Spring training

So here we are. Another couple weeks have passed. Work is busy-busy-busy. It's spring in Brooklyn. And Mlle. Parker is doing great.

Nearing 17 pounds, she has started eating solids. No surprise, she loves food and has not turned down the banana, avocado or sweet potato we've offered. It, and she, is hilarious. 

She really enjoyed my piece in the Times this week, 36 Hours on the Left Bank, and now wants to go to Paris. But first, we're going to warm up with a long weekend in Puerto Rico.

I miss writing and exercising. I miss going out for cocktails with friends. I miss being lazy and not having to think about things. But I am so in love and can't imagine life any other way.

When the quotidian is sublime

It was a good week. Just a typical, nothing outrageous, week, but it was brilliant.

Work is super enjoyable and not stressful at the moment. Do you realize what a big difference it makes when you're not constantly rushing to and from the office, preparing for meetings and presentations, worried if what you're producing is good enough? Of course you do - we all do it, all the time. Thankfully, my job has been so manageable lately - the perfect balance of business. And I'm loving my colleagues. And we're temporarily working in Soho, which makes coming and going every day, not to mention the lunch options (I'm currently obsessed with Birdbath), a joy.

I'm back at yoga once or twice a week and have time to read.

There were two great meals out this week: At Sfoglia and Waverly Inn. They're both so charming and cozy, and absolutely delicious, I want to move right in.

The former was a brilliant solo date, where I took myself out for a meal before going to see Michael Pollan, my hero, the reason I haven't eaten red meat in 15 years (!) now, at the 92Y. I get panicky when I don't have reading material so I went to the fabulous Kitchen Arts  & Letters beforehand and chose Molly Wizenberg's new memoir, only to discover when I got to the Y that we got a free copy of Cooked - woohoo!

The latter was a brilliant date-date with my man. He made reservations for dinner and got tickets to see John Wesley Harding's Cabinet of Wonders at City Winery. Just for fun.
 
It was the second Saturday night in a row that we went into the city for a night of it, last weekend being my friend's lovely wedding, where we had fun, dancing and laughing with old friends. (And took note, since our wedding is now less than a month away!)

In fact, this past week also included a tasting with our caterer...

... and we're trying to wrap up all loose ends, final details and backup plans.

I even had time to finish a freelance assignment.

And Andrew ran the Brooklyn Half Marathon, so I met him out at the finish line in Coney Island. He's a champ - made the whole thing look easy.

I am so mindful right now of how much I'm enjoying the pace and contents of life. So my question is: what is the secret? How do I hold onto this feeling of awareness, appreciation and balance? I know work is going to pick up. That stress will come as the wedding gets closer. That I'll simply wake up one morning, less aware, more ambivalent. How do we preserve the days of fulfillment and always draw strength and inspiration from them?

My Next Big Thing

This isn’t me willingly talking about it. I’m actually not quite sure what my next thing will be, much less my Next Big Thing. But when Karen Wheeler, aka Mimi Pompom of the fabulous Tout Sweet series, invited me to share details of my next project through this pay-it-forward web event, who was I to say non? After all, anyone who loves Spinal Tap, Anna Wintour and pink champagne (and France!), and graciously gave Paris, My Sweet a plug (“Willie Wonka for grown ups”), is someone I’m in with.

So, without further ado… let the questions begin!

Where did the idea come from for the book?

It’s been a slow simmer. I’ve been thinking through several different book ideas over the past few months, trying to figure out which has that perfect balance of excitement (for me), novelty (for readers) and salability (for publishers)—something I’d want to write as much as people would want to read. After mulling over these ideas and sort of shelving them, I just suddenly had a new idea while walking up First Avenue that I’m very excited about.

What genre does your book fall under?

If my agent is into the idea and it’s written and sold, it will be under the label of food journalism.

Which actors would you choose to play your characters in a movie rendition?

