Mamma's Eggplant Parmigiana

It's Mother’s Day and I’m in NYC, while my mom’s more than 1K miles away in FL.

Poo.

Sure I sent her presents, and we talk at least 2x per day, and I see her every other month.  But it’s not enough. I miss being with her on days like today. I know she misses being with her kids, too.

My dad is often the life of the party, but my mom is shy when you first meet her. Observing her surroundings, hanging in the background, taking it all in. My mom doesn’t come up to you -- you go to her. But when she’s comfortable with you, she’s the warmest, most thoughtful, generous and kind woman you’ll ever know.

She has a HUGE heart and there’s nothing she wouldn’t do for us.

She can be funny too. One of my favorite mom-isms is when she says, “Fat you can lose, ugly is forever.” So in her honor, I’m posting a beloved family recipe for eggplant parmigiana. It's not low calorie -- it's fried and it's cheesy and delicious.  If you want healthy, don't bother.  Eat a veggie burger instead. 

Whether in Pine Brook or Del Boca Vista, we’ve made this meal together many times – it reminds me of family, love, and home. If you cook this dish with your mom, make sure Frank Sinatra plays in the background as you dance around the kitchen… Ol' Blue Eyes makes it taste better.

And now, without further ado, I give you...

THE BEST EGGPLANT PARM YOU'LL EVER EAT

TIME:
If this doesn't take about 6 hours, you didn't do it right

SERVES:
9-12 portions

INGREDIENTS:
For the fried eggplant:

• 6 medium eggplants
• Kosher salt
• 4C seasoned breadcrumbs
• Locatelli pecorino romano grated cheese
• 5-6 eggs
• 1 large brick of Polly-O whole milk mozzarella cheese
• Olive oil

For the Sunday gravy:

• 4 cans of Tuttorosso tomato puree
• 2 cans of Tuttorosso crushed tomatoes
• 2 cans of Contadina tomato paste
• 1 package of 3-way ground beef, pork, and veal
• 1 package of sweet Italian sausage
• 1 package of braciole (super thin flank steak)
• 1 package boneless pork spare ribs 
• 2 sticks of Hormel pepperoni
• 4C seasoned bread crumbs
• Locatelli pecorino romano grated cheese
• 2-3 eggs
• Polaner minced garlic
• Italian flat leaf parsley
• Olive oil
• Salt & pepper

DIRECTIONS:

