Alizarine

Two Good Dips (One Is Ugly)

Since my big New York adventure with Poof, I've returned to my comfortable groove of painting, cooking, watching television, having fun with Jeff, and not blogging. I just haven't had much to write about! We've been eating great food, but I've already shared those recipes. They can't all be new, and I'm fond of repetition.

But! Borders went out of business earlier this month. Jeff and I were the kind of Borders customers that people at our local store knew by name. Well, at least they knew me. They knew of Jeff. Before he and I met, I was a particularly brazen Borders junkie, and every Saturday morning I could be found browsing the store's diabolical assortment of items that seemed specifically targeted to my interests (books, music, movies, and magazines), desperate for a fix. The enigmatic Saturday morning manager guy, who was usually the only person working the cash registers, would comment on my purchases. Normally I'd find this behavior annoying and judgmental, but it's also kind of nice when one's impeccable taste is applauded. Also he may or may not have been hitting on me, but I'm usually pretty clueless in this arena, and anyway he wore a wedding band and was not really my type. But he liked me in red, that's for sure. I felt kind of bad for him when Jeff and I started coming in together, first dating, then engaged, then married and disgustingly happy. And now his store is gone. Where are you now, Borders Guy?

So when we heard that Borders was going out of business, Jeff and I were sad, but then we thought about those big, big discounts and our inevitable Last Binge. We popped our heads in during those first few weeks, but 20% off on books didn't seem like much of an incentive, especially when that kind of pricing is the norm at Amazon. As time passed, the discounts increased, and during the final week of liquidation we struck, loading up on three volumes from the picked-over cookbook section that we normally wouldn't have purchased. Jeff got On The Line, a book about Eric Ripert's Le Bernadin restaurant. I picked up Simply Delicioso, "a collection of everyday recipes with a Latin twist" by Ingrid Hoffman, who had a show on the Food Network for about a year, and Pretty Delicious, "lean and lovely recipes for a healthy, happy new you" by Candice Kumai, a person I do not remember from Top Chef.

So far both cookbooks have been hit and miss. Ingrid's black bean dip was delicious, but her truffles flopped. Candice's spinach and artichoke dip became the best recipe of the summer, and we would eat it every single day if we could, but her yakitori and dumplings weren't worth the hassle. So I've decided to give you the dip recipes.

[Break: I've just seen this unbelievable video for the first time, and now you need to see it, too.]

 

No no no no no no no no no no!

Back to the dips!

SPINACH AND ARTICHOKE DIP

INGREDIENTS

• 2 Tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
• 1 yellow onion, finely chopped
• 4 garlic cloves, minced
• 2 cans (14 ounces each) water-packed artichoke hearts, drained, rinsed and thinly sliced
• 1 bunch fresh spinach or baby spinach (about 5 ounces), coarsely chopped
• 8 ounces 1/3-less-fat Neufchatel cream cheese, at room temperature
• 1 cup light mayonnaise
• 1/3 cup (about 2 ounces) grated Parmesan cheese
• 1 large baguette, cut on the diagonal into 1/2-inch-thick slices and toasted

DIRECTIONS

Preheat the oven to 375°F. Coat an 8-inch baking dish with cooking spray. I used a 2-quart oval baking dish.

Heat 1 tablespoon of the olive oil in a medium nonstick skillet over medium-low heat. Add the onion and garlic and cook until the onion is golden brown, about 3 minutes, stirring often. Add the artichoke hearts and a few cups of the spinach, turning the mixture over until the spinach leaves wilt. Add the remaining spinach and continue to cook until all the leaves are wilted, about 5 minutes. Set aside to cool.

Stir the cream cheese, mayonnaise, and 1/4 cup of the Parmesan together in a large bowl until creamy. Add the cooked spinach mixture and stir to combine. Scrape the mixture into the baking dish and sprinkle with the remaining Parmesan. Bake until the Parmesan is golden brown, about 30 minutes.

Serve with the toasted baguette slices.

Note: this makes 12 servings and is totally delicious. We eat it for supper on a regular basis. Trust me on this one.

BLACK BEAN DIP

INGREDIENTS

• 2 tablespoons olive oil
• 1 medium yellow onion, chopped
• 2 garlic cloves, chopped
• 1 15-ounce cans black beans, drained and rinsed
• 1/2 teaspoon ground cumin
• Red pepper flakes (Optional) <-- I think a couple of shakes really help this dip
• Salt
• 6-ounce container plain yogurt
• 2 large tomatoes, halved, cored, seeded and finely diced <-- I only had one on hand
• 1/2 cup chopped fresh cilantro leaves, for serving <-- we don't like cilantro; please don't make me get into this again

INSTRUCTIONS

Heat the olive oil in a large skillet for 1 minute over medium-high heat. Add the onions and garlic and cook until softened, about 2 minutes, stirring occasionally.

