Twelve years

Twelve years and two months ago, I moved into my first apartment in Manhattan, on the Upper West Side around the corner from Fairway. I didn't think life could get any better, or any more New York. I was in the land of Zabar's, Lincoln Center, and Central Park; any store I could think of was within walking distance; any kind of food I fancied could be delivered to my door; every bar was open till 4 a.m.

When you're 22 and living in New York City for the first time, these are things that matter, the things you think you'll never forget. You're in the Greatest City in the World. Life is like a Meg Ryan movie: every ride on the subway is an adventure, every cup of coffee is romantic, every stroll through a city park, a revelation. To 22-year-old me, tragedy meant breaking up with a boyfriend or bouncing a rent check or forgetting to send out a press release for my boss; I didn't expect anything worse would happen during my first year as a New Yorker.

It's hard for me to talk about 9/11, it always has been. I worked in the Mayor's Office for four years, often writing about the attack, and every word I came up with - and every word I read and edited - never made sense. It all sounded silly, cliche, and I'm so sad that it still does. Nothing I could ever say or write could express what happened, or what it was like to experience the attack from 25 or so blocks away. What's worse is, I've found myself insensitively cringing and rolling my eyes at other people's words; but at the core, I know I'm just yearning to be able to talk about it so freely. I wish I could remember without feeling like I want to completely shut down because I've just been punched repeatedly in the stomach. So instead I pretend that I've moved on, and that it's "cheesy" and "folksy" to discuss 9/11 with any kind of emotion, when really, I don't want to hear about it because I'm still not sure how to process it.

Someday I'll have to tell Jack and Nellie about what happened, and I hope I eventually find the words. Will I tell them every detail? Probably not. I'll be sure to tell them how Grumps (Evan's dad) helped me whip up a huge batch of spaghetti and meatballs for dinner that night; Evan's parents had a few friends who lived near the World Trade Center, and we welcomed them with open arms because they weren't able to go home. I'll most likely leave out how sore I felt waking up on September 12, not realizing that I'd spent the entire previous day tense with fear.

But what I'd really want them to know is that their mother, who had moved to Manhattan a just a few months earlier, a silly 22-year-old girl with dreams of being a famous writer and perhaps marrying Ben Affleck (no, really), officially became a New Yorker that day. 9/11 broke my heart, but being in Manhattan this time twelve years ago also made me see what really made New York City the greatest.

A few things for your Friday afternoon

We have a busy, busy weekend ahead of us: Evan is a groomsman in his friend Mike's wedding, so I'm getting ready to party down three nights in a row (starting tonight with his fiancee Emily's bachelorette party). I'm also getting my first haircut in four months...yahoo!!

We're also apparently going to have to give our daughter another lesson in why she can't always have All the Things. (See above.) The twosome are officially 18-month-olds in every way.

I hope you're all enjoying this autumn preview we're having in the northeast; it's perfect wedding (and hair) weather, so I'm pretty psyched about it. Have a lovely weekend, and if you do nothing else today...

1. Order this. I've been a fan of Dinner a Love Story for a little while now, and I just bought their fantastic cookbook. It's a gem - and so helpful to have all these great dinner ideas in one place.

2. Read this and this.

3. And this, if you haven't already.

4. Oh, and this, because it's hysterical.

Lastly, get up and go outside. Right now. You will not be sorry. And if you're reading this from downtown Manhattan, where I spent so many years running out for a coffee on perfect Friday afternoons like this, make your way to the Seaport, get a cup from here, walk towards the water and just enjoy the view. For me.

Happy Friday, my sweets!!!

Back at it

During our morning walk today, there was the slightest hint of autumn in the air, making me feel like I always do this time of year: alive, giddy, a bit nostalgic. It's September, can you believe it? I've missed writing these past few weeks, but it's been kind of wonderful to completely veg out and embrace the late-August doldrums. Here's a quick rundown of what's been going on:

Goods: Follow me on Pinterest and Twitter! I can be found at gndgoods. Also, if you haven't liked my Facebook page, please do.

