Sep 23, 2012 by Jenna Zine

This is an actual conversation that took place between my husband and myself last night in bed. Don't worry - totally PG material ahead!

Me: "I'm feeling a little warm. Could you please turn the fan on?"

Him: "What?"

Me: "The fan. Could you please turn it on?"

Him: "The fan?"

Me: "Yes, the fan! Could you please turn it on?" 

(The lights were out and the fan is on his side of the bed, for anyone wondering, "Why didn't you just turn it on yourself?" Plus he's my husband and he loves doing things for me - just not in this moment, apparently.)

Him: "You want the fan on?"

Me: "For the love of god. Yes, I want the fan on."

Him: "I'll turn the fan on for you."

Me: "Thanks! I was beginning to think you were trying to gaslight me." 

Him: "Gaslight?"

Me: "Yes, gaslight."

Him: "I've never heard of that."

Me: "Seriously?"

Him: "No. Gaslight? What is it?"

Me: "It's a phrase and a cultural touchstone regarding a person who is trying to drive someone else mad. It's derived from a movie."

Him: "A movie? What's the name of the movie?"

Me: "Gaslight."

Him: "Gaslight?"

Me: "Yes!"

Him: "The name of the movie is Gaslight?"

Me: "Yes! The. name. of. the. movie. is. Gaslight!" 

Him: "What's it about?"

Me: "It's about a wife who tells her husband to be quiet so she can go to sleep. She's really tired and doesn't want to engage in conversation anymore, but she promises to fill him in in the morning. It's very compelling."

Him: "Who's in it?"

Me: "You, in about 20 seconds if you do not shut it." 

Amends were made and bleary eyes soothed over coffee this morning. Needless to say, Gaslight was moved to the top of our Netflix queue, to be watched immediately. I still wonder though how he could not be familiar with Gaslight. Everyone knows that. Unless... wait a minute! 
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Sep 14, 2012 by Jenna Zine
Thumbnail image for padmas food.jpgI've recently noticed a trend when ordering food. It's come to my attention that people are getting active with their meals and the new phrase is, "I'm gonna do the... [insert dish of your choice here]."

"I'm gonna do." Remember such quaint phrases as, "I'd like to try the..." or "I'll have the..." To have, to do, to try - of the three, why does "do" ping my radar? It might be my dirty little mind (which nicely accompanies my trucker-like mouth), but "do" sounds so sexual to me. 

Perhaps it's the rise and rule of the foodie culture. Thanks to the Food Network, the Travel Channel and Bravo, everyone has access to the inner workings of restaurants like never before. One can educate him or herself simply by sitting on the couch! What a luxury. And if you're in front of your laptop instead of the tube, the fabulous will fill you in on all you need know. (Want to learn from one of the best armchair enthusiasts around? Check out Steve Albini's website Mario Batali Voice. Who's Steve Albini? Oh, just that guy who recorded Nirvana - who happens to be both an incredibly talented writer and home chef on the side. All in a day's work.) 

Being a foodie is a luxury, which is where "to do" comes in. It's the Bacchanalia of our times. Pork belly with every dish! Farm to table in the form of cheeses and meats with carefully crafted backstories that would make Hemingway weep. The price of admission? A dinner reservation and whatever you're willing and able to plunk down. And thanks to the gourmet food cart craze, you can also get in on this willful orgy for $10 or less. Now that's a bargain - and you don't even have to strip down! 

My favorite "to do" theory that's been rattling around in my brain includes the celebrity chefs and sexy hosts that populate the airwaves. You might request the porchetta at Clyde Common, but what you're really asking for is an entree of Curtis Stone. Yes, Curtis is the catch - the one you take home to your parents and hope to marry (the adorable Gail Simmons being the female version). Anthony Bourdain is either the dirtiest one-night stand you'll ever have, or the hottest long-term relationship you'll ever know. (Seems like an either or with Anthony!) Eric Ripert and Padma Lakshmi are the refined unattainables - you can gaze longingly, but you're more likely to snag a last minute table on a Saturday night at Per Se than you are to find yourself in bed with either one of these two. Bubbly Rachael Ray is your sorority chick, the one you have that girl-on-girl kiss with as you lean over the keg and lock lips to the uproarious cheers of fellow party-goers. You can still laugh about it with her at the reunion ten years later over a bottle of Pinot Gris, as you show off your massive diamond rings while swapping stories about married life. For every sorority girl, there's got to be a frat guy nearby. I don't know why, but Rocco DiSpirito comes to mind. It might be that preppy bounce in his step. You'll crush on him for ages and, after months of flirting, you'll finally land the date - only to learn it's taking place at a sports bar, during a game, with his buddies in tow. He will get you your own frosted mug and pour your beers though, so you'll wind up giving him another chance. 

Granted, not everyone is casting their favorite chefs/hosts in a private rom-com, so I ran this theory by my husband to get another perspective. Not surprisingly, he had a completely different take. When he hears "I'm gonna do..." he thinks of checking things off a list. As indulgent as the foodie culture can be, there's also an air of competition. Have you had the fish sauce wings at Pok Pok? Yep, right after Andy Ricker* brought the recipe back from Thailand. What's next? In an era where time literally is as valuable as money, one has to be proactive. There's no window to get to Beast "one of these days" - not when new restaurants are springing up weekly. It's too easy to fall behind... and then what? You, my friend, will not be in the know. Are you gonna be like Nike and just do it?

*I can't leave this post without casting Andy Ricker. He would be the sweetheart you've known since high school - the good guy who, it turns out, is the love of your life and was right under your nose the whole time!

[Photo Credit: I did my best to deliver Padma to your bed, dear reader - but this is as close as I got. Credit links to a great article from the blog, Cooking Down Under. A fun read, which includes a very good reason why you should enjoy burgers in the privacy of your own home!]
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Sep 12, 2012 by Jenna Zine
Thumbnail image for hologic.JPGSo, it's time for the mammogram. No big deal, just a checkup. It's something we ladies do - get our breasts smashed in a machine and have photos taken from every angle. If I didn't know better, I'd think Joe Francis was behind the idea for the whole procedure. 

I had a little time on my hands while I was standing there trapped between two slabs of plastic. My eyes couldn't help but be drawn to the name of the machine: Hologic. Ho. Logic. 

I started turning it over in my mind and decided the name seemed better suited for a rap song. I kinda wished Snoop Lion (nee Dogg) could've joined in and brought along some booty-poppin' dancers. Siemens apparently has quite a sense of humor, to which I say, "Bravo!"

[Photo Credit: Yes, I brought my cell phone into the exam room (in airplane mode) and yes I snatched it from my purse to snap a picture as soon as the attendant left the room.]

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