Category Archives: This never would have happened in Finance

Disasters in the press

Check it out – I got a little mention in Serious Eats! Thanks again, Tam!

And just a reminder that if you’re free this Saturday, please come check out the Hay Qua mini-fest! Don’t worry, besides me, there will be actually talented and entertaining speakers! Plus, there’ll be a banh mi lunch! What’s better than that? In fact, depending on how many banh mi they let me have, you may never hear me speak at all – I’ll just hang back and stuff my face until the whole thing is over.

You know what’s funny? I grew up eating banh mi while other kids were eating turkey sandwiches. I always felt bad that my sandwich smelled “so bad” in comparison. I mean, it never smelled bad to me, but the kids around me didn’t seem to share the same appreciation for fish sauce that I had. It’s kind of vindicating to know that people from all different backgrounds and ethnicities love banh mi now. Who knows, maybe those same kids that used to make fun of me grew up to love banh mi! Or maybe they just grew up into even bigger jerks… I’d put my money on the latter scenario… if I had any.

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Whoa – I think a little of this LA luck is rubbing off on me

Just when everything around me seemed to be swirling and conspiring to make me hole-up somewhere and take up agoraphobia as a hobby, I received a divine message not to take the leap back under my covers…  from Facebook.  I’ve been asked, and have accepted to be, a speaker for a Vietnamese conference called Hay Quá (roughly translated into “pretty neat.”  It’s purpose is to bring together “the most creative vietnamese americans in new york.”  Stop laughing.  No, really, stop laughing.  It turns out that a real blogger, Tam Ngo of Serious Eats, reads my blog, actually likes it, and suggested that I be invited to be part of a food panel (no doubt to fill a last minute cancellation, but beggar bloggers can’t be choosers).  Rock on, Tam, and thanks for being my fourth reader right after mom, husband, and Chef Hayley’s mom!

Unfortunately, I got so excited about being asked, that I went immediately to the blog and started reading about the other speakers.  Oh fudge.  Double fudge.  The other speakers are actually super creative.  They’re not just sitting here typing about all their crazy misfortunes, they’re actually out there doing things like, oh you know, running restaurants, making documentaries about changing the world, singing while playing an instrument (so impressive and so different than karaoke), etc.  And me?  Hi… uh, my name is Mindy Lvoff… I know my last name’s not Vietnamese, but I changed my name from Nguyen because I got married and… well you probably don’t care about that… I write a blog about food… well, it’s not really all about food, but… um… it’s really more about what a train wreck I can be… which only Hayley’s mom and my mom seem to find amusing… and… uh…  oh and Tam seems to like it for some reason – thanks, Tam, bet you’re regretting the decision to invite me right now… and… hehe… uh… hi?

Oh yeah, that’s going to be a grrreat discussion.  Maybe I’ll provide comic relief by tripping and falling while trying to take my seat or something.  I really shouldn’t joke about that kind of thing, huh?  If you’re interested, Vietnamese or not, please come and meet some actually talented Vietnamese-Americans that I’ll be sitting next to!  I heard they’ll be banh mi there…

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Brooklyn Beer Experiment findings: people love beer more than orphans

First, remember how my phone would crap out every Sunday and only let me type “hlhlhlhlhl?”. Well yesterday, my first Sunday off work in 2 months, it was absolutely fine. Curiouser and curiouser…

That's right, they had beer mug-shaped balloons.  Awesome.

That's right, they had beer mug-shaped balloons. Awesome.

Maybe my phone was just too happy to get ornery on me. Why? How could you NOT be happy eating beer-inspired savory and sweet dishes, then washing them down with home-brewed craft beers? I kept up my tradition of working for free by rolling plastic flatware in paper napkins at the door, and have the blister to prove it. It’s harder than you think, ok??? We weren’t the only ones there to help our friend Nick (thank God) – he actually had a small army of friends and family making sure everything ran smoothly. It’s really a testament to him. For comparison, I wanted to sell holiday cards last year made by orphans in Vietnam to help keep their center running, and couldn’t get any of my friends onboard. Nick can rally an army for beer, I hear crickets when it comes to buying a $5 pack of holiday cards… FOR ORPHANS!