Tots: Jack and Nellie will be 18 months old on Friday, and it's blowing my mind. These days it's all about balls, trucks, babies, dogs, shoes, and body parts. Nellie has become obsessed with wearing my scarves, Jack has discovered that hiding under his crib is hilarious. They each say a handful of words, though their speech mostly reminds me of the Friends episode where Phoebe tries to teach Joey how to speak French.

Food: I have some yummy recipes coming up, including one for stuffed zucchini. Evan and I are trying to eat a little healthier these days, I'll be writing about that soon, too. We also managed to get out for a few dinners with friends last month (we love date nights, but sometimes double date nights are even better if it means catching up with old buddies) - can't wait to tell you all about the tasty.

Home: The house search is still on, but we've finally decided that Pelham Manor is where we want to end up. It's super cute, great schools, and it's the closest you can get to the city while still being in Westchester County. So now I'm constantly daydreaming about backyard parties and an eat-in kitchen...

TV: I'm excited for the new season to start but until then, I'm re-watching old episodes of Gilmore girls. The show is so cozy, like your favorite cardigan and a warm cup of tea on a September afternoon.

Books: I recently finished reading Top of the Rock: Inside the Rise and Fall of Must See TV, which was the perfect August book for a TV nerd. Next up is Sisterland by Curtis Sittenfeld (I loved Prep and American Wife). This one also looks interesting.

Fabulousness: I'm a sucker for fall fashion, mostly because I look good in rich colors and with my arms covered. Saving for a house and spending most of the time at the playground means I'm not really in the market for a new wardrobe, but I do love these Madewell flats, pictured above.

Hope you all had a lovely August and that you're as excited about fall as I am. It's good to be back!

Dinner tonight: A midsummer night's meal

Tomatoes, basil, mint, lemon...I might complain about the heat, but I'm definitely enjoying summer's bounty of vegetables and fruit. Last night, after a particularly long day with the tots (ahh, the adventures of bringing two seventeen-month-olds to Fort Greene Park), Evan walked in expecting me to say, "I'm not cooking tonight, what do you want to order?" (He actually walked into a post-bath scene of Jack running naked down the hall and Nellie screaming because, instead of letting her join her brother, I was trying to strap a diaper on her before she peed.) He was pleasantly surprised when I started whipping up an insanely easy dinner that left us both nom-om-om-ing at the table.

The salad: bufala mozzarella and mini red and golden tomatoes with olive oil, sea salt, and basil. Come on now. Thank you Bon Appetit, for the inspiration.

The pasta: linguine with pea and mint pesto. The always helpful Dinner a Love Story was responsible for this deliciousness, though next time I think I'd zap the peas in the microwave to get them really soft before giving them a whirl in the food processor (theirs looks much more green velvet than mine, and I can only guess it's because of softer peas).

The wine: a crisp gruner veltliner from the Wachau region in Austria. It's specifically from the Nikolaihof vineyards, where I visited during my quarter abroad in Vienna; I actually squealed when I discovered the new wine shop near us carried it.

Best part? Tons of leftovers for the tot dinner the next day. 

Except for the wine. That's mama's.

Zut alors!

I've been enamored by all things ohh la la since the fifth grade, when I reluctantly chose France for my oral report on a foreign country. (I'd wanted to do Italy, but Matt Hackett - who I still don't believe is even Italian - got there first by virtue of his name coming before mine alphabetically. Anyway.) We also had to bring in a sample of native cuisine, and my mom suggested I take a baguette, European butter, and some Bonne Maman strawberry preserves. I remember trying it and thinking: nothing is ever going to taste better than this. It's still one of my favorite snacks, and in my head, France equals good bread.

