Category Archives: humor


I should probably take better care of the things that I love, but often those become the items that get the most disheveled and worn out.

Some of my errant doodles, and postcards I’ve had for over a decade

My favorite carpet (okay, my only carpet)

My (terrifyingly cluttered) office space. (Yes, I know it needs work.)

Part of my Rachel Comey shoe collection (the loafers, the red suede heels, and the pink leather heels) interspersed with well-worn thrifted purchases

My favorite (very wrinkled) Debbie Carlos poster, creased in so many places that it doesn’t lay flat anymore

The best Ermie dress (better images of it soon), and one of my favorite (funniest) photos of me and Adam, taken at La Baie. It’s one of the best presents ever given to me, in which we spent an afternoon with the department store’s extremely enthusiastic photographer, and tried to see just how completely dorky and ridiculous we can look. I was really into the whole “man standing behind the woman in a pensive embrace.”



Photos from the wedding are starting to roll in, and this one was snapped by Anna Simonak during my maid-of-honor speech (amazingly, Anna, the photographer Meredith hired, used to be one of my old interns at the Ithaca Times back when she was an Ithaca College student! Ah, memories. Also, I’m old).

I styled my $30 dress with a vintage leather belt I bought in Singapore, my most comfortable Rachel Comey heels, and a heart-shaped ring that I bought at Catbird a million years ago, strung on a delicate chain. Oh, and if you can believe it, just a few hours earlier my hair was full of bouncy, corkscrew curls (my inspiration was Cher’s hair in the final wedding scene of Clueless), but sadly my stupid Asian hair refuses to hold a curl. I am, however, digging the unintentional all-pink vibe of the lipstick, flower, nails, and champagne. I have no problem being a walking advertisement for all things blush-hued.

More photos here, and I’ll upload some of my own this weekend!

[Also, did anyone else see this article on Refinery29 and feel their heart skip a beat? I totally grew up with that movie and secretly love its cheesy witchy vibes. Nicky’s never looked better. That fiery hair!]


Is this photo totally hilarious to anyone else?? Because I can’t stop laughing. The story is that my friend Kristen had already eaten dinner, but she came over to hang out anyway. I plated her a mini-dinner so she could still snack with us, and what resulted was the most preposterous-looking plate of food that I’ve ever had the pleasure of concocting.

One tiny boiled parsnip half with half a teaspoon of red wine and mushroom reduction; one chunk of tender venison stew; exactly one sliver of pan-fried mushroom; three baby haricot verts, poached in chicken broth; one skinny strip of sauteed guanciale. Dinner is served!


My rad and talented friend Bartek released the second episode of his food show Culinary Propaganda. It is SIMPLY AMAZING. Watch and enjoy, comrades.


I recently “commissioned” my talented and awesome friend Gigi Kaufman to do the first ever portrait of me and Joni. I am so stoked with the results. She really nailed it. I mean, my hair is exactly like that! My friend Alison said it best: “It’s how I imagine you guys would interact if she had opposable thumbs and drank alcohol.”

See more of her work here.


As much as I love running my own kitchen, there are few greater pleasures than having a meal entirely cooked for you. Upon our return from the Oregon coast, I was exhausted + implored to simply sit at the kitchen table and eat creamy French cheeses from Pastaworks while watching the chaos surrounding the task of boiling two pounds of live, extremely cranky crayfish. So happy to not have to help. The recipe in question was Richard Olney’s classic crayfish salad with fresh dill — or salade d’Ecrevisses a l’Aneth — from his thrilling tome, The French Menu Cookbook. In typical Olney style, the directions for preparing live crayfish were ambiguous and detached. He makes it seem so easy:

Starting with the largest, rinse the crayfish, and remove the intestine of each, grasping the animal just above the point at which the pincers join the body, to avoid being pinched — or holding it with a towel for protection, and with an abrupt motion to either side, tear loose the central fin from the tail fan, then pull gently in order to slip out the attached intestinal tract without breaking it.”

It seemed unusually cruel (and technically difficult) to rip out the crayfish’s little intestines while still writhing in the air, so after a few failed attempts we just tossed the crayfish in a huge pot of bubbling water, and then performed surgery on the cooked crustaceans. Still messy. Equally difficult was preparing the dressing, which required the carapaces (heads, claws, legs and coral) to be pounded in a stone mortar into a coarse puree. Yeah right. Even a few turns in the food processor produced nothing more than a spiky, thin sauce, but it was enough to produce a highly flavorful dressing. In any case, this was one of the best salads I have ever had, and as full as we were, we managed to cap the meal off with a tiny chocolate and hazelnut mousse called ‘The Royale’ from Pix.


Don’t you love it when your brain works in unknowing synchronicity with itself? The power of consistent thought, or being drawn to the same sort of things, over and over, without even knowing it — patterns of aesthetic, or maybe just taste. I recently reorganized my closet and was humbled by the overpowering amount of chambray. How did I never notice? Similarly, it wasn’t until well after I returned home from the farmer’s market that I realized that absolutely every item in my canvas bag was a deep, ominous shade of gothy purple-black. Burgundy beans. Black cherry tomatoes. Black baby artichokes. Purple scallions. A dish of ripe figs. Several avocados. I was unpacking my bag, pulling out each scarlet item one by one, and noticing a somber trend. I guess I was feeling moody?