The General Situation

Oh, Dear

Sorry!

This morning, my cell phone rang; I didn't recognize the number, so I ignored it. (I probably would have ignored it anyway.) The phone rang again—the same number was calling, so I Googled it. By the time I figured out that the number was for the Mt. Sinai Medical Center, the ringing had stopped, and the caller didn't leave a message. I emailed Adam to make sure he was OK, and then I sat back and wondered which of my friends I had just left alone in the emergency room.

Toasted Farro with Kale, Currants, and Pine Nuts

When I asked when kale had become such a thing, I had no idea what was brewing: After making the last recipe I posted, we ordered a side of cavolo nero (a.k.a. Tuscan kale) at I Sodi, and then last night we made this recipe. It's another one from Suzanne Goin's series of four in the Wall Street Journal. Adam tends/likes to undercook grains, so I thought the farro was a bit chewy—a feeling that was ratified when he checked the farro package. While Goin says to boil the farro for 12 minutes and then brown it for five minutes, the farro package said to cook it for 50 minutes. Anyway, the flavors were delicious, and it's vegan, to boot.

Squash with Mushroom-Kale Ragout

I think I enjoyed this more than Adam, even though I could take or leave kabocha (or butternut) squash—and perhaps because I like sage than he does. If we were to make it again, I'd suggest reducing the squash and upping the kale and mushrooms (the leftovers of which were delicious mixed into scrambled eggs). Or maybe we'd make a pasta with the ingredients, adding a bit of maple syrup to bind it. Either way, perhaps we'd add a bit of chile de árbol, per Suzanne Goin. Anyway, it's by Anita Lo (of New York's Annisa), and it's from the Wall Street Journal.

Also in Aspen...

Adam: Someday I'm going to buy a pair of cowboy boots.

Me: Really?

Adam: Really. I've always wanted cowboy boots.

Me: Oh. With a big heel?

Adam: With a small heel. They'd be very simple, just brown leather, with stitching on the calf, and maybe a bit of turquoise at the top, where no one could see it.

Me: It's wonderful to discover new things about you even after all these years.

On Aspen

While making this list of moments from our trip to Aspen, I realized that it seems a bit negative. Whatever. Even when crappy things happen, I don't always mind—they're just part of the rollercoaster of travel (and one more thing to talk about). We had a blast and came away relaxed: Who's up for skiing next year?

10. I was prepared for a lot of attitude in Aspen, but we found it even before we had left the Newark airport. At the Qdoba fast-food restaurant, the man next to us was on his phone, and I was already fascinated by his Truman Capote voice when he hissed, "I'm going to have that little bitch's job!" Needless to say, I repeated the line many times over the next few days.

9. In Aspen, there wasn't much drama, which was a bit disappointing. I almost went to the Dennis Basso boutique to try a fur on, just to see if I could have a Pretty Woman moment. The only Aspen-y behavior we saw involved a Frenchwoman and her teenage son who were sitting behind us on our flights to Denver. When the flight attendant told the woman to put down her headrest (we used miles to fly business class), the woman said dismissivley, "We will do it afterward." The flight attendant, having already moved a row or two down, stopped cold; the headrest went down. Then, in the Denver airport, we watched with amusement as the Frenchwoman approached the gate with two boarding passes in her hand. When the agent asked who the other one was for, she waved toward her son, who was maybe 25 feet away, getting his bags together. She indicated with much hauteur that she did not understand the problem. Unfortunately, we never saw them again.

8. This isn't a good moment, but it'll certainly be a strong memory for a long time to come. On the Newark-Denver flight, United's business class was awful. I could forgive the plane's lavatory taps not working (the pilot said we could leave as is or wait three hours to get them fixed), but you know those moist [sorry, Laurie!] damp washcloths they give you? I don't like them anywhere—such as Japanese restaurants—and now I'll have no qualms never touching one again. The ones they handed us smelled foul, like a really old, dirty dish sponge. I can still smell it.

7. We stayed at the Little Nell, where the service was outstanding, the ideal mix of attentive but not formal. Seriously, I can usually find something wrong, and everything about the service was perfect. The exception was at breakfast, where one server asked Adam if he wanted potatoes or a tomato to go with his omelet, and Adam said sure, a tomato would be nice. He expected a roasted tomato, but he got slices of a raw, unripe tomato—and it was $5. Another day, we opted for the breakfast buffet, and we were quite surprised to find out—when the bill came—that the two carafes of juice right next to the buffet weren't included in the buffet. What's with the nickel-and-diming, Little Nell?

