Fal-ling for Falafels.

I eat at least two falafels a week. Sometimes two a day. That’s because they are cheap, reasonably healthy, and amazingly delicious.

I discovered the headiness that we call falafel while backpacking around Amsterdam several years ago. When I bit into my first Maoz  falafel I fell in love. This wasn’t because I was stoned on amazing bud — good weed doesn’t make you hungry, duh– but because it was so fresh and so flavorful. Along with falafel balls you can add from the salad bar: fried eggplant, hummus, tabbouleh, carrots, broccoli, chickpeas, olives, pickles, cabbage, coleslaw, and an array of sauces. Though this wasn’t the traditional Middle Eastern falafel, it was a definitive moment in my pita-stuffed obsession.

Now in New York City, you can  find a falafel on almost every corner. Here is a list of the best (according to moi):

Oasis — North 7th at Bedford in Williamsburg. The standard, but always fresh, stuffed with plenty of cabbage and pickles. The hot sauce is just the right amount of hot. Get this with a ginger beer and you’re in for a party. Don’t mess with the staff though, they can be major assholes.  $3 for sandwich

Mamoons– St. Marks between 2nd and 3rd. I go here after yoga when I need to be satiated. They are known for their falafel balls, which are  perfectly crispy on the outside, and soft and flavorful on the inside. Stay away from the hot sauce, unless you are into not tasting anything. The mango juice is tasty too for a dollar.   $2.50 for sandwich

Olive Valley–Bogart street in Bushwick. Finally a falafel place in my neighborhood…wahooo. Their falafel platter is perfect for the hungry woman, but the art on the walls makes me hurl. The $6 platter comes with 2 pitas, 5 falafel balls, baba ganoush, hummus, onions, pickles, cabbage, lettuce, pickled daikon, and sauces.  Mmmm….

Honorable mention:  Moshi’s falafel truck (usually parked on 17th street near 5th avenue) and, of course, Maoz (Union Sq. E).

Places I hear are delicious but have yet to try: Taim (Waverly Place near 7th ave) and Azuri (w 51st st).

peace, love, falafel.

Painting optimistically.

I dated a painter several months back. Funny thing is, most of my friends didn’t even know. That is because he was–as I liked to refer to him–an “Emosapien.” An Emosapien is someone who bases their life on pessimistic tendencies, as if that were a requirement in order to be a decent artist. He was “sad”. Not to mention, he had a people-phobia and a penchant for tight pants and bad Chinese food. Being involved in his life during a series of works, I saw that his placement of paint and color were always painfully intentional, and the emotion and beauty of his work came from the despairing way he viewed life at the time. For example, “Text Message to Chloe”, (painting to right) was created after he DJed to a completely empty dance floor…life altering? Anywho, looking back on this brief stint, I got to thinking about artists, and how life –how they chose to lead it– reflects upon their work.

Diego Gravinese is a photo-realistic painter from Buenos Aires. His paintings are so real they look fake; like there was a plastic coating on life. Along with the intricate realism of the people he portrays (mostly women), some of his less recent paintings juxtapose pop imagery such as cartoons, illustrations, shapes, and maps.

Diego and I are Facebook friends. Welcome to 2009! It’s a little bit absurd when you think about it, but being “friends” also allows me to look into the life of a painter who I otherwise would never meet. Along with posting photos of his paintings’ progress, I also see his real life: his friends, his ‘moods’ (status), and his relationship with a woman, Panda, who he is madly in love with. I am not a stalker, but I am interested, as pointed out before, in how artists lives genuinely affect their work. It seems to me that Diego’s life is pretty fucking great, though not more fantastical or more exciting than yours or mine…he seems, ya know, normal. Normal is a word that’s not usually accepted in the artist Dictionary, but normal doesn’t have to be boring. His most recent work portrays his love, Panda, ( Who, I know, lives all the way in Australia), and is inspired –if not obsessed– by her quirkiness. She is so outrageously adorable, and he wants the viewers to know this. He is happy, and wants viewers to know this. I love work like this because it hides nothing, but doesn’t try to say more than it is. Beautiful, colorful, and full of life. A happy life… Isn’t that what we are all after anyway?

^ A picture of a picture. Panda and the painter in action, “The Method.”

A work in process. “Pool Panda” :

More Diego

Delicious Homemade Lunch (Operation Move: part 1).