Nick Suarez: the Big Cheese himself

Nick Suarez: the Big Cheese himself

Anyhoo, I didn’t get to try all of the food, but there were a few that I tried and enjoyed immensely. The “Half Pints” were two lovely ladies from the pastry kitchen at Jean Georges WHO WERE ROBBED. They should have won something, if not everything, for their delicious pretzel-scone sausage mini-slider with a smokey beer gel, carbonated and served out of ISI Whips. I can’t really complain because I didn’t vote (I was volunteering, didn’t feel right about voting), but I’m still shocked that neither the judges nor audience sent the love their way. I’m sure they’ll get over it because they know, deep-down inside, that they’re better than us all and could bake us under the table. That must be a great feeling to know that you’re the best at something… never experienced it myself, but I imagine it’s something like eating cheese for every meal and never gaining weight.

The Pretzel Scone Slider that was robbed.

The Pretzel Scone Slider that was robbed.

Now, this may sound like foul play, but I swear that Nick’s mom, Bonnie Suarez, won 2nd place fair and square for her “You can have your brew and eat it, too!” Not only that, but I have the inside scoop that she was 1 vote away from winning 3rd in the audience’s pick category (inside scoop because I counted the votes). Besides having a great name, she had a dual-component dish: the first was a kick-butt (I keep having to go back over my posts and censor out expletives) curry-chicken salad topped with spicy, pickled raisins. The chicken was perfectly tender and the dressing had just the right balance of curry. And those raisins… oh, those raisins… Tomorrow’s post will tell you more about those damn, delicious, raisins. Ok, back to what really put Bonnie over the top – her homemade beer bread. So tender, a little molassessy, with that delicious hoppy-yeast aftertaste; this bread was so delicious that I wanted to take it home and toast it and have it with creme fraiche and cured salmon for breakfast. It was so delectable that I wanted to have it cold and dense, slathered with peanut butter, and topped with honey and sliced bananas for a snack. Now, just thinking about it, I have a craving to cut it up and make buttery, crispy croutons out of it. If she decides to ever sell that bread, I will post about it for a week (I know, I know, this paragraph is basically a week long already).

Bonnie's winning entry - it looks good, it tastes even better.

Bonnie's winning entry - it looks good, it tastes even better.

The desserts were incredible and made me feel silly for never having used beer as a sweet ingredient before. The Black & Tan Bread Pudding by Rachel Crawford was unbelievably good. How good? My husband ate the entire sample that I brought back to the napkin-folding area to share and photograph. Usually my husband’s pretty considerate, but damn, he didn’t even pause to ask me if I wanted some. He just asked me after-the-fact: “oh… did you want any of that bread pudding?” He did run in and get me another sample after I stared at him like I was trying to light his hair on fire with my eyes for several minutes. I wasn’t disappointed – warm, perfectly balanced, not overly sweet, yummy yeastiness, incredibly tender, and topped with fresh whipped cream that was starting to melt down the sides of my delicious bite.

Rachel Crawford's winning Black & Tan Bread Pudding.  Nice touch: she added a recipe card.

Rachel Crawford's winning Black & Tan Bread Pudding. Nice touch: she added a recipe card.

Rebecca Lando’s Beeramisu was also a smash hit.  Not only was it creamy and made with FIVE different beers, but it won Johnny Iuzzini’s (the pastry chef from Jean Georges) pick for best dessert of the day.  Rebecca – you can basically die a happy chef now.

Rebecca Lando's Beeramisu: delicious and impressive - it won Johnny Iuzzini's illustrious pick for dessert of the day

Rebecca Lando's Beeramisu: delicious and impressive - it won Johnny Iuzzini's illustrious pick for dessert of the day

Other notable confections:

Beer Smores (I *believe* it was a beer ganache that made this treat so crazy satisfying) by Mark Sopchak of Brooklyn’s Whimsy & Spice. Basically, he brought all the best parts of the campfire together without the bug bites or my cousin peeing on my tent in the middle of the night.

