Written on June 16, 2011

Soundtrack: Cocteau Twins, Oomingmak

I have been a self professed lazy beach bum this past summer. Spending my days crisping at the beach, learning how to drive, obtaining my license, and still baking, always baking. I haven’t felt the desire to share my creations or experiences with the public. I’ve been dormant for months but now Fall is here, my tan has faded and my priorities have been set straight. This blog entry was written in June, shortly after my trip to Alaska.

Alaska was never on my list of places to see. My upbringing was set in a grey New York, devoid of greenery, nature and wildlife. My version of the great outdoors was visiting extended family on Long Island, which we referred to as “the country.”

I’ve been a city dweller my entire life but for the past several years, I’ve gingerly accepted the lip gloss free, sporty hiker in me. When the opportunity arose to venture into the vast land of Alaska (our 49th state), well…I humbly accepted.

With a North Face puffy jacket, a pair of hiking boots, one pair of jeans and a few shirts, I was OFF!

A large portion of my stay in early June was in Kotzebue, situated 33 miles north of the Arctic Circle. According to a native woman I met, Kotzebue’s population is 80% native (meaning Eskimo, a term used commonly by the natives).  I had no prior experience of life in a predominantly Native American community.

Kotzebue at first glance is dilapidated and secluded, yet serene and dare I say…spiritually fulfilling. The village was brimming with tin roof shacks and many, many dogs.

HOUSES FOR SLED DOGS

A HOUSE IN KOTZEBUE

The locals were friendly. Little “half breed” rag-a-muffin children played unsupervised on the dirt roads for hours. Life appeared to be simple. Coming from a city of materialism, convenience and distractions I embraced this slower pace, finding contentment in strolling around, interacting with welcoming strangers and observing Iñupiaq customs. This time of year, in this region, 24 hours of sunlight bathes the sky (I last experienced this in St. Petersburg, Russia 12 years ago).

I enjoyed the experience of riding on the back of a four wheeler at midnight through the tundra while the sun was out. Bizarre, but it gave me a false sense of time and an unexpected burst of energy.  “Breakup” was also occurring. Due to the elevated temperatures and 24 hour sunlight, the ice was melting and gigantic slabs of ice drifted by.

AS THE WEATHER WARMS UP, BREAKUP OCCURS

TRADITIONAL ESKIMO PARKA

While in Kotzebue, I was fortunate enough to teach three lovely women, Susan, Jane and Kristen how to make croissants.  They were avid bakers on their own and exuded an authentic eagerness to learn.  My brief stint at teaching was undeniably fulfilling. I, for the first time was given the opportunity to spread the knowledge I have, share my skill set and at the same time, was so challenged by doing so. When faced with inquisitive students who are equipped with an arsenal of questions, I was prompted to test myself, I searched my brain for informative and correct answers. Being a newbie myself, I learned quite a bit by teaching others. I may have indirectly stumbled upon a new profession while in Kotzebue, I had a purpose there and envisioned myself teaching others on a professional level…even internationally.

A grateful thank you from my students took form in a day of Tundra Tea picking and a homemade Iñupiaq inspired apron, hand sewn by Susan’s Eskimo mother.  I was elated, proud and satisfied.

ALL FOOD IS OUTRAGEOUSLY EXPENSIVE IN KOTZEBUE

TUNDRA TEA PICKING

TUNDRA TEA

SUSAN, WHO IS A FORMER REINDEER HERDER AND CURRENT DAY DOG MUSHER, IS ALSO WELL VERSED IN NATURE AND WILDLIFE. HERE SHE EXPLAINS WHAT TYPE OF MUSHROOMS GROW ON THE TUNDRA. 

MY BAG OF TUNDRA TEA!

HOMEMADE ESKIMO APRON. A GIFT GIVEN TO ME BY MY STUDENTS.

Kotzebue, is perhaps my new home away from home. The allure of a new place is intoxicating but I’ve found myself asking lately…“can I leave New York permanently?”

What is it that keeps me here in NY? Familiarity, hidden opportunities, the yummy Vietnamese food? Or do I suffer from (as Siouxsie and The Banshees put so eloquently) “Fear of the unknown?”

*I would like to clarify my use of certain terms in this blog post.

During my stay in Alaska, the Natives often referred to themselves as Eskimos, it is not considered to be slanderous in any way. The term “half breed” was used by most Natives I met of mixed race and even used when I was addressed by the natives, as I am of mixed race. These terms were not considered politically incorrect in my daily interactions with the Native people. Thank you.

Soundtrack: Vanity 6, Nasty Girl

Not too long ago I was called upon to curate the music for a fashion based event and the lovely people at LOEFFLER RANDALL asked me to create custom pastries as well.