1. The first thing you should know is that we don't measure anything.  It's all by taste and by the look of it. We improvise, and so should you...
2. Most people who think they don't like eggplant say it's because it's bitter and seedy.  That's because it wasn't made right.  To avoid that, first peel the eggplants with a vegetable peeler.  Then slice them about a 1/2 inch thick. Next, find a big grill pan and start lining it with layers of sliced eggplant.  After each layer, give a liberal toss of the kosher salt.  Once they're all on there, top it with an upside-down sheet pan and place some cookbooks or a cast-iron pot on top to weigh it down. This is THE most important step, as it will draw out the bitterness and pack down the seeds.  Liquid will accumulate in the grooves of the grill pan, so do this by the sink, so you can easily dump it.  Keep it like that for about an hour.
3. While your eggplant slices are busy "juicing," you can prepare the gravy (aka the red sauce).  We use this gravy for eggplant, lasagna, baked ziti, chicken parm -- you name it.  Pour the 6 cans of crushed and pureed tomatoes into a large pot and keep it on a back burner.  Fill one empty can about halfway with water and swirl it around to get all the bits off the bottom and the sides.  Pour that water from can to can, until you've got it all.  Then dump that tomatoey water into the pot too.  For thinner gravy, add a little more water.  Season with salt and pepper.  Bring it up to a boil then reduce to low, stirring occasionally to keep the bottom from burning.
4. Since the pepperoni is already cooked, cut it into chunks, about 3-4 inches long, and put them in the gravy.  They will plump up and absorb the tomato sauce while cooking to become the most delicious pepperoni you ever had.
5. Next it's time to deal with the uncooked meats.  We don't put uncooked meats into the gravy.  That's a big no-no.  So fill a pan about a 1/2 inch deep with olive oil.  Don't use extra virgin here, it's a waste.  Any brand of regular is fine, go with what's on sale because you'll use a lot of it.  The sausage and boneless ribs can cook just as they are, from the package right into the oil, on medium heat.  Turn them often to brown on all sides and use tongs so you don't lose all the juices in the sausage.  Once they're cooked, set them aside until all the meats are ready to take a soak in the gravy.
6. Now, it's meatball time.  If you have an issue with veal or pork, you can just use all ground beef.  Put the meat in a large bowl.  Sprinkle on some grated cheese and breadcrumbs, add some chopped parsley, salt, pepper, and 2 of the eggs.  Then stick your hands in there and mush it all together.  This is the part I like the least, so my mom does it.  Make sure you take your jewelry off!  If the meat feels dry, add another egg.  If it's too moist, add more cheese and breadcrumbs.  Form them into balls and pop them into the olive oil for frying on a medium heat.  Keep adding oil as needed, and set aside the cooked meatballs.
7. Last up for the meats is the braciole.  Take the thin flank steak and spread it with the minced garlic, then sprinkle grated cheese, and more chopped parsley.  Cut the meat into slices and roll each slice up.  Tie the rolls at each end with kitchen string or butcher's twine, like a little bundle, to keep all the filling inside.  Then, pop those into the oil too, turning until browned, and set aside once cooked. Keep the strings on for now, but remember to take them off when it's time to eat!
8. Once all the meat is done, we make the roux.  This is NOT the traditional white flour and butter mixture, but it IS still used for thickening.  And it's key to the flavor and texture of the gravy. Take the pan you used to cook the meats, and add 1 can of tomato paste and a handful of grated cheese.  Stir this around on medium/high heat, to help incorporate what's left of the cooked oil and meat drippings into the tomato paste.  Add more tomato paste and cheese until all the liquids are fully absorbed.  Keep stirring this thick paste constantly until it starts turning a bit darker.  When it's done, add the roux to the gravy pot.  While you're at it add about a spoonful of garlic, too.  More or less, if you like.
9. Now it's time to get the meats into the gravy pot.  Stir it one last time before adding the meat, because it will be difficult to stir afterwards.  Cut the sausages to allow the juices to run into the gravy, then add this and the rest of the meats to the pot.  The pepperoni should already be looking plumper by now, from sitting in the gravy all this time.  If it's getting crowded, use 2 gravy pots!  But keep a mix of the meats in each, and keep the heat on low. 
10. Tired yet?  If so, you can do the whole meat & gravy piece the day before and just keep it in the fridge until you are ready to assemble the eggplant parm.
11. Ok, back to the eggplant.  By now, all the bitterness will be gone and it's time to fry those babies up.  Grab 2 shallow bowls and a plate.  In the first bowl, crack a couple eggs and stir them around until the whites and the yolks are incorporated.  In the second bowl, add the seasoned breadcrumbs and stir in some grated cheese.  First dip each piece of sliced eggplant in the egg, then toss them in the breadcrumb mix, and set them aside on the plate, fully coated.  Keep doing that until you're done, adding more egg or breadcrumbs/cheese to the bowls whenever needed.
12. Fill a new pan with oil, about 1/4 an inch high, and start frying the eggplant.  Flip them to cook on both sides, use a fork or tongs, but be careful not to pull the breading off.  Use 2 pans to move things along more quickly, if you want.  Keep an eye on them, they don't take too long to cook.  When browned on both sides, put the fried eggplant on a dish or tray lined with paper towels to soak up any excess olive oil.  (And munch on a few, just to make sure they're good.) 
13. Go back to the gravy pot(s).  By now, the meats have had a good long soak.  Pull out all the meat, and a little gravy to keep the meats from drying out, into an oven-safe dish so it's easy to heat up.  Having the meat out of the way will make it easier to ladle the gravy. 
14. The time has FINALLY come to assemble everything.  Grab a Pyrex baking dish.  Really any size works, you could use 2 small square dishes, or 1 large rectangular one.  Now's also a good time to grate the mozzarella cheese.  You'll be tempted to use a bag of the pre-shredded cheese, but it's worth shredding it yourself because it melts so much better.
15. Pour a few ladles of gravy into the baking dish and spread it around to coat the whole bottom.  Then start a layer of eggplant slices.  It's better to overlap if they don't fit exactly, than to leave gaps.  Top that with a good sprinkling of the shredded mozzarella.  Top that with a few more ladles of gravy.  Keep going, layer by layer, until you reach the top.  For the top layer, do it in reverse, first gravy, then cheese -- make sure the gravy covers everything, then sprinkle a little mozzarella and grated pecorino romano across the top as a finishing touch.
16. Bake all of this in a 350 degree pre-heated oven.  Everything is already cooked, but you want the flavors to blend and the cheeses to melt.  It will take about 30 minutes or so until the sides start to bubble and brown.  Then you know it's done.
17. It's super easy (by comparison) to serve this up with some baked ziti, or even plain macaroni in gravy, but it also stands on its own.  Serve the meats on the side with a nice salad and some bread.
18. By now, everyone in the house will be bugging you to ask when dinner will be done.  Make them set the table to feel like they are helping.  If you can stand it, let the eggplant cool for a few minutes before slicing and it will come out more easily.  If not, just dig in, your stomach won't know the difference. 
19. Mangia!
20. Keep in mind, as good as this tastes now, it gets even better as left-overs the next day.

I know this sounds like a lot of work -- and it is -- but it's worth it.  This is probably the first time this recipe has been written down, and certainly the first time it's ever been posted to the Internet.  I hope you enjoy it as much as we do. 

To my mom, my sister-in-law, my college roommates, and all the other great moms reading this, Happy Mother's Day!  May you always have an eggplant parm in the oven, a table full of loved ones, and someone ELSE to wash the dishes!


tags: family, food, holidays

Royal Wedding Mania Is Running Wild

I would imagine your workplace isn’t as royally-infused as mine.

For instance, are your colleagues (who aren't stationed in London) hosting a sleepover to watch Wills and Kate's nuptials? Or designing cool royal manicures? Do you plan to have tea and scones in your conference room tomorrow to review the play-by-play? Or has anyone cooked up an entire wedding watching menu chock-a-block with British fare?

I’m guessing no.

While I am slightly bitter that Kate stole my sapphire engagement ring idea (which I, incidentally, stole from Diana, the original trendsetter and owner of that 18-carat rock), I still can’t help but get a little swept into the hoopla too.

Just for a minute.

Ok, maybe TEN minutes. Max. Like when I played Princess Yourself the first time. Or the second time. Or the third time.  Or made myself into a royal stamp. Or gave myself a royal name.  Please note: I hereto forthwith shall evermore be known as Lady Jennifer Eugenia Gaonachton of Pine Brookport.

Smashing!

I’m not, however, sold on the idea of waking up at 4am to watch the wedding. In fact, I think if my own brother asked me to watch his wedding at 4am I’d tell him to… bugger off. But there are plenty of ways to participate, if you didn’t receive a faxed (seriously, faxed?) save-the-date or your gold-embossed invitation (one of 1900) got lost in the mail.

