Gigi's at it again.

Sometimes, things in your life are going so well that you don't even have anything to make fun of yourself err I mean blog, about.

Life's been pretty awesome lately. The weather in New York has turned that perfect fall-crisp where a light leather jacket (my all time fave) and a cute sweater have you set from morning til night. It's cold enough out where you want to cozy up inside with hot tea and cider, but not so cold that you curse yourself for your choice of living in the Northeast, ah fall bliss.

I've had a few college visitors over the last few weeks, another one this weekend and one in a few weeks. It's so nice to catch up with friends, show them my city and reminisce on times when class and homework assignments actually mattered #workinglifeisthebest.

All is quiet on the homefront- oh except the radiators. In New York, unlike many other civilized cities across the continental US, in most apartment buildings tenants have no control over the heat. When the temperature drops below 50, the boiler revs up and heat begins pumping from the creatures in the walls- also known as radiators. Often times these creatures are not in good condition and result in clinking, clanking, screeching, steam pouring and banging- all in the name of a little heat. We had quite the experience with our radiators in the old apartment, so why should this one be any different? We were hopeful- but unfortunately, out of luck. When these bad boys turned on for the first time last weekend we got the whole 9 yards, steam, screeching, banging, clanging and most of all insane temperatures that we were unable to lower. We immediately placed a call to our landlord, then the management company and finally to a plumber who we scheduled to come this morning between 8:30-9. You all know how this story ends, "we'll be there in 15 minutes" and then 15 minutes turns into 30, 30 turns into 45 and before you know it you're offering the plumbers lunch (only kidding). Around 11:15 they finally showed up only to inform us that all of our radiators are leaking (we have 5- what are the odds) and they all need to be replaced at the low cost of $575.03 if we wanted to have them running. Yea, I'll get right on that. In the name of bank account preservation we opted to shut all off but one, and hope that fuzzy socks come back in style. Down parka, party of one.

So, you all remember that guy I told you about a few months ago? The one I went out of my comfort zone for and then swore up and down was the worst decision I'd ever made. Well folks, he's back, and this time- in a big way. I can't exactly trace the evolution of this development but basically it went a little something like this: blog was posted, he was flattered, I was sad, I didn't give a shit, guy started to give a shit, we started talking, we became friends, we started hanging out as friends, then we started hanging out as friendsandmaybemore, then as definitely more but shhh let's not acknowledge it, then we were basically dating but wouldn't admit we were dating, and finally we admitted it and now we're actually, truthfully,  totally, legitimately dating. Like aww you're my boyfriend and I'm your girlfriend, let's meet each others parents, make holiday plans and miss each other when we're not together- dating. Talk about a 180. Who knows how this happened, my friends say it was unexpected, he says it wasn't unexpected, I say I have no idea what it was but I'm the luckiest girl in New York.

For all the bashing I did in my last post, I will do double if not triple the praising in this one. This guy has truly swept me off my feet. Not in the "oh lets go for a carriage ride in the park" sense (ew) but in a way that's so much better. He's everything I thought never existed and makes me feel the way people tell you you'll never get to feel. He's funny, kind, smart, caring, beyond cute and best of all? He's crazy about me (but don't tell him I told you, he likes to play coy). We're both the opposite of what we ever thought we'd date (probably better, right?) and I have to pinch myself everyday to make sure it's real- I can assure you, it is. He's my best friend and he brings out the best in me (my dad even told him that the first time they met, uh dad, hello- way to play it close to the vest!). He challenges me in ways I never knew possible and his silliness is one of a kind (if asked I'd swear it annoys me, but it secretly makes me happy). Who knew a few short weeks ago where this journey would lead- I certainly didnt- but maybe that's the best part!

Surprised? Me too. Think I'm joking? I'm not. Wish you were me? Don't. Ok maybe you can, but just this once.


P.S. For those of you wondering about the Gigi reference- think "He's Just Not That Into You". Boyfriend (ahh it's still so weird to use that word) has called me Gigi since basically our first date since i'm so-over-the-top-emotional and won't-settle-for-less, pshh whatever Gigi is the best.

