Where I continue to invade the privacy of people who used to work for me (and other worthy types)
Mme70 (02:03:03) :
Oh. My. God. I’m telling EVERYbody how you are my hero!
While images like this are interesting — and even beautiful — I love food too much to see it treated like an underfed supermodel, contorting for the camera.Then there is this other obvious plea for help:
And, of course, there's chocolate. After all, says Flickr user Samer Farha: "Chocolate sells. Maybe more than sex does."We hope blogger Amanda Hirsch decides to violate a basic tenet of journalism and reveal the secure and undisclosed location Samer is keeping his "models," like the poor, emaciated thing depicted above.
We complimented Samer on his rock-solid blog post about his 10-minute cake recipe experiments (featured on tastespotting.com, mind you!)
And then he goes and writes this:
"Do do do, da da da. That is all I have to say to you."
It was only 12 hours after election day, Mike writes on Facebook with some irony, that he was profiled in his own neighborhood while photographing "things that remind me how blessed I am."
Somebody called the cops on Mike -- and, for good measure, emailed them (very web 2.0 racists in North Carolina) -- to report a "suspicious black man" prowling around with a camera under the cover of the noon-day sun.
Before we knew the full story PeepsNet asked if Mike if had run afoul of a Charlotte, NC law about taking out the garbage while black.
taking photos of fall foliage while black, actually. That album called I GOT A GOOD LIFE, MAN? Somebody called the police on me while I was out in my neighborhood taking them. Then sent an email to the neighborhood crime watch saying be on the lookout for SUSPICIOUS BLACK MAN.
The collection of nature photographs in his lovely neighborhood does include a house or two that I suppose he could have been casing from what I'd estimate to be about Google Earth distances. And, of course cameras have been mistaken for lethal weapons -- in Iraq!
Mike is taking it in stride -- he is not quiet Mike for nothing. But he does note the surreality of it all.
It was just very ironic, mostly. I hadn't forgotten where I was, but at the same time, I thought I'd get a little longer to 'feel the joy.' Eh....s'all good, though. The experience actually made the photos more 'subversive' as my friend John says. They have another level of meaning for me now.We wonder why a truly subversive photographer of our acquaintance has never been wrestled to the ground by alert law enforcement officers. Oh, the injustice of it all.
Another party we weren't invited to. Fortunately iPeepsNet correspondent Samer was there to capture the action (and avoid picking up the check, we hope.)
We admit -- we've been very remiss. Maybe we were wrong to outsource our newsroom to Bangalore but with the extra coin we were able to rent this clown BoBo and really underestimated the creepiness.
Samer's excellent adventure was noted if not well recorded, an oversight we hope to rectify somewhat by advising our readers to check out, at the very least, his China collection.
Once you visit, of course, we predict you won't want to leave.
We know you are too busy so we've done some research on your behalf (we flatter ourselves that you are reading this. Maybe Samer will tell you about it) and found this incredibly thorough, perfectly-time article on NPR.Escaping into the wilderness doesn't have to mean leaving good food behind. A little preparation before hitting the trail makes dishes like penne pasta with vegetables a cinch.Boy, this girl really does know her trailmix. Witness:
Years of backpacking in various parts of the United States have taught me that while a box of organic macaroni and cheese is easy to prepare after a long day of lugging a heavy pack up and down mountains, it's not nearly as satisfying as quinoa chowder or fresh vegetables roasted over a fire.Our pack would contain 3 GPS units, a sat phone and Glock 19 -- you can get lots of food and even have it prepared and served to you with a Glock - but that's just us.
These days my pack is filled with a small container of olive oil, dried herbs, salt and pepper and fresh fruit rather than packets of dehydrated beans and rice or bags of quick-cooking oatmeal flavored with desiccated strawberries.
Samer tweets that he is through IAD security and has had a hearty breakfast "but I'll probably regret the mountain of cheese and bacon once airborne." So might you seat mates, mate.
The Boy Wonder will arrive in Tokyo tomorrow afternoon after a flight scheduled to take about 14 hours. His big regret seems to be that he won't be able to drink a caipirinha "for a good long time. My guess is I won't even be at a bar that has cachaça until at least Germany."
We'll be tracking his flight in real time at flightstats.com.
We're happy for the lad to have this dream assignment (engineer at the Bejing Olympics) and for his dexterity in creating a travel itinerary around it. But I have a dilemma. Who am I going to ask random questions at strange hours about astronomy, mechanical engineering, Apple shortcuts, unix programming and cookery? Well, as least I have a reliable source for that last one a much more manageable three time zones away.
Yes, sir, Mr. Farha sir.
Occasionally, very accurate. Wonder who he was thinking of during those shots ...
That meat blog thing was sort of OK, I guess, but we asked for it (two years ago) and now we have it:
Samer is blogging for real again.