So when I read in the New York Times yesterday that there's been a steady decline in bread consumption throughout Paris, I was both shocked and amused. No more bread?! But of course, the French are on it; there's now a government campaign to remind citizens to buy their beloved pain. It's all about how bread is good for you and can help you avoid weight gain! However, many top bakers are against the campaign because they feel that buying bread should feel special, not part of a daily routine as the ads imply. They insist, and I agree, that bread should equal pleasure. J'adore the French, and this is why.

And this.
And this.
Oh, and this.

But mostly this.

Twin Tuesdays: Two babies in one small space

We love living in Brooklyn, but one thing that's definitely lacking is space. Before the twins were born, our apartment felt pretty roomy, at least by brownstone Brooklyn standards: we had a large bedroom, a nice-sized kitchen, a huge living room, and even a separate dining area. One year, we even hosted our families for Christmas Eve! It was fantastic. But add two more humans and their stuff (and even if you live as pared-down as we do, babies still come with a lot of stuff) and you've got yourself a "four's a crowd" situation.  

Still, we've made it work, and Jack and Nellie's nursery, which used to be our 8x10 foot dining room, is hands down my favorite room in the apartment. Here's a peek into their little world, as well as six tips for making a small space work for your little ones.

1. Nix the gigantic crib(s). There are some grandiose cribs out there; they're not really our style, but even if they were, there was no way we were going to get two in our teeny nursery. We wanted something simple and classic, so we went with white Jenny Lind-style cribs. They create a small profile, and they're so sweet looking. We added Serena and Lily sheets (we saved money on the cribs so we could splurge a little on the sheets!) and blankets, and handmade blankets given to us by my great-aunt Marion.

2. Choose a "friendly" wall color and keep the walls clutter-free. The rest of our apartment is pretty neutral, but we wanted something a little brighter and more kid-like for the nursery. I'd seen Benjamin Moore's Robin's Nest used one some design blogs, and I just fell in love. It's the perfect soft aqua, and it kind of acts like a neutral. We used a lot of yellow accents, as well as light pinks and blue. The point here is to keep the room bright and airy.

3. Buy Ikea, then make it your own. Evan and I buy a lot of our furniture and accessories at Ikea, and many times our friends have been shocked to find out that's where it's from. Why? A few reasons: one, we mostly buy pieces from the Hemnes collection, which is our aesthetic (clean lines, real wood, classic details) and we mostly buy it in white, because it just looks "richer." It's one of the pricier collections at Ikea, but still cheaper than shopping at the Big Three (Crate and Barrel/West Elm/Pottery Barn) so we like it. Two, we add our own touch to anything we buy from there; specifically in the nursery, we used Anthropologie knobs on an Ikea armoire (the nursery doesn't have a closet), and we prettied up a changing table with cute polka-dotted cover and some baskets from Pottery Barn Kids. Three, we mix it with other non-Ikea furniture, which leads me to...

4. Use what you have. On July 4, 2011, Evan and I went with his parents to their country house in the Hudson Valley. We were helping them clean out their basement, when we came across his mom's sweet old dresser. It was not in great shape, but I thought it was adorable. Evan and I had just started trying to have a baby a few weeks earlier, and casually mention to his parents that we would love that dresser if and when a baby arrived. (Little did we know, I was already pregnant; I took a drugstore test when we got back to Brooklyn and a few weeks later we found out it was twins!) Evan's dad cleaned, sanded, and painted the dresser, we added Anthropologie knobs that matched the ones on the armoire, and the rest is history. It's one of my favorite pieces, just so sweet.

We found this little table down my parents' basement, and it was dark brown and a little sad looking. A few coats of white paint later, and it was the perfect addition to the room, along with the floor lamp that we already had.

