tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-84269148673245354292024-02-01T21:11:21.598-08:00Woman's Debauchery AuxiliaryThe best things from the mind, hands and life of Dorien DaviesDorienhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12288864260867644585noreply@blogger.comBlogger104125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8426914867324535429.post-79138519665330893282012-06-22T16:55:00.001-07:002012-06-22T16:55:15.557-07:00Runner's Bread<br />
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I've run three marathons. Mind you, this sounds like I'm a stud. I am not. I don't run fast. I do a run-walk the whole time and usually complete a marathon in around 5 hours. Still, finishing my first marathon was one of the greatest accomplishments of my life. I always remember the feeling I had as I crossed the finish line. I was so impressed with myself and so happy that it was OVER. I felt like, if I could do that, I could do anything. I know a lot of people say that but they say it because it's true.</div>
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One thing that people who run marathons know is that, when you are
training it is as much about running as it is about food. When you are
running for 5 hours, you get hungry. You burn massive amounts of
calories and you loose electrolytes as much as you sweat. Before any run, I eat toast and peanut butter with sliced banana, a cup of coffee (which I know is not good, thank you) and a big fat bottle of water. Most runners actually eat while they run. It's totally counter intuitive to the old adage that was drilled into us as kids to "wait 20 minutes after eating before you exercise." But when you run a marathon you have to learn to eat while exercising. I eat a power bar, 2 goos, a banana, pretzels and anything else, my family and friends bring along the way. When I am done with a run, I want to get something in my body right away. I always crave savory foods after a long run, like a chicken sandwich and of course a ton of fluids.</div>
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In between marathon day and the beginning of training, there are a lot of medium runs. I like those runs the best. They are work but without the extreme physical burden of race day. My favorite of these runs is the 7 mile run. This is because I live 7 miles from the beach. There is a bike path that takes you down to the ocean along the Ballona Creek (which, thanks to the army corps of engineers, is now a huge concrete drainage basin). At no point do you cross traffic just the occasional cyclist, so it is the perfect 7 mile run for me. When I get down to the ocean, it's so rewarding. The marina opens up and the ocean breeze rushes in, cooling me off and telling me that I am almost done. </div>
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I haven't run a marathon in 4 years. I remember asking The Husband (when he was still The Boyfriend) if he would wake up early on a Sunday morning to pick me up at the beach after one of my runs. It was sort of a litmus test for our early relationship, and of course it worked out just fine. I would ask him to pick me up in the little town of Playa Del Rey at a coffee shop where I finished my runs. I would stretch and go inside for a huge glass of ice water and a muffin. They served these insane muffins there that I called "Everything Muffins" because they seemed to have every kind of fruit, veg and nut inside them that you could imagine. They were so hearty and delicious that I remember feeling like no muffin had ever been more delicious that they were. Of course, endorphins will do that to you but still they were pretty damn good.</div>
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I have been thinking about training for a half marathon recently maybe in the fall and I thought that I would attempt to recreate the Everything Muffin on my own. Also, I have a surplus of zucchini in my garden and it's a good way to use them up.<br />
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I've modified a few recipes to create this one. Muffins seem fussy to me unless I'm cooking for a party so I made bread. The bread is very hearty and dense. It's more "healthy" than the original Everything Muffin. If you wanted to add 1/4 cup more sugar and use white flour instead of white/wheat they would probably be more like the original. And I'm sure it would be even better with cream cheese frosting but that's more like cake at that point. Here is the version that I like. It's good for an every day breakfast or for an post-run recovery snack.</div>
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Runners Bread<br />
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3 Cups White Whole Wheat Flour<br />
1 t Salt<br />
1 t Baking Powder<br />
1 t Baking Soda<br />
3 t Cinnamon<br />
1/4 Cup Milled Flax (I have one with dried blueberries from Trader Joes that I like)<br />
1/4 Cup Shredded Coconut (I used unsweetened but it doesn't matter either way)<br />
1/2 nuts (I prefer walnuts but used almonds because that is what I had)<br />
3 eggs<br />
1 Cup Grape Seed Oil<br />
2 t Vanilla Extract<br />
1 1/2 Cup Turbinado Sugar<br />
1 Heaping Cup Grated Zucchini<br />
1 Heaping Cup Grated Carrots<br />
1/2 Cup Yellow Raisins<br />
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<br /></div>
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Combine flour, salt, baking powder, baking soda, cinnamon, flax, coconut and nuts and set aside. Then in a separate bowl, combine eggs, oil, vanilla, sugar whisk together. Add zucchini, carrots and raisins to wet mixture. Add dry ingredients to wet. But into a parchment lined bread pan and bake on 350 degrees for about an hour.</div>
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White whole wheat is a great substitute for regular white flour. You usually don't have to modify the recipe like you do with whole wheat flour and you still get some fiber.<br />
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Combine dry ingredients. My dry ingredients included flax seeds with dried blueberries. I bought it on accident and it was a great mistake.<br />
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Oil and eggs.<br />
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Add vanilla and sugar.<br />
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Add in the vegetables and then the dry ingredients.<br />
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Line a loaf pan with parchment paper.<br />
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Fill loaf pan with batter. Slam down on the counter a few times to get the parchment in it's proper place.<br />
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Bake for about an hour at 350 degrees. Use the ole toothpick test because it can take as little as 50 minutes depending on the oven.<br />
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Enjoy (with or without the run).Dorienhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12288864260867644585noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8426914867324535429.post-8541700034864055192012-06-18T15:55:00.001-07:002012-06-18T15:55:08.283-07:00White Peach Jam<div style="text-align: justify;">
I've known some major canning queens. You know, the people who have pantries that are filled with jars of various sizes and colors. People who have pantries that make them look like a 15th century alchemists. </div>
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I am not one of those people, but I know a lot of them and subsequently have amassed a little stockpile of my own. Pickles and peppers, jams and jellies. All made with love and given to me as Christmas gifts or thank you gifts or just for the sake of not having to compost the bounty of an over abundant Summer garden.</div>
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But when my cousin's white peach tree bent over with the weight of the most succulent, drippy and flavorful peaches I'd ever tasted, I thought how incredible it would be to taste them all year long. The alchemist in me wanted to play.</div>
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People who are drawn to nostalgia and dreaming are the people who can.
It's like scrapbooking but with flavors instead of images. I just like the idea of keeping a little time capsule of sweet summer peaches from June 2012 in my pantry. </div>
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<br /></div>
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I ended up making half of this <a href="http://www.pickyourown.org/peachjam.htm" target="_blank">low sugar recipe</a> (except, I used turbinado sugar instead of white refined sugar). The flavor of the peaches was what made the jam so unbelievable. Their tender white flesh melted in my hands if I struggled with the pit for too long. The skins came right off without even needing blanching. They were at the height of ripeness. </div>
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<br />
So
far the lids have not popped which bodes well for me not poisoning The Husband when we eat it. The little Italian-made jars tempt me every
time I open the cupboard for dry beans. I only made 3 jars and
gave one to my cousin. So, I am going to use them on special occasions.