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45 Avondale Road

Shana tova my jewish friends, and non jewish friends who think being jewish is so cool that they want to be jewish but only for the first jewish holiday until we have to fast and eat things that look like fish guts but are really called whitefish, SHANA TOVA all.

The Jewish holidays kicked off the same way they always do in my house, with a lot of cooking, a lot of eating, a table falling down, wine spilling, dogs barking, early exits, people laughing, others crying all the while saying CAN'T WAIT FOR NEXT YEAR, yea me neither- remind me to remember this then.

Each year the Lewis-Gartner high holidays follow the same routine. Erev Rosh Hashanah dinner is at my house, lunch the next day is at my grandmas, just us, where we sit around talking about how it used to be more than just us but then everyone died...oh by the way, happy new year.

Yom Kippur is similar with "the last supper" taking place at my house and the break fast at my grandmas. My older sister sleeps over and in the morning we all hungrily (although we're not really hungry yet we just think we are because we can't eat) get dressed and head to temple, counterfeit tickets in hand (long story for another day but in short, go mom!). Then around 3pm the "kids" go to my grandmas and make the deviled eggs for break fast. Every year my grandma forgets that I can't stand deviled eggs- not even to be in the same room as them, let alone MAKE them- and every year we have the argument that i'm not being a "joiner", every year I cave and go there only to be so repelled by the eggs that I have to leave the room, and every year she looks at me sadly and remembers I hate them...like I said, every year.

The break fast kicks off around 6pm when people start arriving, but my mom and I force everyone to wait until the 3 stars have been seen in the sky before we can eat- we're diehards deal with it- and then twinkle twinkle, it's over. Just as quickly as it began, we're eating again, quickly forgetting what we were fasting to remember and throwing our manners to the wind. No- talking with your mouthful of bagel is not in fact the proper way to ask cousin it to pass the cream cheese. Been there, done that. A few hours, a couple pounds of fish guts and a slab of rainbow cookies later, everyone says good bye, spilling out the front door into the crisp fall air, eager to get home and put on their pajamas.

When I was a kid, it was always a given that the next year, the same round of traditions would unfold. We'd always eat bagels and cream cheese by my grandma's fireplace and play dress up in the attic. We'd always take off our tights and run barefoot, relieved to be free of the MOST uncomfortable piece of the high-holiday getup. There'd always be another holiday, another dinner, another rosh hashanah lunch with just us with the theme of everyone's dead, and always another break fast. But this year, is different. This year we gathered for rosh hashanah lunch just us for the last time, and next week will mark the last year I get to get into an argument with my grandma over deviled eggs. It will be the last year we pull into their driveway, proud that we get front row parking because we're essentially residents by extension. It will be the last year I feel the plush carpet under my toes as I slip off my heels (no more stockings, I ditched those the year I was allowed to pick out my own outfit). The last year the black and white tiles fly by as we carry trays of goodies into the den. The last year the cousins hide out in the red room. The last year we hear the creak of the attic stairs and feel the cold metal tips beneath our feet. The last year we hear the click of the bar cabinets as they spring open and the last year we break the fast in the place we have done so for the last twenty five years.

This past week after Rosh hashanah lunch, post the "everyone's dead" conversation, we went through all of my grandparents things labeling them "tag sale", "bunny to keep", "sari" "dori  "diane" "june" "aaron" etc. In just a few short weeks my grandparents are selling their house. They are moving out of the home they have lived in for 59 years and while it's an important step for them, it's incredibly sad. As I pointed out to my mom, they are not only selling their own memories now, but ours too, and with it, all of the potential for future memories.  All of the "next years" and "remember whens" are somehow being packed into boxes. We've all tried to be strong as this process has unfolded but I think each of us has broken down at one point or another. How do you say good bye to a place that has meant more to you than even your own home, or bottle a sound, a smell or a feeling that literally tells a thousand stories. How do you explain what a house, a mere four walls, has meant to you over a lifetime or figure out what holidays look like without it. Even as I sit here writing this post, tears roll down my cheeks (yes i'm at work, maybe it's awkward) as I try to comprehend the finality with which Wednesday night's break fast will bring.