Here’s my 15-step plan for the festivities. You are cordially invited to follow it too…

STEP 1: Eat Easter Candy

God save the Queen-sized box of Peeps that's airing out on my table until it's nice and stale.  I will be too busy trying to find my own version of the Kate Middleton jellybean look-a-like.  I think that's a peach Jelly Belly.  I'm sure it's in my basket somewhere.

STEP 2: Learn What's Going On Inside Prince William and Catherine's Heads 

After coming up empty-handed in the jellybean department, I will spend some time on eBay bidding for a limited edition William & Kate PEZ Set.  I imagine when I am old(er), I will also enjoy taking my fiber supplements from these whimsical dispensers.

STEP 3: Meet the Royal Family

Better than paper dolls, and far less creepy than blowups, I'm choosing to Knit My Own Royal Wedding so I can play along at home.  They make even Prince Charles and the Queen Mum look downright cuddly.  Plus, this is a skill I feel will come in handy down the line, as it will be perfect practice for when I am forced to knit my own husband and children.

STEP 4: Hydrate

The Royal Wedding is a marathon, not a sprint.  As such, I will overcome my aversion to hot beverages and pour myself a spot of tea, using my KaTEA and William Tea Bags.  I will giggle politely as I watch them bob up and down in a brown bath.

STEP 5: Eat a Tiara

I'll leave wearing crowns to Burger King.  Me?  I prefer eating them, which is why I will consume an entire box of Eleni’s Royal Wedding Biscuits, which includes, of course, a bejeweled tiara.  I will feel only slightly bad eating Will and Kate's heads.  I hope they don't taste like marmite.

STEP 6: Save Room for Pizza

I will try not to spoil my appetite, and leave room in my stomach for Papa John’s Royal Wedding Pizza. I'm particularly fond of William's pepperoni uniform, and will vow to eat that part last.

STEP 7: Vomit

The blend of jellybeans, PEZ, tea, cookies, and pizza will not sit well in my tummy.  Luckily, I'll have a Royal Wedding Toilet Seat so I can upchuck in a manner befitting a princess.  This cheeky loo décor gives new meaning to the word “throne” and will allow me to evacuate Buckingham Palace to make room for more treats later on. Can I jam more innuendo in here?  Yes.  Talk about a royal flush!

STEP 8: Get All Gussied Up

Some people may think it's appropriate to wear fancy hats or morning coats to Westminster Abbey.  But remember, I'm from Jersey.  So of course, I'm going straight for the Royal Nail Decals. 

STEP 9: Get My Drink On

Now it's time to get serious.  The happy couple may have banned beer from their reception, but you can bet I'll be hitting the local pub to guzzle a sixpack of Kiss Me Kate Beer in their honor.  (Does anyone think Ms. Middleton looks a lot like Lauren Conrad, or is that just the beer talking?)

STEP 10: Cheers!

I'd get pretty plastered if I did a shot for every year I haven't walked down the aisle (roughly 37.5).  Slightly less depressing, though, would be to play the Royal Wedding Drinking Game.  Simply take a sip of beer each time I see a duke, duchess, or a sword?  Oh, that sounds like MUCH more fun, and gives me a brand new excuse to love my iPhone.

STEP 11: Vomit Again

Damn those dukes, duchesses, and swords -- they're everywhere!  Of course, the Kiss Me Kate will come right back up.  Luckily, I have my very own, highly portable Royal Wedding Barf Bag.  They also come in blue or a 2-pack of gold and purple, which frankly, are too posh to use.

STEP 12: Get a Room

I'll be pretty tuckered out after all that gallivanting about in the pub.  Good thing I've got Royal Bed-ding.  Who says you can't wear Kate's navy blue engagement dress AND wake up next to a prince?

STEP 13: Make a New Friend

Tradition says that Will and Kate won't be kissing at the end of their wedding ceremony, and neither should I.  But just incase I lose my head and there's a frog next to me under those princely sheets, it might be a good idea to keep some Crown Jewels in my purse next to the barf bag.  It's birth control fit for a king!

STEP 14: Papa Don't Preach

You know, novelty condoms are never a good idea.  So in the event that these weren't up for the challenge and I accidentally produce an heir to the throne, Royal Pacifiers could be in my future.

STEP 15: Find a Proper Baby Daddy

Let's hope my baby has red hair.  That will make it a LOT easier to pass it off as Harry's.  This Princely Mousepad will help me keep my mission top-of-mind.  Do you think the royals are on eHarmony?










So... if you're still reading all this nonsense, who's with me??

No one?  Ok.

Well, did you know that Prince William’s last name is Mountbatten-Windsor? Or that his full title is His Royal Highness Prince William Arthur Louis of Wales, Royal Knight Companion of the Most Noble Order of the Garter Master of Arts?

That must be a bitch to sign. 

I should probably start practicing Prince Harry's name now.  For the birth certificate.


tags: holidays, pop culture, work

Peeps Be With You

It’s Good Friday, and I’ve been pretty good this Lent, if I do say so myself. I only accidentally ate meat one day when a sandwich with chicken, ham, AND bacon just fell into my mouth (when I go, I go big).

I’m really glad I don’t live anywhere near a Denny’s. While McDonald's and Wendy's are busy peddling fish sandwiches, Denny's Baconalia festival is waving an unbelievable temptation right under our snouts.  Who among us could resist a bacon sundae? 

Not me.  I'm only human.

Anyway, one thing I didn’t give up is candy. It’s not much of a sacrifice for me because I don’t have a giant sweet tooth – I’ll take a potato chip over a chocolate chip any day.

But oh, how I love my Peeps.

I know they’re available all year now for every holiday, but those are imposters. It’s ONLY the Easter chicks that count. Not the bunnies, the chicks.  Yellow ones. And occasionally the pinks. But that’s it.  I'm a Peep purist.