It is incredibly tempting to forego a trip to the supermarket, avoid the process of putting together a meal, and order $12 sushi for lunch.  Buying lunch can set you at least $250 deep each month, which could be slashed by sucking it up and making your own.  Moving out of my railroad-style apartment means paper baggin’ it.

Aside from cutting costs, making your own lunch is far healthier– you cut out tons of preservatives, sugars, oils, and, thus, calories. The trick, though, is to prepare food that you really want to eat. So I started making a list of 3 different lunches a week (look on tastespotting for ideas) which could be altered each day, and even used for some dinners. Then I shop like the French do, and go to Trader Joe’s for prepared foods, breads, snacks, canned goods and condiments; to the Union Square GreenMarket for fish and in-season produce; Bodega for Boars Head meat (the factory is in my hood!); and the Italian-owned vegetable store on Knickerbocker for fruit, vegetables, olives, and Italian cheeses.

Some of my favorite sandwiches (all costing under $5):

* Goat cheese, arugula, avocado, and magical mix (chopped celery, walnuts, and xvoo),on hearty 12 grain (adapted from ‘witchcraft).

* Light (on the mayo) egg salad with basil and red-leaf lettuce on pumpernickel (with things like soft bread and mayonnaise-based salads, I always bring the items separately and make the sandwich at work).

* Garlic hummus, baby spinach, roasted red peppers and sprouts on a spinach wrap.

*Honey turkey, coleslaw, and swiss on rye (adapted from Eisenberg’s Sandwich Shop).

*Heirloom (when in season) tomatoes, sharp cheddar, cilantro, very little mayo, and s&p on wheat.

*Tuna with celery, parsley and romaine on a big-ass roll.

*Lauren’s Shrimp Salad:

1/2  lb shrimp (blanched for 2 minutes in boiling water) chopped

1 piece chopped celery

Handful chopped cilantro

Handful chopped onion

Mayo, lemon juice, salt and pepper to taste.

 

Mix up and place it in container to marinade overnight. Good for 3 sandwiches!

More homemade lunch ideas to come. Here’s to saving moola.

Something to get off my chest: Public Nail Clippers

There are few things that truly gross me out. I can handle blood, loonies on the L train (there are TONS), breast-feeding in public, and the garbage-urine smell of  particularly warm days in New York. But one thing that really, REALLY grosses me out to the point of gag reflex is when people cut their fingernails in public.

I speak of this because in the past month I have come in contact with two separate situations where I almost lost my lunch: 1) I was on the L train during rush-hour and a woman pulls out her pink, glittery clippers and starts going at it. Mind you, there were lots of people on the train, and these nails were flying all over the place. If I had gotten hit with one of those things I probably would have kicked her in the face. Not only is this loud, but you are literally littering a public stomping space with your dirty, used, DNA! Put it away lady! 2) I was sitting in the park during my lunch hour, enjoying a wrap and listening to a decent rendition of “All You Need Is Love” when “clip! clip! clip!” flows into my left ear. No way! Really? You are clipping your nails on a park bench!? You honestly can tell me you don’t have 2 minutes during your time at home to do this in private? I look to my left and, lo and behold, there is a sketchy dude bopping his head and clipping his nails to the beat. My happy mood is usually hard to stomp, but this really hurt my soul.

So, I wasted your time with this rant in hopes that it will reach the right person. Maybe you know someone who does this disgusting act in public, and can send it along to them? Maybe it will reach the un-assuming eyes of ‘pink-glitter girl’ and ‘sketchy dude’, and our wonderful word will be rid of two more Public Nail Clippers. Thanks and The End.

C is for Cookies.

At my 1st birthday party I acquired a taste for pesto, shrimp cocktail, and pasta with red pepper sauce. I would not even touch the cake. In fact, I’ve never really liked soda or chocolate either. I know! Oh my gosh, I’m a woman who doesn’t care for chocolate! It was not until this year, the ripe age of 23, that my sweet tooth properly formed. Now I can’t seem to get enough…COOKIES.  Holy hell, cookies are freaking amazing.