5. Make it memorable. As you may have noticed, I love mixing the old with the new, and in the nursery we did that with decor as well as necessary furniture. The yellow art above the cribs and the pink alphabet poster are from Etsy. The animal print on the bookshelves is actually a Paper Source gift bag that I loved and repurposed. The "you are my sunshine" print was a gift from our dear friends Rick and Jess. Nellie and Jack have a TON of books, but only the most special ones are on display. I love how perfect Where the Wild Things Are fits with decor; the book was a gift from my sweet friend Nikki, who cried and spilled her drink when I told her I was pregnant with twins. The Peter Rabbit book set? New. The Peter Rabbit cup and saucer? Evan's from when he was a baby. The bunnies on the bookshelves are from the Brooklyn Flea, and were one of the first things Evan and I bought for them. The bunny cards on top of the armoire are from Uncle Matt, Auntie Ellen, and Luke, three of the twins' favorite people. Every time I go into their nursery, it's like a little walk down memory lane, and I can't wait to share all the stories with Jack and Nellie.

5. Everything has a place. This is kind of a mantra for small-space living. Everything has a place, and it should be kept in that place and put back in that place, lest a mess erupts. I'm a liiiiiittle anal when it comes to this, but it's really worked in their room, and it helps keep the sanity (not 100%, but it does help). So whether it's clothes, bows, blankets, diapers, bunnies, books...figure out where everything goes and then just put it back at the end of the day. Seriously. You'll thank me.

Twin Tuesdays: Riding in cars with babies

(Yes, yes, I know it's Wednesday...bear with me.)

A few months ago, I talked about our rules for traveling with toddlers in a car, which has been our exclusive mode of transportation on trips since the twins arrived. And although we're cityfolk, we also use the car a lot locally; we find it easier to get around Brooklyn with a car and we even drive it into Manhattan on the weekends (Sundays are the best because there are virtually no parking rules).

Jack and Nellie are middle-of-the-road car passengers: it's not their favorite place in the world, but it's also not The Worst (these days that's the changing table, but that's a story for another day). They still face the back of the car, which is really starting to bug me. Any time there is a back seat meltdown, I think to myself, if they were facing forward, this would be so much easier.

But it has been recommended by the American Association of Pediatrics that we keep them facing backward until they're two. AT LEAST.

Now, I know this is just a recommendation, not the law, but I'm still reluctant to change their seat positions until next March. It somehow feels different to me than the AAP's recommendation to breastfeed exclusively for a year (I didn't) or to take your child to the dentist before age one (I haven't and am dreading the day that I finally do). There is part of me that rationalizes, not following those recommendations won't lead to anything fatal. The car seat thing...might?

But only if we get into a horrific car accident, right? And would they really be ok if it were that bad, no matter which way they were facing? And what if, instead, we got into an accident while I was walking to the third row of our mini-van because that's where Jack threw his doggie? Wouldn't everyone, mom included, be a little safer if they faced forward?

What do you guys think of this? Have you switched your toddler's car seat before the two year mark? What about car seats on city buses? Taxis? Doesn't it seem like the rules are bent in those situations? I would love to hear your thoughts.

Meanwhile, if you're driving down the BQE and you see my bum sticking up in the air between the second row of seats, you'll now know why.

Icebox Cake

My lovely sister Maria was in town over the weekend, and I was so excited to have her. I knew it meant a weekend of gossiping over lots of wine, ordering Chinese food, and having a third set of hands around to help with the twins. Oh, and dessert.

I've never made an icebox cake before, and I've only ever had it once, when my friend Kara brought it from Magnolia Bakery one night while I was on bed rest and craving cake every day. It's delicious, creamy, and a cinch to make because it's essentially two ingredients: whipped cream and cookies. 

I added a little bit of sugar to my cream, because I know that's how Maria likes it (she's a little addicted to the stuff, though you'd never know it because she also runs half-marathons and is a size 2) but you don't have to. Classic icebox cake calls for Nabisco chocolate wafer cookies, but they are oddly hard to find - you can order them on Amazon if you're thinking ahead, but I haven't seen any in supermarkets around here. So instead, I used Oreos...or actually organic chocolate cream cookies, which were all Evan could find at the corner market (ahh, hipster Brooklyn) in a pinch. And although I scoffed at them at first, they tasted exactly like Oreos.