“My goodness” I thought, “what an amazing opportunity and combo of talents to showcase.” Then it struck me, kind of like an anvil landing on the head of Elmer Fudd in a Bugs Bunny cartoon, “I can offer this service to other people!” It’s creatively fulfilling for me to bake and customize the music for a party or event. And this is the beauty of New York or any metropolitan city, my fine friends! Where else can you exhibit two talents at once? I suspect if I lived in Idaho I would only be able to feature one of my skills, while the other eventually diminished into career oblivion. Well, not in NY, city of opportunity and a place for all types of motivated people.

Only here can you be a carpenter/Techno music producer, aspiring T.V. show host/journalist or a DJ/pastry chef. New York applauds versatility and personalities with multiple skill sets.

This particular event was the LOEFFLER RANDALL press day, showcasing their 2011 Fall/Winter collection.  Essentially, it’s a gathering for fashion editors to view the new pieces and write about the collection. Being a huge fan of LR’s work, I was honored to partake in the festivities. I was also prompted to brand myself and I chose the title of KITCHEN PARTY as the name clearly meshes my two loves, MUSIC & PASTRY.

FASHION EDITORS VIEWING THE NEW COLLECTION

I was given complete creative control over the music and menu. Here’s what was offered in the gift boxes and over the speakers:

A SELECTION OF PETIT FOURS

-EARLY GREY CREAM PUFF

-BITTERSWEET CHOCOLATE PRALINE TART

-LEMON MARSHMALLOW

KITCHEN PARTY GIFT BOXES

FROM LEFT TO RIGHT: EARL GREY CREAM PUFF, CHOCOLATE PRALINE TART, LEMON MARSHMALLOW

WEARING THE PAIGE ZEBRA STILETTO

REVIEWING LINESHEETS FOR SHOES TO BUY!

LOEFFLER RANDALL PLAYLIST

GOLDFRAPP- CLOWNS

BAT FOR LASHES- DANIEL

KATE BUSH- RUNNING UP THAT HILL (A DEAL WITH GOD)

ARIEL PINK’S HAUNTED GRAFFITI- ROUND AND ROUND

FEIST- ONE EVENING

DESTROYER- KAPUTT

THE PAINS OF BEING PURE AT HEART- A TEENAGER IN LOVE

THE STROKES- UNDER COVER OF DARKNESS

BELLE AND SEBASTIAN- THE BOY WITH THE ARAB STRAP

FRANCOISE HARDY- OH OH CHERI

THE BEATLES- GOOD DAY SUNSHINE

THE ROLLING STONES- SHE’S A RAINBOW

SERGE GAINSBOURG- JE T’AIME…MOI NON PLUS

MORRISSEY- MY LOVE LIFE

SCHOOL OF SEVEN BELLS- HALF ASLEEP

MY BLOODY VALENTINE- SOON

TEARS FOR FEARS- HEAD OVER HEELS

THIEVES LIKE US- NEVER KNOWN LOVE

ROYSKOPP- KEYBOARD MILK

LCD SOUNDSYSTEM- I CAN CHANGE

CAROL DOUGLAS- DOCTOR’S ORDERS

THE CLASH- MAGNIFICENT SEVEN

HOLY GHOST!- WAIT AND SEE

MIDNIGHT MAGIC- DROP ME A LINE

SHIT ROBOT- TAKE EM’ UP

To read a Q & A with me for the LOEFFLER RANDALL blog, please click here.

To listen to the playlist, please click here.

Thanks to Rachel Wolff and Stephanie Draves.

Soundtrack: TV On The Radio, YOU

I met Gerard on the second day of school in the Fall of 1994 at a diner on the corner of 27^th street and 8^th avenue, across the street from FIT where I was a Fine Arts major. I was seventeen years old. Sitting alone, aloof and picking at my grilled cheese with bacon and french fries, I pondered why I hadn’t made any friends in class as of yet…then two guys plopped down at my booth, uninvited mind you and the grabbing of my fries ensued. They were chatty, jovial and seemed to be innocently flirting. Gerard introduced himself. This was our official introduction but I had noticed Gerard the previous day in Don Perlis’ life drawing class. I had never drawn from a live nude model and was mortified yet excited at the concept of doing so. I walked in unprepared with no newsprint, just a few pieces of black charcoal. Upon entering, I noticed a fellow with dreads sitting on the floor, rather dapperly dressed in a blazer and button down shirt. I honestly thought he looked like Basquiat, casually put together but dressy enough for some sort of formal occasion. He was feverishly sketching before class started and I thought perhaps he was a showoff? He had a prominent confidence and a focused intensity that alarmed a few of us in class. Upon further observation, I could tell it wasn’t contrived but that this kid had years of experience on everyone in class. I was slightly intrigued and a bit mesmerized at the thought of becoming acquaintances.