Scrape the onion mixture into a blender or food processor along with the drained beans, the cumin, red pepper flakes and salt, scraping down the sides of the blender jar or food processor as necessary. (If the puree is very thick. add 1 to 2 tablespoons of water or chicken broth to help the belnding process and make the puree smoother).

Transfer the puree to a bowl and fold in the yogurt and diced tomatoes. Serve immediately or cover with plastic wrap and refrigerate for up to 3 days before serving (let the dip return to room temperature before serving). Sprinkle with the chopped cilantro just before serving.

Note: this is the ugliest dip you will ever make, but it tastes great and makes a satisfying snack. But seriously, don't look at it. Bun's wet food looks marginally better than this dip.

And now, here's a little video of a typical Bun vs. Quixote cat fight. This will not make you howl with joy like the "no no no no" cat, but the payoff at the end is worth the suspense. Yes, that masculine snicker at the very end is me.

 

Lest you think we live in a construction zone, those are my painting boards stacked against the bookshelf.

And finally, this is Jeff's list of things to do.

I added the hand. (Some of the rocks under our ivy need to be moved. It's a whole home-improvement thing we're doing.)

My Sister's New York City Moment

Look at that little dynamo up there. Smart, beautiful, hilarious, humble, and sweet...my sister Emily. As some of you may know, her nickname for me is Pup, and my nickname for her is Poof. So I'll be referring to her as Poof, Em, and Emily in this blog if that's all right. Earlier this week we were in New York City for 20 hours, all expenses paid by....someone who wanted us to be there (I don't want to ruin the surprise).

I was thrilled to be Em's traveling companion. On Sunday night, I took a long train ride to her home in southern Illinois. It had been three years since Jeff and I were separated for more than a day, and I wished he could have come along. But he stayed home and took care of the cats--thank you, Jeff! We kept in touch via phone, email, and what seemed like a half-dozen social networks, but we missed each other a great deal. When I came home, I was touched to see the Kelly-shaped pillow-and-comforter configuration he had built on my side of the bed.

I arrived at around 10:00 p.m., but I was up again at 2:30 a.m. to go to work with Em. She's an anchorperson for WSIL-TV's morning news, and I had never seen the studio or watched the show from the wings before. A couple of hours of prep work goes into each broadcast. Here's Poof and her co-anchor Kevin working hard at 3:00 in the morning. The little sign taped to their desks says "Anchor Island."

News 3 This Morning runs from 5:30 to 7:00 each weekday, and while there's no way on earth I'd be able to read the news to its rather huge, predawn audience, Em and Kevin (along with weatherman Clint) manage to do a great job, day in and day out. Their small, close-knit crew is professional but laid-back and jokey. Everyone gets along, and Poof feels very much at home there.

After the show, Poof had a few hours of work to get through before we could leave. Again, this is the kind of job I would find difficult: calling complete strangers, setting up meeting times for future interviews, etc. But she took it all in stride while entertaining me and vibrating with excitement for our New York getaway.

We stopped by her house to say goodbye to Tyler, her husband of five years, and Cupcake, her kitty of one year. Cupcake looks a whole lot like Bun, but Bun doesn't have Cupcake's fluffy white patch. Poof improvised a song about the fluffy white patch, a little disco ditty called "Fluffy White Patch."

And then we were off to New York by way of the St. Louis airport, which was some two and a half hours away. Poof drove while I navigated with my phone's map program. We hit a bit of a snag around this bowl-of-spaghetti-looking tangle of interstates near the Mississippi River.

Luckily the phone figured out an alternate route in a hurry. Otherwise we had an absolute blast cracking each other up and enjoying extended conversations about Mad Men, snacks, Jesse Pinkman, top 40 songs, the fabulousness of going to New York on a Monday, and on and on.

Em had only been on an airplane a couple of times in her life and was nervous. Plus it was September 12, and we had each spent the day before watching 9/11 programming. But I helped her make her way through security and to the gate where our small plane was ready to go. We came up with a new tradition: during take-off, it's my job to distract Poof with the most random conversation topics I can think of, such as owls and hot fudge. I kept her laughing and gave her a hand to squeeze, and we arrived at Laguardia at around sunset easily and safely.