I prefer mine stale so they’re nice and chewy, and I eat them face first, a sleeve at a time. Yum.

You may think you don’t like Peeps, but you’d be wrong. You may not like to eat them (and thanks for that, because it just means more marshmallows for me), but how could you not love to watch crazy Peep hijinks?

The Washington Post has elevated these seasonal sugary snacks to an art form by hosting a contest for the best Peeps diorama. It's become one of my favorite parts of the season.  So here are a dozen keepers from the past 5 years.

I dare you not to eat them up:



Peep Art



TSA Agents Get a Peep Show

Peeping Peeps

 

Goodnight Peep

Mrs. Peepcock in the Conservatory with the Revolver

The Peep Is Right

The Mupeep Show

Mommy Peepest

Peep-Busters

PeepTube

Super Peepio Brothers

A Peep Behind the Curtain

 
I'm thinking I should enter this contest next year.  Maybe I'll start on Monday.  And eat all my bad ideas.  Because the only thing that's better than a sleeve of stale Peeps, is a day-after-Easter, half-price sleeve of stale Peeps.
 
So, what kind of scene should I make?  I'm too hopped up on sugar to think straight...
 
 
tags: food, holidays

Top Ramen

As you know, I’m back to online dating.

It’s not that I love the idea of meeting someone online, because I definitely don’t. But in my everyday life (at my advanced age), I just don’t have enough opportunities to meet new people.

I guess it’s not really “people” I’m looking to meet. It’s guys. Ok, ok, single guys. Alright, STRAIGHT single guys.

Anyway, I’ve recently been toying with the idea of taking golf or sailing lessons at Chelsea Piers or cooking classes at the Institute for Culinary Education. It would be so nice to meet someone in real life instead of on a computer, where you have no idea if the guy you think is normal is actually a 300lb hoarder who’s 6’ tall ONLY when he stands on a giant pile of empty Steak-Umm boxes.

You just can’t tell.

Anyway, about a month and a half ago, I was in the grocery store across the street from my apt. I was in the mood to learn to make soup, and was buying the fixings for French Onion. I wasn’t really following a recipe, exactly, but I’ve eaten it a 100x over the years. So I was just going from aisle to aisle picking up ingredients that seemed to make sense.

Immediately after the produce aisle (where I grabbed Spanish onions, red onions, a head of garlic, and a shallot), and the cookie aisle (where I picked up some Nutter Butters, which have nothing at all to do with the soup, but are simply the most awesomely delicious cookie ever), I found myself in the soup aisle.

You’d think I would have skipped this aisle, since I was making soup from scratch. It might have made sense to avoid the temptation to scrap my whole plan, buy a can of Campbell’s, kick back on the couch and chow down on sweet, sweet Nutter Butters.

But I didn’t.

I got to the middle of the aisle when I realized I needed a broth of some kind. So I was standing there, debating whether I should go with beef stock or vegetable stock. Veggie was in a green box. Would the broth be greenish too? I couldn’t take the chance. I knew beef was brown. 

Just then, a tall, glasses-wearing guy in a very nice gray pinstripe suit reached over my head to grab 2 packages of Nissin Top Ramen. Chicken flavor. “I lived on this stuff in college,” he said to me as he dropped the packages into his basket. I nodded. He nodded. And he went on his way up the aisle.

I grabbed the beef stock and continued down the aisle. I turned the corner to the frozen food section, which also happens to have pre-packaged deli items, and smells vaguely of vomit. I was deliberating over buying Gruyere (at $24 a wedge!) or Swiss (at a mere $8).

Ramen Noodle walked by again. “Try the fontina,” he said. I smiled. He smiled. And he went on his way up the aisle.

I grabbed the fontina, since it was also white and melty, and a fraction of the cost of the Gruyere.  I also picked up a bag of Nathan’s Famous frozen potato pancakes (because they are tasty), and continued down the aisle. I skipped the next few aisles because I didn’t need any beverages, cleaning products, pet food, or cereal.

I was in the last aisle to grab some butter to saute the onions in.  This is FRENCH onion soup after all.  The tub of I Can't Believe It's Not Butter that I already had in my fridge probably wouldn't cut it.

Well, guess who walked by?

Clearly we were on the same grocery path. “Got the fontina, huh?” he asked. I laughed. He laughed. And we both went up the aisle toward the checkout. We picked different lanes, which meant we were done roughly at the same time. I know this because I walked out of the store right behind him.

“Are you following me?” he flirted. “It won’t be a long walk, I live just across the street.” He proceeded to point right at my building.

“You don’t say?” I replied. “Me too.”

He introduced himself, and I did the same. We chatted while waiting for the light to change. And while walking across the street. And in the lobby of our building. And by the mailboxes. And by the elevators. We got in, and I hit my floor, 28. He hit his floor, 17. Then he asked me out for a drink.

(Not that night, of course. I would be too busy eating cookies while figuring out how to make soup.)

We met in the lobby the following night around 8pm. That is precisely when this cute story of 2 people meeting in the soup aisle at Gristedes turned rotten.

The drinks lasted all of 20 minutes. In this time:

• I noticed he was much heavier than I remembered. Maybe it was all the sodium from the ramen, but the buttons on his shirt (and probably his pants) were undoubtedly the most hard-working buttons in the room.
• He barely said 10 words, all he did was gesture.  It was like being on a date with a mime.
• The few words he did use were directed towards our server, and involved ordering, re-ordering, and re-re-ordering himself a glass of port. He showed no visible signs of remorse for his openly assholey behavior or for his bad taste in drinks.

