a new order from yale

working in pr/marketing you get bombarded with a billion things you just HAVE to read/see/hear everyday. granted i do the same on behalf of the fashion brand i work for, but my e-mails are totally less annoying…probably not.

i digress…

while the majority of what i receive can be categorized as varying degrees of rubbish, every once in a while something actually interesting floats by and grabs my a.d.d-laden attention span.

case and point: out of order magazine founded and run by the students of yale university.

cast away any and all preconceived notions of what you think a college magazine might look like. OOO is not your average student-run publication, then again, yale is not your average university.

executed with the same pomp and circumstance that is attributed to it’s alma mater, the magazine and website are clean, aesthetically-striking and almost elitist in style (but in that this-just-may-be-too-cool-for-you way).

pretension aside, the content seems to keep up with the tome’s shiny exterior: fashion interviews with ellen von unworth, reviews on the newest warhol exhibit at the met, op-eds on the convergence of rap and fashion, film reviews, street style galleries, and an androgynous lifestyle section housing everything else (food, where to party in nyc, basement nightlife…the usual).

then of course there is the to-be-expected section…student interviews. but hold the phone, instead of spotlighting that kid from your 8th grade homeroom who just won his 4th consecutive science fair (tool), these students are making albums, showing at galleries and producing noteworthy films. not bad for college seniors.

so while i go wash off the stench of being less accomplished than a twenty-year old, you should go enjoy out of order. it’s refreshing, engaging, and the perfect amalgam of cultural fodder to keep you procrastinating all week long.

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true grit: the hart and the hunter

welcome the hart and the hunter. no, it’s not a revival play of aesop’s fable (because i am SURE that’s what you were thinking), but rather the clever moniker of brian dunsmoor and kris tominaga’s first permanent eatery.

gaining true acclaim with their venice pop-up sensation wolf in sheep’s clothing (clearly these guys have a real knack for titles), the two decided to take the show off the road and hang up their aprons within the swanky hipsterness of the palihotel.

with a clear southern flair, the space is bright, very turquoise, very tiled, and boasts a 1950’s-style countertop perfect for a slice of pie and some fresh brewed handsome coffee. the equally southern hipster staff mills about in casual conversation, which intended or not, only adds to the space’s incredibly “down-home” aesthetic.

that cozy sensation is equally matched in the food. especially the biscuits.

mmmm, the biscuits.

melted butter, pastry dough and pure magic (yup, magic) come together in fluffy, this-is-my-one-island-food-of-choice awesomeness. while the accompaniments are nice (persimmon jam, honey butter, etc.), the biscuit alone has you at hello (and by hello, i mean scent…that i would like to bottle). the fact that there were only 4 to a serving was perhaps the biggest issue… so we had to order another helping…and then another. gluttony is clearly lost on us.

reading the menu, one quickly comes to imagine the dishes are inspired by a taste-fueled civil war. true southern fare is deliciously muddled with experimental yankee panache – fried green tomatoes with chow chow, collared green marmalade, and fried chicken livers with apple/onion jam and hazelnut.  ya know, just like what the soldiers munched on in 1862.

with our forked bayonets at the ready, my party and i attacked the menu with valor and determination: venison carpaccio with horseradish crème fraiche, chopped steak with bone marrow, melted raclette with butterball potatoes and cornichon, hanger steak with snail and herb butter, cheddar and chive grits, and roasted brussel sprouts to seal the deal. dessert was slightly more humble (for us) in the form of chocolate and peanut crunch cake, apple dumpling with hooks cheddar and a polenta pound cake of sorts.

the fact that we were able to walk out without waddling came as a surprise to not only us, but the watchful staff.

delicious, scrumptious and truly comforting, the hart and the hunter was a perfect treat, and the best news of all? their weekend brunch is coming soon.

(photos by palihotel)

berlin, the comeback kid

i am stricken with the impetuous travel bug. like many, it ails me throughout the year, particularly on mondays, and generally between 2pm and 5pm.

today’s fix? berlin. why? the festival of lights.

for two weeks every year, berlin and its landmarks get bathed in artist-inspired, large-scale displays of light. the candyland concoction of colors, images and shapes on nearly 300-year old buildings, is not only visually stunning, but also pays tribute to the city’s dichotomous nature – the young with the old, the history mixed in with the present.

in truth, beyond the festival, berlin has actually always intrigued me. a city that is in constant juxtaposition with a sobering past, yet doesn’t ignore it, but builds upon it with modernism and a continually renewed sense of culture (the festival being a perfect example).

that renewed culture has lead to an influx of the european creative class – thick-rimmed glasses, tousled-hair, painstakingly disheveled – you know the type. a walk down the street recalls images of modern-day getrude steins and arthur rimbauds; refined hipsters perhaps…except there they are just berliners. no judgment though, these stylishly precocious denizens have galvanized the city with an explosive contemporary art scene, an independent film community and a food forum to rival that of london and paris.

all of this to say…i need to go. and i need to go now.

perhaps a stay at the schlosshotel im grunewald (anything that has oxblood walls and touts 600+ thread count calls my name), a saunter over to andreas murkudis’s eponymous concept store (i.want.everything.) and stop for a savory treat at konnopke’s imbiss (you just can’t go wrong with a 50-year old sausage stand)…and of course the festival of lights.