Our camaraderie rapidly flourished into a loyal friendship. We took trips to SUNY Purchase in his car and both longed to attend as the Fine Arts facilities were far superior to what FIT offered. Mixtapes were exchanged. It was a constant back and forth of introducing one another to bands we were infatuated with while bonding over our affection of 4AD bands. I was even fortunate enough to sample his mom’s home cooked spicy shrimp & rice dish on Long Island, where he grew up.  Gerard vastly exceeded the title of “peer.” He was a mentor and was placed on the same pedestal as my professors as I learned much more from his dedicated and convincing artistic vision.

He was endowed with the psyche of a disciplined artist. He awoke, reached for any piece of paper and ink, drew, smoked a cigarette, drew, drank black coffee…ate crumb cake, drew. Gerard had embodied the bohemian life, which is something all young artists seek out. I thought him to be a modern day Rainer Werner Fassbinder, a young prodigy who produced compelling art quicker than any other I had known.

During our second year, we were separated into different classes but chose painting as our concentration and did a series of portraits of one another. I remember posing for him in the corner of the painting studio underneath a loud metal fan for hours and hours, only to have him destroy the painting over and over again with an incomprehensible conviction. In the first incarnation of the portrait he gave me blue eyes and I…was in awe.

JOINT PORTRAIT (JUSTINE DRAWN BY GERARD) 1995

ON THE OTHER SIDE (GERARD DRAWN BY JUSTINE) 1995

After college, Gerard was the only friend I consistently kept in touch with. Letters from San Franciso when he lived there for a bit, a run in on Bedford Avenue would lead to a burger dinner at Diner or a cup of coffee at Verb cafe. We’d check in via text a few times a year, an invite to a BBQ he threw and I even found him busking at my train station several years ago. He played for the love of playing to any crowd. One question I repeatedly asked him over the years was “you still drawing man?”

His reply was always “yes.”

I remember how he kept his fingernails long for strumming on acoustic guitar, his ravenous appetite for a large black coffee and crumb cake every morning before class and a friendship which molded me into the artist I still strive to be.

Every April 20th, I’ll start my day with a large black coffee and a piece of crumb cake in your honor Gerard.

GERARD 1996

Soundtrack: OMD, So In Love 

This post has more musical references than usual, so no need to be confused, just whip out a pen and take notes.

OMD is playing New York in March and since I own none of their MP3’s, only every album on vinyl, I just purchased the Best Of digital album on Amazon. It’s been like the closing prom scene in “Pretty In Pink” at my apartment the past week. 

AN 80’s BONANZA!!!

My father purchased the “Pretty In Pink” soundtrack for me on vinyl through Columbia House in 85’. I was only 9 years old, rarely listened to the album but picked it up again at the age of 15. “If You Leave” was my song with a Sophomore year boyfriend named Philippe. Philippe, WHERE ARE YOU NOW??? 

OMD’s “So In Love” is a relatively cheery track sonically, not as morose as say something off The Cure’s “Disintegration” so, I thought it would be a positive song to post on a bitter-sweet day. The lyrics are a tad glum though. Hey, you’re lucky I didn’t post “Answering Machine” by The Replacements. Let’s read some highlighted lyrics from that song, shall we?

Try to breathe some life into a letter
Losing hope, never gonna be together
My courage is at it’s peak
You know what I mean
How do say you’re O.K. to
An answering machine?
How do you say good night to
An answering machine?

On the Hallmark holiday of Valentine’s Day I decided to give in, let love wash over me and bake something fairly romantic in it’s honor. Yes, everyone loves chocolate-so why not bake gooey brownie’s and jazz them up with a lovable heart shape?

No one ever denies a brownie, but people will refuse a brownie with a nut in it. Why is this? I grew up baking Duncan Hines brownies from a box, which are still delicious and my Dad always welcomed the incorporation of walnuts. It adds another layer to moist brownies, promotes a toasty nut crunch and boosts the overall flavor.

My baking motto: PUT A NUT IN IT!