Interrupting my silent prayers for someone to pull the fire alarm, he stepped away. I assumed it was to pay the bill at the bar. I was at least grateful that he realized this was going nowhere.  Plus, I made a mental note that 99 cent noodles are a HORRIBLE foundation for a first date. The only guys who still eat that crap are wasted and/or broke.

He returned a few minutes later reeking of cigarettes. Revolting.

“Can you tell I just had a smoke?” he asked as he waved his arms in the air and shook out his suit jacket. Ah!  Words!  How nice.  Too bad he stunk.  So I replied, “Um, could you tell if a bum just took a dump his pants?” 

He looked at me strangely. Needless to say, the date ended there. We walked back, awkwardly, to our apt building.

And I learned a valuable lesson – don’t date anyone who lives in your apt building! Because I ran into him like 6 more times after that horrible date. In typical New York fashion, though, we pretended like we didn’t know one another. Which was fine by me.

Now, you might be wondering why I decided to write about him today if this date happened a while back. Well, my typical policy with writing about my bad dates is that I don’t do it until I'm positive I’m never going to see the guy again. And I will NEVER see Ooodles of Noodles again, as the doorman told me he moved out today. Hooray!

I just might celebrate. With some port. Oh, wait!  That’s a pretentious drink that tastes like oven cleaner.

Maybe I’ll just have a Nutter Butter.

So, would you ever date someone from your same apartment or office building?  Share below...

tags: city life, dating, food

The Meet Market

The other night, I went to Professor Thom's in the East Village for a book launch party.  My colleague wrote an e-book, soon to be a paperback, called Salary Tutor (check it out -- who among us couldn't use a bigger paycheck?).  As he was introducing his agent and publisher to us, I got to thinking about my own book.

Say what?

Yes, I wrote an unpublished novel AGES ago -- back in 2002, to be exact, when I was just 29 years young.  And all 285 pages have been sitting in a box ever since.  Well, they briefly saw the light of day back in 2009, when I dusted them off to blog an excerpt from one of my favorite chapters. 

But mostly, it's been a life in the box.

Anyway, I went digging in that old box when I got home from the party, and I discovered that even waaay back then, I knew online dating was full of freaks and losers.  Like this guy, this guy, THIS guy, this guy, and most recently, this guy.  And I hadn't even signed up for any dating services at that point in my life, like I did at age 35 or 37. 

But somehow, I just knew.  Behold, snippets from Chapter 20: The Meet Market...


A homely young woman was sitting on her couch, under a crocheted blanket, eating chocolate ice cream straight from the container.  A voiceover declared, "You can eat ice cream on your couch." The next scene showed the same woman, now a sexpot in a French bistro seated across from a gentleman in a tuxedo. "Or you can eat ice cream off your date."  They cut to the woman's face and she winked as he put an ice cream-coated fingertip in her mouth.  The voice said, "You decide," as the words "No More Lonely Nights" scrolled across the screen, with the URL for an online dating site. 


Eventually, the book's main character, Kate (a girl loosely based on me), made the decision to join this dating site.  Unsure how to navigate these unfamiliar waters, she first did a little profile reconnaissance...


Kate came across cutesy screen names like IrishYouPeace and Shiksappeal, nostalgic names like OuttaTime88 and TheOtherDarrinStevens, nasty names like Chitty_Chitty_Gang_Bang and Jenitellya, and creepy names like AshleighsDad and Pastor_Gary. 

In her dating experiences, Kate was a lot like Goldilocks.  Some of the porridge was too cold, some of the beds were too soft, some of the bears were too short.  She'd yet to meet anyone that was "just right."  That seemed as good a screen name as any, so JustWrite29 was born.  In the wee hours of Saturday morning, she posted the following profile:

     JUSTWRITE29 - LOOKING FOR MR. MAYBE
     Cable television talent booker seeking an escape from the single life.  I prefer beer to wine, dinner to dancing, and
     brains to brawn.  You prefer brunettes to blondes, movies to marathons, and sarcasm to slapstick.  If you have also
     run out of friends to hit on, you find yourself bored by the bar scene, and would rather poke yourself in the eye with
     a fork than sit through another fixup, we should probably talk.


It wasn't long before Kate began receiving responses to her new profile...


A small, yellow envelope appeared at the bottom of her computer screen, so she took a detour from reviewing the morning's news stories to reading her email.  There were seven new messages, all a result of the dating profile she just posted.  "This is too easy," Kate said as she waded through the messages. "Come to mama!"  What she quickly realized is the reason it was so easy was because there were a lot of spooky freaks patrolling the information superhighway in the middle of the night, many of whom likely still lived with mama. 

The messages came with photos attached.  She found it funny that someone named PlayLikeAChampionToday was giving a buddy hi-five.  The caption might as well have read: I'm going for the gold in the Douche Olympics.  Bronze simply will not do.  Date_Seeking_Missile promised to take Kate all the way to DEFCON5.  Staring at his picture, Kate made a mental note never to date a man who wore clogs or bathing suits that resembled panties.

Someone named Theres.Something.About.Marty explained that he enjoyed long walks on the beach.  "Yeah, on a leash.  Woof, WOOF," Kate said aloud as she deleted his message.  The hairstyles here were something like she hadn't seen since her high school yearbook.  For the candidate best suited for male pattern baldness, she was torn between LastAmericanSmoker with the moustache and mullet and TKESully82 who looked as though he dove headfirst into a jar of Dippity Don't.


Kate continued wading through messages, until she got to the last one...


The speedy death of her faith in Internet dating culminated with the following glorious proposition:

     TO:                JustWrite29
     FR:                NE_PatsFan11
     DATE:            Saturday, April 5, 2:41AM
     MESSAGE:      i like your butt. can i wear it as a hat?