Our driver met us near baggage claim holding a sign with her name on it, and he led us to a sleek black town car. He reminded us of our brother and we enjoyed the ride tremendously.

We paused at a toll plaza, and I saw lots of police officers and other security types keeping an eye on things. They seemed beautiful and brave; their mere presence made us feel safe. New York sometimes seems like such an abstraction when you live in the Midwest, but when I spotted a billboard advertising the new 9/11 memorial I realized, Wow, we're really here.

Our hotel (the Sheraton Hotel and Towers) was near Times Square. The snazzy lobby made Poof make a face I've loved since she was little: her excuse me but this is pretty awesome expression.

We snagged a lovely room on the 47th floor, near the top. This was our view.

Exhausted but experiencing our fifth or sixth wind of the day, we decided to go to the pizzeria Jeff basically insisted we visit, John's, just off Times Square [Possibly the only decent pizza near Times Square, plus it's in a renovated church! --Jeff]. I had been there with Jeff a couple of years ago, and this was a great idea because look:

So good! We obliterated this pizza and talked and talked. I almost lost my voice on this trip!

Poof's big event was at 9:00 the next morning, so we got some sleep and woke up bright and early. We caught a cab to the Time Warner building by Columbus Circle. Here's a view from inside the building.

A high-end mall (and Adam and Eve sculptures by contemporary artist Fernando Botero) occupied the bottom floors.

We window shopped for a while and made sure the camera was ready to go.

Soon it was time for the event! Here's a teaser video Poof put together of the story thus far.

 

And here's why we were in NYC: to meet Mally Roncal, makeup artist to the stars. Such as Beyonce. Such as Jennifer Lopez. Mally, a celebrity in her own right in the world of beauty, has her own line of truly innovative cosmetics, and Poof has been a fan for a long time and knows Mally's products and story inside and out. Mally and her crew had put together a blogger's breakfast and invited beauty writers from Yahoo, MSN, and other big media outlets...and my sister. Em was the only YouTube personality there. Mally--who is beautiful, charismatic, funny, and truly kind--discussed her favorite products and introduced a couple of new ones as some 30 beauty bloggers, Poof, and I ate breakfast and listened from tables in a special events room of the Landmarc restaurant. At one point during her presentation, Mally paused, looked right at Emily, got excited, and exclaimed, "Oh my god you are so BEAUTIFUL!" Poof was in heaven.

About ten minutes into the presentation, Em was taken aside by one of Mally's crew; Mally wanted to demonstrate a "smoky eye" on her for the bloggers! Mally's right hand man Albee Franson removed Poof's painstakingly applied makeup and redid it, leaving the eyes for Mally to finish. (This marks the point in the video above where Poof mouths, "WOW.")

After a few minutes, Mally called Em up to her makeup chair. Adorably starstruck, she told Mally that this was the first time anyone had applied makeup on her, and Mally was like, No way! Pretty amazing that the first people to touch my sister's face with makeup also work on superstars. Excuse the poor photography below; I was videotaping all of this with my right hand while trying to take still photos with my left hand.

Mally demonstrated her products and techniques on three other women in the audience. Her talk went on for about an hour, and then she answered some questions and held an informal meet-and-greet. Mally's team had told Em in advance that she wanted to make a video with her after the event, so Poof hung back at the end of the photo-op line. And I will let this video speak for itself...here is the big meeting of the minds.

 

Seriously, how cute is that?

It was so wonderful to be able to witness this, one of the best days of my sister's life. I wrote to Albee the next day on Facebook:

Em and I are back home and still can't quite believe what just happened! You, Mally, and the whole team made her feel like a princess. That "little girl" means the world to me, and I am so thankful when people she admires treat her with love and respect and bring her joy. That's what you all did! Mally is such a heroine to Em. The mutual admiration the two have for each other was truly beautiful to witness, and I'm so glad I was there! You all gave her such profound validation for all of the hard work she's done over the past four years. She is inspired--refueled! And my goodness, the makeup you gave us was overwhelmingly generous. I am having a blast playing with it. It's honestly better than anything I have ever used, and so innovative. Congratulations to you, Albee, for being part of a very special organization!

After Em's one-on-one with Mally, which was filmed by Mally's people for we-don't-know-what-kind-of-future-use, the two put together a quick, impromptu video for Beauty Broadcast, and that will be posted early next week. Even though it was fashion week in New York and Mally had a QVC session later on, she seemed to have all the time in the world to talk with Em, as did her staff. The entire event was about two and a half hours long, from start to finish.

