks late. But, seeing as I don't really keep track of these things because my period is usually like clockwork, I really wasn't sure. I kept saying to myself that it was coming. My husband would say, "I think you're pregnant." To which I would, of course respond, "I am a woman, I understand my body. You're a boy, you know nothing of these things." Then he would repeat himself. And then I panicked. We'd always been so careful, so very good about it all!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't be. (denial)&lt;br /&gt;There's no way. (serious denial)&lt;br /&gt;How?! (duh)&lt;br /&gt;Ohhhhhh.....that night....martinis....riiiiight. (gotcha) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took a pregnancy test one afternoon, after my husband kept insisting that I was pregnant. (I mistook a stomach flu-like situation for morning sickness once, so I just happened to have a spare one at home.) I hadn't even stopped peeing on the stick and there was already a bright blue plus sign. Oh shit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Husband's reaction: "I told you!" Followed by kisses and him swearing to me that he wasn't mad. (I thought he would be livid...having a kid wasn't exactly on his calendar yet.)&lt;br /&gt;Mom's reaction: "FINALLY!" and even though I had just sworn her to secrecy, and told her to not tell anyone until I said it was okay....she screams to her office where my aunt, grandmother and cousin all work, "JESSICA'S PREGNANT!" Thanks mom.&lt;br /&gt;Grandma's reaction: "Duh, I told you. Now what colors do you want for the blanket?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pregnancy actually came at an okay time in my life. I had quit smoking on January 1st because I had decided that my new name was "Health" and approaching my 30th birthday I wanted to look and feel hot. I had just joined a gym. I had actually quit drinking. Well, I forced myself due to too many martinis, vodka cranberries, black outs, dancing myself literally into the ground, falling (I'll save the stories about how I got stigmata one year and bashed my face in, losing part of my eyebrow 3 weeks before my wedding, for another time. Yeah, you can call me Class.), and picking fights. I lived up to my nickname for many years, but now Hazard is about to be a mom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;July 2007:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fast forward. My boobs are HUGE. I can't get over them. I seriously can't wait to get rid of them either. They get in the way and I feel like a lactating porn star. My belly? Huger. Luckily, since I'm having a boy (aww li'l Hazard....God help me) the belly is going straight out and nowhere else. I'm 6 1/2 months pregnant, but I can still fit into my skinny jeans! Yes, granted they are ridiculously low cut, but humor me, I'm pregnant. These things make me feel better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last summer, I was planning my wedding. This summer, I'm helping out with planning my baby shower which shall be a co-ed luau. Can't deal with having too many chicks around me because I'll freak the fuck out. In the grand tradition of any sort of party with me involved, there will be plenty of drinking. Not by me, of course. But, if you are coming to my luau, be warned, your humiliation is my ultimate conquest. I may be big, but I'm still a terrorist.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                                                                                                                        &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4002502353709640827-6044446349165026074?l=hazardasamom.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/feeds/6044446349165026074/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4002502353709640827&amp;postID=6044446349165026074' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/6044446349165026074'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4002502353709640827/posts/default/6044446349165026074'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hazardasamom.blogspot.com/2007/07/from-martinis-to-maternity.html' title='From Martinis to Maternity'/><author><name>jes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02751130217025208911</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
