That's what I've been saying!

Replace "Buffalo" with Cleveland and it's the same damn article.

Cheap! Diverse! Hipster-friendly post-industrial landscapes!

Truly shared space

Given my attentiveness to the responsibility of sharing space, I love this article found by Bakaitis.com.

I had heard about the Shared Space philosophy on NPR in 2003 or 04 (I recall a long discussion about this concept with someone I really need to track down again) and loved the idea of no rules creating hyper-awareness.

It's sort of like the rules of water.
On the water, the right of way goes to the vessel that cannot change course as quickly.
Speedboats must yield to sailboats.
Jet skis to kayaks.
And EVERYBODY yields to freighters.

For the most part, not knowing what someone else is going to do (or even knowing if they are aware of the rules) makes you a hell of a lot more aware and careful. Add to that a lack of "lanes," since on open water there are infinite navigational options.

I think our reliance on lanes and lights creates a false since of safety... which means less attention is paid.

So yeah, make downtown Cleveland a Shared Space, I'm up for the experiment...

UPDATE: As an aside regarding safety and attentiveness, there was this great New Yorker essay about SUVs from 2004. It talked about the assumed safety that drivers feel due to the womb-like nature of the vehicles. One of the ideas it posed was to not worry about the small, fast two-seaters on the road, since due to their size and lack of height, they must be more attentive drivers than those in high, well-upholstered behemoths (Buick Braggadocio, anyone?). The concept of safe=distracted really resonated with me at the time. Especially since I was making a daily commute on 480... I always felt like a bug between the 18 wheelers and SUVs, on the verge of SQUISH at any moment.

Dinner Party

Last Friday I took a day off to spend at the beach with a friend recently got married.
This is important for two reasons.
Reason 1: she has a completely tricked out kitchen thanks to showers, etc...
Reason 2: they were going to go to French Laundry on their honeymoon in Napa, but since the menu is prix fixe, and you have to get reservations 3 months in advance, and you have no idea what will be on the menu, and each time they saw the menu, half of it was something they couldn't (or didn't want to) eat - they didn't go.

It just so happens that I recently bought the French Laundry cookbook... so between the luxury of the day off and the urge to whip up something wonderful to share, the dinner party was the natural outcome.

Unfortunately, yours truly didn't charge her camera batteries... so no prep pictures exist, however, one of the guests was kind enough to take some presentation pictures and they are posted on his blog. Thank goodness for friendly bloggers.

Ok, so the French Laundry cookbook seemed a bit daunting in reality, so I just did one recipe from it, but throughout the book, he shares the philosophy of trying small bites and multiple courses with good raw materials. So it was more notional than literal. B has quite a wine collection, so each course was paired with a bottle suited to the menu.

The menu.
Appetizer Course
Crudites.
Homemade boursin and fresh bread.
Bacon and Eggs

Soup Course
Spring Green Soup: made with fresh asparagus, cucumbers, spinach, lemon and mint.

Salad Course
"Pigs and Figs" Salad.

Main Course
Charcuterie: Slovenian sausage, Dortmunder weisswurst, Garlic weisswurst & Smoked keilbasa, Wild mushroom and veal terrine.
Cheese Plate: 5-county cheddar, Drunken goat, 4-year cheddar, Camembert, The best blue cheese ever.
Olives
Bread

Dessert Course
Raspberries in Chardonnay Jelly.

This was honestly the best dinner party I've been to in a while. It was fairly laid back and featured dancing to early-90s rap following the dinner.

I mean, what goes better with wine and food and friends than Biz Markie and Positive K?

Plus, it had the added ease of pre-prepped aspects...
D and I made the terrine and dessert on Thursday night so we could enjoy the beach.
After sun and sand, we went to the West Side Market and spent a good 30 minutes with a fellow at The Cheese Shop who graciously had a tasting with us and took time to help us create the cheese plate.

Overall, it was a great start to a packed weekend.

Next time, I'll attempt more recipes from the cookbook...

Weekend Bounty: What I found at Cain Park

After the Market, I met up with a friend to go to the Cain Park Arts Festival.

I haven't been in a couple of years, and I was glad to return.
There were over a 120 artists this year, most with something beautiful I could see finding a home with me.
Because I'm on a budget, I limited myself to the cash on hand for purchases.