Perhaps I'll wait until the Fall. I know that by then, I'll be
missing the heat and stone fruit of summer and the contents of these little jars will taste even
better... if the lids don't pop.<br /><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Dorienhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12288864260867644585noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8426914867324535429.post-24643234194870525042012-06-08T11:12:00.001-07:002012-06-08T11:53:26.943-07:00Ray Bradbury - Our Friend<div>
Ray Bradbury was a friend of mine. I'm not saying this figuratively, in that way, everyone was his friend, I mean this literally. Our family was
lucky enough to know him personally and we loved him. He was a great
ally to us, our belief systems and our Santa Barbara bookshop (The Earthling). <br />
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As a child, I remember the white linen suits that he wore on hot summer days. I remember thinking that I'd never seen such a well dressed man. He almost glowed. When he came to visit, he would drink a tumbler of scotch that my Dad would fetch from the bar across the street as he sat by the unlit fireplace signing hundreds of copies of his books.<br />
<br />
When we were surrounded by both a Boarders and a Barns and Noble and the sad fate of the independent bookstore cast it's shadow over the Earthling, Ray made the trip up to Santa Barbara to try to breath some life back into our sales. He held a marathon signing once, where the line stretched around the city block. He didn't leave until the last person was greeted and even then he stayed to sign a few extras for us. To me, he was like a jolly ghost, who would appear in our shop, making my parents happy, making sales go up and reinforcing the belief that independent bookstores were nurtured by and nurtured, independent minds like his.<br />
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My Mother wrote the following article for the Santa Barbara View upon hearing about Ray's death. She sent it to me last night and it made me nostalgic. I guess I had forgotten that "Fahrenheit 451" was the reason that she wanted to own a bookstore. In a way, it seems that Ray was the reason that I was raised amung the canyons of bookshelves and surrounded by the smell of paper. Ray was the reason that I was breast fed in a bookstore's receiving room and that I took my naps under the sale table. He was the reason that when Salman Rushdie wrote the "Satanic Verses," that my Mother refused to take it off the shelf despite death threats. Apparently, Ray was one of the reasons that my family was inspired to be so brave. And for that, I cannot put into words how grateful I am to that man. <br />
<br />
I hope his spirit is flying somewhere over the surface of Mars in a freshly pressed white linen suit, tumbler of scotch in one hand, typewriter in the other. I sure will miss him here on Earth.<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Memories of Ray Bradbury</span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #999999;">by Penny & Terry Davies (my Mom and Dad)</span><br />
</div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
Hearing about Ray Bradbury's death was certainly a shock. The
Earthling Bookshop and we, Penny and Terry Davies, owed him a lot. He
came to our bookshop at least once a year between 1974 and 1998. He not
only was our favorite, among all the authors we hosted, but he was a
good friend and supporter of The Earthling.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
When we opened a shop in San Luis Obispo, he said he and his driver
would be happy to go up there for a signing. (Ray never drove himself
anywhere, he was uncomfortable driving. He always had his driver bring
him up to Santa Barbara to see us, and to Barnaby Conrad's Writer's
Conference). </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Penny told him that "Fahrenheit
451" was
the book that inspired her to become a bookseller. He liked hearing
that. He loved independent bookshops and did everything he could to
support and advance them. We were amazed that he offered to drive from
Venice, where he lived, to appear in our brand new satellite Earthling
in San Luis Obispo. Four hours up and four hours back, and, as always,
he filled the new store with thrilled fans. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Ray
never just sat at a table to sign books. Invariably he gave a little
talk first. The store was always packed when we announced his coming. He
would relay the following story over and over again because he loved
imitating John Huston:</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
John Huston: Ray, I want you to come to Ireland and write the screen play for "Moby
Dick". </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Ray: But John, I've never read "Moby Dick". </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
John Huston: Don't you think you'd better get a copy?</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Ray
went to Ireland, but didn't stay with Huston on the hill. A couple of
miles from Huston's mansion was the village pub with accommodations
upstairs. Ray stayed there where he mixed with the locals and drank
plenty of the local booze. They amused him by telling stories of the
Banshee who haunted the hills around the village. One night, he was
walking back from the big house and heard the wails of the Banshee. He
was laughing at himself, saying that he ran all the way back to the
pub, all the while wondering if he had had too much Irish drink, or was
there really "Something Wicked This Way Comes".</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
He
always opened the SB Writer's Conference, advising perspective writers
in very positive terms. He told them about his comic book collection
when he was a child. Ray looked back on his childhood and said those
comic books opened his imagination for the books he would write when he
was a man.</div>
<div>
He lamented the fact that someone told him to
destroy those 'useless' comic books, and he mistakenly took their
advice. His theme at the Writer's Conference was: "Everything is a
Metaphor". At first, we were never sure what he meant, but by the time
he was finished, we knew he was right.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
After
a signing one Sunday afternoon, we offered to take Ray to dinner down
the street at his favorite Indian restaurant.
He, in turn invited all his entourage to come along. These were
admirers that always came to see him when he came to the Earthling. Ray
enjoyed himself enormously, eating huge amounts of very spicy Indian
food. His face was very flushed and we asked him if he was worried about
his blood pressure. "I've never had a sick day in my life", was his
reply. We thought he would live forever.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The
Earthling closed both locations in 1998 and we moved to North Carolina in 2008.
When Ray died this week, all the good memories of Ray in Santa Barbara
came rushing back.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
Ray Bradbury was not only a
gifted writer, he was a kind, happy man who enjoyed his life enormously.
Thanks for coming into our lives, Ray, and making it richer for
having known you.<br />
<br />
Penny and Terry Davies<br />
(somewhere in politically disgusting North Carolina)Dorienhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12288864260867644585noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8426914867324535429.post-41829627353522803242012-06-07T18:22:00.000-07:002012-06-07T20:22:51.075-07:00Cleveland International Film Festival<div style="text-align: justify;">
Our movie has taken us all around the country. In the last four months we've taken "<a href="http://missedconnectionsmovie.com/" target="_blank">Missed Connections</a>" to Cleveland, Colorado Springs, Boston and Ann Arbor. There have been too many wonderful memories for me to mention all of them. But I am going to attempt to share some of the highlights with you and I'm starting with Cleveland.... </div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
We premiered here, it was our first festival and probably one of the greatest times of my life. The Husband and I joked that it was better than our wedding day, but we may not have been joking. Here, we screened to four sold out 250+ seat houses. They just kept adding screenings. One day we had to turn away a hundred people who had waited in line for an hour. That day the line wrapped all the way down the multiplex's corridor and around the corner into the food court. This was taken at the premier...</div>
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<tr align="center"><td><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/RnbOgTmZLaglhQr7w9nYNR9Iy1f1nvk83AOLwtFTha8?feat=embedwebsite"><img height="612" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGCZgByFMA3LHWBpQHeQffnOoRNN92_hPLzIH3NTRW1P5gxuhcyRH9TOP16jIj5A5L_YdJm8RCW396vaiT_wG_yZltam8zFeB2-_KbbB1Ulgt5IOoubZ2gUgUJy1yv5mM3i49M0SaO21ct/s800/Cleveland%2520Screening.jpg" width="612" /></a></td></tr>
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We sat in the audience with our parents as the Festival Programmer, Bill Guentzler introduced the film. "This came as a submission," he said "which is really unusual. Finding movies like this is the reason that I do what I do. I really love this movie and I hope you do too." The four of us held hands, cried a little and then the movie started. </div>
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All of what I just said still seems untrue or like something that you dream about when you are a child but then you become jaded and accustomed to never attaining it as an adult. It still hasn't really settled in, even now, four months later. At one point, my father said to my mother, "This is the kind of thing that you hope for, for your children." Uh....yeah. It was unbelievable.</div>
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<tr align="center"><td><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/qwLGfuHnYG2CZIT_jiKZ7R9Iy1f1nvk83AOLwtFTha8?feat=embedwebsite"><img height="612" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7dKQQxE1590/T9E4tBoXFEI/AAAAAAAACtQ/m_1S5gtYwrs/s800/MC%2520Team%25202nd%2520Screening.jpg" width="612" /></a></td></tr>
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I love this picture above because it looks a little like a framed album cover that I have of the <i>Not Ready For Prime Time Players</i>. At the closing night gala, we stepped into a grand pavilion where two thousand people stood. It looked like this...</div>
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<tr align="justify"><td><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/b6x6Almemso2AdR723z81R9Iy1f1nvk83AOLwtFTha8?feat=embedwebsite"><img height="612" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2O2XZF1ZBh4/T9E4shRHBZI/AAAAAAAACtI/8V22-ZnoKAk/s800/gala%2520crowd.jpg" width="612" /></a></td></tr>
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We were certain that although, our film had done well, that there would be no actual awards for us. That seemed impossible. There were bigger movies with bigger budgets (200 times bigger), they had stars and important subject matter and did I mention the budget? We were small potatoes with our cast of friends, our stolen locations and our budget of 25K. Who would give us an award? </div>