Without hesitation, she deactivated her online dating profile.  It may have been rash, but she was not prepared to be hit on by losers in the comfort and privacy of her own home.  No sense in meeting men even less mature than the emotional toddlers she'd been dating all her life.  She'd relegate those lame pick-ups and horrible fix-ups to the bars, where they belonged.


See!  All those years ago, I knew even without knowing, that online dating is the pits.  Case in point: about a week ago, one guy decided to jump past the guided communication on eHarmony and deliver me an "icebreaker."  From his profile photos (6 total), he could only be described as a Tank Top Enthusiast.  He sent me the oldest pickup line in the book, "Haven't I seen you someplace before?" 

I replied, "Yes, that's why I don't go there anymore." 

And then I closed the match.

For every 100 guys like the ones above, there's MAYBE 1 normal one.  If that!  I'm emailing right now with a guy from Long Island who appears totally normal.  The good news is that according to his photos, he has no affinity for sleeveless undershirts and shows no obvious signs of wanting to wear my ass as headgear.  But what do I know?

Now I'm thinking maybe I should read the rest of the manuscript!  It's like a freaking crystal ball!  Who knows what other sage dating advice (online or otherwise) that my young, cute 29 year old self has for my old, haggard 37 year old self?

Stay tuned...


tags: dating, writing

Thinking Out Loud

I thought about not writing this post, but I have a confession to make.

I cried 3 times this week.

The 1st time, I was on my way to work, crossing 42nd Street, near the Vanderbilt entrance of Grand Central. Forever, by Chris Brown was playing on my iPod (I like him when he's not beating women or destroying property or generally being an ass). The 2nd time, I was sitting on my couch, watching the Big Love series finale. Bill Hendricks (spoiler alert!) was dying on the ground, and using his last breath to ask for a blessing from his first wife, Barb. The 3rd time, I was in my office, reviewing a video submitted by a groom-to-be for a contest we are running. The guy was talking about his first date, and how he “just knew.”

At first, I couldn’t understand why I’ve been so emotional lately. I haven’t cried in ages! Besides, I just got home from a super fun trip to Wilmington and Philly with my good friend. My parents were about to come into town to meet my new little nephew for the first time. Work’s been insane, but is going really well. I’m still totally loving my iPhone. And, of course, Dancing with the Stars is back.

What could possibly be wrong?

Then, I realized a year ago today, I moved in with my ex-fiance. And all those things -- that entrance, that song, that show, and that first date feeling when you think you “just know” -- reminded me of him.

During my last week in the city, he brought me flowers, like he did most every Tuesday. If I’d known that would be the last time he'd give me flowers, I would’ve paid more attention to what they looked like. But I do remember that I put them in a glass pitcher because all my vases were packed.

Piles of cardboard boxes, stacked 6 feet high, were scattered all over my apt. So rather than order in that night like we usually did, we went to dinner at the Italian restaurant up the street. We shared a square pizza with double pepperoni. Our usual order.

I remember so clearly sitting across the table from him. I was trying to soak in every minute of our last day in NYC. Of course we’d be back, but never again as 2 people on the verge of beginning their lives together. It was such a HUGE step for me, but I was absolutely certain it was the right one. Even though we didn’t have a wedding date yet, we DID have a moving date. And at the time, that was all I needed.

He insisted that I hire movers, which was a good idea in retrospect. So I spent my tax return on it. That was like free money anyway, right? When moving day came, we decided it was best to divide and conquer – I was with the movers in NYC, he was with my brother and a van up in CT, transporting all our extra stuff to a storage unit. About halfway through the day, we met up outside his condo. He and my brother were waiting for everything to arrive so they could make another trip to storage. I hopped out of the taxi I’d taken from the Stamford train station, and I was smiling from ear to ear.

My brother would later tell our mom that he’d never seen me happier.

It was around 5pm that night when my ex finally came through the door. I was in his condo, surrounded by my boxes. He went for the couch and I snuggled in right beside him. I wanted to kiss and pop champagne. I wanted to jump up and down and celebrate. I wanted to take a picture to remember that moment forever.

He did not. 

He said moving stressed him out. So there was no kissing, no champagne, no jumping, no photos. Thinking about how crushed I felt that day still brings tears to my eyes. Obviously. And, as you know, it was all downhill from there.

Like I said earlier, I thought about not writing this post. In part, because I'm doing SO much better and dwelling in the past over a relationship that wasn't real is unhealthy. Plus, I haven't cried about this breakup since November when I was contacted by someone who was connected to him.  Hearing from this person was totally shocking, but ultimately reaffirming and kind.

It provided me with some closure, for which I was grateful, but it stirred up a slew of old emotions too. 

So to write about this relationship again now, all these months later, means admitting that it still gets to me. I guess the truth is, it does. But not in the way you might think.

What upsets me most, is that I’ll never get to experience that first time again. The moment I’d been waiting my whole life for: Two lives becoming one. To think something that carried such incredible meaning for me was treated so carelessly and dismissed so casually makes me upset.  And it makes me angry.

I'd really love to stop remembering these painful milestones.  Just wipe my memory clean.  Because even when I don't think I'm thinking about it, clearly on some level I still am.  Maybe it's inevitable, but I hope I just need to start making new memories in order to forget the old ones.  And then I can close this chapter. 

For good.

But for now... it helps to write about it.  Thanks, as always, for listening.


tags: breakup

On the Roadi: DE Here We Come

And... we're off. 

Come along for the ride!  To join the 1st Roadi trip EVER to Delaware (aka: The First State), check out our blog or follow us on Twitter.

