Cleveland Fragrance Examiner- YSL's Paris

From today's Cleveland Fragrance Examiner:

"There are some fragrances that I always love, regardless of how many different variations of it appear over the years. Yves St. Laurent's fairly irrepressible scent "Paris" is one of them! For some reason, this is the perfume that I travel with the most frequently, maybe it's simply a matter of the power of suggestion, I mean come on, who couldn't resist a perfume named after the "City of Lights"! Yet I think that it's more than that. Paris is a very appropriate fragrance for a lot of different occasions, whether it  be a wedding or an afternoon tea, or even a casual morning shopping in Manhattan with your sweetie. It's a fragrance that works equally well with denim or taffeta and I've definitely worn it with both. " 

Please enjoy the rest of the review at : 

http://www.examiner.com/x-5804-Cleveland-Fragrance-Examiner~y2009m5d29-Yves-St-Laurent--Paris

You're never too old......

Last year on the 25th of July ,  my mother had a terrible stroke. She didn't linger long,  which was a blessing for us all, she wasn't on life support and she  flew gaily out of her body 6 days later.  She and my father had been married for over 66 years, had 3 children together, traveled the world, created an incredible business and cherished each other with a  type of grand passion that rivaled any that  Liz Taylor and Richard Burton had ever known. When she was hospitalized 10 years ago for bypass surgery he never left her side and when he became ill over the last 5 years she spent all of that time taking care of him herself, refusing to let us do anything for them. 

My mother was a fabulous cook and known for her dinner parties. I think that was one of the reasons that he adored her. She brought to him the life that he'd always wanted, but had never known how to create for himself.   She was the  always the heart of the ball, the life of the party and her fete's were lavish yet incredibly comfortable. Dinners at their home were always beautiful, she arranged her own flowers and set the table with the gorgeous dishes and sterling silver that had been passed down to her from her great grandmother. She always served things like poached salmon with dill sauce, Scalloped oysters and sweetbreads.Her beef tenderloin was legendary and by the same token, so were her stuffed peppers. My son has informed me that no matter what I do, my mashed potatoes will never be as wonderful as hers. This is probably true because for every 4 or 5 large potatoes used she would cream in a stick of butter. I kid you not and that doesn't even include the sour cream. They were truly delicious! Walking into her house for dinner we  were always greeted by the most amazing fragrances. She truly loved her home and all that were invited to it were treated like family. 

My mother also was the person who introduced me to raw oysters and camembert, Dover sole and  taught me everything that I know about throwing a fabulous party.  We weren't allowed paper napkins and we had to use fine crystal. She believed as do I that using these beautiful things were THE classic act of recycling. Never once did I sit down to dinner at her table where there weren't candles and wine. She loved the theatre of serving first courses and had dozens of recipes for them. I inherited her Coquille St Jacques dishes...darling little porcelain scallop shells for that delectably creamy appetizer of  broiled scallops, cheese and wine. She also served  crab bisque and other soups in her gorgeous collection of demitasse cups. While she was the gourmet cook, my father relished his role as gentleman of the house and he was proud of her. It was fun to watch them and a wonderful example to have growing up in a world where so much is disposable.   

As my fathers condition worsened over over the years and he suffered year after year of mysterious illness we had to hospitalize him often. She would never go to see  him without dressing exquisitely , putting on her lipstick, pearls and perfume.  My dad called her his absolute dream wife and when she died, we worried endlessly about what would happen to him because we discovered very quickly that she had in her usual fashion been covering up for him.

Because dad requires 24/7 care , it was apparent that he wouldn't be able to stay in his home a sad decision but one that needed to be made. We chose a place for him that is right around the corner from me and the adjustment period has been hard  because although it's lovely,  it's nothing like his home and the food is horrible. I filled his room with beautiful things from their home and I sneak treats in there all of the time but he hasn't been very interested. We do have quite a good time though making fun of the Orthodox Rabbi's who patrol the place in search of bacon!