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And then a man on the podium said "and the winner of the best American Independent film goes to..." and then our name "MISSED CONNECTIONS." It was so clear and yet, it didn't really sink in. The words seemed to spill out of his mouth like they were slowly being written in calligraphy in the air. I could almost see the loopy font hovering above the podium. The Husband was already on the stage before I even realized what was happening. Our producer, Lisa Rudin had to turn around and say "Dorien! Come on!!" And there it was. We won. I cried.</div>
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Cleveland Rocked</div>
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<tr><td><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/aqYlhAmAnSs6dfl-Quxz1h9Iy1f1nvk83AOLwtFTha8?feat=embedwebsite"><img height="800" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SdcdRuj01CQ/T9E4tS3Y7RI/AAAAAAAACtY/d5dqWtnRKjU/s800/Doriend%2526Lisa%2520Win.jpg" width="796" /></a></td></tr>
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I honestly didn't think that the night could get any better and then, I met Wayne White from (best documentary winner) <a href="http://beautyisembarrassing.com/" target="_blank">Beauty Is Embarrassing</a>. This was my favorite doc from all four festivals that I've been to thus far. You should see it. He's an artist and he's remarkable. </div>
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<tr><td><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/XuWYTe2lzKAaV3V1b0ly8B9Iy1f1nvk83AOLwtFTha8?feat=embedwebsite"><img height="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmPbq-6By0uh99j7HLp8P-8JZzvVFCYvCAbS4VAzWF0OJfaCQSC_iUyjY5LhOdLpNNV2YyF1WbZW5rGKPpYymr9DvWIL-pfxUlarY1xfwMGTrYM2uIC7fkT7fI9FB4dSzGzjmq2JOveSQ-/s800/photo%25285%2529.JPG" width="800" /></a></td></tr>
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We left the next day and I swear it felt like we flew home without a plane. Here's proof...<br />
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<tr><td><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/hzay5v5o0nx2Df_eSP9_yh9Iy1f1nvk83AOLwtFTha8?feat=embedwebsite"><img height="534" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0VmU8QBknhk/T9E4rtNyspI/AAAAAAAACtA/tWK8OR3PaWY/s800/6878942686_8f65c5ce9b_b.jpg" width="800" /></a></td></tr>
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Cleveland changed me. The festival was so organized and so encouraging that it set the bar unbelievably high for every other festivals. The people of Cleveland love independent movies with a feverish passion. I've never seen anything like it. It was simply the most rewarding experience I've ever had as an artist. I cannot thank them enough. They put such a fire under our asses that we are already working on another movie. I hope I get to go back to Cleveland one day, even if I don't have a movie to show. It's just that good.</div>
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<br />Dorienhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12288864260867644585noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8426914867324535429.post-80661246835894370632012-03-21T19:38:00.000-07:002012-03-21T19:39:11.519-07:00Missed Connections (the best thing I've ever cooked up)<div style="text-align: justify;">
Most of you know that I'm an actress by trade. I've mentioned it before, but what you may not know is that I've spent the last year making a feature film with my husband and two amazing partners/friends. Our movie Missed Connections is premiering at the <a href="http://www.clevelandfilm.org/festival/films/2012/missed-connections" target="_blank">Cleveland International Film Festival</a> next week and we could not be more happy/proud. I guess it's one of those moments in life when, you have to take a sec to say 'thank you' and 'wow' and 'holy shit we did it!'</div>
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<tr><td><a href="http://missedconnectionsmovie.com/" target="_blank"><img height="800" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5ptkP2P7MGnYsg21ZiOFCW7Kkt-cpXnDDyAf9FT2covENVrGZO1gDa-bMlyqnUb7cWkWSorvME88Q4ymEBCQ9Fcvuv9yeePk53W04jtmm71uAlkO-aRyKf4es2eCnUY9n149b6GtuQg4U/s800/MC%2520Poster%2520Final.jpg" width="600" /></a></td></tr>
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So 'thank you' to all who supported me and 'wow' what the hell am I going to wear and 'holy shit we did it' (I hope this isn't the last time).<br />
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If you are interested in seeing Missed Connections at at theater near you, you can like us on <a href="http://www.facebook.com/missedconnectionsmovie" target="_blank">Facebook</a> and follow us on <a href="https://twitter.com/#%21/MissedConMovie" target="_blank">Twitter</a> as we'll be updating it daily.Dorienhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12288864260867644585noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8426914867324535429.post-40592043979142803702012-02-17T23:40:00.000-08:002012-02-17T23:40:50.003-08:00Homemade Vanilla Bean Marshmallows<table style="width: auto;"><tbody>
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My friend Beth got a little outdoor fire pit for her back yard. She lives in a beautiful house in Mar Vista, just west of us. She and her husband have worked so hard renovating their home and installing beautiful drought tolerant landscaping. They have awesome parties loaded with southern delicacies like sweet tea vodka and 8 hour-smoked, pork butt. Everyone loves it there, it's just a nice place to be.</div>
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A few weeks ago Beth mentioned that she was going to throw herself a birthday party. As usual, I was super excited. We brainstormed a little and I said that I would make some homemade marshmallows to roast on her new fire pit at the party. It made me think about camping trips when I was little and cold winter nights with my friends, circled around the flames. Who knows, maybe I'd even bring some graham crackers and chocolate... </div>
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But then the news came that The Husband and I booked a gig that night and I was going to have to miss all the fun. I was so bummed to miss the party but I figured I would make the marshmallows anyway. I mean, I love this girl like a sister and if I can't be there at least my marshmallows can.</div>
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<tr><td><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/5eTR5vrFF4CRLJcy6zJEXdMTjNZETYmyPJy0liipFm0?feat=embedwebsite"><img height="800" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ6qvn7vv1AMgJa1gkDql6jZvtSHay5BHhjxDErARX-v3h7lH4lOdafV0IS8NSjVz_x46OQ4mNwnR3YQ-Gid0e2XuxsxASjAOnpE4NIMxrtL6LT9vHtLiLM4rfHo3Sfut5t0SHF9Uc39h7/s800/IMG_0540.jpg" width="600" /></a></td></tr>
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I used <a href="http://www.marthastewart.com/341856/vanilla-marshmallows">Martha Stewart's recipe</a> and made the yummiest batch of 'shmallows I've ever tasted. I toasted and ate like four of them before I had to force myself to walk away (for fear of passing out on the kitchen floor in a diabetic coma). They had the yummiest consistency. Not at all like the store bought kind. The are more substantial and when toasted, they develop an almost creme brule type crust around the outside while turning to pudding inside.</div>
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Since I missed the party, I think I should make it up to myself by going 'camping' in my back yard more often. Maybe I'll spend a little time outside around a flame (even if that flame is a brule torch). Maybe I'll surround myself with friends and sing campfire songs (or because we're work-a-holics, the 'idea' of friends and our ipod doc). Perhaps I'll sit under the stars and think about life (or maybe just the moon, because I live in LA and we never see the stars). It's not perfect dream but it will do. </div>
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Happy Birthday Beth! I love you this much...</div>
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</tbody></table>Dorienhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12288864260867644585noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8426914867324535429.post-11518937408366931432011-12-08T17:32:00.001-08:002011-12-08T17:53:48.665-08:00Adventures of Huckleberry Finn (Robotic Edition)I think I may have hit the awesome, nerd, Christmas present jackpot. Well to be honest, I didn't hit it. Gabe and Etta did. They are a couple of funny people who cohabitate. We know them. They have a dog, an awesome logo and they just made a movie. Yeah, you could say, we have a lot in common (except, for the logo part I should work on that one). Gabe and Etta (<a href="http://dianianddevine.com/">Diani and Devine</a>) pitched a little project on Kickstarter that went... how shall we say...fuckng crazy. Here is thier original pitch...<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="480" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/uzpVZoG23qE?rel=0" width="853"></iframe>
It went so well that their project was funded many times over and now it's DONE. As a matter of fact, the books are showing up tomorrow morning. Hard copy, illustrated versions of Huckleberry Finn, except Jim... is a robot. Here's a peek....<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="480" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/bc1BmG6rk0k?rel=0" width="640"></iframe>
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You can buy the robotic edition of Huckleberry Finn <a href="http://dianianddevine.com/">here. </a><br />
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You're welcome.Dorienhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12288864260867644585noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8426914867324535429.post-64655931629899213352011-12-03T14:43:00.001-08:002011-12-03T16:11:33.004-08:00Tom Kha Gai MartiniYes, like the Thai soup, but only vaguely. <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tom_kha_gai">Tom Kha Gai</a> is such a yummy awesome savory soup whose prominent flavors are coconut milk, lemongrass and Kaffir lime leaves. Sounds like a drink to me.<br />
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<tr><td><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/9MH8PMmY2Sef5YEzVm-a09MTjNZETYmyPJy0liipFm0?feat=embedwebsite"><img height="800" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicluLs4o5518L4VeggA8tBi8oZEzWWsPpsEZsRF9ES9h36F0NOG9DrAvoffvac67WL0Gx-m4ErCO79V7_tbOA-DSya7wyFIkJKXEunCrtZ91xffFD2SBdcHYq0YTAL3695KDI6-ElaUxEo/s800/IMG_3257.JPG" width="600" /></a></td></tr>
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I came up with this martini last year as a way to deal with all the amazing citrus that I scored on the <a href="http://debaucheryauxiliary.blogspot.com/2011/11/my-heaven.html">ranch</a>. The Kaffir limes were especially intriguing to me with their wrinkly skin, all puckered and slick. And they smell uh-mazing.
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<tr><td><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/drYxNpkNRba4qLb06V9Bk9MTjNZETYmyPJy0liipFm0?feat=embedwebsite"><img height="800" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCXAaxBZmHd3Kf6oMc94PgtWEmHo4b55ldv7zEimwKMbt5-7LwSt1ZLJ1vDQq6OcC8s9jZJtlzAlIIFJkk6zDpi826DD19L5nCNwZJ4wQbiG_e2AMxF8JcV73d72kU5aWphRyDfKNiYrON/s800/IMG_3049.JPG" width="600" /></a></td></tr>
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I have since seen them at Whole Foods for a few bucks a pop. I would say that the flavor of these Kaffir limes are so distinct and fresh that they are totally worth it in these martinis.