It would be awesome to have the real characters play themselves. In fact, it would be a killer documentary. Hmmm… I like it! I hadn’t thought of that before!

What is the one-sentence synopsis of your book?

Too soon to say.

Will your book be self-published or represented by an agency?

My fabulous agent is with Dystel and Goderich Literary Management.

How long did it take you to write the first draft of your manuscript?

I just started the book proposal so I’m looking at a long but delicious slog ahead of me.

What other books would you compare this story to within your genre?

I would never compare myself to my writer-idol, David Kamp, but The United States of Arugula is great inspiration.

Who or what inspired you to write this book?

Everything about the food world—from the sublime to the inane—and all of us suckers who worship it.

What else about your book might pique the reader’s interest?

It will be timely, it will be fast-paced and it will be delicious.

Now I’m supposed to tag five writers who will share details about their next big thing, but my friends Ann Mah and Sion Dayson were already spoken for. So while I’m only tagging three, they’re wildly talented and I’m more than happy to pass the torch to...

Alyssa Shelasky. When I first discovered Alyssa’s blog, I was immediately sucked in. And seduced. Crazy girl crush ensued. She has a fabulous lifestyle, cool friends, dreamy writing assignments—and yet she’s totally honest, vulnerable and down to earth. And wickedly funny as her blog-to-book, Apron Anxiety, attests.

Jeryl Brunner is the sunniest New Yorker you will ever meet. Not only is she a lovely person in the flesh, but her wit, wisdom, generosity and passion come through on every page of her book, My City, My New York. Lucky for Angelinos, she’s spotlighting LA in her sequel due out in the spring.

Juliette Sobanet. If there is one thing that the publication of Paris, My Sweet has shown me, it’s that there are a lot of Francophiles and chocophiles out there. Juliette is a case in point. A kindred spirit, we share passions for Paris and chocolate. But if we’re to believe at least a little personal experience informed her two best-selling novels, Kissed in Paris and Sleeping with Paris she was definitely a little luckier in the love department.

My Vegan Mondays

Morning

Coffee & soy milk

Apple & cinnamon oatmeal

Afternoon

Cannellini bean salad from Amy’s Bread

Almonds

An orange

Evening

Sunshine Pie from Life Thyme, where I also dipped into the free samples of vegan cookies one-two-three too many times

So I’m coming out of my quasi-hibernation, my little break from overloaded schedules and emotional taxation. Thank you for your patience and kind words. I wouldn’t say I’m back with a vengeance, but I’m back. And happy for it. Ready to crank up the productivity levels again. Excited for new summer adventures.

On the book front, I had the delicious honor of being interviewed by Joan Hamburg for her talk radio show. A foodie and Francophile herself, it was fun to chat chocolate and cookies with her. I also found out my book is getting translated into Portuguese for the great, big country of Brazil, and it’s also been recorded and released as an audio book. Further heartening news: one of my best friends as well as a dear cousin are both reading Paris, My Sweet with their book clubs—which is so sweet, but also makes me feel a little funny (there's always someone who hates the book and/or author... how will they respond when the inevitable happens?? Eek!)

On the personal front, I happily have a man in my life. But I lost a dear aunt. I guess life is nothing if not a rollercoaster with many lessons to be learned and moments to be savored. I’m weaning myself, even if it’s ever so slightly, from sugar; working on an article about my beloved home, Connecticut; and wondering how I can get a Tracy Anderson body without the workouts (accepting all ideas and advice on any of the former points).

Et toi? What have you lovelies been up to??

A funny thing happened on the way to Paris

The first time, I mean. When I first moved to Paris in 2009, it was to replace another American writer at Ogilvy. Rosecrans Baldwin. He was done with living abroad and moving back to the States. I never met him in person, but heard great things about him. We became Facebook friends, commiserated via email a handful of times, and I knew through the grapevine that he was writing a book. About Paris. And Ogilvy.