My grandparents house has always been my grandparents house. My mom moved there when she was two and I spent countless amounts of time there throughout my life. Even now, I walk there, run there, drive there almost weekly. I know where everything is, what every room was, what every room means, whose beds are and were whose, when furniture was bought and who the original owners were. I know who fell where (and when) who broke what (and why) and more importantly I've always felt it would always be there-.

The days between rosh hashanah are the days of introspection- 10 days that are supposed to be spent reflecting. This year, I sure do know what i'll be thinking about.

Shana tova everyone and gmar chatima tova (have an easy fast)

Dad and I at the dining room table at 45 Avondale, a long time ago

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Are you there g-d? It's me Gigi

My oh my, where does the time go. One day you're waking up and packing your bags for a mid-August vacation, next thing you know it's labor day weekend and all signs of your perfect summer romance have flown out the window just as quickly as they blew in. Solution: time to close the windows.

I'm sure you want to know more, who wouldn't with a lead in like that. In essence- curiosity killed the cat.

After nearly three years of dating in New York (that might not seem like a lot to you novices out there or to you readers who are neatly coupled-up, but trust me, if you've done it, you know it is) I decided to step outside my comfort zone; to ignore my "type", disregard warnings and throw caution to the wind. I decided to "go with the flow", to date someone I knew was emotionally unavailable and try my hand at casual (hint: casual does not include planning, a serious problem for a planner like me- I love planning- so sue me, I like looking forward to things).

Why I thought this diversion was a good idea after my last relationship in which I was strung along more creatively than colored macaroni on a pre-schoolers necklace, is beyond me. But hey- in the throes of the July heat- it seemed like a good idea. Ultimately, my curiosity was quelled; I came, I saw, I [failed to] conquer (the predicted outcome when playing with fire) and after almost two months of fun, we came to the ever elusive dating line in the sand. The [dreaded] crossroads where you must decide: break down the emotional walls and let the other person in or call it quits. Moral of the story, he turned and ran faster than a tourist realizing Times Square is in the opposite direction of Central Park West (about- face!).

While it was an interesting summer, and a very bold dating move for those of you who know me, I take comfort in the fact that after 25 years I know myself. I know what I want, what I need, what I will put up with and what I won't. I'm not sad, but rather reinvigorated to know that I don't have to settle. In previous relationships I've analyzed what I've done wrong, how I could have salvaged things, how I could have changed things or been better- I've taken the position that it didn't work out because I did something wrong instead of considering that maybe we just wanted different things.

I'm a passionate person, that's who I am and I'm looking for the real deal- someone whose going to be there on the best days, and the worst days. I often criticize myself for being me, for wearing my emotions on my sleeve and for (gasp) asking for what I want, because of the reactions I get, or the typical outcome (splitsville).  But, in looking back on this experience- I know there was nothing to be done and nothing for me to apologize for. When I entered into this I knew I was taking a gamble, and unfortunately that gamble played out the way most gambles do- in favor of the house- but at least I played the game, and one of these days I'm gonna win the jackpot.

Every experience takes you somewhere new and teaches you things about yourself you didn't know before, so I try not to regret anything (it's hard, trust me, I know). I can't say that each of these romantic letdowns is easy, that would be lying, or that they make me feel great about myself, but they each teach me something new and I am better, stronger and more self-assured because of them.

I'm lucky to live in an amazing city where figuring this stuff out is the norm- and I feel even luckier to have the incredible people around me who help me through each test. My friends, family and coworkers (they get it the worst) encourage me, listen to me, and support me, no matter how many times I trip, or stub my toe. As we head into the Fall, it's a good thing I've got a fresh pack of band-aids ready to go and a team of experts standing behind me.

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Vacation...it's good for the soul

Well- this morning was back to the city, back to work and back to reality. After 9 days away from the big apple, the consistency of routine was calling my name.

Last Friday I packed my [perfectly perfect] Herve' weekender and headed to the suburbs. With Summer dwindling right before our eyes, I knew I had to act fast: take vacation days now or forever hold your peace.  I opted for the former.