The first thing I did was I infused a bottle of vodka with a stalk of lemon grass. Nothing fancy, I basically just put a bunch of beat up lemongrass (if you smash it, the oils come out) into a bottle and let it infuse on a shelf for about a month.
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I had this in my freezer all ready to go when the Kaffir limes came my way, so everything was fresh. Not sure if the Kaffir limes will be around in January still, so I'm sure you can infuse the vodka in a week if you want to try this asap just stick some more lemon grass in there.<br />
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Then I made an infused simple syrup.<br />
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<b>Kaffir Lime Simple Syrup</b><br />
The Rind of 2 Small Kaffir Limes<br />
2 Cups of Sugar<br />
1Cup of Water<br />
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I took the rind of two small Kaffir limes and placed them in a sauce pan with 2 cups of sugar and 1 cup of water. I brought it to a boil and let it cool and stew a little. Once the syrup cooled on the stove top, I strained out the rind pieces and transferred the liquid to a squeeze bottle.
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Here's what you need...
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<a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/xUWIbU4Hk44_1_ZDiKkX7NMTjNZETYmyPJy0liipFm0?feat=embedwebsite"><img height="800" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sO7G2t8sX08/TtLv8RUem5I/AAAAAAAACRA/uTt6L5pnRPM/s800/IMG_3226.JPG" width="600" /></a></td></tr>
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<b>Tom Kha Gai Martini </b><br />
1/4 Cup Lemongrass Infused Vodka<br />
1/4 Cup Coconut Water (optional dash of Coco Loco if you like creamy drinks)<br />
1 Tablespoon Kaffir Lime Syrup<br />
Juice of 1/2 a Key Lime (or regular limes)<br />
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In a shaker filled with ice, combine the ingredients and shake it up. Put it into a sugar rimmed martini glass and party. It's perfect for holiday cocktail time. Beware though... they are strong and taste like wonderful.Dorienhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12288864260867644585noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8426914867324535429.post-14283177410152918042011-11-27T20:55:00.001-08:002011-12-09T10:24:22.410-08:00My Heaven<table style="width: auto;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/111513752358481370473/November272011?feat=embedwebsite#5679864556135626994"><img height="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeUlB7YlgEPJ6vK308HFd0Y_tprBvelg9wIdq8_v02OD-N9imHSMjjfgLtRQPuQDdWp-BeWPgrHywIA_HWP_74OosLQzMq_d3NwfPzv0BwLPDCK3w6JCy9FzFfN1ibPMsOOHEW6KySQtbf/s800/IMG_3123.JPG" width="800" /></a></td></tr>
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Last year, in the beginning of November I stayed with some friends at an amazing hill top estate just north of Los Angeles. My buddies invited us to relax for a few days while they house sat for some old family friends. I spent two days there and returned with a fresh head and a kind of peace that I hadn't felt since returning from my honeymoon. But, most of all, I felt inspired. Inspired to cook, to grow things, to live a better life. Here's why...<br />
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<a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/IB9SAqFg0hMOZNsiIopI-NMTjNZETYmyPJy0liipFm0?feat=embedwebsite"><img height="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAue53CROuHTmXNbL6ueTiG8v0kxI3YeTxvRqljOjsQgmTjT_ZTCDpnObeNr6pSG44DAIeP9-gUJqK7L6k0OspzYXIMsCp20vIVftet6jUii3PPTSVTo7SeLZ2j8Y5cpqJYxEkRWJ74qLH/s800/IMG_3072.JPG" width="800" /></a>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
...it was paradise up there. We were out of the smog and congestion of the city. The new rains of November had begun to turn the hills green and everything smelled fresher than I knew possible. This house and the property it sits on, were so memorable, so special, that I think I now have a clear idea of what my dream home would look like but mostly, what it would feel like.<br />
<br />
True, it was a fancy piece of real estate, but what made the property particularly amazing was not it's size or the amenities that it had. It was how the house and the hillside that it was built on, worked together. The house was very much part of the land, unimposing and harmonious. There was an enormous herb garden and a dozen amazing fruit trees...<br />
<table style="width: auto;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/cpoTno2sVQlTJSOgnKzDQtMTjNZETYmyPJy0liipFm0?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmzskoDNnbfcYuPaEdu_nPB3z7ICGto5fvbKXDdCDvQlYmxcGDkSJ1FAxHGtPNrsvnjaY3WfoqA5hu7HRQqzPmdqJLCjzHv6forP8xUUzoAW8phOfgnqFxyRGS8ioCKNT8NStp5OJveBhJ/s800/IMG_3044.JPG" /></a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
lemon...<br />
<table style="width: auto;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/1JHss3Hw6fp3zmBYkOJkmNMTjNZETYmyPJy0liipFm0?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EMxyqIhf4Uk/TtLqhWSy2uI/AAAAAAAACHY/Y0ONi1OaEWs/s800/IMG_3046.JPG" /></a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Kaffir lime..<br />
<table style="width: auto;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/drYxNpkNRba4qLb06V9Bk9MTjNZETYmyPJy0liipFm0?feat=embedwebsite"><img height="800" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCXAaxBZmHd3Kf6oMc94PgtWEmHo4b55ldv7zEimwKMbt5-7LwSt1ZLJ1vDQq6OcC8s9jZJtlzAlIIFJkk6zDpi826DD19L5nCNwZJ4wQbiG_e2AMxF8JcV73d72kU5aWphRyDfKNiYrON/s800/IMG_3049.JPG" width="600" /></a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Buddha's hand...<br />
<table style="width: auto;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/i4hSmh-LIBo9cnh8zjhCxdMTjNZETYmyPJy0liipFm0?feat=embedwebsite"><img height="800" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-88SImRTtWpE/TtLrFKK_8TI/AAAAAAAACIg/HoE_ybpKwOg/s800/IMG_3052.JPG" width="600" /></a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table style="width: auto;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/2aTDIhRWe-OIS0KtBVeaStMTjNZETYmyPJy0liipFm0?feat=embedwebsite"><img height="600" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dUaDwzzXkHg/TtLrCk748lI/AAAAAAAACIY/QN_WYNdvziA/s800/IMG_3053.JPG" width="800" /></a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
orange...<br />
<table style="width: auto;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/OFp5YQwi_mGBTScl2mmxctMTjNZETYmyPJy0liipFm0?feat=embedwebsite"><img height="800" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-e1CXe40MPq8/TtLrPD5tzTI/AAAAAAAACIo/4AV4_0JSJh0/s800/IMG_3054.JPG" width="600" /></a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
a donkey...<br />
<table style="width: auto;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/wLO0J6U_KUsvaHwrmnAaYtMTjNZETYmyPJy0liipFm0?feat=embedwebsite"><img height="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjJgekGc8lRen3hmTcJa3D-6a30iBmUEVEjko_nTjpg8JE5FmRfVbEE_gkchbMI-lwZGPucut-0-YoK6IpgSlB3L__zZpiky7wt7qU7JBdHtjyP_h1BEwL9BIvK7_45VS-gOiZjb66_hju/s800/IMG_3056.JPG" width="800" /></a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
a chicken coup,<br />
<table style="width: auto;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/rc3hg1cdddFwerlOO8cGLtMTjNZETYmyPJy0liipFm0?feat=embedwebsite"><img height="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgMG7BNe220cuhJryE6NNL6H68kDGfJMDeg_4FQu4VBvpwiF10U1kMFmNul0ZYWJogyKfuMCKalninePDzoXRTx8ho49lftHHe34fx89yhQG3R8rQDCWlv1w0tZw6d-BN5aRTNedqkY_D2/s800/IMG_3064.JPG" width="800" /></a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
a ten million dollar view...<br />
<table style="width: auto;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/SuDX6axTQik3cb_FzEopjdMTjNZETYmyPJy0liipFm0?feat=embedwebsite"><img height="600" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YWBquV0IpBI/TtLruWWmWZI/AAAAAAAACJk/63k2d1oWjXo/s800/IMG_3067.JPG" width="800" /></a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
and a stunning pool with a pool house (okay that part was kind of fancy).<br />
<table style="width: auto;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/pYa06SIIBC32KXDcJD1iftMTjNZETYmyPJy0liipFm0?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-WuBclbMbahY/TtLu-S5rEgI/AAAAAAAACRw/wAsSH4wPC-c/s800/IMG_3127.JPG" /></a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The homeowners are huge foodies so to top it all off, the kitchen, oh the kitchen... was perfect. Everything in this kitchen was in the right place, a thick solid chopping block with a prep sink just off to the side of the stove, a grand refrigerator that was stocked to the gills with everything good, a pantry with a thousand beautiful oils and vinegars and fresh spices from around the world. Baskets hung from the ceiling used for collecting the days harvest. There was an impressive collection of the greatest cookbooks ever printed. Anything you could imagine, it seemed, had been made in that kitchen. Apparently the homeowner used to teach cooking classes there. I would pay for those classes, if not simply to just be in that kitchen again.<br />
<br />
After a day of sunning ourselves by a deep blue mountaintop pool and drinking wine from my friend's family winery. We needed a substantial meal. On the menu that night were grilled beef kababs (grass finished and organic) with couscous and a blood orange sauce, leafed brussel sprouts with pancetta and pomegranates and cheesecake prepared by the lady of the house as a "thank you for housesitting" gift (like that was needed).<br />
<br />
Cooking in that kitchen was divine. At one point, I was so blissed out, so deep in the mojo of prepping dinner, inundated with a feeling of purpose and connectedness, that I didn't notice The Husband sitting alone at the kitchen table staring at me. He had a Cheshire Cat smile on his face. "What?!" I said, when I saw him. "One day," he said "I'm going to buy you a kitchen like this. I will." I laughed at him. "I'm serious," he said "I will."<br />
<br />