COMBINE DRY INGREDIENTS IN ONE BOWL (a.p. flour, sea salt & cocoa powder)

MELT SEMI OR BITTERSWEET CHOCOLATE & UNSALTED BUTTER IN A DOUBLE BOILER (make your own double boiler, don’t buy one from Williams-Sonoma. Tools needed: A pot, water and a bowl. SIMPLE)

COMBINE DARK BROWN SUGAR & WHITE GRANULATED SUGAR IN A NEW BOWL

OVER THE HEAT, ADD BOTH SUGARS TO YOUR MELTED CHOCOLATE/BUTTER MIXTURE

TAKE OFF THE HEAT, LET COOL FOR A 5-10 MINUTES AND WISK IN YOUR EGGS

SIFT DRY INGREDIENTS AND GENTLY FOLD INTO YOUR LIQUID MIXTURE IN 3 BATCHES, DO NOT OVERMIX. DOING SO WOULD RENDER A TOUGH BROWNIE

DURING THE LAST BATCH OF FLOUR, FOLD IN THE WALNUTS

BAKE AT 350 DEGREES FOR 30 MINUTES, COOL COMPLETELY AND START CUTTING

Rather than wearing your heart on your sleeve, just leave it on the cooling rack.

HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY!!!

Soundtrack: David Bowie, China Girl

The relevance of David Bowie’s “China Girl” in my repertoire as a DJ is rather significant as I frequently ended my sets with this song at the beginning of my career . The loyalty to “China Girl” though is really held by the seven year old version of myself. In the eyes of a half Chinese child I found the video to be slightly uncomfortable in that jumbo romance novel kind of way and exotic, often believing it was the tale of how my parents met. But my mother did not have long dragon lady nails like the actress in the video, nor did my parents meet in China and I cannot recall my father throwing bowls of rice in the air while proclaiming his love for mom. Nevertheless, this was one of my favorite videos and songs in 1983. 

The morning masses in New York crave a steaming cup of coffee accompanied by a butter laden croissant, a crumbly berry scone or a gooey cinnamon raisin danish drizzled with icing. While I love the aforementioned breakfast goodies, my grumbling stomach often yearns for a strong black breakfast tea with lots of lemon and the often overlooked Chinese baked good. While Chinese pasties are never dismissed by Asians, they are a mystery to most of my non Asian friends. They usually smirk at the thought of diving into a fresh Chinese sweet bun and often reject it’s humble simplicity.

As a street kid in Chinatown I would save my loose change for two things after school, video games at Chinatown Fair and the bun of my choice at the local “mom and pop” Chinese bakery. 

My mother, grandmother and great grandmother stuffed us Delaney kids with these rustic delicacies everyday, I still have the elastic banded kid sized pants to prove it. In the morning I would start off with a Pineapple Bun, after school a Cha Siu Bau and before dinner I would sneak in a Dan Tat. While in my 20’s, I renounced my Chinese side, citing Chinese cuisine as unhealthy and boring. “Tsk tsk” I would say, “I don’t eat these things anymore, too fattening.”
For the past several years however, I’ve embraced my Chinese roots and if you look hard enough, one can catch me roaming the streets of Chinatown gorging on street food, huddled in the corner of a bakery inhaling several Chinese pastries and slurping down duck noodle soup at NY Noodletown, a place I’ve been going to for over 30 years. It’s a no frills experience when hanging out at a Chinese bakery. Nothing is over $1 and the affordability attracts a motley yet colorful crew of elders you sit with at communal style tables. They either ignore you, glance over to see which goodie you’ve chosen or if you’re worthy enough, send a shy smile your way. In this speedy, tireless section of NY, you can surprisingly find solitude sitting amongst the pandemonium, reveling in the comfort of your savory pork bun. 

So, “baby, just you shut your mouth” and EAT!

SOME OF MY FAVORITE CHINESE SWEETS AND SAVORIES:
CHA SIU BAU (aka BBQ pork bun)

CHA SIU BAO (interior)

COCONUT & PEANUT CONFECTION (the exterior is made of rice flour and has a similar texture to MOCHI)

INTERIOR (filled with chopped peanuts, sugar and coconut)

PINEAPPLE BUN (no pineapple involved. A cookie like texture on top and filled with custard, red bean or nothing, it’s your choice)

DAN TAT (egg custard filled tart. I have a feeling lard is used for the crust)

DEEP FRIED SESAME BALL (my all time favorite as a kid)

FILLED WITH SWEET BLACK BEAN PASTE

A NEW FOUND LOVE: DRIED PORK BUN (with a thin layer of mayo underneath the pork)

Us Chinese have been celebrating our new year this week and to my people, I say… 

GONG HAY FAT CHOY!

ON THE STREETS OF CHINATOWN DURING THE NEW YEAR CELEBRATION 2010

Soundtrack: Tinariwen, Assouf

The desert sands of the Sahara have crucified my camera, and I refuse to take photos with my lacklustre Blackberry. So rather than submitting inferior images to my blog, I’ve decided to share some of the finer moments from Morocco, sans vomiting in the desert due to food poisoning. No one wants to see that.

