June | 2010 | Door Sixteen

One year.

Jun 25, 2010

It has been one year since Michael Jackson died.

Looking back at the post I wrote 365 days ago, it’s clear to me that I really did not fully understand on that day just how much of an impact he had on my life, or how greatly his death would affect me.

I remember much of that afternoon quite clearly. The panic as I was leaving work, the text messages and phone calls from my friend Pam. The confusion and the confirmation. The feeling of the ground dropping out from under me as I walked to Grand Central to take a train home. Evan was working late, and my mother drove me home from the ferry. I sat in her car and forced myself to not cry because I knew that kind of reaction would be irrational. But why?

The death of a celebrity is a strange thing. Everything about celebrity is strange, actually. We know them but we don’t know them, and they don’t know us at all—or at least not as individuals. It’s nearly as one-sided a relationship as possible, but the extent and depth of emotion we’re capable of feeling for these strangers should not be underestimated.

There are a hundred reasons why Michael Jackson’s death has affected me so deeply, and none of them are unimportant. I feel what I feel, and I stopped apologizing for it a long time ago. (Though I suppose the need to even say that is, in itself, a kind of apology. Oh well.)

It’s been a strange year. On one hand, it’s a relief to see documentation of certain things (yes, even the autopsy confirms vitiligo; no, the extensive FBI files weren’t hiding any sordid tales; yes, he really was extorted, multiple times; yes, the media did completely mislead the public for 16 years; no, there isn’t anyone who knew him with anything bad to say; yes, his three children are beautiful and amazing and they love him very much; yes, that fire on the Pepsi set was way more horrible than any of us realized; yes, he really did give away that much money; yes, a lot of people took horrible advantage of this man with a big, big heart; …and yes, he just might have been the nicest person ever), it’s very frustrating and sad for a lifetime fan who has spent many hours over many years reading a great number of legal documents and court transcripts to not be able to say, “I told you so”.

I just wish all of the voices speaking out on Michael’s behalf now would have done so years ago.

But enough about that.

The word “icon” gets tossed around an awful lot, but it’s impossible to overuse when talking about Michael Jackson. Everything the man wore became instantly identifiable as an extension of who he was an artist. Of course the first thing most people think of is the single, glittering glove, but that’s just the tip of the MJ fashion iceberg. Beyond the glove, we have the cropped pants, the white socks, the loafers, the fedora, the zippered red jacket, the red jeans, the military-style jacket, the white-taped fingers, the sequined cardigan, the Mickey Mouse shirt, the aviator-style Ray Bans, the armband, the surgical mask, the red button-down, the umbrella, the arm brace, the shinguards, the bow tie, the gold pants…and so on. From just a few photos and some film shot last spring, it’s now impossible to see a peaked-shoulder Balmain jacket or a pair of bright orange Dior Homme jeans without thinking of Michael. Anything he chose to wear became his. How amazing is that? And I’m just talking about fashion here—I haven’t even touched on the music and the dance!

The fact is that Michael Jackson had something that no one else has ever had or ever will have. He was and continues to be utterly compelling to watch and listen to because every aspect of his being as an entertainer was in perfect harmony. Nothing was done by mistake or without reason, but the overall effect is one of total effortlessness. His movements, his voice, his appearance: Like breathing.

It’s hard for me to write this. I could keep going and going and never finish, becoming more and more disjointed with my thoughts and failing miserably at paying any kind of real tribute. Ultimately, the best way to honor Michael is by listening to his music. I learned that last August 29th, when I stood in Prospect Park with 20,000 other Michael Jackson fans, singing and dancing and weeping and remembering how much joy this man has brought us over the years. I don’t think I’ve ever seen such an outpouring of love for strangers in one place before in my life. But as always, Michael loved us more.

Photographs from Arno Bani, MJJ Pictures, Todd Gray, and Jeffrey Scales. Video for “This Is It” directed by Spike Lee.

Please, just this once, skip this post and don’t comment if you aren’t interested or don’t understand why I feel the way that I do. I don’t need to convince anyone of anything. This is for me and for others who are commemorating the anniversary of a loss that did matter to a lot of people. Thank you.

Tile for the vestibule.

Jun 24, 2010

Newburgh
The House

48 comments

I love the vestibule at our front door, but I do not love the tile on the floor. It’s cheap, it’s dirty, the color is awful, and it’s just way too big for the space. I have a strong dislike for large tiles in small spaces. We’ve been putting off this little job for years now, but I think we’re finally ready to do the demo work and start prepping the floor for new tile!

This is what we picked out. I’m not sure if there’s a name for this pattern—it’s almost a basket-weave, but not quite. It looks like marble, but it’s actually some sort of cultured material. I like that it looks old-ish, but not fakey old-ish. And it’s graphic. I like graphic. It’s also pretty inexpensive (Home Depot! In stock!), so we should be able to come in at around $200 for this entire project.