So while I'm waiting for that to come true (and saving every penny for a house of our own), I'll just think back and remember the house of my dreams, the garden, the animals, The mountains, the pool, the kitchen, the meal, the wine and the salted caramels that we ate while sitting by the fire.<br />
<br />
<table style="width: auto;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/H297OVqU0Yrw1JnDLqtSJNMTjNZETYmyPJy0liipFm0?feat=embedwebsite"><img height="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIEt6sGXh0l6wo1hGx_JS458Ga11ATQpl78ZyU0Ur2KpqdDyfbTWB1238qWMIHdJBBLigJ4h9QHaembeVnwTg0ub9gR9MTQunRK8nv-lhRb6W4Lz6hiLOBMfm-5_f8EjRxDU6Zk2rU371S/s800/IMG_3107.JPG" width="800" /></a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
I took home a basket of loot when I left the next day. I came up with some fun recipes to make with the citrus fruit (yes mostly cocktails, so what?).<br />
<br />
<table style="width: auto;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/fi6pv0GlPqrvtkST-5lS9NMTjNZETYmyPJy0liipFm0?feat=embedwebsite"><img height="600" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7JuffkP8Ru4/TtLr8xl-fZI/AAAAAAAACKA/5VH1TWz7V6Y/s800/IMG_3073.JPG" width="800" /></a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br /></div>
</div>
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<br />
More to come...</div>Dorienhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12288864260867644585noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8426914867324535429.post-34280097393910082952011-11-02T12:41:00.000-07:002011-11-02T12:44:19.725-07:00Our Movie, Featured by Kickstarter!Lets all snuggle up and explore tricking women on the internets shall we?<br /><br /><iframe frameborder="0" height="311px" src="http://www.kickstarter.com/pages/romcomathon/widget.html" width="448px"></iframe>Dorienhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12288864260867644585noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8426914867324535429.post-25612403367249787632011-10-27T14:05:00.001-07:002011-10-27T14:05:51.339-07:00Something Beautiful<iframe src='http://www.nowness.com/media/embedvideo?itemid=1640&issueid=1691' width='500px' height='315px' frameborder='0'></iframe><p><a href="http://www.nowness.com/day/2011/10/17/1640/spike-jonze-mourir-aupres-de-toi">Spike Jonze: Mourir Auprès de Toi</a> on <a href="http://www.nowness.com">Nowness.com</a>.</p>Dorienhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12288864260867644585noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8426914867324535429.post-65966924662054352772011-10-22T11:09:00.000-07:002011-10-24T13:14:21.468-07:00Happy Place<div style="text-align: justify;">Now that we've wrapped the movie and are knee-deep into post-production, I'm finding myself with a lot of free time. It feels like college, right after finals, when you come home and don't really know what to do with your hands. It's fantastic, don't get me wrong, but as a person who prides herself on always moving, always working, always going... it's absurdly frustrating. I can only organize the kitchen, storage shed and costume closet so many times before I get all <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Stepford</span>-y and wanna' eat a pound of chocolate in the dark.<br /><br />So to beat my frustrations, between auditions, I walk sometimes and do yoga sometimes and pour a glass of wine at 4:00 most times. I'm trying to see this time as a mini vacation for the unwilling. A time where I am free to find inspiration for what's next. One thing that has been exciting me lately has been trolling through my photo cache. I've been rediscovering all these fertile memories and images of all kinds of happy places. I thought I'd share some of my fall favorites, maybe you need a happy place too...<br /></div><br /><table style="width: auto;"><tbody><tr><td><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/aXea8YIWvepvg6pe-Rpmiw?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OwqPo4V7FW4/TqW9yfSQ77I/AAAAAAAACEg/VcZOXgAfS24/s800/IMG_5049.JPG" height="600" width="800" /></a></td></tr></tbody></table>Nature's stained glass at Stanford<br /><br /><br /><table style="width: auto;"><tbody><tr><td><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/Efjm_B5ZnTVkzKNK3qgcoQ?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CqAUUoZye3I/TqMPbl56i-I/AAAAAAAACCw/J0x5y6mpRpI/s800/IMG_5019.jpg" height="800" width="600" /></a></td></tr></tbody></table>Public art by <a href="http://museum.stanford.edu/view/outdoor_sculpture.html">Andy <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Goldsworthy</span></a><br /><br /><br /><table style="width: auto;"><tbody><tr><td><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/PBKSmNwpO1GZKFHi24mK2w?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqGYHTD4swPLuVv_A2M7Zxsbglfu1whhipbaB8lMKvunCpoSiExb68Db4W28jKq7b4K3mWfKY22B-x8VXGw9T47evEcJ3pPScwsXw-a-C6Zela2LMyAYL610GCqsEKUxN-EKEfQK0FfW7d/s800/IMG_1838.JPG" height="600" width="800" /></a></td></tr></tbody></table>Dogs sitting in chairs.<br /><br /><br /><table style="width: auto;"><tbody><tr><td><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/-wD_2AyM2f42gZTd1f2Ahw?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsquUVjGc3vbzwy0qM-ierUi_IOdMPPLlOISdA2SI-fFXM2nC0PKyhwnWFmBDHUGI4EWhSHfvQhmH30MQO4TtyVJ0gk2ha-ROJiljQBf8fDGYgLtryaf2Sj3D4wVLTyGRcCURi1N7vsjC2/s800/IMG_7805.JPG" height="600" width="800" /></a></td></tr></tbody></table>Cheese counters everywhere.<br /><br /><br /><table style="width: auto;"><tbody><tr><td><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/u1vYG7l0uBv_SzUstMYmzw?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qeaEaqiIr48/TqW-ABfs_4I/AAAAAAAACE4/hU3W2hC8790/s800/IMG_4841.jpg" height="800" width="600" /></a></td></tr></tbody></table>Last year's Halloween costume (<a href="http://www.nickjr.com/kids/dora-the-explorer/">Dora</a> & <a href="http://www.nickjr.com/kids/go-diego-go/">Diego</a>).<br /><br /><br /><table style="width: auto;"><tbody><tr><td><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/LYkBYJy807l169fHYlaH1w?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HFECCaAFxCI/TqMQc4QiSmI/AAAAAAAACDM/la2mZvIGBPw/s800/IMG_7838.JPG" height="600" width="800" /></a></td></tr></tbody></table>The "<a href="http://www.bobbobricard.com/index.html">Press For Champagne</a>" button.<br /><br />Is it 4:00 yet?Dorienhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12288864260867644585noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8426914867324535429.post-87762636859547328952011-10-10T10:59:00.000-07:002011-10-24T13:12:22.261-07:00Almost Done<table style="width: auto;"><tbody><tr><td><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/g-_c05rPuD9lhKLoobNZjQ?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-le2aiRirTnM/TpM0JrlGOwI/AAAAAAAACCQ/5x8zqgDF9d4/s800/IMG_5296.JPG" height="600" width="800" /></a></td></tr></tbody></table><br />We've got one more weekend left to finish our movie "Missed Connections." We had a whirlwind three day weekend with 12 hour days and crazy public shoots, but for the most part, it all went smoothly. I keep finding myself sitting back and taking stock of what good fortune we've had. Our crew is simply amazing and our cast, has brought more to the script than we could have imagined.<br /><br />We've got a sweet new <a href="http://www.missedconnectionsmovie.com">website</a> and you can follow all of our progress on <a href="http://twitter.com/#%21/MissedConMovie">twitter</a>. If you'd like to see the movie or attend the wrap party visit us here at our new <a href="http://www.kickstarter.com/projects/982060345/missed-connections-round-two">fundraising page</a>.<br /><br />Thanks for all the love!Dorienhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12288864260867644585noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8426914867324535429.post-46124634106127165372011-10-05T11:32:00.000-07:002011-10-05T11:41:40.799-07:00My New HeroI came across <a href="http://gotye.com/"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Gotye's</span></a> music today. I love finding new music and thought I'd share. I bought his album and listened to is 5 times in a row. He's just wonderful and his process is inspiring here's a little <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">docu</span>-video...<br /><br /><iframe src="http://player.vimeo.com/video/26537415?title=0&byline=0&portrait=0" webkitallowfullscreen="" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="338" width="601"></iframe><br /><br />Enjoy the <a href="http://soundcloud.com/gotye">music</a>...Dorienhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12288864260867644585noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8426914867324535429.post-38484915042795302282011-09-09T13:07:00.000-07:002011-09-09T13:10:50.922-07:00Me, But AngryWatch both (I'm in the "BAD" one)...<br /><br /><iframe src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/452dVlRS58Q" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="345" width="560"></iframe><br /><br /><iframe src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/KvZkK_6JiO8" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="345" width="560"></iframe><br /><br />BTW- Nothing is more liberating than getting paid to act like a crazy person in the lobby of the MGM Grand.Dorienhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12288864260867644585noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8426914867324535429.post-56580458339404003862011-09-09T13:00:00.000-07:002011-09-09T13:02:35.857-07:00I Love ThisBecause it's true...<br /><br /><iframe src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/uAusmM0fhkc" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="345" width="560"></iframe>Dorienhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12288864260867644585noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8426914867324535429.post-75458589008367928242011-08-23T22:39:00.000-07:002011-08-23T22:45:52.750-07:00Street ArtOnly a few blocks from my house, I came across these stunning pieces of art. We live near the Culver City Arts District so I actually think this may be the exterior of a pop-up gallery, regardless, it's things like this that make life in a big city worth living...