The reason? Boy Wonder is about to embark on a trip of 23,501 miles that begins with one step. Work beckons him to the Beijing Olympic Games and he's making about 47 pre-, post and side trips.
The itinerary:
And Samer has procured exactly what a young, single man passing through so many port of call needs ....
A telephoto lens. What did you think?
Wondering what the comments would be like if Samer had switched captions on these two recent shots.
She likes feta, but it wasn't always thus.
Nicole has classed it up again for another piece at NPR in which she confesses that she was not always a fan of the cheese of her homeland. Apparently there was some kind of unfortunate childhood event which scarred her but not for life, because some years later when faced with starvation or stinky cheese the latter won out with minimal hysteria. Hey Nicole -- she likes it!
PeepsNet can relate. For us, consternation took the form of the black, wrinkly olives of our homeland. Not that we ever liked those bland California varieties one buys in -- yuck -- cans. But green was our valley, and pitted, and perhaps stuffed with garlic or bleu cheese. This, of course, reduced green olives to garlic or blue cheese delivery systems, which obscured the underlying flavor. And, it must be said, those little green guys with pimento that so perfectly augment the martini experience are an entirely different subject.
But we digress. It was not until late in life that I appreciated the Kalamata the way Nicole came to accept feta. And, as I recall, it was in circumstances somewhat beyond my control, as with Nicole, that I was confronted with the dilemma slash opportunity to re-evaluate a childhood aversion to a food so easily made friends with.
Hmmm ... this has veered twice now from the subject at hand.
Nicole's excellent tale of self discovery is here. Don't forget to listen to the podcast (WE think she was extremely well prepared).
Kids: this is why you don't want a career in journalism. Stay in school, just say 'no' to drugs, skip the cigarettes or break the habit clean.
Wait, that's what I did ... OK -- you're on your own.
Miss Katy was in town, and we were unable to attend, sadly. Besides the fun of seeing her and having a relaxed drink with friends we see all-too infrequently we would have wanted to ask what the story is behind those ginormous pearls. Really, are those from the Wilma Flintstone collection?
Word is that the newly-restored Reuters employee was on her way to the OBX for a little R&R, although we don't hear much of people going there for the summer. (note to self: search the interwebs to find out where I can get one of those extremely rare bumper OBX stickers).
Samer got this candid, which enabled peepsNet to have two sequential posts with Katy sitting at a table in a restaurant -- hey, that's almost enough to start a flickr group!
We don't know who that good-looking guy at Katy's elbow is, because, while Samer is a passable photographer he is a terrible reporter. This is why you haven't received dime-one in peepsNet stringer fees yet, dude.
Dinner at NOPA was fantastic. Lots of "remember when" stuff. Fortunately it was dark inside this fascist eatery best known for a $12 burger so nobody could see peepsNet cry. Even if, we'd blame the gin. Or even the memory of the absinthe.
Katy seemed remarkably unaffected by her return to the Baron's fold. Everything is better in San Francisco, I guess.
Nicole doesn't like photographers. Or at least a guy with an iPhone in her face. Funny tude from someone who was bitten by the shutter bug (niiiiiice) recently.
Live and let live, baby!
We've been lazy. Busy. No, lazy.
But we couldn't let this one get by us, even through we've missed about 18 other DCIst "Photo of the Day" pix by the boy wonder.
Actually lots of delicious food.
Apparently peepsNet hasn't been quite obsequious enough about Nicole, so we got the carrot-and-stick treatment. Sort of literally, come to think of it: a lovely vegan meal, and Polish absinthe which, to the best of anyone's knowledge, was 144 proof -- a fact we discovered way, way too late. Think the dental scene in Marathon Man: oil of cloves and drilling without anesthetic.
Then we didn't offer to do dishes. Sorry, Michael.
PeepsNet isn't about ratting on the peeps. We aren't interested in the seamy underbelly of their lives. We'd rather not think there was a dark side. We don't want to hear about their weaknesses and foibles, or the gender confusion, addiction, gambling obsession, spiritual ambivalence, Oedipal complex, "daddy issues," and ritual cruelty to small animals.
And neither should you.
But there are limits to our restraint. We have just learned that Nicole has been unfaithful -- Nicole! Here is her unrepentant confession, on the Interwebs:
"A confession: I'm obsessed with cauliflower. And I'm not sorry."Oh -- you're sorry all right.
"If a head of this funny-looking crucifer doesn't find its way into at least one meal a week, I'm either having a bad month or am out of town too much. A dinner without cauliflower feels off-balance, lackluster. A life without cauliflower is no life at all."Nicole, please. Try to regain a modicum of dignity. No man is worth humiliating yourself like this. (Or likes to be called a "funny-looking crucifer." This may be your problem).
