alexandra alger

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Archive for the category “Life”

16 Nov 2015

When the Real World Intrudes

I didn’t get a lot of writing done this week, glued as I was to reading about protests and discussion about racial discrimination at Yale, my alma mater. I learned that many students of color are subject to racial slurs and comments that other students—and faculty members!—don’t even seem to realize they’re making. I learned that black women in particular feel that Yale isn’t theirs and doesn’t care about them. I couldn’t believe what I was reading at first; the Yale I knew was a place of equality and respect for everyone, regardless of background, gender and race. Wasn’t it? A stream of Facebook comments, blog postings and articles by African-American alums and current students let me know how clueless I was. Powerful, frank and true words from Roxane Gay in the New York Times today:

“There is a degree of safety members of certain populations will never know. White people will never know the dangers of being black in America, systemic, unequal opportunity, racial profiling, the constant threat of police violence. Men will never know the dangers of being a woman in America, harassment, sexual violence, legislated bodies. Heterosexuals will never know what it means to experience homophobia. Those who take safety for granted disparage safety because it is, like so many other rights, one that has always been inalienable to them. They wrongly assume we all enjoy such luxury and are blindly seeking something even more extravagant. They assume that we should simply accept hate without wanting something better. They cannot see that what we seek is sanctuary. We want to breathe.”

Even as I was reading these words,  the terrorist slaughter in Paris (a lack of safety on another order entirely) was distracting me. My husband Dan and I have passed much of the last two days watching updates on T.V. (Count of the dead up to 132.; attackers being traced to an impoverished Brussels suburb.) It seems to me the French authorities have worked exceptionally fast. They have already pinpointed members of the terrorist group who are still at large, including a French citizen whose photo has already appeared so frequently I think I would actually recognize him if I saw him. (To be the one to bring him in—what a thought; the stuff of fiction!)

In Paris, schools, museums, the Eiffel Tower, all will reopen tomorrow. The French will leave their homes and try to go about their lives once again. We New Yorkers who lived through 9-11 understand their fear. We lived it. We survived, and they will, too. And working together the world’s major powers will dismantle ISIS. I have to believe they will.

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09 Sep 2015
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GoButler, Chapter 2

Update on GoButler, the free text-based butler service I joined a few weeks back:

If you read my original post, you know that I was put on a waiting list for my “butler.” Eleven days later, I got a cheery text: “Hi and welcome to GoButler! 🙂 I’m Ian—what can I help you with today? I can order food, make reservations, book travel…whatever you need!”

Naturally, I sent back a cheery hello and a I’ll be in touch soon. Funny thing was, with my husband’s birthday out of the way (it was a big success—I’m off the hook for another year), I couldn’t think of a task for Ian. Order groceries for delivery? Giving a list to Ian to give to some delivery service is more work than my doing it myself (Freshdirect couldn’t be easier). Order take out? I suppose I could say, “Ian—one order of Massaman curry, thanks!” but that would go against the grain. Like many New Yorkers, I have my usual places I order from; I don’t want curry from just anywhere. I suppose I could ask Ian (Eloise-like), “Please order me Massaman curry from Café Chili on Court Street, thank you very much!” But….am I really so busy that I can’t call Café Chili myself? Honestly, I’m not too busy to call myself.

So I didn’t contact Ian right away. A few days went by. He must’ve guessed I was at a loss. Or maybe he just needed something to do. He sent this: “It’s Wine Wednesday—let GoButler get you some nice old grape juice, some cheese, and help you unwind. Let me know if you’re interested and I’ll get started! :)”

I was charmed by his idea—wine and cheese! I happened to be in St. Louis last Wednesday night, but I suggested I might order some wine for Friday night. A rosé, for toasting the final days of summer.

But what bottle, exactly? This would not be an issue if I were stopping by the neighborhood wine shop. I’d swiftly choose a bottle in the quasi-random way I usually do. I could’ve asked Ian for advice, but that seemed risky. I suggested a Sancerre rosé, about twenty bucks, which I remembered having earlier in the summer and liking.

