City Summer Charcuterie
In this month's charcuterie of written words, I go rogue and use tiny little fishies as bullet points.
Good morning, dear reader! When I started compiling this charcuterie for you, I didnāt intend to lean quite so NYC specific. But what can I do? Iāve been here all month. The summer makes it impossible to ignore the fact that I am hereāvery much in the city, experiencing all the city things on volume 10000.
I think that summer is like that anywhere. The extreme heat has the interesting effect of heightening and dulling simultaneously. Everything is in your face, but itās so hot, all you can do is just sit there and take it. Youāre not here for my incoherent rambling on what heat feels like, though. Youāre here for the chartut! So, without further ado, here are the things I read, saw, thought, etc. in July that felt worth sharing.
Reads:
š š š A list of short reads from
, which I woefully discovered AFTER my month of ~100 page booksāthough some on this list would have exceeded my self-imposed page limit for that project anyway. They have all been added to my now-shockingly-long list of short books! Austin posts a round up of ā10 things worth sharingā each week (on Friday). Not dissimilar to a charcuterie Ć la moi, but less all over the place.š š š Another book list that my mom sent me, this one all about funny books! Books that will make you laugh out loud! Or so they claim. The only one Iāve read is Erasure by Percival Everett, and I donāt remember laughing out loud. But that was back in college, and maybe I wasnāt paying enough attention. My favorite funny writer is David Sedaris.
š š š This LitHub piece on the death of pets. I meanā¦need I really say more? Read for warm fuzzy feelings and maybe a couple little tears if youāre anything like me. Like that one Farmerās Dog Super Bowl commercial, which I just watched when I looked it up to add the link, and now Iām crying. Anyone who has had a petāyes, any pet, as long as you loved that petācan understand. Thatās what makes these kinds of articles and commercials so irresistible. The love of a pet is one thing that I can point to in myself and point to in some other person and say, āah yes, we are the same.ā
š š š I looooved this article from Care of Chan on the undisputed king of the hors dāoeuvre. If youāre trying to guess which delightful little bite weāre discussing here, youāre either sick in the head or you just donāt know what an hors dāoeuvre is. Pigs in a blanket are the pinnacle. It was a fun little romp to read about their history.
š š š I canāt recall where I stumbled upon this headline from the LA Review of Books, but I was immediately intrigued. āThereās No Such Thing as a Guilty Pleasureā?!?! Someone else has already started writing my manifesto?! Unfortunately, while Katherine Coldiron (our author) has the right idea, she still missed the mark for me. She claims to feel no guilt for loving gothic suspense novels. She says that sheāll talk about them to anyone because she has no shame. Sadly, the language she then uses to talk about them to us is super demeaning and dismissive. Like, āIām not afraid to say I like these books, but I also need to make sure you know that I know that theyāre dumb.ā Bummer.
Maybe the reason it strikes a negative chord with me is because I often struggle with how to talk about the genre fiction that I read and loveāacknowledging that it is different from the literary fiction I also read and love, without knocking it down a few rungs on the ladder of worthiness. Itās hard to do! I donāt think Coldiron managed it in this article, but she definitely got me thinking about my own perceptions of literary hierarchies.
š š š Theyāre talking about guilty pleasures over at Byline as well. It goes without saying that I wish we could come up with a different term, but I felt like this āconversationā handled the subject with a little more nuance. The guilty pleasure in this case is the ācozy mysteryā genre. It reminded me of my childhood love for āMurder She Wrote,ā and it made me want to read more Agatha Christie.
Sights:
š š š The morning glories near my apartment are finally blooming! One morning last year, my lover and I walked on this corner, and I was stopped in my tracks by the shocking purpleāso bright it was electric. I passed by the same corner almost every day and had never seen any flowers thereāthe climbing vines were always just green. Well, you may have already guessed, these flowers only open in the morning, folding themselves back into their little green robes by the afternoon.
Aside from being beautiful and fun because theyāre on their own little schedule, the morning glories remind me of the early days of my relationship. When the plant withered and died in the winter, I was concerned. Were morning glories perennials? Then spring came, and the owners of the picturesque townhouse in question pulled down the dead vines, and the planter sat empty. I was even more concerned. Had they decided not to have morning glories this year?
