the dirty banana

The first full day we were in Jamaica, we asked one of our waitresses ("String Bean" read her name tag) what she recommended for a drink that was strong and wasn't too sweet. She suggested a Dirty Banana (which wasn't on the menu) and we said okay without asking what was in it - and it was perfect, and I drank about a million of them before we left, and I don't even like bananas.

I made sure to spy on how they made it and wrote it down for when I came home - although since they just tended to throw ingredients together without measuring, it's taken me some time to perfect the proportions. Naturally the next step was to share them with you, dear reader.

Dirty Banana 

2 oz gold or dark rum (we've been using Appleton)
2 oz rum cream (the Caribbean version of Bailey's - we brought Sangster's back with us, but as it's not available in the States, you'll have to make do with whatever they have at Total Wine)
1/2 oz creme de cacao
1/2 oz simple syrup
1/2 ripe banana
ice 

Throw all ingredients in a blender. Add ice till the three cup mark; blend until smooth. Makes 2. 

how to fake homemade spaghetti sauce

Forgive the poor photography.

I don't cook much, but there are a few things I can do really well. Breakfast is one of them. Faking homemade spaghetti sauce is another.

You need as many of the following items as you can round up:

• Sweet Italian sausage
• Jarred spaghetti sauce of your choice (I am partial to vodka sauces)
• Red wine (Chianti, Syrah, whatever's around and reasonably full-bodied)
• Veggies: tomatoes, mushrooms, tri-color bell peppers, asparagus, spinach, broccoli (frozen versions work fine if you don't have fresh handy)
• Sugar
• Olive oil
• Oregano, basil, mediterranean spice blends, salt and pepper, ground red pepper
• Minced garlic (I am lazy and use the jarred version)
• Pasta of choice (whole wheat versions are healthier!)
• Romano cheese, for garnish

I tend to buy the sausage and put it in the freezer until I need it. Put the sausage (frozen or fresh) in a large fry pan on medium heat with a quarter cup or so of water, and cover. Turn occasionally to keep from getting too brown. (You can use mild or hot sausage, but I find the flavor isn't as good. You can also start with chicken: use olive oil, salt and pepper, and basil to flavor it before adding the sauce.)

Once you can't see any raw sausage just by looking (20 minutes or so), pour in the jarred sauce. Add a few glugs of the wine (pro-tip: if you've cooked with it, a glass of it automatically goes well with the meal). Pour yourself a glass to have while you cook and feel more Italian already.

Now's a good time to put the water to boil for the pasta.

The worst part of jarred sauce is the acidity. The sugar combats this. Pour some in your hand - a tablespoon or two - and then add it to the sauce. Taste (you're using a wooden spoon just like grandma's, right?). If it's still acidic, add more.

Throw in large amounts of your chosen spices. Rub them together in your hands before you add them to make the flavor stronger. I like to add the pepper (red and black) so it's a bit kicky. I add garlic to taste, too - store sauce is never garlicky enough.

Let it simmer covered for 20-30 minutes. Add more wine or water if it starts getting too thick. Throw in your veggies now or later, depending on how crispy you want them, and put the pasta in the boiling water about ten minutes out from the sauce being done (you can always let the pot boil awhile with nothing but water in it if you didn't get the timing right).

Once the pasta's cooked, check the sausage for doneness. I always serve the pasta and the sauce separately so that people can choose how much sauce they want (put a bit of olive oil on the pasta to keep it from sticking). Garnish with finely grated Romano cheese - it's way more flavorful than that hackneyed Parmesan.

Greens with a few dashes of olive oil and balsamic vinegar go well.

If you've done it right, no one will believe you started with a jar.

things I like this week, vol. 22.2

We appear to have a book theme going, still.

. . .

If Famous Writers Had Written Twilight.

. . .

It's an art installation called The Obliteration Room by Yayoi Kusama. It was originally white; they gave stickers to kids who visited until the whole thing was covered. (This photo is about halfway through the process.)

I'm sure there's some sort of pattern analysis one could make.

. . .

This map won best in show at the annual competition of the Cartography and Geographic Information Society, and it was done by one man. The article includes a lengthy analysis of why his map is so impressive - and you'll understand, after reading it.

Am contemplating buying it for Joley.

. . .

Steve McCurry's blog continues to impress.

. . .

Backstage at the New York City Ballet, from their facebook page.

. . .

I have linked at least three people to this blog post with hot toddy recipes. I made the first one with Jack Daniel's Tennessee Honey (since I just happened to have the ingredients at hand), and it was delicious. I highly recommend them.

. . .

All I have is the image address.

. . .