We’re planning to use a very dark gray or black grout. The display at HD used a cream-colored grout, which made the tile look sort of faux-Tuscan (which is decidedly not my thing). I’m excited. This is going to look great. The vestibule is the first thing you see walking into the house, so it should look great, right?

ETA: Here’s a close-up!

Garlic scapes!

Jun 24, 2010

Food + Drink

23 comments

As the next step in my ongoing quest to document weird-looking vegetables, I bring you the garlic scape.

A garlic scape is a shoot that grows from young garlic bulbs. Typically this shoot is cut off by garlic gardeners, as its presence prevents the garlic from growing nice and fat. How nice, then, that garlic scapes happen to be delicious! Reminiscent of garlic, yes, but a little spicy and maybe even a little nutty. Very fresh and summery tasting.

I made a garlic scape pesto as my first foray into garlicscaping (kind of like landscaping, only completely different). It’s a vegan-ized version of this recipe.

Garlic Scape Pesto (vegan)

8 garlic scapes, sliced (cut off the bulb/tip—you just want the rigid “stalk” part)
1/3 cup almonds
3/4 cup olive oil
1/3 cup nutritional yeast
1/2 tsp salt
freshly-ground black pepper

In a food processor, blend the scapes and almonds until evenly chopped and semi-smooth. Pour the olive in slowly through the feed tube while continuing to blend. Scrape down sides, then blend in the nutritional yeast, salt, and pepper. Done!

I got almost two cups of pesto out of this recipe, which is enough to coat at least a couple of pounds of pasta. If you can’t use it up inside of a week, pesto freezes nicely. You can make the defrosting of small portions easier by freezing it in an ice cube tray and storing the cubes in a freezer bag.

We tried the garlic scape pesto with linguine, grape tomatoes, and asparagus. You could really use any kind of veggies, of course!

While the water was boiling and the pasta cooking, I sauteed the grape tomatoes in a little grapeseed oil and salt. They probably cooked for about 25 minutes. I like to let them get soft and a little charred (I prick the skin to let the steam out). In the last 5 minutes, I threw in the sliced asparagus. If there’s anything I hate, it’s overcooked asparagus. Try not to let it stay in the pan for more than 5-7 minutes so it stays crispy.

Drain pasta, toss with enough pesto to coat, place in bowl, top with veggies. Add pepper. Super easy, and incredibly yummy. I have a feeling I’ll be making garlic scape pesto a lot this summer.

p.s. I also made this recipe for White Bean and Garlic Scapes Dip, and it is EXCELLENT. We’ve been using it as a sandwich spread and as a dip for falafel chips all week.

Sometimes “good enough” is good enough.

Jun 21, 2010

Newburgh
The House

98 comments

Office

When we bought our fixer-upper of a house just over four years ago, we entered the renovation process with a mind for perfection. I’m the type of person who either does something perfectly or doesn’t do it at all (resulting, unfortunately, in a great number of things that I never try for fear of “not doing it right”), and Evan, while not quite as obsessive, does like to see things done right and done well, without corners cut.

I can remember thinking that we should strip the old paint (all 3-10 layers of it, depending on the room) off of the moldings before repainting them. I remember looking up historic masons who would do chemical analysis of our mortar before re-pointing our bricks. I remember wondering exactly where we would find horsehair to use when doing proper plaster restoration on our heavily water-damaged kitchen walls.

And then I realized that I did actually want to live in our house (and even enjoy it!) at some point and not just admire it from afar like a museum piece. Ultimately, houses are for living in. Of course I appreciate quality craftsmanship and try to use good materials that won’t need to be replaced or repaired for a good, long time, but sometimes you just have to call “good enough” . . . good enough.

Case in point, the photo above, taken yesterday in my home office. It took us three years (much of it in a state of abandonment/junk storage status) to complete this room, and you’d think in that amount of time that we’d have gotten everything “perfect”. Nope. As if it’s not bad enough that there’s a giant chunk missing from the bottom of the window casing (it had rotted away from water exposure—I cut away the rot and did a quick patching job with Bondo before painting), there’s an entire length of baseboard molding missing behind the chair. Did you notice? Probably. Oh well. It’s good enough!

In order to replace this section of molding, we’d have to bring a sample of the intact pieces to an historic millworker to match. Then, I suppose, we’d have to glob on about 8 coats of paint (peeling it in areas between coats) so that it wouldn’t look “too new” when fitted into place. Ugh, and THEN we’d have to get out the miter saw and match the interior angle of the existing molding . . . math would be involved . . . ugh.

Forget it. I’m calling this “good enough” and pretending it gives the room character. You barely notice it when you’re standing up, anyway.