I asked where Ian was going to shop for the wine, and he told me GoButler used an online service called MiniBar that checked pricing and availability in stores around me. So far so good, but then guess what—Ian informed me that Minibar had a minimum of $25 for a delivery.

Ha! There it was, the catch: If you want your butler to order you wine, you gotta spend at least $25. I couldn’t offhand think of a $25 bottle of wine, so I added an Albariño to my order. Total spent on my GoButler experiment: $40 (which I paid through a link GoButler sent me, connecting me to PayPal).

The wines were really nice. I suppose I could see myself texting Ian some Friday to send over another bottle of that rosé. But I think I’m much more likely to stop by my local wine shop.

It seems clear that for GoButler to succeed, people like me have to order frequently and spend more money than they might otherwise spend. I may not be the ideal client, but Ian may get a bit of work from me yet. I wonder if he knows who gives the cheapest facials in the ‘hood?

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16 Aug 2015

Oh, Jeeves….

I know there are all kinds of apps out there that will do almost anything for you, but I’ve never gotten on the bandwagon until now. GoButler (gobutler.com) is text-based and free. You sign up on the website—by which I mean, you type in your cell phone number—and you’re on the way to getting your own Jeeves. For the cost of whatever it is that you ask for, your butler will deliver sushi, make dinner reservations, find theater tickets, arrange travel, and, theoretically, do anything you ask, as long as it’s legal. (The website specifically mentions this. Think how big GoButler’s pot-delivery business will eventually be!)
My daughter, Vanessa, is the one who discovered GoButler a few days ago, and when she told me about it I understood in a flash we urgently needed a butler. Why? My husband’s birthday is coming up. He’s one of those guys who actually buys stuff for himself. Clothes. Gadgets. Shoes. Underwear. (Really nice underwear, too.) But he also happens to love presents, especially on his birthday. You can see where such a situation leaves me: First, in a state of denial, which leads to lengthy procrastination. Then panic, and a burst of random shopping a few days before the birthday, August 18, ending in the purchase of the first nice shirt I find. This year, I’ve managed to find a short-sleeved button-down with a cool gray water pattern—perfect for casual Fridays, yes?—and a sophisticated navy button-down that was frankly a panic buy, but he really could use a navy shirt, I’m sure of it.
But when Vanessa looked up for her computer with the news about five-month-old GoButler, and its phalanx of eager-to-please, one-text-away personal assistants, I saw a game-changer. I imagined Dan, thrilled beyond measure at receiving a fantastic birthday present; a present I didn’t have to find. “I could ask for three suggestions for cool gadgets for a fifty-year-old who thinks he’s a hip thirty-year-old,” I said happily.
“And they could tell me what I could get him for under forty dollars,” Vanessa added.
She signed up immediately; I figured there was no need to be greedy; we could share a Jeeves. And that’s when we learned the catch: The service is so popular there’s a waiting list.
Rats.
I see the silver lining, and it’s a thick, bright thing: If Vanessa is assigned a butler sometime this fall, I can get him or her working on Christmas-gift ideas.
A terrible thought just came to me: Is it possible coming up with gift ideas isn’t on the list of butler services? Say it ain’t so!

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05 Jun 2015

Inspiration from Rafa Nadal: Fight!

I’ve been glued to the French Open this week. ESPN and Tennis Channel make watching live tennis from around the globe just so easy. Too easy. And I’m so weak! I could’ve taped matches and watched them after writing hours. Of course I could have. And I clearly have to develop some discipline before Wimbledon begins in a month. I admire the red clay and the gritty play of Paris, but I love the elegance of grass courts and players all in white (and it is kind of fun when the camera finds a royal or two). I remember the days when Roger Federer ruled the grass, and he’d appear on Centre Court in a crisply tailored white jacket that he wore solely for that walk to his chair before his match.

Yesterday, with my computer in front of me, patiently waiting for my attention, I turned on the Rafa-Djokovic French Open quarter final. There wasn’t much to watch, sadly. Rafa Nadal, the King of Clay, who has won a record nine French Open titles, was trounced in straight sets.