Perfect Beach Day

While I was home I did a whole lot of relaxing. I read six books (yes six!), knocked a few classically summer items off my bucket list, spent time with family, went to the beach, enjoyed leisurely evening runs, hung out with my favorite 8 month old, and ate my weight in watermelon.

Serious Saturday night cuteness

So, what did I read you ask? A few nondescript, totally mindless beach reads by Barbara Freethy (Summer Secrets, Just a Wish Away and All She Ever Wanted), the new Emily Giffin Novel Where We Belong, a page turning West Point book about female cadets Battle Dress (my fave for those of you who know my genre obsession) and an indecently succinct cousin to the 50 Shades of Grey trilogy titled Bared to You. Confession: I started Bared to You around 8pm last night, read well into the morning hours, and finished it today during my lunch break.  I'm looking forward to the second book which comes out mid-October, but reading snobs beware- it's no literary work of genius.

In addition to total book worm status, my Bucket List got some momentum this break as I was able to knock a few stunner's off the list.  Night swimming, the Annual Lewis family trip to Rye Playland, swimming in the ocean, and going for an evening run are now OH-ficially complete. I've got a few others planned in the coming weeks and hope that by the time the first leaves fall- I'll have the full list knocked out.

Dad and I enjoying the pool!

This past Saturday, I went over to my grandparents house for breakfast with my sister, cousin and cousin's fiance'. My grandparents just recently sold their house (cue the "oh my god's" and "are you serious'") and are getting ready to move in just under two months. They've lived at 45 Avondale for over 60 years, and it's been like a second home to me all my life. I grew up a mile away and saw their house as an extension of my own. I have my own bed, my own spot at all three tables, dents I've left on the floor, grill's I've fixed, pictures I've painted, closets I know better than my current apartment and smells that instantly take me back to being a kid. It's been a mix of happiness and sadness as they start to pack up. It's definitely time for them to move onto something smaller, and more manigible, but at the same time it's scary (and nearly impossible) to imagine anyone else living in their house; it's THEIR house. Alas- I digress.

As they get ready to move all of the kids and grandkids have spent time there, talking, sorting, discussing. We've been going through furniture, calling dibs on what we want, reminiscing about all of the memories we've made (more than we could ever count) and sorting through decades of "stuff". My grandma found pictures and documents that belonged to each of her children and grandchildren and created an envelope for each of us. She plans to bring everything down to their house in Florida, and make each of us a collage of everything she has from the time were babies, through college graduation. I  can't wait to see how it turns out. In the meantime, I couldn't help sneak a peak at the pictures and man, were there some gems in there. It's hard to imagine being a little version of myself but so much fun at the same time. Here's a little snippet of what baby Sari looked like- what a nugget.

Dad, quit with the looks, ok?

No shoes, no shirt, no problem!

My first day back to work was a nice reminder of the fact that I love my apartment, love my job and love the people I work with. While it's always nice to take time off to recharge- having a place you love coming back to, makes it that much better.

Happy Monday.

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Life, or Something Like It

I suddenly looked at the calendar the other day and realized we were nearly through July... how did that happen?! Summer is my favorite season by far, but August has always been bittersweet for me because while it's still warm, it reminds me that my favorite two months are behind us and won't be back for a long while.

Back in the college days, August always meant Bed Bath & Beyond, packing up, and leaving New York but now that I'm an "adult" (or so they tell me) August is less final, and more of a continuation of summer. Moral of the story- summer is flying by way too quickly and I'm going to do my darndest to embrace August & take full advantage of what's left of summer.

So, to that end I've put together a Summer 2012 Bucket List, and figured I'd share it with y'all with the hope that you'd keep me accountable. I've always wanted to make a bucket list but never have, and since this blog, and life these days, is all about firsts- I figured, no time like the present! So, now without further adieu, let's get listing:

• Take another trip to Fire Island
• Make s'mores in the outdoor fire pit
• Go night swimming
• Attend at least 2 Yankee games before the end of the season
• See fireworks one more time
• Go camping/sleep on the beach (this one might be tough..but I'll try)
• Have a beach bonfire (another long shot)
• Annual Lewis family trip to Rye Playland
• Swim in the ocean
• Eat chocolate italian ices, the real kind
• Catch fireflies (that used to be so fun)
• An evening run along the hudson
• Spend a day on the high line
• Eat at the Boat Basin Cafe
• Go kayaking on the hudson

I think that's a pretty good place to start, seeing as I have a full time job and all, and hope that I can get each of these things done- and maybe even add a few more classics to the mix! If anyone wants in on the above dreaminess...feel free to give a shout, I like company! I promise to let you all know as I accomplish these things and add new adventures to my repertoire.