Once you have your cookies and cream (you can also use Cool Whip if that's your thing; I will snobbishly admit that it's not mine) you can assemble your cake. My refrigerator was packed and I didn't want to risk bumping the cake into anything, so I built it in a trifle dish. You can make it stand alone on a plate, in a few different ways; the most popular are the classic round cake and the log. Basically, you layer the cookies and whipped cream until you're done. Then refrigerate for at least six hours. Everything melds together, and the cookies get soft and cakey, it's wonderful.

A few tips:

1. Don't overdo it on the whipped cream. This recipe, adapted from the Magnolia Bakery cookbook, says 1/2 cup per layer...I probably did closer to a cup so it didn't have quite the stripey chocolate-and-cream affect I was looking for. And it was a little too much cream on the palate.

2. Oreos are a delicious choice, but the cream center kind of messes with the classic pudding-like texture of an icebox cake. Just FYI...

3. It doesn't have to be just chocolate and whipped cream.  Use thin chocolate chip cookies (like Tate's, yummm) and chocolate mousse, graham crackers and lemon cream, shortbread thins and strawberry cream. Use your imagination or check out these ideas.

4. If you have leftover whipped cream, throw some in your iced coffee, you won't be sorry.

Daydreaming of houses (and autumn)

The babes and I have spent most of this week in our air-conditioned living room and I'm about one Nellie-style mezzo soprano scream away from losing my mind. Seriously. I mean, I was just about to hit "publish" on a 500+ word post largely about the movie Stepmom, I'm not kidding (it's been on my mind lately because it takes place in what's supposed to be Westchester County, where we're looking for a house...and there are a lot of autumn scenes in it, and I'm jonesing for a cardigan and some apple pie...but still). For your sake, dear readers, I've left only the highlights, with a few rewrites:


October is 80 days away. Whoop! Sweater weather! Good hair days! Leaves! (Julia's hat!)

So here's something that might not be surprising: I have a thing for movie and television houses. Like a minor obsession. Like I know Stepmom is pretty terrible yet I will watch it multiple times just to look at the house. (That's it, above, in all it's wintry glory.) Same goes for Family Stone. (And Something's Gotta Give, but I really do like that one.) There was a brief moment last year where Evan and I were very close to moving (again) to the Bay Area and I actually said to him, "We can do it, but I want to live in Berkeley, like the Bravermans." (There were many reasons why we didn't move, and this was not one of them.) Luckily, a brilliant woman created Hooked on Houses, which is basically an extremely comprehensive database of cool houses from movies and television shows. She has them ALL! I know...are you laughing at me? Is there anyone else out there who shares my sickness?? (Parentheses!)

This weekend we're taking a ride up to Irvington and Pleasantville to poke around and drive by some homes that are on the market. Our budget right now (especially for tony Westchester towns) is more 3-bedroom Cape than 5-bedroom Colonial, but I'm hopeful. We need to find something. Because where our sweet apartment used to look like this:

It now looks like this:

Have a great weekend! Temps going down to the 80s!!!!

*Photo of the Stepmom house is from hookedonhouses.net

Boston Children Museum's Secret Parent Agenda

Have you seen the new ad campaign for the Boston Children's Museum? Hilarious and brilliant.

Dinner tonight: Ina Garten's turkey sausage lasagna

Ah, lasagna. That high-calorie and hearty dish. Fans include Garfield the cat and Joey Tribbiani. Its newest addicts? Jack and Nellie Hill-Ries. I actually had to cut them off at dinner last night, a huge change from earlier in the week when Jack had to be lovingly coaxed into eating half a peanut butter sandwich. Now, I realize that 97-degree weather may not be ideal for eating mountains of pasta and cheese, but it's a comfortable 70 in our apartment, and this bakes in just 30 minutes, so I went for it. Dinner success!