<br />
<br /><table style="width: auto;"><tbody><tr><td><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/aXq93REyUIjfYRdwEjwNIA?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgALJJ3EWy4WAiQ9XAhRubNtRNS03227wovj-qH9Z4rVsYvXT7RNXdzVRSfnuijkY32X6Zz_qr-DhhQIaDv5UIT6Z3LrX5plmLT2MYfa9lBVfB_kJxvrj1Bd13EZsYawolmAnBRaWDjfUCy/s800/IMG_4725.JPG" height="600" width="800" /></a></td></tr></tbody></table>
<br />
<br /><table style="width: auto;"><tbody><tr><td><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/BgnOjHkJUYUn1CHti1K4DQ?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8bIE19o14UI/TlSNe1sWmLI/AAAAAAAACBE/EwkrG_rMed4/s800/IMG_4719.JPG" height="600" width="800" /></a></td></tr></tbody></table>
<br />Dorienhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12288864260867644585noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8426914867324535429.post-37629255578110625382011-08-22T11:58:00.000-07:002011-08-22T12:57:19.333-07:00Salt Water Sandals<div style="text-align: justify;">I had a pair of navy <a href="http://www.zappos.com/salt-water-sandal-by-hoy-shoes-salt-water-the-original-sandal-youth-adult%7E1">Salt Water Sandals</a> when I was a little girl. I wore them all the time.
<br /></div><table style="width: auto;"><tbody><tr><td><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/w6ctNe7vAWAMhiKLL3mjOQ?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hvM0nHmQmTY/TlKx-PbH1ZI/AAAAAAAACA8/0bBO2O4EPxU/s640/Navy%252520Saltwater%252520Sandals.jpg" height="570" width="640" /></a></td></tr></tbody></table> I was at an audition the other day and I saw them again. There were on a five year old girl with a pageboy <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">haircut</span>. She was running around the waiting room like her mother had given her too much sugar. A little <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">spaz</span>, with a bad haircut and no regard for decorum. It could have been me. I got nostalgic and I looked them up online and guess what? They make them in big-girl sizes. So I ordered a pair...
<br /><table style="width: auto;"><tbody><tr><td><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/-4T4Pm-VUpx8XVFSnOHj4g?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7jStJc4A79I/TlKnSX3q-aI/AAAAAAAACAo/byBF_3VMBPI/s800/White%252520Saltwater.jpg" height="360" width="480" /></a></td></tr></tbody></table>I know it's almost October, but I live in California and nobody really cares about the white after Labor Day thing any more. Don't judge me, they're awesome. I can't wait to put them on and run around my house like a maniac.
<br />Dorienhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12288864260867644585noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8426914867324535429.post-11520465652738565962011-08-16T16:20:00.000-07:002011-10-24T13:12:41.654-07:00Pho (I've missed you)So, I know it's been ages, but life sometimes takes you other places than your hobbies allow. I've been busy this Summer, lots of travel, weddings and of course making a movie takes up a lot of time and resources. So I've neglected you. It sucks, I know. Forgive me?<br /><br />Here, this may make it up to you<br /><br /><table style="width:auto;"><tr><td><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/dLQ988DK8PxEhAb3dML5yA?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0_rEt3bJvZc/TksC86yF3pI/AAAAAAAACAM/JtxSjOnXsgw/s800/IMG_3649.JPG" height="600" width="800" /></a></table><br /><br />It's my Summertime favorite, Pho. I've just read Anthony Bourdain's last two books and at one point he dedicated almost a whole chapter to the dish. While the man is crabby and seems to hate and then love everyone and everything, he has a way with words. I've eaten Pho many times before but somehow his devilish ways roped me right back in. If you don't know, it's actually pronounced 'phuh.' It's a Vietnamese soup with rice noodles, lime, basil, sprouts, chicken, beef, pork... whatever. You can add all kinds of spicy condiments to the broth to make it even more of what it is. And it's so much. It seems strange to want to eat this in the summer time but it actually, supposedly cools you off. You perspire a little, and as your body temperature rises, the differential between the outside temp and your body temp goes down, making you feel cooler. Or so they say. Regardless, most restaurants are air conditioned anyway and making sense of wanting soup in the Summer won't ever really happen. It's just good and you should eat it. I won't tell you where to go, because that's part of the fun of it all. Try starting <a href="http://www.yelp.com/search?find_desc=Pho&ns=1&find_loc=Los+Angeles">here</a>.<br /><br />I've missed you...DDorienhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12288864260867644585noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8426914867324535429.post-58985021200124212712011-04-18T16:30:00.000-07:002011-10-24T13:12:54.250-07:00Our MovieDearest ones... we're making a movie. The Husband wrote a remarkable script and we are throwing caution to the wind and doing it.<br /><br />It's about a man named Neil. A very unhappy man, who walks in on his girlfriend with his best friend. Neil has a breakdown/through, leaves his job, leaves his car in the parking lot and walks home. His friends teach him how to start tricking women on <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Craigslist</span> "Missed Connections" to help him bounce back. Neil ends up meeting a woman who gives him a run for his money. It's about damaged people, fate and love and the whole thing is hilarious. It's an ensemble with a bunch of our talented friends from <a href="http://friesontheside.com/">Fries On The Side</a> the <a href="http://www.groundlings.com/"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Groundlings</span></a>.<br /><br />I absolutely love the script. Wanna help?<br /><br /><iframe src="http://www.kickstarter.com/projects/982060345/missed-connections-0/widget/video.html" frameborder="0" height="410px" width="480px"></iframe><br /><br />Here goes nothing!Dorienhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12288864260867644585noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8426914867324535429.post-1586753764586776702011-04-10T21:16:00.000-07:002011-04-10T23:52:56.204-07:00Harissa Chicken Braised in Carrot Juice<table style="width: auto;"><tbody><tr><td><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/_8BDhkYn-DNV0HUuS_URrg?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kg7AUX3yKIM/TaKcBBP73pI/AAAAAAAABcI/OeQYaxzJ_50/s800/IMG_4334.JPG" height="600" width="800" /></a></td></tr></tbody></table><br />I made this today. It was inspired by my cousin <a href="http://debaucheryauxiliary.blogspot.com/2010/08/seattle-wedding-and-food.html">Liam</a>, who gave me this jar.<br /><table style="width: auto;"><tbody><tr><td><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/BvXMxT5u6ZWK9tPdrj_G8Q?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kg7AUX3yKIM/TaKbmJihCqI/AAAAAAAABbc/MDs4KzLVQqU/s800/IMG_4313.JPG" height="800" width="600" /></a></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Harissa</span> is a Tunisian chili sauce that has more flavor than heat (but still a little heat).<br /><table style="width: auto;"><tbody><tr><td><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/jmCMEsPsbvZWZKb338gy5Q?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kg7AUX3yKIM/TaKbVoOlZVI/AAAAAAAABaw/Zgpb0iWE2DY/s800/IMG_4311.JPG" height="600" width="800" /></a></td></tr></tbody></table><br />I had never heard of it until I tried the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Harissa</span> Rabbit <a href="http://tomdouglas.com/index.php?page=lola">Lola</a> in Seattle (the restaurant where Liam is an executive chef). He gave me the jar because I kept obsessing about how good it was. On his wedding night, his wife Audrey gave me a quick <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">harissa</span> tutorial (she's a chef too). So guys, here's what I came up with. I have to say, it impressed even me. I'm not bragging, I just surprised the hell out of myself when I tasted the final product. It has a sweet, spicy tang that reminded me of a mole or a really good <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">bbq</span> sauce (but not as sweet). This is beyond good.