Shocked? Yes. Surprised? No. Most commenters had been expecting Djokovic to win. Nadal has struggled in recent months. He didn’t win even one of the clay-court tournaments that he usually dominates and has dominated for nearly a decade. Then again, he’s got good reasons for not being at his best. He had an appendectomy at the end of last year, and has been dealing with back, wrist and knee issues.

Some commenters have already declared him past his prime. They aren’t saying his career is finished, but coming awfully close. It seems to me that anyone who’s watched Rafa for any length of time would know that he is nowhere close to retiring.

He just took the biggest beating of his career (arguably), and what does he take from it?

This is what he said after the match:

”I accept the defeats and there is only one sure thing: I want to work harder even than before to come back stronger. I am going to fight.”

I am going to fight. This from a man who’s already in the history books as one of the best of all time. He’s won 14 Gram Slams, tied for second place with Pete Sampras (behind Federer, who’s won 17). It’s incredible that he still has the fire to achieve even more. Nadal is my inspiration this week. You have to work hard and harder and fight for what you want.

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22 May 2015

Max de Winter and Elizabeth Bennet–in the same sentence!

I found myself taking Rebecca off the bookshelf. Not to re-read it, which I’ve done a number of times over the years. I’d been thinking about how to handle someone was not answering my phone calls or emails about an important matter, and how personally I should take this, when all of a sudden I thought of Max de Winter, impassively tolerating Mrs. Van Hopper and her vulgar questions.

Strange, isn’t it? Max de Winter. Why on earth should I think of him and Mrs. Van Hopper? I read Rebecca when I was in my teens. I remember finding Max attractive, for a middle-aged—his face “arresting, sensitive, medieval….” I understood why the naive young narrator married him (not that she had much choice—staying with Mrs. Van Hopper was a no go).

Reading again those early pages in which the narrator and Max meet, I now see that Max wasn’t much of a role model, at all. In his future wife’s eyes (and my teen-aged ones), his manners are irreproachable, and if he is distant, it’s because he has to be, to keep the Van Hoppers of the world at bay. But really, as we learn later, his aloofness is a form of self-protection. He’s riddled with guilt. Taking a broader view, he’s a terrible husband to his young second wife. We know he has his reasons—and he shapes up, sort of—but he’s no kind of role model.

If we’re talking strictly about how to handle difficult people, I would try to learn from Elizabeth Bennet, my favorite Jane Austen character. She refuses to sugarcoat the truth, but manages to express it with uncommon adroitness. Think of how she handles her first marriage proposal, from Mr. Collins. She tells him “no” three times, and he still refuses to believe she’s not simply being coy in the way of “elegant” females. She cries, “I do assure you, Sir, that I have no pretension whatsoever to that kind of elegance which consists in tormenting a respectable man. I would rather be paid the compliment of being believed.” One of my favorite scenes in Pride and Prejudice is when Lady Catherine de Bourgh tries to bully Elizabeth into rejecting an offer of marriage that she has heard—erroneously—that her nephew Darcy has made. Elizabeth coolly holds her own against the snobbish old woman, telling her whether or not she marries Darcy is her own business. “How far your nephew might approve of your interference in his affairs, I cannot tell; but you certainly have no right to concern yourself in mine. I must beg, therefore, to be importuned no farther on the subject.”

Oh, to have a reason to use that last line!

So what would Elizabeth do, faced with my dilemma, a person who refuses to engage? She isn’t one to shy away from a challenge. I’m guessing she would, in all good humor, continue to call until she reached him. And that is what I will do.

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02 Dec 2013

Hash!

My first turkey in years led to my first turkey hash in years. Damn, it’s good stuff! And there’s not much to it. I modified Julia Child’s recipe from The Way to Cook, taking out the veg (except for a handful of peas) and the cheese.

I’ve also managed to do a pretty good job on the leftover apple crisp and pumpkin cheesecake. I’m not the kind of person who can ignore two of the tastiest desserts in existence. Mysteriously, disturbingly, I’ve gotten  little help from those kids, who are supposed to be growing and needing calories, for crying out loud.