Ina Garten manages to make everything special, and her turkey sausage lasagna has just enough twists to make the classic dish extraordinary. First: turkey sausage. Lighter than ground beef or pork, more flavorful than ground turkey. Second: fresh herbs. Her recipe calls for a good amount of fresh basil and parsley, which freshens up each bite. Third, and perhaps most important: the addition of goat cheese to the classic ricotta/parmesan/egg mixture. It's subtle but pretty darn amazing.

Recipe adapted from Barefoot Contessa Family Style, one of my favorite cookbooks

2 tablespoons olive oil
1 cup chopped yellow onion (1 onion)
2 garlic cloves, minced
1 1/2 pounds sweet Italian turkey sausage, casings removed
1 (28-ounce) can crushed tomatoes in tomato puree
1 (6-ounce) can tomato paste
1/4 cup chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley, divided
1/2 cup chopped fresh basil leaves
2 teaspoons kosher salt
3/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1/2 pound lasagna noodles (I used a pound of farfalle, see note below)
15 ounces ricotta cheese
3 to 4 ounces creamy goat cheese, crumbled
1 cup grated Parmesan, plus 1/4 cup for sprinkling
1 extra-large egg, lightly beaten
1 pound fresh mozzarella, thinly sliced

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees F.

Heat the olive oil in a large (10 to 12-inch) skillet. Add the onion and cook for 5 minutes over medium-low heat, until translucent. Add the garlic and cook for 1 more minute. Add the sausage and cook over medium-low heat, breaking it up with a fork, for 8 to 10 minutes, or until no longer pink. Add the tomatoes, tomato paste, 2 tablespoons of the parsley, the basil, 1 1/2 teaspoons of the salt, and 1/2 teaspoon pepper. Simmer, uncovered, over medium-low heat, for 15 to 20 minutes, until thickened.

Meanwhile, fill a large bowl with the hottest tap water. Add the noodles and allow them to sit in the water for 20 minutes. Drain.

In a medium bowl, combine the ricotta, goat cheese, 1 cup of Parmesan, the egg, the remaining 2 tablespoons of parsley, remaining 1/2 teaspoon salt, and 1/4 teaspoon pepper. Set aside.

Ladle 1/3 of the sauce into a 9 by 12 by 2-inch rectangular baking dish, spreading the sauce over the bottom of the dish. Then add the layers as follows: half the pasta, half the mozzarella, half the ricotta, and one 1/3 of the sauce. Add the rest of the pasta, mozzarella, ricotta, and finally, sauce. Sprinkle with 1/4 cup of Parmesan. Bake for 30 minutes, until the sauce is bubbling.

Note: I used farfalle instead of lasagna noodles because that's the only short pasta I had in the pantry. I've used classic lasagna noodles and rigatoni for this dish, but I like the farfalle the best. They're fairly flat, so it felt like a layer of noodles (as opposed to the rigatoni, which just gets combined with everything), but since they're short, it was easy to break up and feed to toddlers. It was a major hit with the entire family, and it makes a ton, so we'll be having leftovers tonight.

Twin Tuesdays: Habana Outpost Baby Breakfast

A typical Tuesday, in a heatwave, before babies: I consume a venti iced coffee from Starbucks while attempting to look cute and professional and not sweaty, even though the temperature in the subway station I just stepped out of was flirting with 105 degrees. After ten hours in an office where I have to don a cardigan because the air was that conditioned, I meet Evan and some friends at Habana Outpost for tacos, margaritas, and delicious Mexican corn on the cob. I go to bed tipsy, happy, and sleep undisturbed until 7 a.m.

A typical Tuesday, in a heatwave, after babies: I consume homemade coffee that used to be iced, but after morning toy negotiations, yogurt clean up, four readings of Dear Zoo, and two poopy diapers, it's now just sort of lukewarm with a pool of melted ice floating on top. I dress two testy, squirmy 16-month-olds (who'd rather be naked) in adorable outfits and dash into my bedroom to dress myself, attempting to look not like a woman who just escaped from a mental institution. I meet my friend Shirin and her son, Sy, for Baby Breakfast at Habana Outpost.