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Harissa</span> Chicken Braised in Carrot Juice</span><br />4 organic free range chicken thighs<br />1/2 large yellow onion diced<br />1 C chicken broth<br />3 t <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Harissa</span> (find a good one like <a href="http://www.mustaphas.com/index.php?_a=viewCat&catId=4"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Mustapha's</span></a>)<br />1 t ground cinnamon<br />1 t ground ginger<br />1 t ground cumin<br />1 1/2 C fresh carrot juice (if you have a juicer, hey, dust it off and get it working again)<br />1/4 C dried apricots diced<br />1/4 C golden raisins<br />1/2 C quartered <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">crimini</span> mushrooms (optional)<br />1/4-1/2 t kosher salt<br />Pepper<br /><br />Season chicken thighs with salt and pepper and place them in a hot enameled cast iron dutch oven. Brown both sides. It takes about 4 minutes on each side. Let it get some good color.<br /><table style="width: auto;"><tbody><tr><td><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/L03KSKOb7AEkpElDu99N_Q?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kg7AUX3yKIM/TaKbBqueaGI/AAAAAAAABaE/q6NByDkfyPc/s800/IMG_4303.JPG" height="600" width="800" /></a></td></tr></tbody></table><br />Remove the chicken and add your onions to the chicken fat. Add a few tablespoons of chicken broth to release the brown bits on the bottom of the pan.<br /><table style="width: auto;"><tbody><tr><td><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/ULES7YmDZ29k9fAxam56RA?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kg7AUX3yKIM/TaKbFYluNhI/AAAAAAAABaQ/GBotVlLrhFg/s800/IMG_4305.JPG" height="600" width="800" /></a></td></tr></tbody></table><br />When almost translucent and all the liquid has evaporated add the spices (cinnamon, cumin, ginger and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">harissa</span>). Cook for just a little while until the pan is drier and the spices are toasted.<br /><table style="width: auto;"><tbody><tr><td><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/4exEuTcj2F3RGZUdkk0aTg?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kg7AUX3yKIM/TaKbUX9sc6I/AAAAAAAABao/ChpTyuS872I/s800/IMG_4308.JPG" height="600" width="800" /></a></td></tr></tbody></table><br />Add the carrot juice, the rest of the chicken broth and salt to taste (don't put in too much salt because you are going to reduce the sauce). Bring to a boil.<br /><table style="width: auto;"><tbody><tr><td><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/9ZLMOOTePHhvxQbYg8OCJg?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kg7AUX3yKIM/TaKblx0-9AI/AAAAAAAABbQ/ufXeFYm-f2s/s800/IMG_4318.JPG" height="600" width="800" /></a></td></tr></tbody></table><br />Add chicken back to the pot with apricots, raisins and mushrooms.<br /><table style="width: auto;"><tbody><tr><td><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/9I6TmhQkcHkwv8BHcPplOg?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kg7AUX3yKIM/TaKb1ji9ngI/AAAAAAAABb0/R40o1C5WHSw/s800/IMG_4322.JPG" height="600" width="800" /></a></td></tr></tbody></table><br />Cover and simmer until chicken is cooked completely (10-20 minutes). Remove everything but the liquid. I strained the veg and pieces out with a strainer.<br /><table style="width: auto;"><tbody><tr><td><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/uSqgxDHbxha9xYpJ-fVDSg?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kg7AUX3yKIM/TaKb5h9jU0I/AAAAAAAABb8/5jXskdz8dJA/s800/IMG_4325.JPG" height="600" width="800" /></a></td></tr></tbody></table><br />Reduce sauce until it's thick and viscus (don't skip this part).<br /><table style="width: auto;"><tbody><tr><td><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/YItV379P46pVEMU1r5G4RA?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_qAOXj9017r1gRjyx_n0VUx2Y2leNQlsr9JajdCB_0HLgKB9KRgAOkG8FyEp6vku7fvPsR_5Y2wIsk-3e3vtrwclO1tjqfo5ucTlyluNt4vrBQblGRcndGQllZ6SxO7VR8K0w0u-YNGUl/s800/IMG_4329.JPG" height="600" width="800" /></a></td></tr></tbody></table><br />Once sauce is to your liking (coating the back of a fork) return chicken, veg and fruit to the sauce to coat.<br /><table style="width: auto;"><tbody><tr><td><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/CNZniRfZil_sTDwgVI6PDA?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kg7AUX3yKIM/TaKcECPBgaI/AAAAAAAABcU/yvQUly7-wMo/s800/IMG_4330.JPG" height="600" width="800" /></a></td></tr></tbody></table><br />Serve over <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">cous</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">cous</span>.<br /><table style="width: auto;"><tbody><tr><td><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/w3SdUw36CKrcNTk8IkEFXA?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kg7AUX3yKIM/TaKcF8QfWFI/AAAAAAAABcc/G6AT1wB_l3o/s800/IMG_4341.JPG" height="600" width="800" /></a></td></tr></tbody></table>Please understand, I am considering raiding The Husband's lunch for tomorrow so I can eat the last piece of this. Oh, he would be so mad...but I would be so happy.Dorienhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12288864260867644585noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8426914867324535429.post-63163351345310616712011-04-02T15:25:00.000-07:002011-10-24T13:13:22.010-07:00Hipster PuppiesMy husband came home laughing. He looked sweaty and red and absolutely had "to show me this hilarious website." I'll admit, I was skeptical. I mean, he loves a lot of things that I don't; ESPN, Bro Comedies, Nick Cage...<br /><br />But then he showed me the blog "Hipster Puppies" and I just about peed my pants. It's basically people taking silly pictures of their tortured pets and adding some kind of hipster, popular culture reference as a caption.<br /><br />Then, we turned the TV off and spent a few hours dressing our dog up in stupid outfits. It was probably one of the funniest things we've done with her (she was surprisingly willing to submit to our degradations). They didn't use our submission but I'll share our favorite with you. Seems a shame to waste such brilliance...<br /><br /><table style="width: auto;"><tbody><tr><td><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/RlF5XLC2tUEpKPp0FO_qAg?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kg7AUX3yKIM/TZekNkMXTOI/AAAAAAAABZY/H_6aaKO5j3M/s800/IMG_4068.JPG" height="600" width="800" /></a></td></tr></tbody></table><br />Bikram really kicked Zoe's ass today.<br /><br />Enjoy - <a href="http://hipsterpuppies.tumblr.com/">Hipster Puppies</a>Dorienhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12288864260867644585noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8426914867324535429.post-82641571432067958192011-03-17T08:51:00.001-07:002011-03-17T09:34:29.529-07:00Nomad Chef Secret Dinner<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs7R0FKDinBGxEQT7DA8cndj5gWfnDtPwoPa3RMhIbhYdholoEhEIXvpPzUeGX1exM2tmKHQQ4PEc-A3LsNHjVAqd8WXBIUpZeTbaLUKanaYoIiM1wW39-PPCXBiea_EAeZ4Jo70oxeGFs/s1600/ww11-secret.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs7R0FKDinBGxEQT7DA8cndj5gWfnDtPwoPa3RMhIbhYdholoEhEIXvpPzUeGX1exM2tmKHQQ4PEc-A3LsNHjVAqd8WXBIUpZeTbaLUKanaYoIiM1wW39-PPCXBiea_EAeZ4Jo70oxeGFs/s400/ww11-secret.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5585088040493780418" border="0" /></a>When we were in London last May, we were invited to a <a href="http://www.facebook.com/home.php#%21/pages/Nomad-Chef/263021944440">Nomad Chef Secret Dinner</a>. It's a sort of a pop up restaurant that is held in a beautiful home in Notting Hill. Twenty strangers and a few regulars come together for one night of brilliant, themed food and company. The last time we went it was Cinco de Mayo and we had four courses of Mexican wonderful, including a lovely mole, empanadas and killer margaritas. Not a small feat when you are all the way across the Atlantic ocean. That night we met people from all over Europe, most of whom had heard about the dinners through word of mouth and blogs but had never met before. It was by far one of the best meals we had on our vacation but the company was my absolute favorite. It's no wonder it sells out every week.