Cycles

Besides food, I'm obsessed with fashion. If you know me or read this blog at all, you probably have some idea about this. I think about it quite a bit more than I let on, even though my outfits ("uniform" is more like it) can get fairly monotonous. However, I'm constantly browsing sample sales, vintage stores, and various online boutiques - not necessarily buying stuff, but looking for ideas. And if it weren't for the constantly increasing piles of magazines strewn about my home, I'd seriously consider subscribing the Women's Wear Daily. So as you can imagine, I'm a pack rat, especially when it comes to clothes. I've got pieces from 15 years ago - "it still fits!" - although I haven't worn them for about, well, 15 years. Magazines and closet organizers always advise that one should go through her closet once a year, and get rid of the stuff that hasn't been worn in over a year. Sometimes, they even come up with some obscure color and labeling tag system that would probably appeal to the obsessive compulsive in me, but I just can't bear to throw out so many of my clothes. It's gotten to the point where I have stuff that went out of style some time ago and is now coming back (and going out) again. I take a certain pleasure in digging through my closet, and finding stuff I'd completely forgotten about. Like the Uggs from my teenage surf rat days that now feel so luxurious after a 5:30 a.m. swim practice. (But not tucked into a pair of jeans or with a miniskirt to traipse about town as though it's high fashion. WTF??? "Uggs" is short for ugly, 'kay?) Or the (never worn) Miu Miu camisole I picked up for six bucks at a sample sale four years ago that somehow makes that dusty rose vintagey lace top work with the McQueen jacket that I adore. And were my skirts really that short? Hell, I even still have a decent chunk of my wardrobe from when I worked at the Gap! Yes, I admit it. I worked for the "the company". Okay, maybe I ought to get rid of some of this stuff. But maybe that day will be next year.

Comfort Food

It is my humble opinion that in the dead of winter, there is no better dish than oxtail stew. Shortribs and cassoulet come pretty darned close, but as far as I'm concerned, my mom's oxtails were the best. I've got a batch slowly braising in the oven as I type. I've tweaked my mother's recipe a bit - I omitted the potatoes (I'll be making spaetzle) and added a dash of cognac with a healthy dose of red wine. The real secret however, is quite simple, yet also the hardest part - waiting until the next day to eat it!