VittlesVamp

Isn't It Still September?

That's it! What's the point of owning a calendar? Clearly, media and marketing types are oblivious when it comes jumpstarting the holiday season.

The Dallas Morning News and Chicago Tribune are already hawking their respective Christmas cookie recipe contests. And, lest the retailers don't get into the game early enough, Neiman-Marcus has already launched its famed Christmas Book, chocked full of Yuletide music-inspired goodies and over-the-top gift ideas - like a $10 million zeppelin that accommodates 12 passengers, a pilot and a flight attendant.

IT IS SEPTEMBER!!!! Most of us haven't even figured out our Halloween costume, let alone decided on which new stuffing recipe to make for Thanksgiving. What are you people trying to do here? Frankly, by stretching out the ho-ho holiday season for three full months, they're killing the Christmas spirit slowly with their song - killing it slowly with their song. The lyrics go like this: cha-ching.

Am I wrong?

Well, according to the dearly departed in Dyer, Indiana, I most certainly am:

When Ozella "Ozzie" McHargue was diagnosed with cancer, she said she wanted to celebrate Christmas one last time with her family before celebrating the rest with Jesus.

This week, she got the holly, jolly funeral the Dyer woman wanted.

The funeral home was decorated with holly, wreaths, mistletoe, poinsettias and a Christmas tree decorated with ornaments from friends and family. McHargue laid in a custom-made red and green casket at a funeral home in St. John, about 10 miles south of Gary.

McHargue first came up with the idea 17 months ago after being diagnosed with cancer. She said she didn't want depressing organ music at her funeral -- she wanted songs like "Silver Bells" and "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer."

I can see the "Six Feet Under" episode now...

Glitterati and Bling-Bling

Braving the torrential downpour last night, I decided to don my glam best (including my cute new powder blue leather jacket) and hit the Julian Schnabel sculpture opening at C&M Arts temporary outpost in West Chelsea. Was I there for the art? Heck, no! And, looking at the crowd, I don't think I was alone.

This wasn't an art show, folks. It was a people show. Schnabel's exhibit was simply an excuse for the celebrated and celebratory to congregate with flutes of champagne in their hands.

The usual cast of characters were there: the guy who likes to inappropriately fondle the art, to see if he'll get caught; the guy who desperately craves attention and thinks that he can give off an uber-hip mystique by wearing a ridiculous rice paddie China-man hat; the full-lipped babe wearing a patent leather jacket, giving everyone - male, female and in-between - a piercing glance that all at once says "You want me. You can't afford me."; mature collectors with bulging wallets and well-heeled skinny wenches on their arms, etc.

Oh, yes - almost forgot - joining us was Sean Penn, Lou Reed, Philip Seymour Hoffman, Jessica Lange, Christopher Walken, P. Diddy and the Olsen Twins (unbelievably short gals - could they be Munchkins?).

Same old scene.

Thankfully there was a decent supply of the bubbly to really keep us entertained. But, you know how it is - a few flutes into the stuff and you really need a cocktail to keep the buzz on track. Alas, no bar to be found in the gallery space. Discussing the conundrum with a dapper fellow, I couldn't help but notice that his bling-bling out blinged P. Diddy himself. I was particularly taken with a large ring on his right hand that featured a sizable orange-red gemstone (picture above). He grinned when I asked about it and admitted that he had the ring designed to match his usual cocktail - a Maker's Mark Manhattan.

How come I never thought of that? Matching your fashion statements to your imbibing statements - cocktailian couture! I predict that with all of the hooplah surrounding "bar chefs" and the rebirth of the cocktail culture, that drink-inspired design will be the next big thing.

Forget the glitterati. In the end art won out after all - the art of "the pour."

The Gentleman Will Have...

For all of you male readers out there, don't say I never did anything for you - that I'm an uncaring vixen, or vamp as it were...Fresh from today's NYT Science Times:

Men who drink red wine regularly appear to have a reduced risk of prostate cancer, a new study reports.

The study, which appears online in The International Journal of Cancer, found that a glass of wine a day appeared to cut the risk of the cancer in half...

You're welcome. Oh, and gents: You can also thank me later for featuring a photo of red wine in this posting, rather than an image of a prostate.

Let The Sin Begin...

I made it. 24-hours without food or drink - and I live to tell the tale. More importantly, I lived to participate in my break-the-fast, smoked fish-athon celebration Saturday night.