Anywho. Two nights ago, after yoga, I was walking down 1st Avenue in the pouring rain when it dawned on me that a) it was 4/20, b) Veniero’s bakery was around the corner and c) Veniero’s bakery was around the corner. So I did anything that a rain-soaked, cookie-loving, about to be weed-smoking person like myself would have done: Buy some cookies. My favorite at Veniero’s are $6 /pound, which can become a bit dangerous. Cookies should never be sold by the pound, but alas! I purchased the Lemon Drops, which are a collision between biscuits and butter cookies, which are then dipped in a fresh lemony glaze.

Veniero’s  is located on 11th Street, right around the corner from 1st Avenue. They sell a plethora of desserts such as cheesecake, strawberry shortcake, biscotti, and canolli. If you can add 2 plus 2, you know this bakery is Italian; and if you know me, you know that my one regret in life is that I was not born Italian.

These Lemon Drop cookies go fabulously with peppermint tea (a natural appetite suppressant, so maybe you’ll ‘eat just one’), or my favorite sleep-inducing drink: warm frothy milk with cinnamon and a pinch of brown sugar….mmmm, happy eating!!!

Yoga to the Broke.

The gym is boring, smelly and, worst of all, expensive as hell. In this city you can pay upwards of $130/month and find yourself running on the treadmill squeezed in between a straight ‘roid head clothed in a purple spandex suit and a chick in full-makeup who weighs as much as your left thigh. Because of this (no $), I have made the rounds through a variety of exercise regimes for the past 2 years: running the streets (too distracting/ hard on feet), boxing in the park (bartered training for headshots…fun but would be expensive), YMCA gym pass (Ewww!), and so on…This was until I discovered the wonderful world of Yoga. Thank you Bekim Trenova.

Yoga to the People is located on Saint Marks Place @ Cooper Square. It’s a little (a lot) overwhelming at first. You walk upstairs with a herd of NYU students named Brooke, kick off your shoes, and enter into a muggy cloud of sweat. This sounds horrible, yes, but it quickly passes. Once you’re on the mat, the hour is yours. I was a shy beginner just 5 months ago, but never felt lost. The space is full enough that you can make your mistakes without embarrassment, but small enough that the teacher will catch your errors and help if necessary. Now, several month later, fairly advanced in yoga technique, I still find the classes challenging. The style of Yoga here is Power Vinyasa Flow, which helps you work up a sweat, focus on breathing, balance, flexibility AND strength.

Yoga class has helped me both physically and emotionally. I am stronger, more flexible, and more centered–and have done it without spending outrageous amounts of money. Yoga to the People is supported by DONATION. This means you can pay anything. If you’re feeling frisky one day throw in a $20; but until then, pay what you can and find peace in New York City.

SIDE NOTE: Yoga cannot be your only form of exercise. Do not be fooled. Cardio is necessary to lose weight if this is your goal. I personally want to keep myself toned and solid…and get rid of that beer gut for summer. If you have a little extra cash, my friend gives a killer bootcamp in Central Park on Saturday mornings. Go to Mind Over Matter, NYC or ask me for more information.

Bushwick (art), represent.

Welcome to Bushwick, Brooklyn: The home of bodegas, reggae-ton, construction and art. In just two years, there has been an overwhelming change in the face of this neighborhood.  There are coffee shops filled with art (my favorite being the Orwell Cafe), a handful of restaurants, and plenty of art galleries boasting the fresh talent of this hood and others (learn about galleries). I cannot tell you how exciting it is to live in a neighborhood before it has become “cute.”  Do not forget that there was a time, not so long ago, when Williamsburg was VERY dangerous, and when you were more likely to find a dirty syringe than a boutique in the Lower East Side.

Since moving to New York my personal photography has morphed from very composed pop portraits to a mix of life and urban landscapes. I have found some of the most fascinating things to photograph in my very own backyard–or more realistically, my very own garbage heap (Bushwick is wonderful, but it ain’t pristine). The color palette, row houses, and both destruction and construction create a new landscape.  

Within these images there is a vast array of street art which, you may or may not know, is HUGE in the art world right now (Banksy, Shepard Fairey!). Decorating the walls of Bushwick you can find C215, Swoon, Faile, Jef Aerosol and other up-and-comers. Making a name for themselves, each of these artists (yes, ARTISTS) has a technique so unique that it is impossible to pass them by. Look out!  –> bushwick art (my photos will be updated frequently)

Thinking about moving to Bushwick? Here’s some more info: Bushwick

Your carbon footprint.