It's different in the daylight: there are toys strewn around the courtyard where I'm sure at least a dozen people spilled frozen mojitos the night before (but it's been cleaned). Picnic tables are empty, a rarity for this popular spot. Shirin and I grab a seat, let the kids loose, and commiserate about how toddlers are jerks sometimes. Everyone wears themselves out, I order some chicken fingers for them to eat with the overpriced organic cantaloupe I purchased next door at my favorite local market. After a too-short nap, I spend the afternoon pulling them away from the television cabinet, which we just released from it's baby-gated prison and turned into baby catnip. Facetime with Nanna, baths, night-night, pad thai, two enormous glasses of wine. I go to bed tipsy, happy, and wake up every few hours thinking I hear someone crying but don't really until 4 a.m., when I mumble to Evan, "just give him a pacifier and make sure he has Doggie," and try to go back to sleep till 7 but instead restlessly check Redfin to see if there are any new houses on the market in Pleasantville.

The Baby Breakfast at Habana Outpost gives Brooklyn parents and caregivers a place to chill on Tuesdays from 10-noon while their 0- to 4-year-olds (though it's best for walkers and swaddled infants with moms who need some company) discover new toys and splash in the fountain. It's co-hosted by My Brooklyn Baby, which sells awesome popsicle makers and other fanciful kid-related items. Habana Outpost's full menu is served, and the courtyard is almost completely shaded in the mornings. We'll be there next Tuesday, and if this heatwave keeps up, it may then be time for a 10 a.m. margarita. See you there!

Screen time

A few years ago, Evan and I gave up on cable and decided to subscribe to Hulu Plus and Netflix instead. It helps to have a techie husband - I only half understand the computer-as-television thing. There's a lot I miss about cable, like the Food Network and HGTV, but for the most part, it's made me a better television viewer. I only watch shows and movies that I love; I don't fall prey to whatever crazy reality show is on that night, and I don't get sucked into whatever movie TBS is airing for the millionth time.

Lately, though, there's been a drought. It's summer, so it's all reruns and America's Next Pickup Artist, etc. Instead, I've been watching a lot of Friends on DVD, and Evan and I have taken to rewatching Alias on Netflix on Demand (it's great, even the second time around). Still, I'd love to have some new shows in DVD rotation (god bless Friends, but I've watched each episode so many times that I feel like that doctor, in the one where Phoebe has the triplets, who is obsessed with Fonzie and...well, you see where I'm going with this).

Last night I remembered that the Writers Guild of America recently put together a list of the 101 best written television shows. Friends is number 24, and other favorites like the West Wing and Friday Night Lights are on there, too. Evan told me to put together a list of the shows I would like to watch, and he'd see what he could do about finding them (many of them aren't on Netflix, annoyingly). These are my top 10:

Thirtysomething

The Sopranos
MASH
Northern Exposure
Murphy Brown

Will and Grace
Moonlighting
LA Law
St. Elsewhere
Seinfeld

Of course, when I sent Evan the list, he made fun of me: "MASH?! Moonlighting?! Who are you?" Hmmm. Looks like I'm my parents...in the '80s.

Wouldn't it be fun to marathon these shows? Which would you want to have at your disposal?

P.S. Friends sometimes gets a bad rap - my brother recently chided me for saying it was just as good a comedy as Seinfeld - but I really do think it's a terrific, seminal television series. If you're a fan, here's an interesting article from the May 2012 issue of Vanity Fair.

P.P.S. Did the title mislead you? We generally don't have the television on in front of Jack and Nellie except for some news in the morning. I will, from time to time, play them "Elmo's Ducks" or "Elmo's Got the Moves" on YouTube if we're inside and it's after dinner and I'm starting to lose it a little. Nellie prefers the Ducks, but Jack likes the Moves because for a second and half there is a singing beach ball, and well, that just about makes his week.