Julia Child’s Old-Fashioned Hash:

Serves 4

2 cups boneless, skinless cooked turkey, cut into small pieces

2 cups of diced potatoes

1 cup diced onion

1 TSP fresh lemon juice

2 tsp. minced fresh thyme

2 TB butter

2 TB olive oil

2 TB flour

1 1/2 cups hot liquid (milk, chicken stock, gravy; I used stock)

2/3 cups diced vegetables (peas, carrots, broccoli;I used frozen peas)

2/3 cups grated cheese (Swiss, cheddar, Monterey Jack or mozzarella)

salt and pepper to taste

In a bowl, toss the turkey with the lemon juice, olive oil, and thyme; set aside.

Peel and dice the potatoes. Drop them into a pot of lightly salted water and simmer, 5 minutes or so, until barely tender. Drain.

Saute the onions slowly in a 10-inch frying pan with the butter until tender. Raise heat slightly and brown lightly, about 10 minutes. Blend in the flour; cook, stirring for 3 minutes. Remove from heat and blend in one cup of hot liquid. Simmer, stirring, for two minutes. Season with salt and pepper.

Fold in the potatoes, turkey and the peas, and the remaining hot liquid. Cover the pan and simmer slowly, uncovering to stir occasionally, until the potatoes are tender and you can’t wait to eat any longer! That was about 10-15 minutes for me; Julia likes to keep it simmering 35 minutes, adding liquid as necessary, and then adding cheese and cooking uncovered until the bottom is browned and well-crusted.

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17 Nov 2013

Yes to Pecan Pie

Obsessing over Thanksgiving meal for family, for no particularly good reason. They could not be more easy going when it comes to food (and that may be the only way in which they are easy going). The tried and true is all anyone wants at Thanksgiving–nonetheless I’ve spent hours leafing through recipes and testing new ones. Brussels sprouts with pancetta instead of mixed roasted vegetables? But then is that too much meat, if I make that stuffing with the sausage? How about red cabbage? Or squash no sweet potatoes but we’re having mashed how about peas and baby onions? Tested two Brussels spouts recipes before my husband Dan casually allowed: “I don’t really like Brussels sprouts.” I stared at him. This after countless meals featuring the little green things. Okay, then: no sprouts for Thanksgiving. Phew. We’ll stick with roasted root vegetables, which everyone loves, or least doesn’t complain about. Next I made a pecan and chocolate tart out of the November 2012 Bon Appétit, on the off chance it might trump my own much beloved pecan-pie recipe. And it didn’t. The chocolate overwhelmed the flavor of the pecans, and the tart crust was oddly tasteless. Served me right. The recipe that works every time for me strikes just the right balance between nuttiness and sweetness.

Alex’s Pecan Pie (an amalgam of recipes from the Silver Palate, Epicurious and others):

4 large eggs

2 cups chopped pecans, 1 cup or so pecan halves

1 1/4 cups dark brown sugar

3/4 cup light corn syrup

1/2 stick sweet butter, melted

2 tsp. vanilla extract

1/4 tsp. cinnamon

9-inch prepared or homemade pie crust, unbaked

(3 oz. good-quality semi-sweet chocolate chips, if desired)

In a 250-degree oven, crisp the nuts on a cookie tray for 5 to 10 minutes, until fragrant and crunchy.

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Line a 9-inch glass pie dish with crust (or bring store-bought to room temperature). Whisk sugar, eggs, butter, syrup, vanilla and cinnamon together. Reserve a handful of the chopped nuts and put aside. Spread the rest in the bottom of the pie shell and pour in the filling until you reach the top edge of the crust (you can add the chocolate chips, also, if desired). Use the handful of nuts you saved on any spots that don’t appear to have enough nuts. Arrange the pecan halves around the edge of the pie as decoration. Bake on a baking tray on the middle oven rack for around 40 minutes, until the filling has gelled but no means hard. If crust is browning too quickly, cover with foil. Cool at room temperature with vanilla ice cream or whipped cream.

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