the city’s constant evolution is mesmerizing…even in pictures…and on this bland monday, i can think of no better place to daydream myself to than new ole’ berlin.

true grit: gjelina – a love letter


guest blogger: l.d.

restaurants are my boyfriends. we embark upon a whirlwind love affair; the first flush of the unfamiliar dishes that delight and surprise, honeymoon phase of frequent visits and declarations of eternal love, until inevitably the intoxication of the new fades and another fresher establishment captures my affections. however there is one place, the prototypical bad boy of dining establishments who remains trenchant and aloof, and although i know it just isn’t that into me, i just can’t quite keep myself away.

everything is difficult about this place. you can barely find it if not for the pseudo-bohemians that crowd its entrance, much like clubbers awaiting the leniency of a bouncer. an impromptu visit garners a bitchslap of a waiting time. the clientele seem to be poignantly selected to make you feel bad about yourself. they are better dressed, fitter and thinner than you, just accept it.

the lighting is dim, the brass walls cold to the touch, the clamor of other patrons making it hard to even hear. however with that rebelliousness comes a certain innate badassery that is lacking in most other aim-to-please establishments. this is the place that doesn’t give a shit if you want dressing on the side, victoria beckham, you’re going to eat it the way we make it.

even the name is hard to figure out at first- gjelina. i’ll bet you three of their butterscotch pot de la crèmes that you can’t find someone who can pronounce it right the first time.

although i was wary, i knew my bearded guest with a penchant for quality cocktails and french press coffee would appreciate the haughtiness that tends to ward off plebian gourmands. armed with the reassurance of a reservation, our gangly hipster host escorted us past the communal table where the artfully disheveled crowd nibbled on kale salads, to the cozy back patio. we cracked our knuckles and dove head first into brussel sprouts with caramelized onions and bacon, grilled pears with buratta and bacon vinaigrette, miyake mushroom toast with truffle oil, squash blossom and buratta pizza, and pillowy gnocchi with mushrooms.

the intriguing irony of gjelina is that as carefully crafted as the ambiance and ongoings may be, the food is beautifully, effortlessly simple. the fruits and the vegetables are so fresh, you’d think the chef personally picked each individual cherry tomato himself. dishes that play on the fine line of taste and texture, desserts that verge on caramel nirvana, light rose that washes everything down with the slightest of punches. it all lures me in, crawling back, needing more.

oh gjelina, i just can’t quit you.

the catalog of my dreams

squeal! christmas has come early. LITERALLY.

neiman marcus’ christmas books is out. deep breaths. every year i wait with bated breath for their christmas catalog of delights.

while the clothes may be nice and the shoots may impress, it is the fantasy gifts the put a skip in my step. this year the gifts range from a mere $30,000 to a cool $1.1MM, offering even the most modest of hedonists a chance to get in on the fun.

(the fact that my bank account does even register on the luxury richter-scale is really a non-issue. i’m banking on some sympathetic gajillionaire reading the post and so forth taking pity on my meager soul by purchasing 1-3 of the below items. i’ll also take a cash check if that is preferable.)

1) jetlev R200 – $99,500 – yup, that water-propelled jetpack that let’s is users hover 30ft in the air and coincidentally also causes it’s users to face-plant from 30ft in the air. regardless it’s pretty neat and i am fan of water propulsion. and while you may think the price is expensive for a a hovercraft, neiman marcus throws in a boat, a pilot certification course and radios so you can gab whilst hovering.

2) bulleit woody tailgate trailer – $150,000– while i have never been or heard of a tailgate quite as high-brow as bulleit’s, i figure you are never too old to learn. and i happen to be quite fond of learning things that involve bourbon.  leather furnishings, wood finishings (handcrafted from reclaimed bulleit bourbon casks…of course), glassware, a flat-screen tv, blu-ray, a surround-sound system, plus a one-year supply of bulleit bourbon. truth be told, if i had this i wouldn’t even go out anymore. i would just invite friends to meet me on random street corners for a glass of bourbon and some boogie knights on blu-ray.

3) his and hers 2012 – $1,090,000 – let’s begin with the van cleef & arpels watches: their movement alone took five engineers three years to create. dial scenes become animated (yes, this is an animated watch folks) silhouettes are the hours, shooting stars are the minutes and they each dance to the time across paris landmarks. anhhh…well if this couldn’t get any more romantic, the lucky buyer will also be whisked off to paris and geneva (first-class of course) and given private tours of the van cleef & arpels boutique, atelier and watchmaking workshops (riveting). but they are also providing “remarkable dining experiences and entertainment to suit your preferences,” while in paris, albet i wonder how far someone (read: me) can take that…

and my personal favorite:

4) private dinner for 10 – $250,000 – while this may seem a bit steep for dinner, behold: four of the culinary world’s most notable chefs—daniel boulud, thomas keller, jerome bocuse, and richard rosendale—will be at your beck and call for your own personal feast. in tow they are bringing bertha gonzalez (THE maestra tequilera, duh), to kick off the evening with a serious tequila tasting. my mouth is performing taste bud olympics at the mere thought. the only thing missing is the matching gym membership you’ll need after partaking in such gluttony. but hey i am sure that will make next year’s catalog, and the gym will be located in heaven and god will be your personal trainer.

so who’s up for some shopping?