P.P.P.S. The photo is not mine, I took it off a Friends fansite, and I'm pretty sure it's not theirs either. Anyway, it looks like they're watching television, right? Wrong. They're looking at Ross who's trying to settle the bet of who knows who better, the guys or the girls. I told you I need a new show to watch.

Searching for new bed linens

Lately, I've had the (re)decorating itch. But since we're hoping to be out of our apartment by the time the twins turn two (a house hunt is in full swing, more on that later!), we don't really want to put a ton of money or work in prettying up our pad right now. I'm hoping to satisfy the itch with some new bedding - it's a great way to freshen up your space without a major overhaul. Plus, a beautiful place to lay your head after a long day is the perfect way to pamper yourself, which is totally my mission these days.

Our bedroom right now has a lot of light blues, grays, beige/golds...fresh, serene, and spa-like (when it's not a mess). A few years ago, Evan and I stayed at the Hotel Vitale in San Francisco, and I fell in love/became obsessed with the look of their guestrooms. So, in keeping with that mood, here are my top picks:

Gorgeous and greige from Serena and Lily.

Subtle and sea-inspired from Pottery Barn.

Pretty and peaceful from West Elm.

Moody and rich, also from West Elm.

Or we could scrap the whole spa look altogether and go for this lovely, sunny ensemble from Serena and Lily.

What do you think?

Dinner tonight: Summertime slow cooker

I've had a head cold since coming back from Maine, so I haven't really been in the mood to cook this week. Thank goodness for the slow cooker. We haven't used it since winter, but after seeing this piece from Mark Bittman in the NY Times Magazine last week, I was completely on board with breaking it out in the consistently 90 degree heat. 

You've all heard me sing the praises of beans, and Bittman's non-recipe (more of a game plan) is perfect for making beans without rendering any heat in the kitchen. Just plug in the slow cooker and go on with your day. Here's the deal: pick a few items from the below, throw them in your crockpot, and in a few hours you have a delicious, healthy (especially after a week of fried clams and old fashioneds) stew. 

Last night, I tried lentils, kale, sausages, and onion - all braised in vegetable stock and white wine. It was a little on the wintry side, but it felt good and warming with my cold. Nellie and Jack were suspicious at first (Jack kept looking at the plate, then at me, then back at the plate, then at me - I'll admit, it's not the prettiest thing I've ever cooked) but once they tried it, they dug in. 

Later this week, I'm going to try the example in the photo...looks delicious, and a little lighter, yes? Would you cook with your crockpot during a heatwave?

*Top photo is mine (I need a new camera and a lesson in food styling). Bottom photo is, obviously, from the NY Times Magazine. Please click on the link to see the full-size photo, it's gorgeous.

Twin Tuesdays: Our 4th of July

About ten years ago, my parents bought a tiny, lovely beach house on Drakes Island, a tidal island near Wells, Maine. We'd been going to the area since we were kids, and it was so exciting to finally have a place of "our own." It's really the perfect little house to kick back and relax - and it's a seven minute walk to the beach!

Evan, the twins, and I hung out there all last week with my brother and his family, my sister, and my mom and dad. It's about a six hour drive from NYC, so we followed our first rule of toddler travel and left at night. When we woke up the next day, it was too hot to do anything other than lounge around, and that we did...along with plenty of laughing, drinking, and lobster eating.

The Island held a casual 4th of July parade, and my parents decorated the wagon for J and N. It was adorable!

They had a little bit of competition, but I think they held their own.

Jack's current list of things that "wow" him includes balls, dogs, and balloons. His mind was blown several times last week.

We gave our stroller a break, and the wagon became the twins' primary mode of transportation. (Also, how cute is Nellie's lobster dress??)

We had so much fun hanging around the house and catching up with everyone.

And then, of course, the beach.

We also spent last July 4th at the Maine house...look how much these kids have grown (though Nellie is still not amused)!

We miss everyone already and we're hoping to get back up to the house at least one more time this summer. It's no wonder Maine's slogan is "the way life should be." What a wonderful week!