I was unprepared for how kind everyone was to us at this event. Fully expecting to deal with a bunch of jaded, so-over-it hipsters, I was delighted by how sweet and down to earth Mally and her team were. The compliments flowed like wine from them, including fun comments like, "Emily, we are obsessed with your ponytail." They didn't have to be so nice to the two of us, but they were. Expectations: exceeded and exploded.

After we said goodbye, Poof and I decompressed in Central Park with freaking exquisite macarons from Thomas Keller's Bouchon Bakery. Jeff messaged me before we left the event and basically said, Yeah, you need to go there. We people-watched and made gleeful phone calls to Mom and Jeff. Poof periodically stared into space, grinning and slowly shaking her head. The next couple of hours and the rest of the trip home were essentially the first section of this blog in reverse. Lots of laughs, lots of OMG THAT HAPPENED. Poof was giddy and so was I.

And finally, I'd like to wrap up this rather long blog with a few words about what it was like to walk around NYC with Em. She's got this undeniable star power that makes people want to look at her, and there's something sweetly childish about her face, especially when she pulls her hair back and especially when she's happy, that makes people want to be nice to her. Any number of people asked us if we were sisters because we share the same smile, and one sweet older gentleman at the airport told us, "No matter what happens to you in your life, ladies, never lose your smiles." Midwesterners are supposedly a lot friendlier than New Yorkers, but I truly can't remember the last time a complete stranger said something like that to me in Illinois.

I've been to New York City a few times, but the people there seemed different on the day after the 10th anniversary of 9/11. More eye contact. Friendlier. Clearly in love with their city. It was as if everyone had spent all day Sunday crying and wanted to make a fresh start on Monday and Tuesday. Any apprehension Em and I may have felt about traveling to New York around the anniversary was replaced with gratefulness and admiration.

Thank you Mally, and thank you New York!

Art Show at Culver-Stockton College

"I'm not sure why, but I just don't want to blog about my show." -- me, every day since August 23.

Over the past couple of weeks I've been feeling uncharacteristically vulnerable and borderline paranoid, and last night I finally figured out why: my paintings are on display and people are looking at them. 

Normally my paintings are safely tucked away in their owners' homes or occupying the nonjudgmental walls of our house. Until I recently framed them, eighteen of my watercolors were stored in a portfolio in my little studio, looked at by no one but me maybe once a month (to make sure they were okay).

But it's strange to know that 225 miles away, in the art gallery of a small liberal arts college, three dozen of my paintings are being seen by the eyes of strangers. Those people are reading my stories about the paintings on the title cards next to them. Most dauntingly, those people are talking about the paintings and judging them. That's just what people do. And it's going on now, and I don't get to listen to a word of it, which is undoubtedly for the best. Admittedly, I put my images up on the internet all the time and it's no big deal to me, but somehow this is different.

I don't have children, but I bet I'm going through the same emotions that parents must feel when they send their kids off to school for the first time.

Sprinkled on top of this: the nagging idea that I don't even deserve to have a show like this in the first place. Because who am I? I'm just some woman who quit her job so she could paint! Someone (I can't remember who! who was it??) recently said that having a one-person show was the art equivalent of having a book published. It's like people are reading the book that I've just started to write!

Hence the eerie silence on this blog over the past couple of weeks. Sorry about that. But now that I've been able to identify the simple problem--strangers are looking at my paintings and it's freaky--I think I can write again.

And did you see the photo up there? They put my name on the window with letter stickers and how cool is that?

Three weeks ago, Jeff and I packed 24 paintings into the trunk and back seat of the car (Jeff's 2004 Mazda 6) and took off for my parents' house, en route to Canton, Missouri. Each framed, plexiglassed watercolor was separated from its neighbors by cardboard and towels/blankets. We decided to take I-74--see the purple line on the map--instead of a more direct route to western Illinois because it was the smoothest road. I cringed whenever we hit an unavoidable bump. Would the paintings shift and scratch each other during this 300 mile odyssey?

Early in our trip west we passed this guy. I decided that his superhero name would be The Yellow Jacket.

One of my favorite landmarks on this most boring of drives is a giant DeKalb operation near Farmer CIty, which is the name of an actual town in Illinois.

That photo does not do it justice, but please know that this place is enormous. In my book, anyplace that is intimidatingly big and makes me wonder what goes on inside earns the distinction of CONCERN, as in, "We just passed the DeKalb concern." I actually look forward to seeing the DeKalb concern, and this should give you some idea of how uninteresting I-74 is.