The groaning board (and I do mean pleasurable groaning) consisted of:

*A selection of plump, chewy bagels

*Three creamed cheese spreads - plain, veggie & chive

*A whole side of glistening, sliced, pink smoked salmon

*Sliced smoked sable

*Smoked trout

*Herbed, smoked mackeral

*Kippered salmon

*Two golden-skinned, baby chubs

*Whitefish salad

*Thinly sliced muenster cheese

*Kalamata olives

*Sliced plum and green zebra tomatoes

*Homemade dilled cucumber salad

*Rugelach cookies

And, then there was the dish that everyone really showed up for: the noodle kugel. Rich, sweet, cheesy, flecked with the tart intensity of dried apricots and offset by a buttery crunchy topping, it was a sight to behold. And, it goes without saying that we didn't just "behold" the two beauties that I whipped up.

I may have spent the last 24 hours atoning for my sins, but one bite into this Judaic, artery-clogging marvel and I was well on the road for another year of decadence. Luckily, my friends - Jewish and otherwise - were more than happy to help pave the way.

The food didn't know what hit it. Seconds were consumed. Then thirds. Then, goodness help us, fourths.

Wine was consumed. Much wine. Lots o' wine.

Music was played. Much music. Lots o' music.

Candles were lit. We were lit.

Dancing in the kitchen commenced.

The party didn't die down until 1:30am.

Thinking that I might need to pull a 48-hour fast next Yom Kippur to make up for the year's misdeeds. But, if Saturday night is any indication, I have a sneaking feeling that it'll be worth it...

Atonement

Sunset today will mark the beginning of the Jewish holy day of Yom Kippur (pronounced "y-oh-m ki-poor" for those on the Upper East Side and "y-ah-m kip-er" for the rest of us). The holiday will conclude sunset tomorrow and, in between those glorious sunsets, the members of my tribe will contemplate their sins over the past year, and set about to atone for those misdeeds.

It's sort of a one-day, annual, blow-out sale on pentinence. And, instead of counting rosary beads, we Jews pay big-time: a 24-hour full-on fast.

Yes, it's true. The Vamp will be going without food or drink for a full 24-hour period.

Of course, I'll be making up for it in spades Saturday night, when I will have a gaggle of friends over to my apartment for my yearly smoked fish-athon.

I'm earning my bagel and lox, baby. Warning to my guests: No cutting in line in front of a Jew at the buffet. It could get ugly.

My Reward

I recently received a promotion at work. A wonderful thing. No? And, what have I decided to do to mark the achievement - and, more importantly, the raise?

Go on a trip? Take myself out for a meal at Ducasse? Buy a pair of Manolos?

No. No. And, no.

In true blue VittlesVamp fashion, what I want to do is do away with my true blue dishwashing gloves and purchase a dishwasher.

I'm consulting Consumer Reports, lest I make a poor choice, and scan the Internet, lest I don't get the best price. But, if any of you have advice to offer in terms of make or model, by all means shout out.

Am I sick that this is the sort of purchase I get excited about?

Wait - Don't answer that.

Milk - The New Coca-Cola?

You can't go a week lately without coming across some sort of news item kvetching about obesity, targeting fast food and sugary soft drinks as the evil culprits behind America's girth.

Well, it looks like the tide might be turning. According to today's Wall Street Journal, old-fashioned, calcium-rich milk is gaining in popularity at the nation's fast-food franchises:

In a mystery set at McDonald's and Wendy's restaurants, an outpouring of customers suddenly want more milk.

The fluid phenomenon is producing perhaps the most dramatic sales increase for any non-discounted item in fast-food history. At Wendy's International Inc., milk sales since July have risen 15-fold -- to more than a million units a week up from 65,000. At McDonald's Corp., milk sales since May have doubled.

For an industry that celebrates single-digit growth, these triple-digit-and-higher jumps seem almost miraculous. They're especially notable given that milk sales overall have been declining since the 1960s, and that Wendy's and McDonald's have offered milk for decades. Neither chain is discounting the beverage, or offering it for free. Indeed, in order for the current fast-food price of milk to be considered a bargain, grocery store milk prices would have to hit about $15 a gallon.

And, who woulda thunk that all it took was a little clever packaging to get fast-food lovers - kids especially - to say "Got Milk?":

The importance of plastic containers became clear about three years ago when Dairy Management Inc., a Rosemont, Ill., trade group representing the nation's dairy farmers, conducted a one-year study with the American School Foodservice Association. The findings from more than 100,000 elementary and secondary school students': kids consumed more milk when it was offered in plastic, single-serve containers, in different flavors and at colder temperatures.

The industry took those findings first to Wendy's, the nation's third-largest burger chain, then McDonald's, the world's largest restaurant chain. Both companies enlisted DMI's help in shaping their milk strategies.

Susie Golub of Chicago raves about the new easy-to-open milk jugs at McDonald's, saying the packaging has made milk more attractive to her 5-year-old son and 2-year-old daughter. She believes this will help her keep alive a streak of which she is proud - her boy never has had soda. "It's a slippery slope, once you let them have it," says Ms. Golub, who orders Happy Meals a couple times a week.