All the cool kids are doing it.  Well, probably not the COOL kids.  More like the kids who have nothing better to do but be online all weekend when the weather's supposed to be nice.  But please, don't let that stop you.

tags: travel

It's Just a Little Crush

Lately I’ve been feeling dizzy, feverish, and nauseous. Is it the flu? Allergies? A bad tuna fish sandwich?

No.

I have a crush. Well, if I’m being honest, it’s more like 6 crushes. I know! It’s still kinda early, so I don’t know where they will lead. But I’m hopeful…

We've moved pretty quickly.  I met them all this year, and already we get together about once a week (not all at the same time, of course, I’m not that kind of girl!). And the beauty is, we never have to ruin the romance. Why?

Because they’re not real.

They’re in my TV! Oh, that’s the BEST kind of crush there is! Please, allow me to introduce:

Glee
Blaine, aka Darren Criss

This little Warbler has singlehandedly saved Glee for me. Even if he doesn’t play for my team, he’s my hands-down favorite part of the show. If you haven’t seen him belt out When I Get You Alone in the middle of a Gap in Ohio, you simply haven’t lived. I’m being dead serious. You need to watch it now. Right. Now. Yep, I’ll wait…. (sigh...).  Now watch it again.  See?! Amazing. Nobody rocks a navy blue blazer with red piping like Blaine. And before you get all crazy, he’s not actually IN high school. He’s like 24. Which makes me a cougar, not a criminal.

Parks & Rec
Ben, aka Adam Scott

Pawnee’s newest resident may be a financially responsible auditor now, but he got his start in local government as a boy mayor who was ousted for blowing the budget on a tourist attraction called, Ice Town. You have to love that. I’ve always been a fan of Adam Scott’s geekish charm, and while it’s cooler to say I fell for him in Party Down, the truth is, I realllly first remember him from Boy Meets World. My television repertoire is vast and varied.

Episodes
Matt LeBlanc, aka Matt LeBlanc

This is not Joey “How YOU doin’?” Tribbiani, even if they both smell like cinnamon.  Matt’s actually playing himself, or a version of himself, on this hilarious show about an American remake of a British show. Follow that? He’s all kinds of adorable here, even with gray hair. I’m only slightly weirded out by the fact that it looks like he’s gotten an eye job (either that, or he’s just really, really, REALLY surprised all the time), and the fact that we've been repeatedly told Matt has a giant package (a trait that Matt may or may not share with his character). The biggest tease here is that there were only 7 episodes in this mini-season. But the pilot they were filming on this show-within-a-show got picked up, so… see you in September!

Vampire Diaries
Damon, aka Ian Somerhalder

This crush has actually been smoldering for a while. But it’s only recently I’ve discovered that I tend to fast forward through most of this Twilight-inspired tween drama, just to focus on the parts he’s in. He’s evil and good looking. I’m helpless to resist. Besides, pretty much every episode goes like this: Elena puts herself in danger, Stefan takes a break from brooding to rescue her, Elena resists getting them both in a jam, random sub-plot with werewolf and/or witchy hijinks ensue, Damon somehow rescues BOTH Stefan and Elena, then looks longingly at her. As you can see, I’m not really missing much.

Shameless
Lip, aka Jeremy Allen White

Ok, ok, I think this one actually IS a kid. Like under 18. So I won’t say anything here except that you should be watching Shameless, 10pm Sunday nights on Showtime.

(And Lip steals the show.)

Mr. Sunshine
Crystal, aka Allison Janney

Admittedly, this is an odd choice. After all, she is… a she. But I cannot get enough of Crystal the clueless, heartless, clown-fearing owner of the Sunshine Center. Last week, she was figure skating with Papa Smurf, the week before the humidity in San Diego did something so bad to her hair that by the time the episode was over, she looked like Peter Brady. It’s so great to see the funny side of CJ. I heart her.






So those are my crushes.  Swoon.  Is it love? I’m going to go with no. Crushes are fleeting.  And apparently, so is love.  I mean who can really say, “I will always love you”? AL-WAYS. As in forever. Nobody. Except maybe Whitney Houston, and she’s high on crack.

Ok, so I may be a bit damaged. Like a dented soup can. But for now, I have my TV crushes to keep me company.

Anyone else in a 2-dimensional, 1-sided affair? 


tags: entertainment

Love (x2)

Nearly 2 years ago, I became an aunt for the very first time to my niece, Grace Elizabeth. And from the second that little pink munchkin rolled down the hallway at Bridgeport Hospital, I've been totally smitten.

Love at first sight.

About 2 weeks ago, I became an aunt for a second time, now to a little boy named Thomas John. And I've fallen instantly in love. Again.

One of the things I'm getting a kick out of are the differences between them.

Gracie is a bundle of curiosity and personality. She has her own mind (even if I can only understand about 28% of what she says). One minute, you can see her wheels turning, trying to make sense that the "Tommy" we've all been pointing to in her mom's tummy is now the little meatball on her lap. The next, she's scooting around the house with her pink and purple shopping cart, while coloring on papers (and occasionally tables), and eating yogurt/applesauce/mushy chicken, and reading 17 books. Upside down.

She's a total riot. And a ham. And an awful lot like her Aunt Jenny at that age. Or so I'm told.

Tommy, from what I've observed so far, is such a boy. I can totally see his sister when I look at his sweet face, but with darker hair, a more olive complexion, and meatier hands. He's mellow and thoughtful. Can babies be deep in thought? If so, he is. He sleeps mostly right now, but when he does open those big blue peepers, you can actually see that he's taking in the world around him. He seems satisfied with everything, then drifts back off to dreamland.

Perfectly content.

No matter the chaos swirling around, he's just chillin' the most. Except for when he's hungry. Just like his dad.