We hit a nasty thunderstorm west of Peoria that forced us to pull over for a few minutes. Normally I love a good storm, but watercolors plus more water is a scary combination, and I imagined one of the frequent cloud-to-ground lightning strikes hitting our car, splitting the roof open, and rain pouring in and destroying my pictures. Also, we'd be electrocuted. I'm not buying the idea that cars are safe places to be in electrical storms.

After a side trip to Macomb to pick up the Mabel painting, which was being housed by her grandparents, we arrived at Mom and Dad's house at around noon. They were going to help us take some extra paintings down to Canton in their car. The weather was sunny and pleasant, and the drive was uneventful save for one hilarious carnival food idea Jeff and I had. It's too dirty to write about.

Once we found the art gallery on Culver-Stockton's very small campus, the Great Unloading began.  Gallery director Debbie Myers, a small crew of students, my pal and C-SC associate professor Terry Sherer, Jeff, my folks, and I made short work of getting the paintings into the gallery. The number of pictures emerging in a steady stream from our two-car caravan brought thoughts of clown cars to mind. Then we went right to work placing the paintings throughout the gallery, setting them on the floor. I had been given a floor plan of the space months in advance, so I was able to plan my show. I wanted to put my portraits downstairs and the florals, still lifes, and Burano pictures upstairs. Do I need to say that Jeff was amazing when it came to helping me make instant, Sophie's-level Choices when it came to my art? Because he was amazing.

Debbie and Co. then had 48 hours to hang the paintings. I didn't have to lift a finger, but I did give them a whole lot of cookies. Jeff and I were given a complimentary guest room on the building's second floor, a cute little place featuring the following print:

After looking at it for a while I Facebooked:

"We're in Culver-Stockton's complimentary guest room. The art on the wall totally says 'sex.'"

Jeff commented:

"However, the two twin beds provide a compelling counter-argument."

With two days to blow in a small town (pop. 2000) in the middle of nowhere, Jeff and I had to work to keep ourselves busy. Terry, whom you may remember from such paintings as...

...kept us amused. We love spending time with him.

Activities included:

• a side trip to Iowa City with Terry for sushi and a lecture about Haiti
• a side trip to Quincy with Terry for German food and a look at the city's beautiful homes, and
• a side trip to Nauvoo, Illinois, i.e. Mormon Jerusalem, sans Terry, who was teaching. Some photos!

Jeff looking iconic by the banks of the Mississippi River.

The rather beautiful Nauvoo temple.

Butterfly stalking.

But really, there was not much for us to do during the day, and I found it increasingly difficult to concentrate on my recreational reading because of the dreaded gallery talk I'd have to give on Thursday night. To make things easier, I had put together a PowerPoint presentation on my work and I had planned to give the talk in a nearby classroom. I spent all day Thursday memorizing what I was going to say to...the five people who would show up? None of my friends who might have wanted to see the show lived in the area, and anyway it was a school night, so I had no idea how that was going to go, either. A few hours before the show's opening, Jeff and I (mostly Jeff) hooked up my laptop to the existing system and dealt with the classroom's faulty projector.

Wondering how tired I must have looked, and instinctively knowing that no one would take photos of me during the show that I could later use to illustrate this blog, I snapped a quick self portrait in the semi-darkness.

Here's a better picture of me (taken by me in our house last month) with my apple blossoms. Hopefully I looked more like this on the night of my show.

The opening itself was wonderful, and I even managed to sell some work! Culver's president, its visual arts chairperson, and fine arts dean attended and had kind, generous things to say about my paintings. Art students and a smattering of local people were also there, along with a surprise appearance by my Uncle Ted and Aunt Terri.

I'm in no position to say whether I did a good job with my speech, but Terry told me, "You wowed them." He reported that one of the cute artsy girls said, "I want to be just like her." My parents, who had never seen me teach, were able to watch me talk about art and engage with young people for the first time, and they haven't stopped talking about it. The whole night whipped by in a lovely flash, and then it was over, and then I had to leave my paintings for a month. And then the aforementioned ennui set in.

Sidebar: I got the word "ennui" in a state Spelling Bee in 8th grade, and I spelled the heck out of it.

So here I am back at home. Bun continues to thrive--thanks everyone for asking about her. Saturday she wedged herself into a very small basket. Pardon my thumb; she wasn't in there for long.

After spending his birthday helping me schlep art all over the tri-state area, as opposed to having fun in Spain, my husband is happy to be home, too. Thank you very much for all you do for me, Jeff!

If you're in the Canton, MO, area for some reason, my show will be up until September 23. The gallery is open M-F, 9-5.