Speed Dating?

My friend Lynne wants me to go speed-dating with her.  I have no interest in spending money to meet random people for strained conversations, but I told her I would think about it.  Now I am working on proving to her that you can meet people in places other than online or at speed dating events.  So far the results have been mixed, but the experiment is eye-opening.  

Here is the theory: Do not go out of your way to talk to men, but be pleasant.  Pay your own way.  The guys should give the impression of being quality people.  Give out your number, but then go your own way.  He must initiate contact.

Results:

1. The Parisian.  Met him while walking home from the subway.  He is a journalist for a French language tv program and just moved to NYC from DC but originally from Paris.  Got coffee in the neighborhood, absolute creep, called me snobby (among other things) and then said if I was a “cooler girl” he would have invited me to an inaugural ball.  I responded that I hope to never see him again and I would never consider going anywhere with him. Negative.
2. Glacier.  This was a friend of a friend’s friend.  Went to Northwestern, has lived in London, engineer for a medical device company.  Really into hiking and the outdoors (hence the name).  Things started out well, over tapas I discovered that we have a scary amount of things in common, including religious views (rare in NYC).  Had another great dinner and then watched the superbowl with my roommates. Sadly not attracted to him at all so didn’t want to lead him along.  Very positive, but couldn’t force it.
3. John from Jakes.  Out in the neighborhood with some girlfriends.  They wanted to go out; I wanted to go to bed. We were at a very quiet bar, I tried awake at the bar and the guy next to me was building a structure out of straws and coasters.  Cute smile and funny, but he was a “regular” at the bar.  Decided that being a regular at a dive bar was probably a bad sign.  Made worse by inviting me to the same bar the next two nights in a row.  Could be fun to hang out with, but a no. Kind of stopped texting back and forth.  Neutral to slightly positive.
4. Palestinian.  Born and raising in Abu Dhabi, worked in Dubai and now in grad school at Columbia. Met him while I was at a bar for a friend’s birthday party.  Good conversation while sitting with a couple of friends.  Then he stood up and came up to my nose while I was in high heels. He was written off at first, but trying not to be shallow. TBD, plus he invited me ice-skating (without knowing that I rock at iceskating) so that gets points.
5. Brian.  No nickname.  Works for a general contractor that builds sky scrapers and trying to pass the architecture certification exams. Also met through a friend of a friend’s friend at a houseparty.  Very nice, fun the night we met, but then we met for coffee in West Village (awesome coffee shop called Café Reggio, you should check it out).  He was friendly but boring, loves cruise ships and didn’t do any activities in high school or college.  Blah.  Neutral because nice guy, but after 30 minutes I had nothing else to talk about.

Conclusion: Plenty of friendly and quality guys in NYC.  Didn't kiss a single guy (although Parisian tried even after said I never wanted to see him again). Just being open rather than my previous “Can I get your number?” response of “I don’t think so".

Easier to meet people than expected.

Inaguration

A Plane Fell Into the Hudson

How crazy is that?  Hundreds of buildings with an extremely dense population, and the plane manages to "land" where no one on the ground could get hurt.  THEN every single person in the plane survives both the crash and the rescue in 20 degrees temperature, while standing on a sinking plane wing in the middle of a river, in January.  What a great story, I have nothing to add, but wow, I'm impressed.

Ok, just one thing to add.  I'm really dissappointed I wasn't at my home office that day, because there is a strong chance I could have seen the drama unfold from the windows.

Clinton's Irony

Lobster Risotto

I love to cook.  I love making delicious dishes, trying new techniques, reading recipe books, and eating new foods.  A couple of weeks ago the NYTimes had an article about how the recession has depressed the demand and the price for lobster.  Its still pricy, my local grocer lobsters are being sold for $9.99/ lb.  And there is a lot of shell and uneatable parts of the lobster.  But I was still intrigued, and the taste is pure luxury.  Then for Christmas I received a cookbook from my grandmother featuring the cuisine of Nantucket, obviously it was full of seafood dishes and plenty of options for lobsters.  The stage was set.

Thankfully I am also blessed with a friend who has comparable culinary interests and has worked at restaurants on vacation islands so would understand the inspiration to find a menu that would compliment our chosen ingredient.  To be frugal, we just went for a 1-pounder and would need a dish to use the flavoring, but not require too much meat.  The cookbook offered a recipe for lobster risotto and with the addition of spinach it seemed like the perfect dish.  Each brought skills to the table.  She knew how to cook and extract the meat from our beast and I'd previously made risotto.  It was a great evening with good food and good company, but was stood out was how those small pieces of lobster just suddenly transported you to summer.  My family doesn't even eat much lobster, but the flavor just felt like you were on Nantucket (or Block Island for my friend).

The feeling lingered for a couple of days.  I found myself thinking about preppy things - boats, seersucker, croquet, ect.  Debating if I need a pair of Nantucket red pants, do I own a pair of ribbon sandals, am I going to a polo match over the summer (that question is just ridiculous).  Images of families in khaki with little blonde haired boys in navy jackets.  Not my life, but picturesque and all inspired by the price of a large crawfish.

I'm going to have to come up with another night that transports us to a new locale.  Maybe "boteoning" (not how its spelled) in Spain.