Beer Smores

Beer Smores

Milk Stout Ice Cream with chocolate-covered pretzels… Stout ice cream actually sounds pretty natural, doesn’t it? But what put it over the top were the crushed up chocolate pretzels inside. I loved the tiny little crunch of biting into cold chocolate and the surprise of salty pretzel. Yummm. Here’s the terrible part – I forgot who made it. I think she told me and then I wrote it down in my blackberry, but now it’s gone. No longer in the blackberry. I think both my blackberry and me were distracted with ice cream (lactardation be damned!) and all pertinent information fell out of our microchips. I also neglected to bring a spoon the first time (yes, I went back twice and still don’t have her information) and tried to squeeze ice cream out of the little plastic cup… which then cracked under the forced and ice cream dripped down my leg. Whatever, that’s why I wore shorts (black ones) and sneakers and at least I got ice cream! 

yummmmmm.

yummmmmm.

Overall, great day, great event. Just makes it harder to leave the weekend behind…

 

Chris Munsey serves up his brew: "Mad Elephant"

Chris Munsey of Murray's Cheese serves up his brew: "Mad Elephant"

 

An ounce of Mad Elephant - no blue face mask needed.

An ounce of Mad Elephant - no blue face mask needed.

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You take the good, you take the bad, you take them both, and there you have…

…if you don’t know how the rest of that song goes, please immediately go online and watch a few episodes of “The Facts of Life.”

Today had all the makings of a typical disaster… and now that I’m writing this post, I’m almost guaranteeing that it will end in disaster as well. After trying to take a cab to work to save time, just to get stuck on the FDR behind an accident, forcing me to get out of the cab on the FDR and walk to the nearest subway stop, I arrived at school wishing the world ill.

In the midst of photographing and taking video of Chef Nils for his upcoming debut on Top Chef Masters, I got a text from my friend who works in high-fashion. It said, “In my office, I just overheard someone saying, ‘that model has fat knees.'” I love receiving random-rumination/just-overheard texts in general, but the content of this one put it over the top. Any model that is working for his label is definitely crème-de-la-crème, so I’m pretty sure that the “fat” on her knee is just her patella, and is therefore physiologically necessary.  How rough is it when someone tells you that you need to drop a few bones cuz you look fat?

So I replied back to that text: “In my office, I’m putting more fat on my knees by eating the steak and vinegar-infused french fries that we just made.”  Which was an awesome text because it was true.  And my office is a cooking school.  Yes, I’m poor as dirt, but somehow that little text managed to put everything in perspective.

 

i also get to work for this guy.

i also get to work for this guy.

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Igor’s Corner on Cooking Issues

And if you haven’t had enough of my abusive of the English language, check out the Igor’s Corner post on Cooking Issues today.  This is hopefully part of a series I’ll be doing for Cooking Issues on the craziness that is working with Dave Arnold.  However, it’s quite possible that they’ll never let me post another Igor’s Corner again and I’ll be relegated back to submissively staring up from the bottom of the totem pole.  What a view…

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2 for 1 Friday!

Here’s just a little quickie that I couldn’t help but share.  Have you seen the Skoal pictures of Teach and his best bud, Alan Richman that I posted on Cooking Issues yesterday?  Well, I had the pleasure of taking Alan Richman’s photo and just feel compelled to describe how it happened.  Yes, the picture is worth a thousand words or maybe just the absence of words.  Nothing compares with what it was like to be there, though.  It’s one of those moments that you wait your entire life for and when it’s over, you instantly miss its fleeting presence in your life.

We shoot the Skoal photos in Dave’s lab, which is quite small.  In order to get the lighting, backdrop, and subject all placed correctly, we need to mount the camera in the doorway of the lab and only the subject can remain inside.  I poured Dean Richmond a shot of Aquavit, then stood in the doorway while he took his mark.  I explained the process: 1) Look into the camera, your fellow Skoaler’s eyes – serious, but not intense – holding your skoal glass directly in line with your 3rd shirt button; 2) Slam back the shot, tilting your head back so that your face is parallel to the ceiling; 3) Return to roughly your first pose position, but this time, almost stare down the camera with intensity.  Alright, Alan was set, and I stared through the viewfinder while several people crowded behind me in the doorway to watch.