Feeling frugal, I stuck to practical art - ceramics especially.

I love a good bowl, even more so, a good kitchen implement.

Three lovely bowls.


I love the purple color, and the green speckling reminds me of Araucana eggs.

These two pieces include a small colander with a handle (perfect for berries... or radishes). And something that I call "isn't-quite-a-creamer."

It's got a pouring spout, and is tall - perfect for whisking scrambled eggs or making salad dressing.
I adore the glaze - lavender pink and tealy-blue.

Weekend Bounty: What I found at the Market

Saturday was busy.
I woke up at 7:30 to get to the North Union Farmer's Market early enough to beat the crowds.
I had one goal: mushrooms.
I found some black chanterelles on a hike last week, and was hoping Killbuck would have some.
Alas, they are just coming on, so I took what he had. I'm making a terrine for a party and wanted to get some fab fungi for the feast.

Clockwise from upper left: Blue Oyster, Lion's Mane, Baby Shitake, Pink Oyster


I thought the eggs looked divine, so I picked up a dozen, along with some garlic scapes, introduced to me last week at a friends.



I also got a pound of bacon - but it's bacon - and it's frozen.

Not so photogenic.

Sailing. Again. Finally.

Tonight I went sailing.
It's been a while.
Five years, to be exact.


* not the boat I went out on today - this pic is circa 2002...

I used to race out of Lorain on a 45' Hunter. It was fun - a bit of a drive on Wed'y evenings, but worth it.
I stopped when my schedule got wonky and unpredictable in 2003, and haven't really gone back.
It's weird to be a sailor who hasn't sailed in 5 years.
Just like its weird to be a singer who hasn't sung in 2 years.
Other things come and go - and it's hard to maintain everything I'm into on a consistent basis , but the things I'm committed to keep rising to the top - which is good.

Anyway, a friend hooked me up with her boss who is big into sailing here, and I caught a ride on 24' Ensign Class out of the Edgewater Yacht Club... quite a bit smaller than the boats I'm used to, but a bit more nimble.

I think I'll learn a great deal more about reading wind and waves - the skipper good and used to newbies and was patient as I remembered what the following things meant: halyard, jib, traveler, tack, puff, clew, kite, leeward, shroud, boom vang... shall I continue?

It was very windy, so windy that we lost our competition to the bar (in sailing a bar means, well, a bar... like with alcohol).
The waves were such that I got soaked through, but I remembered how much I love being on the water and am glad I'm back on a boat.

Of course, the post-sail margaritas and burgers don't hurt much, either...

I love a good storm

Tonight I got to watch an evening storm roll in over Lake Erie - an otherworldly and powerful experience, if you've ever had it.
My parents used to put me in the car and drive to Lakeview Beach to watch storms blow in from the safety of the giant Olds.
We'd make popcorn and drive to the North End of Kelley's Island to watch lightning and waves.
I love the feeling the sound of thunder, the momentary brilliance of lightning and the power of driving rain.

Watching a storm blow in is like watching a artist struck with inspired madness.
You get light blocked and focused, reflected and diffused.

You get THIS


Click to enlarge image.

Ms. Stilgenblogger lives for a day

A day OFF.
A whole day to do whatever I want.
And a weekday to boot.
Not a holiday.
Or a Saturday.
Nary a throng to fight.

I LOVE the decadence of a weekday off.
I used to take them more when I free-lanced, in fact, I almost preferred to work on weekends and play during the week.
Who knew Trader Joe's could exist without lines?
Or that you could park close to Target?

So today I took a day...

I did laundry!
I gardened!
I met a friend and bought 6 months worth of bath supplies from Lush.
I bought perfume!
I tried on Gladiator sandals!
We had mojitos outside and got pleasantly tipsy - at 2pm!
The coupe de grace was the pedicure - 30 minutes of foot-buffing-InStyle-reading heaven...
I went back to the friend's house and learned how work a lace pattern for a cami I'm starting.
Then I met up with some of my Master's degree program friends at Fairmount Wine Bar for Happy Hour, followed swiftly by knitting at the Coventry Phoenix.
We hadn't had dinner, so we made our way to the new pan-asian place Tree... Tree... Tree something.
Very good - affordable, somewhere on the continuum between Pacific East and grocery sushi.