Hmmm. Wonder if I should begin investing in a dairy farm...Or, better yet, a plastic container factory...

Cuckoo for Couscous

Looks like the well-loved grain is being celebrated in all its glory, today through Sunday in Sicily at the 7th Annual Couscous Fest. The foodie folks from Slow Food describe the festivities as such:

From September 21st to 26th, the streets of San Vito Lo Capo in Sicily will be thronged with visitors to the 7th Couscous Fest. Taking part at this year's event, in which San Vito Lo Capo becomes the crossroads where couscous meets the world, will be Algeria, the Ivory Coast, Israel, Italy, Morocco, Palesatine, Senegal and Tunisia.

On the evening of September 22nd and 23rd, chefs from the competing countries will cook various types of couscous (meat, fish, vegetable etc) according to their own national recipes. The competition will be judged behind closed doors before an international panel of judges, chaired by Enzo Vizzari, editor of the L'Espresso guide series .

On the evening of September 24th, all the couscous dishes cooked during the competition in the previous days will be prepared once more for the public. At the end of the two competition days the winning country will be awarded 'Best Cous Cous 2004' by the judges.

The festival will also feature the best of Sicilian cuisine, theme evenings, talks by connoisseurs and nutritionists, and food workshops. Ethnic music will also be showcased in the Cous Cous Live Music show.

I don't know about you - but, after reading that, dang, if a fancy for couscous doesn't sound like ample reason for a six day party! Anyone feel like forking over an all-expense-paid ticket to Sicily?

Alta's Vista

You didn't think I would let an event like VittlesVamp's first anniversary come and go without a proper celebration, did you? And, what kind of celebration would it be without food, drink and merriment - and good company.

Luckily, my friends Jenn and Pam were able to provide the good company. The amiable folks at Alta, a charming West Village spot, provided the food and drink. And, the combination of the three made merriment a natural conclusion.

Mother Nature wasn't in a merriment frame of mind, however. With the monsoon that was coming down outside, Alta had a tough crowd last Friday night - one desperately in need of warmth, hospitality and comfort. To think - I'm a tough customer under the best conditions.

I took the few soaking wet steps down to the restaurant's doors, and opened them quickly to escape the rain. At the very least, even if the restaurant was lousy, I'd get dry.

The "very least" wasn't what I got. I shook off my sopping wet shoulders, looked up and I was immediately enveloped in what appeared to be a European hideaway, complete with exposed stone and brick, a sea of wooden tables and a soaring, cathedral ceiling in the main dining room, aglow in soft, amber light thrown off by rustic chandeliers. It was enchanting.

The long bar that line the entrance hall beckoned (picture above). I took a seat and began to study the wine list before my posse arrived. France, Italy and Spain were well-represented, in keeping with the range of French, Italian and Spanish-influenced dishes on the menu.

Once Jenn and Pam joined, it didn't take us long to settle on a bottle to split among the three of us, a well-rounded, dark cherry Erta, Renzo Masi, Cab-Sangiovese 2000. Food, was a bit more difficult. Everything sounded marvelous. We finally asked the manager for a bit of direction and ended up with a lusty Smoked Eggplant and Lebne dip, with Za

VittlesVamp Turns One!

Two title exclamation points in one week. As if that isn't enough to crow about - how about one full year of vamping on this here site? Yes, VittlesVamp's first year anniversary is today.

Suddenly a wave of memories are flashing before my eyes...Memories. Like the corners of my mind. Misty, watercolored memories....

*My very first posting - about frozen yogurt that actually tastes like yogurt, found at the Upper West Side's Cafe Lalo

*My very first photo - aptly of Robin Leach presiding over a gourmet truffle auction as a Vegas showgirl cradles a massive white truffle in her hot little hands

*The spicy Austrian Thankgiving dinner that I shared with my mother

*My encounter with Satan, who came to me and my friends in the form of a bread basket.

*The chair-fondling waitress at Spice Market

*My culinary explorations of San Francisco and New Orleans

*Fine dining in the West Village, drinking beer with dogs in Queens, drinking fermented brown bread soda with the archaeologically-inclined in Brooklyn, and cleaning my home with Barf

*There were also a few dinner parties...and then a few more...and then there was Orgasma Dinner...

And, by no means am I done...So, for all of you VittlesVamp fans whom I've never met - Dr. Biggles in particular - I've arranged for a special anniversary portrait of the Vamp, so you can finally see the lady behind the legend. Without further ado, here I am in all my glory...

I'm all that and a bag of chips, ain't I?