6. The hotel was decorated in a style I think of as Dallas Modern—to make men comfortable, I suppose. It was neither here nor there, except it had the ugliest draperies I have ever seen in a fancy hotel. They looked like taco meat arranged into a rococo pattern.

5. Our first day, we went cross-country skiing, something I remembered fondly doing years decades ago. Adam didn't like it as much as I did, but we both enjoyed simply being outdoors in a beautiful place on a beautiful day. (The weather was sublime.) It was a good thing we passed very few people, because the Neutrogena sunblock I had bought there didn't agree with us—it went on white, like kabuki makeup, and then it grew whiter with sweat, finally running down our faces in streaks. (I think Adam had just fallen when I took this photo.)

4. Our snowshoe tour up by the ghost town of Ashcroft, run by the Aspen Center for Environmental Studies, was genuinely interesting—and I normally abhor a tour. We were incredibly fortunate that no one else was on the tour, so we didn't have to (a) deal with other people, or (b) listen to as much of a canned spiel. The guide, Sarah, answered our questions and much more, teaching us a lot about the trees, the animals, and the land. P.S. Aspen trees sacrifice their own branches for the greater good of the tree—and when branches dies and fall off, they leave marks that look like eyes (see to the photo at top).

3. The food was consistently lame. We had a good dish here and there, but I think what I'll remember most is how much kale I ate. When did that kale become a thing? If we go back next year, we'll be having more pizza and less fancy food.

2. At the Denver airport, we were a bit bleary from the flight (and the gin and the wine), so we had a hard time locating the departure board, let alone deciphering it. FInally I found our flight and announced the gate. "It's not there!" said Adam. I pointed to our flight, but of course the board kept switching to the other flight number, because the flight was a codeshare. "It's not a five! It's an eight!" said Adam. I wasn't that bleary, so I said no, dear, it's a five. That's when Adam said, "What's the matter with you?" (Think about being asked that question for a second.) I believe I may have a raised an eyebrow or two in response. Once I persuaded him that he was wrong, "What's the matter with you?" became a running joke, although Adam has had a hard time remembering the exact phrase, throwing me for a loop when he says "What's your problem?" or writes "What's wrong with you?" in an email.

1. I had been dreading going downill skiing because I had done it just once in 20 years (and that was 10 years ago). Before that I had skied a fair amount, and I wasn't worried that I wouldn't remember how to do it—I was worried that my muscles would refuse to do what they were supposed to do. Moreover, Ajax mountain (the main mountain at Aspen) is famously difficult. Would I end up on a black-diamond run by accident? Would I have to walk down the slope or take the gondola back? Would I cry? After two runs, I felt OK, and after five runs I felt great. Plus, the views were astounding. I can't remember if all ski areas are like that.... Of course, for the full experience you need to hear the skier on the right speaking Italian into his phone.

A Cowboy Junkies Sampler

We saw Cowboy Junkies the other night at City Winery. I love Cowboy Junkies, and I don't understand why everyone doesn't. Some of their recent records have been a tad sludgy, I suppose, but I prefer to focus on the songs that are beautiful—the ones where Margot Timmins's voice doesn't have to strain to be heard. As a public service, here are 10 11 songs that you probably won't know and you'll probably like.

1. Sun Comes Up, It's Tuesday Morning
2. Black Eyed Man
3. Small Swift Birds
4. Take Me
5. Dreaming My Dreams With You
6. A Horse in the Country
7. Good Friday
8. Bea's Song (River Song Trilogy: Part II)
9. 'Cause Cheap Is How I Feel
10. 200 More Miles
11. Ring on the Sill

Dear Adam

I bought you a cookie today. I chose it over "XOXO" or "Luv Ya" because I saw how I could adapt it. But I pressed too hard on the icing, and I ruined it.

And then I remembered how we had agreed not to buy each other gifts or cards—anything—for Valentine's Day. So I ate it.

One Soul-Sucking Hallway

What, Me Worry?

I just remembered how, two days ago, I was around the corner from my apartment when an older man using a walker stopped me. I don't know what I was thinking about, but I must have been smiling, for he waved a hand at me and said, "Hey! Hey! How do I get as relaxed as you are? Look at you! How do I get so stress-free?" My impulse was to keep moving, because I had no idea how to respond (and because I thought he might next ask for money). I only bring it up for those people who think I storm around the city scowling.