All in all, the kind of day I love - busy, interesting, good food, good company and a general sense of calm and well-being.

Next time... a trip to Huntington beach for swimming and Honey Hut ice cream.

What the cluck!

So this is Carl, Cleveland's blogging opera chicken.

He's got a great back story, and is surprisingly photogenic.

Parade the Circle

Ok, so every year on the weekend that coincides with my birthday, there's this big celebration at University Circle that DRIVES ME CRAZY and I usually avoid like the plague.

So why does this weekend celebration of creativity, love, music and art make me want to rip my hair out?

One word.

Hippies.

Goddamned artist hippies.

If you do anything - anywhere - remotely creative, you'll find them.

I didn't begin to register them as a problem until I spent two years in Phoenix in the late 1990s. Arizona is like the final rest stop on the hippie highway that leads straight to California; quite a few stop to pee and realize they're out of gas and that the yurt would look good there in the shadow of the mighty saguaro and simply never moved on. It's the desert, and there's the draw of Native American spirituality, and drugs are plentiful and cheap.

I worked with hippies, I even lived with one and her daughter. She was an artist, living in the house she grew up in that was given to her when she became a mother.

Her daughter's father was a half Apache/half Navajo guitarist who also happened to be a heroin addict - with an inoperable brain tumor. He was a ward of the state when I met her and lived there, kicked out years ago when she learned he had spent the $10,000 they saved for after the baby in a short time on drugs... and guitars.

I moved in when The Little was almost three - it was fun. We had a pool and made art and generally enjoyed life. Because she had been there all her life, she was an anchor in the artist community - meaning that there were always weird sculptures in the backyard or bands practicing in the garage.

I liked her structure (thanks mostly to the needs of The Little) and we worked together, so we kept a similar schedule and had mutual friends.

But I learned quickly that hippies don't like schedules... or checking accounts... or logic. Which is why they are HIPPIES.

She kept her money in a black cat shaped candle holder called "Cat Head" because years prior she had late fees on a bank account and refused to pay, so she couldn't get another account. Cat Head worked for her because Cat Head never said no - whereas an ATM wouldn't give her $5 if she had $14 in the bank. She often kept her daughter out late so she could hang out with her after a gig - but I don't think 3 am banana cream pie at Stucky's was the best thing for a 4 year old. And I could NEVER get her to understand that it was more wasteful to turn off the AC when it was 110 degrees than to leave it at 80 during the day.

It was a good run, my time in Phoenix, but I had to get out and return the highly-strung puritan work ethic of my people in the Eastern part of the nation.

So what does this have to do with Parade the Circle....?
Hippies.

I am an artist, but was always a highly strung, get-it-done, technique-driven artist. Which served me well when I worked in museum installation or profit-driven scenic studios. It does not, however, serve me well in an environment where we all need to feel the energy, hear the paint, taste the colors and smell the universal human experience.

I tried to do Parade once before with an artist - she would tell me what time to be there - and I would show up. To an empty tent.

After a week of not getting anything done and her telling me to come back at 10 pm because that's when the spirits toast her inner joy sandwich and spreads it with create-o-butter made from the love of art beasts, I decided to JUST GIVE UP.

So ever since I have had this tremendous chip on my shoulder about Parade - except I am prying it off and giving it a whirl with some friends from the UU.

Artists, both of them, but both professional and "into" responsibility.

So I'm trying this again - but I REFUSE to taste the colors.

Prom!

Saturday night I went to Prom.



It was the Beachland Ballroom's third annual prom event: all the kitchy fun without the crippling adolescent self-hatred.



We had a blast - most people showed up in prom attire - I went in tails and my friends all wore formal wear from past weddings, borrowed or thrifted vintage.

D went as far as to buy a corsage - THAT is dedication.



The tunes were mostly 50s and 60s rock - the only thing missing was some 80s tunes between live sets and a blue Olan Mills style background for photos.

Also, they had this guy perform wicked yo-yo tricks, and I'm proud to show off my camera's video capabilities.
Not entirely NSFW - Lots of drunk people saying "Fuck Yeah!" everytime he releases the yo-yo.