Fascinating and horrifying pictures of abandoned theatres. I'm always interested in shots like these, but somehow the idea that someone would abandon a theatre never occurred to me (despite having taken J to see the recent Muppets movie). It's as though, in my head, theatres were like that joke the Player makes in Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead:

Player: You know what happens to old actors?
Ros: What?
Player: Nothing. They're still acting.

. . .

I have a strong disdain for Louis Vuitton, but I want this. A lot. Even though it would be really heavy. But then, if one can afford Louis Vuitton, especially vintage, one can afford to hire someone to carry it for you.

. . .

25 Things I Learned From Opening a Bookstore. Number 19 is particularly relatable.

things I like this week, vol. 12

This McQueen dress is infinitely better than that other dress, and something I would much rather wear.

I'm in love with the candle sconce.


In an unrelated coincidence, this is my favorite color. The swatch is Pantone's Twilight Purple; I would love to take down that horrible birdhouse wallpaper and paint the downstairs guest bathroom in it.

. . .

Bad spellers are a breed apart from good ones. A writer with a mind that doesn’t register how words are spelled tends to see through the words he encounters — straight to the things, characters, ideas, images and emotions they conjure. A good speller, by contrast — the kind who never fails to clock the idiosyncratic orthography of “algorithm” or “Albert Pujols” — tends to see language as a system.

. . .

But as a writer, my inner life is my only instrument. I understand the world only by my attempts to shape my experience on the page. Then, and only then, do I know what I think, feel, believe. Without these attempts (the word essay derives from “attempt”) I am lost.

(Fair warning: as both a mother and a writer, this article had me tearing up by the end. Not so much with sadness, but with how much it resonated.)

. . .

A powerful post on loss, trees, and finding peace.

. . .

Man on a pole.


Freckles, piercing eyes, wavy hair. Except for its unpredictability, wavy hair is the best of both worlds.


Boozy watermelon rosemary lemonade. If I had the patience for making my own infusions, this would be at the top of my list. (Instead I gave the link to a friend who does take the time for such things.)


The snapped bow-strings make the picture.

A secret bookstore.

culinary adventures

Breakfast is by far my favorite meal to make. I'm slowly expanding my repertoire.


The top knife wasn't sharp enough. Resorted to one of our fancy steak knives, which worked quite well. Loved the light, though.



The beginnings of a vaguely eggs Provençale-type dish.



Finished product: poached eggs, tomatoes, hash browns, thick-cut applewood bacon, bloody mary.



My favorite way to make eggs of late: fried in a piece of toast. Accompanied by oatmeal, vanilla yogurt with mixed berries, an Irish coffee, and a tangerine I didn't end up eating.

To cook the egg this way:
Find good bread. (This is essential.) In the above, I used a multi-grain. Lightly butter--real butter, not margarine!--both sides of the bread. With your fingers, tear a hole in the middle of the bread about two inches across. Throw both pieces in a pan at a little less than medium heat. Put a very small pat of butter in the hole (to keep the egg from sticking). Crack the egg in the hole, and cook until 2/3 of the white is white. Flip. The bread will be evenly toasted at about the time the yolk is still just a little runny.

For some reason, that extra little circle of bread is incredibly tasty--much better than bread toasted and buttered afterward.

steak quesadillas

The problem with steak leftovers is that they never taste as good if you simply reheat them.

The solution is, clearly, steak quesadillas.

Start with cold steak and a sharp, unserrated blade. Trim off any fat (which should be easy to spot, since it'll be white). Figure out which way the grain of the meat is going, and start cutting perpendicular to it in order to make the meat more tender. Slice as thinly as you're able, and cut the slices into 1 inch lengths. Lightly salt.

Use real flour tortillas. If you see a sign advertising handmade tortillas, buy them. Otherwise, resort to buying from the market: look for something locally made with the least number of ingredients. I'm a fan of Alejandro's, which you can purchase at Walmart. Get the large size.

Heat two tortillas in a large, ungreased skillet on a medium-low setting, turning them quickly so they're warm but not starting to crisp. Put the least crispy side face down and place your steak on the bottom tortilla, making sure all slices are flat. Pile on finely shredded cheese (I prefer the whites: mozzerella, jack, Parmesan and Romano), making sure enough fits between the beef to make it stay together (the mortar to your bricks, if you will). Press the second tortilla on top.

Cook until the cheese is at least half-melted and the bottom is just starting to get crispy, and then flip. Before removing from the heat, ensure that all the cheese is completely gooey. Slice with your knife from before, and serve piping hot, accompanied by steak sauce.

The better your original cut of meat, the better the result. Steak quesadillas in restaurants often use inferior, chewy steak, and it makes a huge and delicious difference when you make it at home and pay attention to the details.