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Posts Tagged ‘sunnyside’

Cheese, Glorious Cheese

Hello, again. Let’s not comment too much on my absence and just say that it takes a good seven days to recover from a twelve-day trip. I don’t know where the other week went.

Our local farmer’s market has been rather consistent over the past year. Except for Ballard’s Honey, no new tents popped up when the market reopened in June. So it was with great delight that I noticed two or three new vendors this past Saturday. And I can’t tell you who all of them were, because everyone else was overshadowed by the offerings of Ardith Mae Farm. Shereen and Todd Wilcox milk about 40 goats in Hallstead, Pennsylvania, and the resulting cheese is some of the best I’ve ever tasted from a sheep, goat or cow.

At this point I should note that the Apparently family doesn’t know a great deal about some foodie topics that people really pride themselves for enjoying, like Burgundy vintages or heirloom beans or cacao percentages. But we know our cheese around here, and this is the good stuff.

We tried the chevre, which was a solid, delicious offering, but it was a single taste of a peppercorn pyramid that won me over. Mr Apparently and I tried to make this piece of cheese last for more than two meals, but it was simply impossible. With its subtle bloomy rind, spicy peppercorns and fluffy, chalky center, the half-pyramid that we purchased was devoured within 24 hours.

You can find places where one can purchase Ardith Mae Farmstead Goat Cheese here, or just head to the Sunnyside Greenmarket!

Also, thanks to the NY Department of Agriculture and Markets for rescinding their ridiculous decree handed down in June (or rather, suddenly enforced after 40 years on the books) that prohibited artisanal cheese vendors from slicing and packaging cheese to order at markets. Customers and headline writers are happy once again.

 

Last Chance (online) for a Few Hats…

Patchwork HatA lovely woman in my neighborhood is opening a childrenswear shop on Skillman Avenue, and Petite Legume will be well represented! I’m working on some new baby kimonos and bird mobiles for the shop, in addition to felt food, headbands and winter hats.

Penguin pantsSome of the listings in my Etsy shop are expiring soon, and so I’ve put them on sale. If they don’t sell, they will be going to Petunia as well, and I expect they’ll be priced much higher there, so consider this an insider tip!

I Drink Only Decaf Anyway

My friends seem to be in cahoots and think I should open a coffeehouse. Now, it’s true that my neighborhood is devoid of a decent place to get a good cup of coffee, and not one but three coffee spots have closed in the nabe within the past year (two within the past two months).

And it’s true that I have some strong opinions about how a coffeehouse should be run.

But someone’s going to have to give me a very strong argument for why I should hire someone else to raise my child so that I can pull espresso and manage baristas twelve hours a day before I will seriously consider this sort of entrepreneurial career route. Even if – especially if – there is a knitting shop element to this plan. As we say to our son, persuade me. Or, get back to me in five years.

(The state of coffee in NYC is greatly improved of late. Bald and Effective sent me this article from the New York Times that lists 30 places to get a great cup in the city. Not one is in Sunnyside, but one is in Long Island City, a leisurely 25-minute walk away.)

Go ahead, convince me. I’ve suggested to more than one of you that the first step is to find out the rent on the Daco Romano space and/or any of the other empty storefronts in the neighborhood, and no one has presented me with any numbers. If you’re serious, dangle some useful information. Who knows…I might just take the bait.

On the other hand, it took me many, many years to understand that just because you think you can do something better doesn’t mean that you should.

felt coffee cup by me, actually. it’s a prototype. more to come.

The Snowy Day, Redux

The Good, The Bad, and the Ugly

Good: Snuggling in bed with Apparently Junior, reading his favorite books about tractors and fire trucks, while huge flakes of snow tumbled around outside the windows.
Bad: Why in bed? We were both exhausted, having been up since before dawn. And I tried to nap this afternoon, really I did, but the ConEd guys drilling in the street outside were having none of it. “We have to work in the snow; you don’t get to sleep during the day time,” they said. Or, they would have if I’d opened the window and asked them – nicely, of course – to stop. And if they spoke using semi-colons.
Ugly: The ConEd guys left three orange cones blocking the entrance to my street. I watched as an SUV drove over one of them, dragged it a few feet, and then backed up into the intersection in an attempt to dislodge the errant beacon. Back and forth, several times, until the passenger was discharged to investigate, and she then appealed to a building super who was salting the sidewalks, who finally yanked out the wayward cone. I can only assume that the ConEd guys left the cones for a reason (other than neglect), and that the SUV is going to receive some sort of nastygram when they return to find it parked over their manhole cover.

Toddler Math, or Let’s Play in the Snow

The walk from our apartment to preschool is five blocks. A healthy adult can make this walk in five minutes, or perhaps six if one observes all traffic signals. A healthy adult walking with a curious toddler, however, can make this walk in fifteen minutes at best, and that’s if the lights cooperate, as we stop for every one. Short legs plus an affinity for asking questions about each truck, bird and sound makes for a chilly journey in winter weather. So usually we take the stroller to school. And let’s be honest: this is for the boy’s mother’s comfort. He’s happy to play in the cold.
This morning, however, we woke to a rare bit of snow.
And so I bundled us both up and we walked to school.

A New Post about The New Post

In my neighborhood, a great little diner called The New Post sits on a corner just across from the subway entrance. It should suffice to say that my son pretty much grew in utero on bacon, egg and cheese (on a croissant, no less) sandwiches from this fine establishment. While it’s a classic New York breakfast joint, The New Post also proudly proclaims itself to serve Mexican food, and the tacos are a fine weekday substitute for the local taco truck, which doesn’t show up until 8pm.

So it was truly disappointing what arrived when B ordered a plate of nachos yesterday. I understand that nachos aren’t the most authentic of Mexican fare, but the plate of hard tortilla chips covered with canned refried beans, chunks of tomato and pepper, and hiding a pile of grilled chicken was topped with just-barely-melted orange American cheese. It was almost as if they were saying, “You can order this, but we don’t have to be happy about making it.”

thanks to Let’s Meet up in Queens for the photo