On a more serious note- as many of you know, our baby puppy Lia had a bit of a health scare last week as she battled a bout of Parvo virus. The outpouring of love and support that we received, truly touched me and made me completely aware of how many friends we have, and can count on, in times of need. I'm happy to report that Lia has rebounded incredibly well with the help of a dedicated staff at the Cornell Veterinary Center and according to my parents- she's back to her old self. I'm heading home this weekend for some R&R in the "country" and can't wait to spend time with my favorite floppy eared gal. Pictures to come...I promise.

In other news- life in June and July has been pretty great. We're settled in our apartment and loving it more and more each day; Work is busy- in the best way possible with a crazy BlackRock project challenging even the most seasoned ad men; I sold my first ever Never Enough Icing cake, and from what I've been told, it was a big hit!; I'm dating a guy I actually really like (shocking, right?) and so far- it's going incredibly well; I've got some vacation time planned in the next few weeks and can't wait to kick back and enjoy the warm weather while it lasts. 

Updates to come on the Summer bucket list. Wish me luck.

Stay fly.

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There's No Place Like Home

The Summer is by far my favorite season. Warmer temperatures, cuter clothes, longer days, better food, no need for a jacket and endless weekend possibilities.

As an avid swimmer and self-proclaimed sun worshiper, the Summer is my happy place. Over the last few weeks I've been taking full advantage of my favorite season with a weekend trip to Fire Island, and most recently, a phenomenal overnight trip to Westchester with my PIC.

For those of you who know me, you know what Fire Island means to me. I grew up spending one full month each summer there, and whether I realized it or not, that place became a part of who I am. It's my happy place. The place I associate the best memories with and the place that captured the best part of my childhood. My sister and I spent days running barefoot through town, eating ice cream cones bigger than we were, swimming in the bay, catching fire flies, stubbing our toes, rolling in the sand, jumping from lifeguard stands, scratching bug bites, running with our dogs and showering outside. There really is no place like it.

The best place on earth

Hello relaxation

Now that I'm older and don't have the luxury of a month-long break from reality, I do what I can to spend as much time as possible on fire island each summer. Whether it be day trips, weekends or a share house- I've managed to get back there every summer for the last 4 years.

This summer I organized a weekend house with a group of friends and let me tell you- we had the BEST time. We relaxed, grilled delicious food, enjoyed homemade sangria, double scoop ice cream cones, runs through the sand, amazing sunsets, morning walks through town, bike rides at dusk and sleeping with the windows open- ocean breeze and all. It was extremely hard for all of us to pack up and head back to the concrete jungle, and then to work the following Monday, but it was great to get away for the weekend and to be reminded that such a magical place does exist not too far from home.

The whole house!

Best friends at the beach!

In the midst of crazy heat waves, family stresses and work deadlines, it was wonderful to have time away to remember what really makes me happy. I often get caught up (who doesn't?) in the daily grind  but a few days on fire island did my body good. If you haven't been there, I highly recommend you go. It's a place unlike any other I've been, where people are friendly, shoes are optional, everyone knows your name and a big night out means leaving the house for sunset at the dock.

Until next time Fair Harbor...

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Let them Eat Cake

To say it's been a busy few weeks would not even come close to describing the mania of my life. Between moving, trying to do as much baking as possible, traveling for the 4th of July and my moms birthday, work being beyond crazy...I've barely had time to sleep (not joking) let alone anything else.

Amidst all of the craziness though, some amazing cakes have gone out my doors and what better way to kick off thursday than to share them?!