We have a lovely art therapist for dad who comes once a week to paint with him and fortunately there's a lovely young woman named Charlotte who sees my father all of the time and takes him out for coffee , ice cream and the occasional corned beef sandwich .  He hasn't had much of an appetite, he's been so sad, so the time that he spends with her is so wonderful for him. The other day I noticed that he was looking better, a bit more robust than he'd been. I asked him about it and he just smiled and said that he'd met someone and that he was thrilled to be back at work doing open heart surgery and saving lives. 

His nurse told me that he'd started to eat and that he was finally making some friends.  I guess that Springtime works it's magic on the best of us because I got a hilarious text from Charlotte telling me that he'd told her that he couldn't stop looking at her breasts and that he wanted to snuggle up between them. I almost died laughing because Charlotte is a wonderful gay woman with a committed partner. Dad of course doesn't know this and she refuses to tell him. Charlotte is the reason that I actually believe in angels. My father now lives in a beautiful world of his own design and I love playing in it with him. At 90 years young, I think that he deserves it. 

Last night for the holiday he came over for dinner and it was wonderful. I served all of his favorites,  barbecued chipotle rubbed chicken, asparagus with chopped egg and vinaigrette in the French style, homemade guacamole and chips,  fresh corn on the cob rubbed with butter, salt,pepper and herbs, a gruyere, onion and ham tarte' and of course the requisite platter of fine cheeses with fresh fruit and crackers.  My friend Brenda brought a beautiful trifle, which we all knew that he'd love!

He sat in my living room talking with my friends and enjoying a glass of ale. He loved their company and fortunately for me they love his , so including him in the conversation is never difficult. He ate at least a pound of cheese on his own with an absolutely rapturous look on his face, enjoying the creamy brie, savoring the saltiness of the roquefort and devouring the Cotswald with equal abandon. He enjoyed an ear of corn but then went back to the cheese forgoing all else for his beloved camembert and pears!

Shortly afterwards he announced to everyone that it had been a pleasure and that it was time for him to go home. I took him back to his room and instead of the normal tears he thanked me  and told me what a  wonderful time he'd had.  He made me promise to call him when I got home and then he shut his eyes happily and fell asleep.  Walking out of there I realized that it had been worth it, all of it and that he had finally moved on. What I realized, was that there was no way to lesson his pain and that he'd had to go through it himself and in his own time.   Yesterday I learned the greatest lesson that I've learned from him yet and that is that life can go on happily and lustily!

Truly, my heart is full......

 

  

TokyoMilk - Honey and the Moon

 Every now and then , I find a  fragrance that delights me and makes me feel so chic and trendy that I can't possibly resist it. TokyoMilk Parfumerie's "Honey and the Moon  is such a scent!  I had never heard of TokyoMilk, but when I walked into Anthropologie yesterday I was greeted by a beautiful display of their products, lovely fragrances, pretty soaps and lip balms that are sweet  and yummy enough to make you want to turn and kiss the nearest adorable man!  TokyoMilk perfumes make me want to grab my passport and  the next flight to Paris, with nothing but my wonderful husband, a DVF wrap dress  and some La Perla lingerie!

The bottles for the  TokyoMilk perfumes are wonderful, simple glass with vintage pictures on one side and a sleek brown label on the other. The names of their perfumes are   enchanting and take you swiftly into what we marketing types call  "absolute vulnerability!" ,  that land where your imagination is so instantly transported that one push in the right direction is more than enough to make you reach for your purse. What intellectual wouldn't fall for a fragrance called "Poe's Tobacco", which true Bohemian wouldn't dream of a fragrance called "Lapsang su Chong". Could anyone with a case of Paris lust as severe as mine possibly resist anything called, "Let them eat cake", whose notes are sugar cane, coconut milk,vanilla orchids and white musk? I think not.

This aspiring Shakespearean wouldn't dream of passing up a fragrance called "Honey and the Moon" !   "Honey and the Moon" is a lovely and very original confection, coated with notes of sweet Honey, sugared violet, jasmine and sandalwood and one spray took me instantly to High Tea at the Dorchester Hotel in London, probably because this was the first place ever that I experienced the sublime sexy joy that is a candied violet.

