Cousin dinner at San Sabino
RECS #26: More Lorrie Moore, a quick trip to D.C., and my return to movie-going.
Dear friends,
At Thanksgiving the other day, we were asked to write what we were thankful for on a small piece of paper for a game we played during dinner. The point was to be precise and unambiguous. I wrote “Trader Joe’s unexpected cheddar,” which is true, but I also was tempted to put Barrow Street Ale House, which has ensured that trivia remains a part of my weekly routine. I thought of run club, and how it’s introduced me to a previously unknown community that has made my world feel more tightly woven together. I thought of the MTA that is so often delayed and unkempt, but that connects me to all my favorite people who’ve, over the years, scattered themselves throughout the city. I considered writing iMessage, Facetime, and plain old calling—and all the other ways that I feel connected to those who live further than a subway ride away. The list goes on, but mostly, I’m grateful for the people and places that fill up my life.
READING: Lorrie Moore’s tiny début novel, “Who Will Run the Frog Hospital?” was my second venture into Moore’s quirky, off-kilter, and funny stories. Perhaps it’s recency bias, but I’ve told a few people that I think “Who Will Run the Frog Hospital?” has earned its place as one of my five favorite books from the past year. I’ll leave the other four a mystery for now, but this is a whimsical and jittery portrait of coming-of-age. It’s an abortion novel that approaches the subject plainly and without any moralizing. The two characters at the center of the story spend their adolescence in platonic love with one another. And, when they eventually grow apart, it is merely a byproduct of growing up and moving on from one’s home town. It is a poignant little book as much as it is a humorous one. When I finished, I began “The Age of Innocence,” by Edith Wharton, which has delicious sentences like, “Few things seemed to Newland Archer more awful than an offense against Taste.” I’m so delighted to be transported to Gilded Age New York.


EATING: On a whim a couple weekends ago, I decided to take the bus down to D.C. to visit with Tara and a few of Conor’s closest friends and family. For dinner on a rainy Friday night, Tara and I had a reservation at Lapis, an Afghan restaurant in Adams Morgan that has been recommended to me by everyone I know that frequents the city. I’d been once before for brunch, but was eager to return for dinner to try all their stews, curries, dumplings, and flatbreads. Tara and I shared everything. We started with the bolani, a stuffed flatbread, which we got with leeks and onion-potato. These are soft, packed with flavor, and served with chutney and a minty yogurt. We then moved on to shrimp dumplings coated in a saffron cream sauce which were, in both of our opinions, the highlight of the meal. Delicate, complex, and comforting. The buranee bademjan we ordered next, was an eggplant dish. It was delicious, but the skin on the eggplant was a bit tough and bitter. The menu at Lapis is robust, so I fully intend to go back on a future visit. When we arrived back in the city on Sunday evening, my sisters and I joined our cousin at San Sabino, Don Angie’s seafood-forward sister restaurant. It was a festive and filling way to kick off the holiday season. We ordered more than half the menu, and while my spicy garlic bread martini was weird, everything else was scrumptious. The highlights for me were the tricolore sabino, an endive salad with a caesar-y dressing, topped with piave and nori. A well-done, simple salad is, to me, the difference between a good meal and a great one. The pepperoni carbonara was the standout among the three pastas we ordered—the other two being the lobster triangoli and the stuffed farfalle. It was a creamy, spicy, and surprising take on a classic Italian dish. Molly Baz has a pepperoni fried rice recipe in her latest cookbook, and in the introduction, she writes that pepperoni is a tragically underutilized ingredient. This pasta certainly confirmed that argument. Of the two entreés we got, the shrimp parm and steak “magazzino,” the steak remains the favorite. It was breaded, which is almost never something I’d gravitate towards, but the coating was more for texture than anything else, so it didn’t add weight to an already heavy dish. And, it was topped with a delectable anchovy chili crisp.



CONSUMING: It’s that time of year when I return to my love of movie-watching. The weather is colder, awards season is approaching, and I simply want to spend more time inside, so I turn to movies. A lot of them are rewatches (“The Holdovers,” “The Holiday,” “Bridget Jones’s Diary”), but I also try every year, to varying degrees of success, to watch all the best picture nominees, so I indulge in plenty of new films, too. Recently, I sat beside Conor on opening night of “Wicked,” which was exhilarating and wonderful. It was too long, and I feel strongly that there’s a lot of exposition at the beginning that the film doesn’t require. It also feels, as others have pointed out, desaturated and muted in a world that should feel explosively colorful. I expected the greens of Oz to feel dizzying and the costumes to light up the choreography of each song—as it was in “The Wizard of Oz.” Don’t get me wrong, I adored this movie, and I’ve been listening to the soundtrack on repeat since I saw it. But, it is not without its flaws. Over Thanksgiving weekend, I watched “Saturday Night” with my family, and “Anora” by myself. The former really only works if you have an intimate knowledge of SNL’s history and its original cast. Otherwise, you spend the entire length of the film Googling different people, sketches, and conflicts that the film expects its audience to know, and therefore, gives no context for. The latter was brilliant. I’ve enjoyed the other Sean Baker films that I’ve seen—particularly “The Florida Project.” My only qualm was that I wish we knew more about the characters who make up “Anora,” especially Ani. Otherwise, this movie was sexy, heartbreaking, honest, and funny. I was completely rapt up in Ani and Vanya’s Brighton Beach world.



SAVORING: Since I graduated college, I feel like I haven’t experienced the total and uninhibited relaxation that used to come at holiday breaks. The kind where everyone was preoccupied with their own families or out of town, so that any obligations ceased to exist and all there was to do was eat, sleep, and watch movies. This past weekend felt close to that. It was bitterly cold, and as friends crept back to New York, I met up for very casual drinks. Otherwise, though, I spent a lot of time horizontal. It was fantastic.
Until next time,
Erin
In the coming days, I’m hoping to ease back into my routines. But, I’m eager to attend the friends & family opening of the new Sushi Counter location in the East Village. This Friday also marks the beginning of the holiday party rush, and I’ll be in Delaware the rest of the weekend with Conor and his family.