Morocco is a curious place. While I was only in Marrakech, the Atlas mountains and Erg Chigaga for 9 days, I grasped a sense of the culture, customs and even the humor of Moroccan men. Unfortunately I did not meet many women but the few I did come across were quiet, peaceful and gracious.
The men are aggressively friendly, the cuisine perfectly developed and the overall ambiance is indisputably mystical.

My days were passed by strolling through the souq, sampling sweets, sniffing spices, and sipping the classic mint tea with locals, while getting terribly lost. Every single day, all day. I felt like an eight year old in Chinatown venturing out for the first time.
There was always a friend to make or someone willing to chat with you about their life experiences while inquisitively asking of yours over a tagine baked meal of chicken and fresh vegetables.

TEA WITH NEW FRIENDS

INSIDE THE SOUQ

SWEETS (rich with honey, nuts and dates)

CHICKEN TAGINE (w/olives, potato, carrots, prunes, onions & string beans)

While the loud city life of Marrakech was charming, I ventured into the somber Atlas mountains with my guide Hassan and then to the Sahara desert for camel trekking.
All was quiet, nothing to distract me. Only my thoughts and at times, Hassan’s questionable selection of music.

ATLAS MOUNTAINS

DRESSED IN NATIVE GARMENTS (note: Converse sneakers are not traditional Moroccan garb)

PETTING MY CAMEL BEFORE THE TREK

ERG CHIGAGA

On my last night in Morocco I was fortunate enough to have an epiphany. With a little guidance from a passage in Bob Dylan’s CHRONICLES and spending the previous 2 months alone, I realized what the next steps of my life will be. Sometimes the only way to reach that point, is to leave familiarity and comfort behind.

Inshallah.

12/29/10

Soundtrack: Olivia Newton John, Magic

To learn a bit more about my infatuation with Olivia Newton John, read an old article from The Village Voice, here.

From a suitcase to an oven…the theme of the past two weeks of my life. Re familiarizing myself with America, New York and living not out of a suitcase, but living out of and with a home oven.

I now understand the allure of being on the road and agree with my endless list of DJ/musician friends who have been addicted to life on-the-run for many years. It’s a sense of escapism. Hey, anyone want to fund my baking/traveling/DJ adventures?

I had been back in New York for 9 days before taking off to visit my family for the holidays and I would say that I dread returning to my cozy, kitschy, chock full of personality Brooklyn apartment.

While I am here in Florida where my family resides, I have made the best of it with pastry. Eclairs, a Buche de Noel, gougéres, assorted quickbreads, a failed attempt at croissants, cherry marzipan dumplings and a lemon tart. But, the most stimulating recipe to master is not French, it’s Italian. The cherished RAINBOW COOKIE!

Rainbow cookies are not only a family favorite, but I sincerely associate this cookie with my father and being a proud native New Yorker. A sense of hysteria laced with elation radiates from the Delaney household whenever a box of Veniero’s Rainbow cookies makes it’s way onto our coffee table. They are not only a holiday treat, but something my parents bought on a monthly basis while living in New York. At times, they opted for the traditional Italian cookie platter, which was an assortment of buttery, pignoli and candied cherry adorned tid bits. Make no mistake, I annihilated those confections but it was always the beloved Rainbow cookie that disappeared from the platter first. I figured, wouldn’t it be amazing to make these cookies from scratch and attempt to duplicate the happiness my family exudes upon eating these baked delights?!?

Some highlights of the process:

3 TRAYS OF ALMOND PASTE RICH BATTER (only use food coloring for 2 of the trays).

IN BETWEEN YOUR LAYERS SPREAD RASPBERRY OR ORANGE PRESERVES.

TRIM YOUR EDGES (do it after you spread the chocolate on top and the underside). I neglected to do this.

SPREAD YOUR CHOCOLATE

FINISHED PRODUCT

I am completely motivated to find a baking job in New York. I have already interviewed at two places in my first week back, but the allure of living out of a medium sized suitcase is very attractive.

How can one bake while on the road? A RV across The States while baking cookies and selling it from my motor home? Classes abroad? Exploring other culinary capitals of the world and writing about it? Exciting options!

I just know one of the only things keeping me in New York is the possibility of opening up a bakery of my own…that and my lovely record collection.

The beauty of leaving NY and reassimilating is the challenge of finding a hidden treasure, perhaps in the form of a person, restaurant or bakery I’ve passed thousands of times but have never experienced. Everything can be reintroduced to me. Rehashed and familiar, but with my current perspective, somehow…new?