<br /><br />So now that you know the deal, here's the secret... There is going to be a Nomad Chef Secret Dinner in Beverly Hills on March 26th. The theme is the Kubrick film "Eyes Wide Shut." Get your head out of the gutter, it's not a crazy sex party, just a meal of passionate food and drink. You won't be disappointed. The Chef has also hired a musician for live music all night. You can read more about it on the <a href="http://www.facebook.com/home.php#%21/event.php?eid=101701703245871">facebook event page</a> or just buy your <a href="http://nomadmouthswideshut26mar.eventbrite.com/">tickets here</a> (it's just a donation to cover food costs). For those of you who are tight on funds, I have a secret chef-secret code to knock off a lot of those bucks. If you want it, leave a message in the comment box and I'll email it to you.<br /><br />By the way, I know the secret menu, ooooooo, this is going to be good! Bring a bottle of wine and someone you love and come out and have one of the best nights ever. See you there!Dorienhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12288864260867644585noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8426914867324535429.post-74946861847668239412011-02-05T19:21:00.000-08:002011-02-05T20:29:55.926-08:00TzadsikiHere it is! You all kept asking for this but then I lost the recipe. And now it is found. I usually just make this to taste, but lord knows, if you've never eaten the stuff before, you won't know the goodness of Greek <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Tzdsiki</span> without a dang recipe.<br /><table style="width: auto;"><tbody><tr><td><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/QYJIH7pkK_kQ6qPw7XNE_g?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kg7AUX3yKIM/TU4ZJPtsr_I/AAAAAAAABXc/94wxdaxpoOA/s800/IMG_2033.JPG" height="600" width="800" /></a></td></tr></tbody></table><br />Now, my godmother makes her own Greek yogurt by straining regular yogurt with a cheese cloth over the sink until it's nice and thick. Me, I buy the stuff from Trader Joe's. Her <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Tzadsiki</span> is the best, but hey, I can only do so much.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Tzadsiki</span></span><br />1 Cup full fat Greek yogurt<br />1 Cup grated/peeled European cucumbers<br />1 Small clove garlic pressed through a garlic press<br />Sprinkle of dried dill<br />pinch or two of salt<br /><br />Peel a half of a cucumber and grate on a box grater. Wash your hands and squeeze the grated cucumber over the sink to get rid of a lot of the moisture.<br /><table style="width: auto;"><tbody><tr><td><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/Pdi2KUX1fnms7mYDJV7Fhg?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kg7AUX3yKIM/TU4TSwh3r1I/AAAAAAAABWk/QKX2tQgPu0E/s800/IMG_2028.JPG" height="800" width="600" /></a></td></tr></tbody></table><br />In a small bowl mix together all the ingredients. Salt to taste.<br /><table style="width: auto;"><tbody><tr><td><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/WtYHabj4lDx2kYoxqguuYg?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kg7AUX3yKIM/TU4TTGy5ABI/AAAAAAAABWo/HJhPPaVPdWs/s800/IMG_2030.JPG" height="600" width="800" /></a></td></tr></tbody></table><br />Top with a sprinkle of dill and paprika and serve this with pita or <a href="http://debaucheryauxiliary.blogspot.com/2010/12/greek-turkey-meatballs.html">Turkey Meat Balls</a>.<br /><table style="width: auto;"><tbody><tr><td><a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/av3Un2_9-R2G2-vfctvkFg?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYYEEzVlQWU3Ai7HCzLiPZ6mCW5IxJR0gDUkTwiMRdwQGoSQPTf6Eyr3UcuVFyK7-LHJjWt-Md4HOFyOe4NZCnrGVKke1rXN1P0_5peIjWnzN54CeN9jUuKQKSglxJLFhbHGFuqnvrmKBx/s800/IMG_2037.JPG" height="800" width="600" /></a></td></tr></tbody></table><br />I bet you never knew something so good could be so simple. And now you do.Dorienhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12288864260867644585noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8426914867324535429.post-28423714965972562862011-01-04T21:47:00.000-08:002011-01-04T23:25:37.842-08:00Dog Beach<table style="width: auto;"><tbody><tr><td><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/1GjR4ro99dy_vv047XgwMQ?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kg7AUX3yKIM/TSQCn6w-wuI/AAAAAAAABSs/Gwqy9Y7_9xM/s800/IMG_2130.JPG" height="600" width="800" /></a></td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;">My dog is my best friend. I love her in a crazy, borderline unhealthy, I wish I could take her everywhere, kind of way. Don't get me wrong, she doesn't sleep in my bed, she's not allowed on the furniture, she's totally trained and is never fed from the table. I don't spoil her, just with love. So, so much crazy love.<br /><br />She's almost 11 now and her hips aren't what they used to be. Her thyroid isn't working like it used too and she has terrible arthritis. But here, on the beach, on any beach, you'd never know.<br /></div><table style="width: auto;"><tbody><tr><td><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/KwN14LJemI7q98hFuRzaWA?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9wjWYx9v3mF0soDAEfAKIT9gcyjy5MXK-pwoBrDBCk-7-r6M68CwLUfEk8jkI1_z6Mc47UZquIFZARDL8S8yFlPb-74sKhCHubCQ_lysOPMMSLJfuCiqC5ijnJPvzywicgC5opEA07wKh/s800/IMG_2243.JPG" height="600" width="800" /></a></td></tr></tbody></table>Here, she's a puppy...<br /><table style="width: auto;"><tbody><tr><td><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/8Szm8k1xHX-UZB8rXvHvGA?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kg7AUX3yKIM/TSQCosIkJyI/AAAAAAAABS4/HdipPKxtV3c/s800/IMG_2172.JPG" height="600" width="800" /></a></td></tr></tbody></table>...and a fetch machine...<br /><table style="width: auto;"><tbody><tr><td><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/5y3f8aG27XhUX0nv2uDHmg?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCTA3UNJn1-CCFFVZbxd9tQFUIYm9oi7zshleOzuS9Ev2rSTu9fzDJHvgygTjEZ6ykxfqzVSQHzL18hIEBLwy9S8MLsv5hQA3YOiVMEV2kpNmX6Jj_rdNn1l60MydH0OUDpaVFFSFB1UNm/s800/IMG_2207.JPG" height="600" width="800" /></a></td></tr></tbody></table>..and a water beast...<br /><table style="width: auto;"><tbody><tr><td><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/k8ORghBm438rXHqqSItN4A?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kg7AUX3yKIM/TSQCoQGPPZI/AAAAAAAABS0/XBzb623pNpY/s800/IMG_2157.JPG" height="600" width="800" /></a></td></tr></tbody></table>...and a ball of salty, dirty boundless energy.<br /><table style="width: auto;"><tbody><tr><td><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/23-ka6K62rFlYot7FRRQGQ?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kg7AUX3yKIM/TSQFmwct4aI/AAAAAAAABTk/bjjR0Wbo1Mw/s800/IMG_2219.JPG" height="600" width="800" /></a></td></tr></tbody></table>Here, she is the happiest. So here we come. As much as we can.<br /><table style="width: auto;"><tbody><tr><td><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/73LcITZeH1xsj-ohMA9mLw?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kg7AUX3yKIM/TSQFnKoy6ZI/AAAAAAAABTo/dRs9XxGSfzc/s800/IMG_2224.JPG" height="600" width="800" /></a></td></tr></tbody></table>And it makes us happy too.<br /><table style="width: auto;"><tbody><tr><td><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/ulIIlc8FNtFepLwqxxB4Sw?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJaxKM-bkSAlnvFvRZgS1MeypKhGY7C0MO_lZa3xlPsJtIhn1wZC33dZ-nfN-D8j9ecmtzDJHYUCwoszeamNRMxaMtADVFW0Dp3WhxBtiR5WWpMrAIlTlv_tXjBZ6fQ1lbWpycth90PxqS/s800/IMG_2237.JPG" height="600" width="800" /></a></td></tr></tbody></table>Because it's beautiful and she's beautiful and because we love her.<br /><table style="width: auto;"><tbody><tr><td><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/SPMAEhcnjNB57vu7924bSQ?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kg7AUX3yKIM/TSQFnySnCsI/AAAAAAAABT0/fWdNxnHg_kc/s800/IMG_2254.JPG" height="600" width="800" /></a></td></tr></tbody></table>In that crazy, I want to take her everywhere, kind of way.Dorienhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12288864260867644585noreply@blogger.com2