Jump cut a couple of years. I got my hands on an advance copy of his book, brilliantly titled Paris I Love You But You’re Bringing Me Down. I laughed out loud, tracing the characters in his book to mine—our colleagues in Paris. I got to relive the giddiness of my first months at the office all over again. I was secretly envious of his book and the cool way he described everything.

And then another funny thing happened. Today. A piece I wrote for NPR’s 3 Books, which included Rosecrans’s book came out. As did a roundup on Vogue.com that included both of our books.

How uncanny that we shared such similar experiences: being recruited by the same guy to come write ad copy in Paris, spending shy of two years being alternately seduced and slapped by the city, and then returning home and writing books about our experiences? The story of fate continues...

Number 9!

Back in the summer of 2008, I was astonished when the New York Times accepted my pitch for a Velib spree through Paris that targeted the city's best chocolatiers. Then the Tour du Chocolat went on to become a Top 10 travel story for the year.

This morning I found out it happened again: A Paris Farewell came in at Number 9 on the list of top travel articles for 2011. Hooray!

I couldn't be happier—not only for the insane honor, but because that piece was indeed a love letter to Paris. I loved researching and writing it, I loved sharing it and hearing all the wonderful responses, and I still love all the memories I carry with me as a result. Especially since I've been missing Paris like mad lately. (Paris, je t'aime. Encore et toujours.)

Five weeks and counting

If 2011 was all about writing my book, then peeking through the window of 2012 seems to be all about launching the sucker.

The cover's been designed and the advance copies have gone out.

Paris, My Sweet hits stores in just over five weeks. Soon thereafter, I'll start launch events, sweets smackdowns, readings and anything else required of me (after all, what better excuse to travel back to Paris?!).

If you haven't already joined me on Facebook or Twitter, well, what are you waiting for?! You know I can't get enough of you. In the meantime, I hope you're having a sweet and delicious holiday season.

Merry Christmas, mes amis!

Thinking of you all, from Buenos Aires to Stockholm; Sydney to Seattle; and, of course in New York, Paris and everywhere in between. You’ve stuck with me through 2011 and I love you for it.

May the holidays bring you much joy and obscene amounts of chocolate.

Someone get this guy a book contract!

A friend forwarded this to me last week, making me laugh out loud about six separate times. It was allegedly posted on craigslist. It is undeniably hilarious.

Yoga mat for sale. Used once at lunch hour class. Usage timeline as follows:

11:45a
Register for hot yoga class. Infinite wisdom tells me to commit to 5 class package and purchase a yoga mat. I pay $89.74. Money well spent, I smugly confirm to myself.

11:55a
Open door to yoga room. A gush of hot dry air rushes through and past me. It
smells of breath, sweat and hot. Take spot on floor in back of room next to
cute blonde. We will date.

11:57a
I feel the need to be as near to naked as possible. This is a problem because of the hot blonde to my left and our pending courtship. She will not be pleased to learn that I need to lose 30 pounds before I propose to her.

11:58a
The shirt and sweats have to come off. I throw caution to the wind and decide to rely on my wit and conditioning to overcome any weight issues my fiancée may take issue with. This will take a lot of wit and conditioning.

11:59a
Begin small talk with my bride to be. She pretends to ignore me but I know how she can be. I allow her to concentrate and stare straight ahead and continue to pretend that I don't exist. As we finish sharing our special moment, I am suddenly aware of a sweat moustache that has formed below my nose. This must be from the all the whispering between us.

12:00p
Instructor enters the room and ascends her special podium at the front of the room. She is a slight, agitated Chinese woman. She introduces me to the class and everyone turns around to greet me just as I decide to aggressively adjust my penis and testes packed in my Under Armor. My bride is notably unfazed.

12:02p
Since I do have experience with Hot Yoga (4 sessions just 5 short years ago) I fully consider that I may be so outstanding and skilled that my instructor may call me out and ask me to guide the class. My wife will look on with a sparkle in her eye. We will make love after class.