I neednāt have worried. Eventually, little shoots of green appeared and started climbing up the wall, and now the flowers are back. There are a million little pearls of wisdom I could extract from this taleālife, and death, and the cyclical nature of nature. Really though, I love the morning glories because theyāre a part of my mental collection of things all over the city that remind me of the people I love.
š š š There was a lady bug in my box of arugula the other day. My immediate reaction was alarm, but lady bugs are good luck! On top of that, I happily ate my arugula knowing it was fresh and pesticide-free enough for a lady bug to enjoy. Two good things. Ohāand I discovered her in the box instead of in my mouth after I had taken a big bite. Three good things!
š š š I saw a woman on the swings in Tompkins Square Park circa 9:00pm on a Tuesday. She was swinging so high and so fast, it made me jealous. I canāt remember the last time I flew like that. Under no circumstances, would I have disturbed this particular womanās joyful solitude, but I will be swinging soon somewhere. Iāll let you know how it feels.
Smells:
š š š Trash. How could I not include it? Itās summer in the city, baby!
š š š On the other side of the spectrum: puppy breath. My nephew continues to be Godās gift to mankind.
Sounds:
š š š This is no longer hot off the presses, but obviously: Speak Now Taylorās Version. I unapologetically love her, and this album slaps. Itās funny how country she sounds even though all of the songs were rerecorded at least somewhat recently.
š š š Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds. I subscribe to Nick Caveās newsletter, The Red Hand Files, because it was recommended to me a while back, somewhere I can no longer remember. I was curious. Then I found that I really enjoyed reading Caveās responses to fan questions. I knew he was a musician because he talks about it, but I honestly didnāt give much thought to the actual music until very recently. When I did, I discovered that I know a couple songs, most notably āInto My Arms,ā which features in my second favorite movie ever, About Time. If you havenāt seen it, YOU MUST. āInto My Armsā is off of the album The Boatmanās Call which came out the year I was born. Iāve been enjoying it while I work, but I think it will also be good in the bath once itās cold again.
Tastes:
š š š Iāve been loving chard this summer. Itās so pretty! And so delicious! I simply stack mine up and cut it into 1(ish) inch strips, then throw it in a pan with LOTS of sautĆ©ed garlic. Cook for about 3-5 minutes with lid off, then cover and cook for another 3-5 minutes. ViolĆ !
š š š May I also humbly recommend eating sausage on top of your salad? People put chicken, salmon, steak, shrimp, eggs, etc. on top of salad. Why do people never put sausage on top of salad? Because theyāre conformists. Sausage is so good. One of lifeās greatest joys, really. I personally like to use the fully cooked chicken sausage from Trader Joeās, but the sky is the limit. There are no rules here.
š š š Kathryn came over for dinner a few weeks ago, and she was in charge of dessert. This is what she brought. No notes.
Wonderings:
š š š Whereās the best place to buy fresh clams in Manhattan?
š š š Why are we all pretending that the NYC street cleaning vehicles do ANYTHING other than kick up the dirt gathered at the curb? I run for cover any time I see one of these coming down the street towards me. We need a better system. Maybe something low enough to the ground that it can go under the cars and do away with alternate side parking entirely! Like a roomba.
Suggestions:
š š š Not unrelated to my wondering above, we should all be calling 311 more often. I have not yet inquired about the street sweepers, but I have called to report trash, potholes, homeless encampments and other objectionable city sites. Itās really quite easy, and you usually donāt even have to wait on hold at all because no one calls. Who knows what actually happens once the 311 operator files their little report, but I prefer to be optimistic and believe that it gets to the right person. At the very least it helps me to feel like Iām moving things in the right direction instead of just complaining about how bad the trash smells.
š š š Look up when youāre walking. Sounds obvious, but Iāve been feeling particuarly addicted to my phone recently, which has been quite unpleasant. Thereās no reason for me to even have it in my hand when Iām walking. Take it one step further than not looking at your phoneālook actually up, up. Reject the cityās tunneling effect. You might notice that itās a half moon, or get to see the evening light on the side of the buildings (the best). You may notice that someone has a yellow striped umbrella on thier roof or a garden on their fire escape. Clouds and water towers!
Thatās all for now. See you next week (month) for last monthās (this monthās) reads. <3
Eatlay has great
Clams
I, too, appreciate Austin Kleon, Speak Now, and swisschard sauteed in garlic. Not necessarily in that order. I'd have to think about the order. :)