First shot, piece of cake.  Alan has basically mastered the art of, “Hello.  Are you ready to drink?  I am.”  Second shot, a little shaky at first, but then he tipped back a bit further and another perfect shot.  At this point, we all leaned forward in anticipation as I coached, “Ok, Alan.  Now you’re going to come down and stare me down.  Give it to me!  I’m a competitor food critic!  Show me what’s up!  Blow me out of the water!”  Well…  he did.  He came down fast, snapping his head down like an axe, and leaning forward slightly to better reach out and kill the camera with the intensity of his glare.  Literally, the power of that 3rd stare was like setting off a hydrogen bomb in that little lab.  I’m lucky I managed to press the button on the camera before everyone standing in that doorway, myself included, literally arched backwards and flew backward out of the room.  “Oh my God!” someone yelled.  People were bent over, gasping for air.  I ran back to the camera, making sure that it hadn’t been my imagination, that I actually got the picture.  And there it was…  Amazing

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Sunday is apparently pick out a shiny new Asian day…

Well, I guess I should be flattered, but I’m just kind of dumbstruck.  Yes yes, go ahead and make jokes about me just being dumb – I’ll wait…  Done?  Good, moving on.  Something very odd happened in the kitchen today…

I got an early birthday gift.  Instead of sweating it out over the omelette station, I was hard at work destroying appetizers for patrons of L’École today.  Whatever makes the mean, mean omelettes go away makes me thrilled.  Added bonus: Teach stopped by with his family and hopefully had a good meal.  Actually, as long as he steered clear of anything with the word “tartare” in it – which I was mangling – I’m sure he did.  It was nice to see happy faces come through the kitchen, even if I could only barely enjoy it because I was too busy thinking of how to ruin something else just by touching it.

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Disaster = eating opportunity = weight disaster = depression = eating opportunity = wordier posts = vicious cycle

I wish I could make this stuff up.  I’m sure you’ve already clued into the fact that I have perpetually bad luck, but just to give you an idea…  When my boss, Dave, and Teach met for the first time, Teach told Dave a little about the premise of my blog.  Dave laughed and began to ask whether I’d written posts about some of his favorite disasters: “Your gastroenteritis?” Um, no, thanks for sharing that with Teach, though.  “Oh, how about your husband buying a boat?”  Yeah, no, not that one either.  Still too painful to be funny.   Basically, I have so much “material” that I could blog for days and weeks in advance and take a little vacation from carpal tunneling… except for the fact that each day that goes by fosters even more disaster kindling.

For instance, yesterday night, I was riding the 6 home and decided to take Teach’s advice and start my post on my blackberry.  There I sat, typing away, thumbs flying over keys… wow, I’m so productive, I thought!  Yeah, that’s until I finally looked up and realized I was 2 stops past where I wanted to get off.  Good thing it was only 10:00 PM at night and I wasn’t exhausted.  Oh, wait…  I contemplated taking a cab, but decided that I was going to look at this seemingly unlucky turn of events as an opportunity to do even more blogging!  (FYI – this is where I should have known I was doomed.  The Pollyanna-esque optimism was a clear sign that bad things were about to happen.) Continue reading

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Throw me the mango, I’ll throw you the whip!

I’m 100% Vietnamese.  Ok, I’m actually 75% Vietnamese and 25% Chinese, but for all intents and purposes, consider me 100% Vietnamese.  This means that I love myself a mango.  For as long as I can remember, my mother would buy a flat of mangoes from Chinatown every weekend while they were in season.  Unripe, green mangoes were marinated in fish sauce for a savory dish, or pickled in rice wine vinegar with a little Thai chili and eaten as a snack or an accompaniment for sweet and savory beef.  Ripe mangoes were diced for dessert and you grabbed the 2nd best utensil in the world after chopsticks from the little plastic toothpick (What? Everyone didn’t have one of those?).  In the morning, mangoes went into the blender for smoothies (maybe that’s where I get it from) and my brother and I rejoiced at not being forced to down another soft-boiled egg.  Sure, soft-boiled eggs sound great now, but when every other 7 year-old gets Cap’n Crunch and you’re sucking down runny eggs, it gets a little annoying.

You get the point, then – my childhood ran on a mango-powered engine.   Continue reading

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1 Part Mindy + 1 Part Blackberry + 4 Parts Liquid = Soggy Disaster

Remember how I said technology hates me?  Well, it may be more like my technological instruments are severely depressed. How else can you explain the numerous times my blackberry has tried to kill itself?  Continue reading

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