12:10p
It is now up to 95 degrees in the room. We have been practicing deep breathing exercises for the last 8 minutes. This would not be a problem if we were all breathing actual, you know, oxygen. Instead, we are breathing each other's body odor, expelled carbon dioxide and other unmentionables. (Don't worry, I'll mention them later.)

12:26p
It is now 100 degrees and I take notice of the humidity, which is hovering at about 90%. I feel the familiar adorning stare of my bride and decide to look back at her. She appears to be nauseated. I then realize that I forgot to brush my teeth prior to attending this class. We bond.

12:33p
It is now 110 degrees and 95% humidity. I am now balancing on one leg with the other leg crossed over the other. My arms are intertwined and I am squatting. The last time I was in this position was 44 years ago in the womb, but I'm in this for the long haul. My wife looks slightly weathered dripping sweat and her eyeliner is streaming down her face. Well, "for better or worse" is what we committed to so we press on.

12:40p
The overweight Hispanic man two spots over has sweat running down his legs. At least I think its sweat. He is holding every position and has not had a sip of water since we walked in. He is making me look bad and I hate him.

12:44p
I consider that if anyone in this room farted that we would all certainly perish.

12:52p
It is now 140 degrees and 100% humidity. I am covered from head to toe in
sweat. There is not a square millimeter on my body that is not slippery and sweaty. I am so slimy that I feel like a sea lion or a maybe sea eel. Not even a bear trap could hold me. The sweat is stinging my eyeballs and I can no longer see.

12:55p
This room stinks of asparagus, cloves, tuna and tacos. There is no food in the room. I realize that this is an amalgamation of the body odors of 30 people in a 140 degree room for the last 55 minutes. Seriously, enough with the asparagus, ok?

1:01p
140 degrees and 130% humidity. Look, bitch, I need my space here so don't get all pissy with me if I accidentally sprayed you with sweat as I flipped over. Seriously, is that where this relationship is going? Get over yourself. We need counseling and she needs to be medicated. Stat!

1:09p
150 degrees and cloudy. And hot. I can no longer move my limbs on my own. I have given up on attempting any of the commands this Chinese chick is yelling out at us. I will lay sedentary until the aid unit arrives. I will buy this building and then have it destroyed. I lose consciousness.

1:15p
I have a headache and my wife is being a selfish bitch. I can't really breathe. All I can think about is holding a cup worth of hot sand in my mouth. I cannot remember what an ice cube is and cannot remember what snow looks like. I consider that my only escape might be a crab walk across 15 bodies and then out of the room. I am paralyzed, and may never walk again so the whole crab walk thing is pretty much out.

1:17p
I cannot move at all and cannot reach my water. Is breathing voluntary or involuntary? If it's voluntary, I am screwed. I stopped participating in the class 20 minutes ago. Hey, lady! I paid for this frickin class, ok?! You work for me! Stop yelling at everyone and just tell us a story or something. It's like juice and cracker time, ok?

1:20p
It is now 165 degrees and moisture is dripping from the ceiling. The towel that I am laying on is no longer providing any wicking or drying properties. It is actually placing additional sweat on me as I touch it. My towel reeks. I cannot identify the smell but no way can it be from me. Did someone spray some stank on my towel or something?

1:30p
Torture session is over. I wish hateful things upon the instructor. She graciously allows us to stay and 'cool down' in the room. It is 175 degrees. Who cools down in 175 degrees? A Komodo Dragon? My wife has left the room. Probably to throw up.

1:34p
My opportunity to escape has arrived. I roll over to my stomach and press up to my knees. It is warmer as I rise up from ground level - probably by 15 degrees. So let's conservatively say it's 190. I muster my final energy and slowly rise. One foot in front of the other. One foot in front of the other. Towards the door. Towards the door.