Oh, I'll never forget that first violet! My mother and I always made it a habit to have tea every afternoon wherever we traveled and that particular afternoon I was presented with a lovely little tart that had a pastry creme scented with orange flower water  and a crust lined with dark chocolate. Perched on top was a delectable little purple flower and I thought that it must be made of sugar. My mother laughed as I took my first bite and I was  delighted to discover that it was indeed a real violet! It was an amazing thought to wrap my very young mind around, that flowers could be candy and I've hunted for them ever since, even making my own on occasion although I must admit that the violets that my sister brings me back from Fauchon in Paris are my favorites, bested only by the fragrant Laduree macoron's that she lovingly carries  back by hand.  But that's another story!

At just 28.00 dollars for a one ounce bottle, Tokyo Milk fragrances are an affordable and flamboyant indulgence! And while I'm at it, here's my recipe for those candied violets. All of this talk of tea is making me ravenous.......

All you need are violets, beaten egg white thats not frothy, superfine sugar and a soft sable paint brush. This is the time of year to make them because you can find fresh violets everywhere you roam. Just make sure to harvest them from areas that you know haven't been touched with pesticides because you will not be rinsing them. Paths along the woods are usually the best!

Dip the brush into the egg and gently apply the egg white very lightly to the violet, covering the whole flower or petal. Don't use too much , only enough to allow the sugar to stick. Then turn the violet upside down and while holding it  over a plate , sprinkle with the superfine sugar to coat it evenly. Place them on a tray that you've line with parchment and allow them to completely dry. You can hasten the process a bit by putting the tray into a 150 degree oven with the door left ajar . They won't be around this long, but once they are completely dry you can store them for up to a year in an airtight jar. I've also done this with lavender buds and rose petals and this year I'm thinking about candying fresh nasturtium blossoms! Almost any small edible flower will  do. Whichever you choose, you'll find them to be addictive and delicious!

For more information about TokyoMilk Perfumes go to:       http://www.beautyhabit.com/tokyomilk.html 
 

Linked by the Sea.....

My mother's natural Blue Gray pearls were actually her mothers pearls and her grandmother's and great grandmothers before her. They are beautiful and longer than opera length, their three strands wrapped around my neck still lay gently beyond my breasts.  Even at their advanced age they are lustrous still and smell a bit like the essence of all of the women who have loved them. 

They are the most beautiful color, silvery blue like the sea before a storm and I've always wondered about the patience of the divers that found them. Because they are natural pearls and at least 120 years old there is a whole other lineage of women that I'm linked to through them, Free Divers who often risked their lives to obtain these coveted beauties. There was no other way to collect pearls before the 20th century and sometimes the divers had to go as deep as 40 to 125 feet into the sea and because of the extremely fickle nature of natural pearl growth, any pearls found were extremely rare. To harvest the pearls that I now wear, women that I've never met had to brave uncertain tides, dangerous creatures and possible hypothermia. More important even than the stories of these pearls are the untold stories that I will never know, but that I can feel. Women who had no other way to feed themselves became pearl divers and were probably paid what amounted to a pennies to fashionably adorn my my grandmothers. I cannot wear them ever without acknowledging their true cost. 

That being said....they are among the most sensuous things that I own, probably because of the natures of the women who wore them before me.  I don't know anything of my great grandmother's except that they wore these to the operas and ballets and fancy balls that they frequented. 

My grandmother who was dead before I was born but who I am said to most resemble wore them in a slightly different fashion. She was a painter, one of the original women in a famous New York City artists colony at the turn of the century, sensuous and very provocative, at least until she married my grandfather, a kind gentleman farmer who was probably a very settling influence. In this highly unorthodox and very worn sepia photograph there is a woman that I could recognize as myself wrapped naked in a bearskin rug and holding a long cigarette holder. She is draped in pearls.....my pearls. 

When she died, my mother inherited them and wore them often. She would always wear them draped against gray silk and satin, nestled against her very ample chest. When I miss her the most, I go to my jewelry box and put them on. They still smell of her and it's a wonderful fragrance, lighthearted and giddy like the woman that she was when she was having fun being herself, always the belle of the ball.