Latitude 41 N: Detroit Shoreway

Last night an impromptu trip to Lakewood to visit friends led to dinner at one of the many new places that's popped up in the Detroit Shoreway area recently.

Latitude 41 N is at the North East corner of Detroit and 58th St. - kitty corner from the Happy Dog and across the street from the old Snickers, which was recently Cheddar's but looks to have a new name - Mac and Jac?? (but I digress).

Anyway, it's was the best new restaurant experience I've had in a long time. The menu is great - pizzas, salads, sandwiches - interesting combos - comfort food that comforts, not smothers.

You order at the counter, pay there and take a seat - which was gloriously efficient.

I started with the spinach side salad - which I was expecting to be... just spinach - and maybe some cranberries.
Instead a received a glorious archaeological dig of tasty treats. Candied walnuts... and blue cheese! And... is that BACON?! Fresh sweet onion! And, oh yes, spinach. It's normally served with a fresh mango dressing, but they were out of mangos and seeing as I was overcome with joy for all the unexpected fixin's I could care less. The oil and vinegar was delightful.

In addition to a standard issue dinner menu, they have an all-day breakfast menu as well, so I split the Southwest Breakfast Quesadilla with a friend: again, spectacular - scrambled eggs with black beans, avocado, sausage, salsa and cilantro sandwiched between 2 tortillas and lightly topped with cheese (and more salsa).

Our third had the Shrimp Po' Boy with homemade fries (served with vinegar!) and a napa slaw which was a high-end take on a salad my grandmother brings to every family picnic - cabbage and ramen noodles with a sweet dressing.

I stayed away from the Po' Boy as, alas, my greed for all things seafood turned on me one night last year following a half container of Lobster Bisque and some shrimp cocktail - all those years of raw oysters caught up with me and I can clambake no more. *sniff*

That said - Latitude 41 N - wonderful!
I can't wait to go back for more!

Urban canopy

9th and Prospect

Just enough shade.

Hyeres 2008

The Sartorialist's last few posts have showcased some from the city of Hyeres in the South of France.

Curious as to what brought them to this locale, I went looking and found that there is an international fashion and photography weekend each year. I know its technically fashion week here in Cleveland, but somehow it doesn't speak to me in the same way as a village on the Med...

What can we do to make Cleveland have some of the charm of this village?
We have a number of the elements...
*access to water's edge
*sand beaches (not a word negative - they are beautiful regardless of your preconceived notion of 1970s pollution in an industrial town)
*creativity
*youth
*diversity
*artistic acumen

Why not a Hyeres here?

All together now

Tonight I was at Playhouse Square again, and it was refreshing to see all the activity and energy infusing Downtown Cleveland.

Of course, there was the Tribe game at 3:55, which always seems like such an invasion from the 'burbs. Keeping that theme, Go Diego Go was letting out at the Palace Theater, resolving my curiousity about why a young child was chanting the racial slur "dago! dago! dago!" in the parking garage stairwell.

Later you had The Crucible (with snacks) at the Ohio, La Boheme at the State, and Tri C Jazz Fest at the Allen.

Add to that the fabulously surreal experience of seeing folks coming to the CLAW (Cleveland Leather Awareness Weekend - Link NSFW) at the Wyndham (I saw a LEATHER TUX and it was beautiful. I totally wanted him to come attend the opera in that.)

Even better was the mix throughout all this at the newly opened restaurant Bricco at the Hanna.

All this gives me such hope for the area once the NEVER-ENDING CONSTRUCTION is finished. I can see, with all the effort they've put into bringing people to live downtown, that once there's enough pulse and activity to draw them out of the Statler, there's going to be a burgeoning night life in the area.

Already Fred has assembled the railing that marks off the Hanna's al fresco seating, and on nice days, it's easily packed by 5.

More outdoor seating means more people will stay downtown after work for happy hour - which could lead to the urge to shop (if someone could provide the wares - Banyan Tree, Knuth Shoes, Anna Van H. are you listening?) increase impromptu meet ups as well as decrease rush hour congestion.

I can't wait for summer to increase the pulse of the city and hopefully bring even more life to an area that's all too often deserted.