Impulse Buy

I probably wouldn’t have bought this bracelet normally but it had the added attraction of being a participatory creation. It’s from the TeNo Store on Spring St. in SoHo and you can certainly buy anything they have, as is, from the display cases. But I was drawn to the do-it-yourself bench with the containers filled with what seemed like infinite possibilities for combinations using ceramic beads, some with black steel elements, and fine black braided leather to string them on, not to mention a really cool and innovative stainless steel clasp. I’m a sucker for this kind of thing since I always like to get my own hands dirty at everything and this was no different. As the price of my accrued elements built up I became aware of my limitations. Not cheap, this here TeNo stuff, and I modified my design a bit just to prove I’m not totally financially nutso. But I saved maybe $50 by doing it myself and walked out of the store with it dangling from my left wrist, hence no delivery charge. I’m wearing it as we speak and I’m so subtly aware of it I keep glancing down to see what time it is. Oops, oh yeah, not a watch.

The best cookie in the world

The best cookie in the world, renowned pastry chefs be damned, is the chocolate chip cookie made from the recipe right off the Nestlé’s semi-sweet chocolate chip bag. The only variance might be how fine you chop the nuts or whether or not you use more chips than called for.

The best commercially made cookie is without doubt the unchallenged Oreo. The Oreo, made by the National Biscuit Company (Nabisco) in the same size, shape and recipe as it is today, came on the American market in 1912. I have been eating them since 1936, give or take a few years (and not knowing it was always a best seller—except in my house), so I have a lot of experience with the taste, and the fun and games you can play with the Oreo. Attempts to “improve” on the original have been tried with varying degrees of success but none; I say none, of them even come close. The Double Stuf is too much of a good thing and the chocolate filling substitute approaches this side of blah. The use of the chocolate “sandwich” sides of the cookie in recipes for ice cream and cakes and various toppings are just so much scattershot, and failed improvisations.

One very real annoyance is when the cookie shelves at the market have every variable but not the original. What’s up with that? Anyway, all hail the lowly and lovely Oreo on its 100th anniversary!

[On a personal note; I really don’t know how crossword puzzle constructors could even survive without the word “Oreo” in their repertoire.]

Two new products that piss me off

One: Part of the sales pitch for this newly distilled bourbon is that it is from the “oldest distillery in New York City.” What that actually means is that Kings County Distillery opened its doors in June of 2010 (in North Williamsburg, Brooklyn) but, the sneaks; it’s the only distillery in New York City. Already put off by this chicanery and, thus, predisposed to hate it, I tried a splash on the rocks but found it too oak-ish and raw and, honestly, not very good. So I tried it in a manhattan and it sucked as a base-liquor for this venerated and venerable drink.

Two: A woman named Michelle Higgins, in an article in the travel section of The New York Times, recommends the use of “Knee Defenders.” This product attaches to the tray table on an airplane and prevents the person in front of you from reclining his, or her, seat. Evidently it’s legal but, if you detect this blockage, you can request the attendant have it removed. Alternatively, you could just go berserk and stuff it up Ms. Higgins’ nose.

Note to bartenders everywhere

The classic recipe for the classic Manhattan:

Ingredients:

• 2 oz rye whiskey
• 1/2 oz sweet vermouth
• 2-3 dashes Angostura bitters
• One maraschino cherry


Preparation:

1. Pour the ingredients into a cocktail shaker with ice cubes.
2. Stir well (don't shake).
3. Strain into a chilled cocktail glass.
4. Garnish with the cherry.

So there; is that so hard?

Oil and some vinegar

Born, but not bred, in a small town in central California I have vivid memories of the landscape between my little town and the communities (equally small, more-or-less) 50 or 60 miles due south along Highway 99. As a high school basketball player I traveled with my team to towns like Taft and Arvin and Bakersfield and, as our old bus chugged along we passed mile after mile of sere wasteland, brown and dusty with nothing to relieve the flatness but the oddly birdlike shapes of huge oil pumps relentlessly rising and dipping as they sucked out the black stuff that fuels our nation then and now. I remember it being a very depressing sight and without a lick of green to relieve the monotony.

As of March 5, two replicas of these monstrosities were installed in an empty lot on the corner of Eighth Ave. and West 46th St. in Manhattan. In this context (in my opinion) they become artsy fartsy with a press release as follows (possibly quoting the artist, Josephine Meckseper; you never know for sure in public-relations-speak): “I hope to draw parallels between the American industrial system, transitioning from a past of heavy industry, factories, and teamsters and the disembodied present of electronic mass-media, surface advertising, and consumerism—so clearly embodied in Times Square. The critical placement of the pumps is a conceptual gesture that raises questions about business and capital; land use and resources; wealth and decay; decadence and dependence.”

Frankly, they creep me out, possibly because of my past and the dead end they could have represented in my life. There is even a hidden sound system that replicates the creak of the original moving structures way down south on those outskirts of Bakersfield.

The only redeeming quality of this installation, called the Manhattan Oil Project, is the nice happenstance of there being a huge advertisement on an adjoining building for the Broadway revival of Jesus Christ Superstar. There you go with the decadent and the dependent.

One WTC: A worms eye view

This Monday I had occasion to be in the Wall Street area of downtown Manhattan. After my appointment I strolled over to the construction site of One World Trade Center just to take a personal look at progress. The building has now reached the 93rd floor with 11 more to go before being topped out. Soon after it reaches this height, the construction of the 408 foot “transmittal” tower will begin which will take the overall building to its planned height of 1776 feet.

The view of the building from the street is overwhelming, it being about ten floors of an intimidating fortress-like façade with little decorative embellishment to catch the eye. The rest is a tower of glass rising beyond one’s ability to stretch one’s neck bones enough to take it all in . Just to put it in some sort of proportion you need to be at least five blocks away (I recommend the corner of Fulton St. at, maybe, William St. to get the full impact.

I have only one word to describe it right now: huge. Maybe next year other adjectives can be added. I’m hoping, at best, for “soaring.”