First, there was my grandparents anniversary cake. A few weeks ago my grandparents celebrated 65 years of marriage. 65!!! We threw them a surprise party despite repeated protestation and in spite of the dragging feet...everyone had a blast. When we first started planning for the party, I knew I wanted to make a stand out cake. Something elegant but 'wow' that would also feed about 40 people. I began browsing Pinterest, my go to for inspiration, and my gosh did I find it. I took a few recipes and a few inspiration pieces from several sources and finally settled on a four-tier vanilla cake with white chocolate buttercream. Wait for it...with an Ombre' design and roses from top to bottom.

When I first showed my mom pictures of what I wanted to do, she was supportive but skeptical. I think she thought it would be tough and that if it didn't come out the way I wanted it to, I'd be upset (she knows me too well- I'm a baking perfectionist even if it means re-baking something several times, more on that in a bit). Despite some hesitation, I started on the cake a few days in advance with plans of freezing the layers until the day before the party at which point I'd frost and decorate it.

Armed with cake flour, sugar, a sifter and more butter than i'll admit we were ready to bake (my mom helped!!). In my constant pursuit of the perfect vanilla cake, I wanted to try a new recipe, one I'd found in my many hours of baking research. My mom discouraged me- telling me I should just use her simple, tried and true vanilla cake recipe (which I find too dense) but I refused. So,  we followed the new recipe to a T, meticulously colored each of the four layers a varying shade of purple, and popped them in the oven. Since we only have two 8" cake rounds we had to do the pan preparation and baking in two batches- two pans at a time. When the first two layers came out- something didn't look right. The cakes had fallen in the middle. We let them cool and tried baking the second batch- paying close attention to cooking time. Again, the same thing happened. Being the perfectionist that I am, I promptly threw away all four layers (after tasting them and being truly repulsed), blaming the failure on the new recipe, and told my mom the next time, we would use her recipe. The next morning we did the whole thing again, but this time with my mom's recipe, and whaddya know- the same thing happened. A few raised voices, and a google search later we discovered our baking powder was expired (who knew?!) and yep...had to start over. So, on the third attempt, we tried my new recipe again and voila, it worked. That was easy.

Fast forward the making of a few batches of white chocolate buttercream (heaven), stacking and filling the layers with raspberry jam, tinting three separate bowls of buttercream three unique shades of purple, crumb coating the cake and frosting it...we had a winner. A big time winner. Hands down the most beautiful, most perfectly executed cake I've ever made. To say it was easy would be lying, but the feeling of accomplishment and the amount of fun I had making it- couldn't be replaced.

The masterpiece

Cutting it open!

A full piece!

 

My family at the party with the cake!

Next there was an Independence day cake. Only a few short weeks after the anniversary cake, my mind started turning on what to make to celebrate the 4th of July. My parents hosted a block party at our house and I was in charge of dessert. I knew I wanted to make something festive for the holiday but also something lite since we'd be sitting outside. I opted for a three layer white fluffy vanilla cake from my baking idol, Sweetapolita, filled and frosted with a self-created whipped vanilla frosting (it's super airy & perfect for summer) with berries between each layer and around the borders. 

The cake went off without a hitch. It was easy to make, easy to tint, easy to layer and the frosting went on like a dream. Amazingly smooth and creamy, and perfectly white, something I often struggle with when working with butter-based frostings. The neighbors absolutely loved it and I'm happy to report that when I returned home a few days later...there was none left! These have definitely moved up the ranks on my list of go-to's.

Whipped vanilla frosting with a blueberry ring along the top and a raspberry-blackberry border.

The amazing red, white & blue layers came to life with the white frosting

So, that's what I've been up to for the last few weeks, in the baking world at least. Stay tuned for a fabulous cake currently in the works for my PIC's birthday and my first PAYING cake gig which I'm making for my roommates' boyfriends' company potluck. Exciting things are happening here! My life may be hectic and I may make cakes at 2 in the morning but baking is what I was born to do, and it feels really nice to know that.

Have a great weekend everyone- I'm off to fire island tomorrow for a few days of beach, sand, sun and relaxation...hello Summer!

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