1:37p
The temperature in the lobby is 72 degrees. Both nipples stiffen to diamond strength and my penis begins to retract into my abdomen from the 100 degree temp swing. I can once again breathe though so I am pleased. I spot my future ex wife in the lobby. We had such a good thing going but I know that no measure of counseling will be able to unravel the day's turmoil and mental scarring.

1:47p
Arrive at Emerald City Smoothie and proceed to order a 32 oz beverage. 402 calories, 0 fat and 14 grams of protein -- effectively negating any caloric burn or benefit from the last 90 minutes. I finish it in 3 minutes and spend the next 2 hours writing this memoir.

3:47p
Create Craigslist ad while burning final 2 grams of protein from Smoothie and before the "shakes" consume my body.

4:29p
Note to self - check car for missing wet yoga towel in am.

The week, in one big blur

I worked. And wrote. And worked. And wrote. It was a grueling week, one of those what am I doing with my life? periods that includes tense shoulders, bleary eyes and a scary realization that time does indeed fly. It didn’t in the least bit resemble Carol G’s week, but there were highlights to be sure:

• I had lovely dinners at two of my favorite West Village restaurants: Joseph Leonard and Buvette. All I can say is, yum.
• Pretty walks to and from work through the village; in the morning, the sun made my backside tingly and warm.
• A visit to Whole Foods (yes, this really makes me happy).
• I got to yoga and spinning.
• And Friday night was absolutely brilliant, meeting Bennie and Merrill at St. Ann’s Warehouse in DUMBO for the Karen O “psycho opera,” Stop the Virgens. Extraordinary! Inspiring! Followed by dinner at Jack the Horse Tavern, also out of this world! The smoked trout salad there is officially one of my favorite dishes ever. Ever.
• Best of all, I finished my Belgian chocolate article! I’ll turn it in tomorrow and look forward to a week that’s at least a wee bit more relaxed.

I hope you have great weeks, too!

Sweet on Paris

Did you see my HIP post on Ladurée's macarons here in New York?

Or my Parisian patisserie piece for National Geographic Traveler?

I think I need a new edible assignment, tout de suite!

Le book

Many of you have (graciously) asked what’s going on with my book. Here’s the latest update:

I submitted my manuscript on June 1. Except that I had to turn in the Town + Country article on the alkaline diet two days later, it was perhaps the biggest sigh of relief that’s ever escaped my lips.

I spent June recovering. My poor brain and eyeballs were beyond fatigued, and I had permanent indents on my forearms from where they rest against my desk as I type. And after eating so many greens for the article/diet, I began binging on Ben & Jerry’s—sweet, sweet Ben & Jerry’s.

So recover I did (sort of), and then my editor got back to me with edits right before the Fourth of July holiday. Now I’m back it: revising, editing, strengthening and polishing. I wonder if I’ll ever feel it’s “ready”, but it’s coming together nicely. I have to submit the manuscript again by the end of this month, and then there may be one more round of edits.

Then it gets turned over to design and layout. My editor and I were debating about including photos for each of the chapters. On one hand, pictures of food are always a good thing. But they’ll be black and white. Maybe not worth it? Too junky? What do you think?




Also in August, I have to produce a little sales video for Sourcebook’s sales conference. If anyone has any self-promotion, or hair or makeup tips, speak up!

At some point, I’m hoping to see a couple of design options for the cover. This, I await with bated breath. I sent my “brief” for what I was looking for (bold, graphic, playful; not too girly or cutesy) along with some references. Fingers crossed.



The advance reader copies should be ready in October. These get sent to anyone who expresses interest in reviewing the book. I’ll also start working with publicity then, planning readings, demos, smackdowns, sponsorships, promotions and articles and reaching out to anyone who might want to support the book. (Have any ideas??)

Then in March, we execute all those readings, demos, smackdowns, sponsorships, promotions and articles. For March is when it finally hits the shelf! Oh la la… so close, yet so far away.

And finally, the working title…

Paris, My Sweet
A Year in the City of Light (and Dark Chocolate)

Whaddaya think??