“Green is the new black”. This saying pretty much sums up what our culture’s idea of “being green” is. Being Eco-friendly has finally become cool. Which I believe, sadly, was necessary to drive the idea home to everybody (i.e. those who still think People Magazine is a book). The problem is that, instead of people ACTUALLY “being green”, they put on what I am coining as a “green front”. Yes, you wear a shirt that says recycle. But you don’t. You carry around a tote bag stuffed with plastic bags from various stores. You even pay the $1 at Trader Joes (<–yes please!) for a cute shopping tote, but leave it at home the next time you go shopping.  You leave lights on when you’re not in the room! I could go on forever–like nuclear waste.

My roommate (Rachel) and I had a joint Resolution in 2009. It was going to be our duty to make the littlest carbon footprint we possibly could. I too used to have a green front-but no longer! A few tips that have helped us stay greener, and actually saved us mad loot (yes, some are obvious, get over it):

1) Replace all regular bulbs with the energy saving bulbs. You can buy these at Home Depot for about $7/3 pack. I used to hate these because the light was bluish, but now they come in 3 different shades- the cheapest being the warmest color! This has helped us cut electric by MORE THAN HALF.

2) Do not keep AC’s plugged in unless they are in use (or unless the plug is so out of the way that it becomes a burden). It is a fact that AC’s exhaust the most energy when they aren’t even being used. You can do this with cell phone chargers too. We also have all computer plugs attached to a single power strip, and simply turn off the switch when it’s not in use! Your computer does not need to be on when you are not home, you lazy bugger.

3) We reuse plastic bags a lot. Do not underestimate! We also wash and use jars and plastic containers to bring food to work or to store chopped veggies, sauces, etc.

4) SIGG WATER-BOTTLE. Plastic water-bottles fuck shit up. (www.sigg.com)

5) Actually Recycle. I know this is hard, because (disturbingly) something like half of the buildings in New York do not recycle–mine (office) being one of them. There are a few things you can do here: a) At work: Have a scrap paper bin. We use the backs of paper when printing out Castings and E-mails. Saves the trees, saves the dough. Also, write threatening letters to your douche-bag landlords. b) At home: Talk to your landlord about recycling. Luckily in Bushwick they ticket offenders! But you could ask him/her to make sure there are enough recycling bins, and to put them in a place where people on the street can’t throw in their morning ‘yoddle’ wrappers. Fatties.

6) No Television. Yes, we rid ourselves of TV,  and it feels oh so good. Aside from saving about $115 per month, we save ourselves from having to fight with CableVision ever again (<–bane of my existence). Oh, and the creative things that blossom!

See! Being green is not only trendy, but it’s easy. Our electric bill was $24 last month. Fuck YEAH.

(Check out your carbon footprint at: http://www.climatecrisis.net/takeaction/carboncalculator/)

Pizza Party. Week 1

It’s safe to say that my roommate’s and I are in love with pizza-Especially my girl Zsuzsa. She wants pizza with a side of pizza on a pizza- So when Rachel got herself a pizza stone we decided that we should make our own. Being borderline lazy we opted to buy pizza dough. Our friend’s own Vinnie’s (Dank pizza in Williamsburg. Bedford Ave. at N. 9th) and they sold us a big fucking heap of dough for $4. Preheated oven to 425. Rolled out the dough with a wine bottle/stretched it into a somewhat pizza-like shape, added marinara, cheddar, green peppers, red peppers, onions, and spinach. 17 minutes later and you got yourself some heaven. The roof of my mouth is burnt. Beware! This is week one of our weekly pizza parties. Extreme varieties and fun to come.

Say no to nude stockings.

Yes, we’ve been rocking the opaque stockings this winter… hard. We’ve even gotten creative, and opted for Jewel tones, and a pattern here and there. But I beg of you, do not bring back the nude stockings. I say this, because while taking part in my usual gallivants in downtown Manhattan and Brooklyn, I’ve come face to face with a handful of trend-setting hopefuls wearing an array of them. From sheer and shiny (Hello Hooters girl) to old school Capezzios, to winter white. I know you are desperate for spring, but why? why? why? do you think it’s Ok to wear stockings that a) make your legs look like they are wrapped in plastic, b) make your legs look like mine did during dance rehearsals in 5th grade (caramel), or c) make you look like you have straight up wintertime granny legs. It’s not cute, and because it is still chilly out you are allowed to rock all other color stockings until you can set your legs free. Thanks