I truly can't wait to see what awesome people they grow up to be. But one of the things I'm most looking forward to (besides NOT cheating at Uno with them), is watching their relationship develop with each other. As playmates. As tattle-tales. As co-conspirators. And ultimately, as best friends.

I have NO idea what's in store for me in the kid department. There was a long period of time where I thought I might never have the opportunity to be a parent. Then, for a brief moment, I was absolutely certain I would. Now, who knows? But I feel so very blessed to have these little ones in my life.

They are pure joy.

Here's hoping each of you has a little joy in your life too!


tags: family

Federal Un-Reserved

I don’t typically blog about guys I've never met. But I'm making an exception.

I’m fully aware how out-of-practice I am in the dating department, so I specifically chose eHarmony because of their guided communication process. It's less scary.  Not like Match where you generally meet up right away. I'm not ready for that. 

I need a barrier.

Now, barely a day goes by that I don’t receive a request to communicate from a guy. And I decline almost ALL of them. It’s not that I think I’m that great, because if recent history has taught us anything, um… I’m not.

It’s just that if I'm certain I’m not interested -- based purely on a 30 second assessment of his profile and pictures -- I don’t want to waste his time. Or mine.

Mainly mine.

Anyway, about 2 weeks ago, I heard from a guy. Let’s call him Alan Greenspan, former chairman of the US Federal Reserve banking system. “AG” was 44, 6’1”, and owned a home in Forest Hills, NY. Never married, no kids, worked as a “US government securities compliance examiner,” whatever that is, and classified himself as someone who was good at managing his finances. I should hope so!

If the pictures were to be believed, he had blonde hair (which I don’t typically go for), nice teeth (which I do), and was as cute as a 44-year-old grown man can be. Despite the fact that he loved the Rangers, Dave Matthews, and dogs, like someone I once knew, I decided to reply.

First, we exchanged multiple choice questions and answers. Mostly stupid stuff like, if you were to go on a dream vacation, would it be to a cottage by the sea, or to Paris, or a sandy beach, or hiking? (I'm allergic to hiking.) Then we traded our top 10 relationship must-haves and can’t-stands. (Can you guess what mine might be?) Finally, we sent short answer questions, like what is your best physical feature? (My rack -- kiddiiiing -- my smile.)

Finally, it was on to open communication. At this stage, we were still emailing through eHarmony so no contact information changed hands. But he seemed nice and normal, so I moved forward.

I won’t describe what happened next, you’ll just have to read it for yourself. Here is our email exchange, unedited:


Hi Jennifer,

Thanks for your responses so far during these initial stages. It's been great getting to know you...and I'd love to find out more. I know you said you had written up a response to my second question (i.e. What are the most important interests/activities/beliefs you want to share with your partner? Tell me your thoughts on kids/family, living near/around NYC, music/dancing, sports, PDA/intimacy, pets, vacation, politics, and religion) but that it would not fit.

Let me know your thoughts on those items, especially intimacy. I ask about that specifically since I see that among your ten must haves that you do not have either passionate, affectionate or sexually knowledgeable. What is your opinion and desires when it comes to sharing affection and passion with your partner. An unreserved physical expression of feelings is part of the necessary communication in a long term relationship. I want someone who also wants to be able to freely express their attraction (verbally and physically) to her partner. And I'd love to know about the other issues as well.

Hope to hear from you soon,
AG 



Hi Alan,

Thanks for your note. I’ve enjoyed getting to know you too! I have to be honest, though, I’m a little uncomfortable discussing intimacy in depth at this stage. I wouldn’t list anything overtly sexual as a top 10 requirement in the person I date mainly because as a woman, I think that message attracts the wrong type of guy. I purposely selected “Chemistry” instead. I agree, both physical and emotional intimacy are critical to a lasting monogamous relationship, but it takes time to build that trust.

If you don’t agree, that’s totally ok, but then perhaps we aren’t a match. If you can understand my point of view, then please write back and I’d be more than happy to answer the rest of your questions.

Best,
Jen



Hi Jen,

While I don't want to make you discuss anything that makes you uncomfortable, I was looking for general attitude toward intimacy (affection, verbal and physical exchanges) with your partner. If it is something that is not important to you, then at least I know that before I decide anything about a chance for us. If you are on board with me on this issue, then we should move forward and talk on the phone.

As much as chemistry may include intimacy, I wish to specifically address it since I want to be able to be unreserved with my partner when it comes to expressing my high regard for her. I understand trust is needed to enable both persons to express themselves and that you do not want to attract the wrong guy, but since honesty is needed from day one, I just want to make sure we see eye to eye on this topic.

I understand that you wouldn't be verbally or physically intimate with any person early on, but I'm not into holding back feelings (especially verbally)...it's my way of always being honest.

Care to share any more details?  Feel free to call me at 917-XXX-XXXX whenever you have time.
AG



Greenspan,

Thanks for writing back. I guess I feel like I have told you generally what my attitude towards intimacy is -- I think it’s important. I’m a fan. But now I have to be blunt -- I’m put-off by your fixation on this topic. Particularly when we don’t even know the most basic things about each other, like where we grew up or if we have any siblings. Passion, intimacy, chemistry, whatever, develops over time. Or it doesn’t.

Thanks for your number, but I really don’t care to share any more details on this topic. I wish you good luck with your search.

Goodbye,
Jen




Okaaaay. So was it wrong of me to be totally weirded out here? Was I too harsh?  Am I the jerk for not wanting to discuss this?

No. 

Personally, I think I should have turned this into a drinking game and taken a shot every time he said the word “unreserved.” I'd have been shitfaced after the first paragraph.  What does it even mean, anyway?

Vote below:

poll by twiigs.com

tags: dating, polls