Someday, I will hopefully have a granddaughter of my own to give them to. I will savor that moment and pass them on with all of the stories. They say that pearls contain the essence of the souls of all who have worn them. In that case I am truly blessed. The women in my family were and are all wild and wonderful and the pearls seem to take on the very wild  nature of us all.  I remember my mother wearing them once when I accidentally walked into my fathers studio late at night....she was lying like a beautiful odalisque and he was painting her. It was quiet and the canvas shone like his adoration. I've never forgotten that moment and neither have the pearls. They share their stories with me andI'm busy creating my own stories with them and those will be for another time.....

The smell of love.........

I'll never forget when I first became intrigued by truffles. My husband and I were enjoying  a gorgeous meal at Cafe' Boulud in NYC and I ordered the roasted chicken with truffle sauce. As I ordered, the darling french waiter looked at my husband with a knowing eye and a wink..... When he brought my order he placed it in front of me with grand aplomb and handed my husband an extra sauce spoon. A sauce spoon is one of those strange and in my mind totally essential accoutrements for eating well. It is basically a completely flattened tablespoon fitted with a notch and used to recover every delicious bit of a sauce!

I stopped for a moment and surveyed my plate.....Gorgeous slices of lemony roasted chicken lay before me and the herbs that had been used, some thyme and a bit of sage were still clinging to the crispy , buttery skin. There were beautifully roasted potatoes and a simple haricots vert with a julienne of fennel and feathery dill,  proving to me once again that the French truly know what to do with a vegetable. All incredibly beautiful and lush, but  it was the sauce that brought me to my knees........

It was a simple sauce, made from pan juices, butter and a bit of  white burgundy. That alone would have been wonderful, but there were generous bits of black truffle laced all though the silkiness  and it was impossible to miss the unmistakable scent of lustiness that permeated the dish. I was completely captivated and so was my husband. Eating it became an  act of foreplay, slow and savoring sauce spoons clicking. Bread was used to sop up what the sauce spoons couldn't quite reach and at that moment I became  totally enslaved, it was impossible to resist.

The truffle is legendary for it's supposed ability to excite the appetites. There's  quite a simple reason reason for that...it smells just like the best kind of sex.  French black or Italian white , say what you will of their rarity and of the exoticness of having an ingredient that is hunted by pigs and dogs alike.  Yes , the concept is so very romantic...the image of a truffle hunter out in the woods searching for this fairly common looking bit of culinary treasure. We are simple creatures  and the truffle Goddess as well as the men and women that beg for the fruits of her loins understand our passions well. That is one of the reason that a truffle can and will cost you a small fortune. They're seasonal foods and for that reason alone  please avoid the cans of truffle juice and truffle peelings that you can find. I've never found any that lived up to my expectations and I truly believe that infusing them in  fine oil is the best method for extracting the purest, sexiest flavor.

Give in for it's completely worth it.  Fresh truffles  can be infused into oil and if you place one in a jar of arborio rice for a few days you will have a risotto fit for the Gods...... Get  a glass topped canister and a few fresh eggs and put the truffle in with eggs. Believe it or not the sensual aroma will permeate the shells and the scrambled eggs that you make will be divine. Just remember to cook them slowly, with lots of butter in a double boiler. This way the fine aroma will not be lost, the eggs will be creamy yet fully cooked and the little bits of the truffle that you've chopped and put into the eggs will be nothing short of ambrosial.

Since that first roasted chicken, I've spent a lot of time searching for truffle products, because I love them and my husband has an appetite for them that is never satisfied. You can get a wonderful truffled salt, truffle butters and many different kinds of pate's and infused oils. In the absence of a fresh truffle you can do what Isabel Allende suggests in  her fabulous book Aprodite. She was taught by her grocer to chop up several black olives very fine and rinse them to remove any traces of brine. Placed in bowl that you've added some very good truffle oil to the olives will begin to completely smell of truffles and you can use them in the same way.  Truffled mash potatoes are simply sublime..the ultimate in comfort food.

Which leaves me to one last thought.....a little bit of   truffle oil mixed with a bit of rich dark chocolate dabbed in all of the right places tends to leave my husband just a little bit breathless......

To learn more about the fabulous fungi:

http://www.trufflesinternational.com/

http://www.earthy.com/Fresh_Imported__Domestic_Truffles_C32.cfm