"There are so many ways to adore you, cauliflower. I love you for your delicious, crumbly gratins baked for an hour in the oven on Friday evenings. I love your Monday night soups quickly whirled together and laced with mushrooms and herbes de Provence. I love your lazy Sunday afternoon curries served with coconut rice. But I think best of all I love you slow-roasted at 400 degrees for about a half hour."I just don't know you anymore.
She taught us that quinoa could save the world and now Nicole is all about "The World in a Grain of Rice." Make up your mind? What's that? This just in: They are both grains.
Our woman in San Francisco is serving up some Chow (sorry) about what you can do with things called "polenta" and "millet" and "bulgur." Worst cocktails names ever.
But we like lists, and this is a top 10, which means we can just find #1 and go with that without a lot of reading. Cake is mentioned. That's promising.
The "about" part at the bottom is very cool, and peepsNet is going to use this boilerplate for Nicole stories from now on. Our only quibble is calling Cucina Nicolina a "cooking blog." It's about life, people.
A shout out from David Newman Music to Rich on some "cool photos."
The are cool. The boy's still got game, even though he is getting on in years.
Let's start with the tie.
It was the sort of tie that kids get with their first suit -- a "club" style with irregular stripes of indeterminate and unmistakenly bland colors. The kind of neckwear they keep on hand at fancy restaurants, for uncouth guys who show up in shirtsleeves and baseball caps, because they are too ugly to steal.
Just the ticket for a company stooge who needs to wear a tie every day and wants you to know just how much he appreciates that.
Yes, the Res-man is management scum now, but only the "management" part is new.
He still favors a Bombay martini, dry and neat, but now with a twist of lemon. AP patrician influences, no doubt.
He carries an AP MasterCard, the easier to pay for interviews -- sorry, "travel expenses" for interviewees.
And he still has that ageless twinkle in his eye, even though age has caught up with the former 10/20 vision phenom, who now must occasionally wear reading glasses.
And his hearing is shot. Gotta repeat yourself a couple of times just to get his attention. Of course, we were in a loud bar. But I'm sure he is going deaf.
Any peep in the neighborhood is welcome for a rare Resnick sighting, scheduled for 6 pm at the Ebbett back bar.
For those of you who have successfully wiped this man from memory, he is the guy that:
Proof that Samer and I are not the same people.
Well, not really, I guess.
And then, there is the masthead picture. Oh, Jeez.
We've been lobbying for some time for Samer to start blogging again. Yeah, sure, the picture thing is OK, I guess, but anybody can take nice pictures (or act).
Well, our prayers have been answered. And it is a classic case of be careful what you wish for.
Samer is blogging not about Apple, not about GPS, not about the situation in the Middle East, not about Iceland, not about beer.
Samer is blogging about meat.
Not that he isn't a world authority, mind you. It's just that nearly half of the peeps population doesn't even eat meat, so it's kind of a throw down.
And, since the other twin peep is an established food writer -- it's kind of a throw down.
We might just start blogging about redheads. So there.
Photo by Samer Farha
Samer's DCIst opening reception looked like a blast -- sorry we missed it, but peepsNet had famNet obligations.
Show goes through March 15, so there is plenty of time. I'm getting a personal tour by the artist next week, which was my secret agenda. We do find that being in closed quarters with the rabble that shows up for gallery openings to be a bore. We don't wait on lines, either. Just so you know.
The entire collection is here -- though oddly enough, there are no shots of the boy wonder.
Our peeps are traveling far and wide -- first it was Resnick stalking Hillary in Iowa and now this, purportedly Rich Clement at the Oscars.
Caption suggestions?
Samer's featured at the DCist show again this year, so save the date (March 7, opening reception, 7-9 pm).
Even better, Samer's entry is featured on the show's official poster.
A set of fake steak knives for any peep who can name one person in this picture.
A fake Cadillac El Dorado for the first person to name both.
Can't name anybody? You're fired!
Huge backlog over at the Chron must be the reason they are only now printing Nicole's 2007 summer essay about cooking in her brother's tiny Greek apartment. Hell, even he's not there anymore -- rumor has it Kurt is all salty dog up in Maine which, come to think of it, may not be that far from Greece after all.
Anyway, we love the bit about cooking in the sink. Yes, the sink.
Turns out it falls on the same day as that other one this year. But this year we have a bunch o' new recipes from almost-vegan Nicole, via NPR. The Chocolate chocolate cake with chocolate butter cream (air quotes here) sounds mighty good, in case anybody cares what I think.
Samer has once again been selected as a finalist in the annual DCIst Exposed photo contest, for obvious reasons (see above).
Cause for celebration, indeed. By outsourcing, shedding non-essential staff and deciding not to cover either the US election or the Bejing Olympics peepsNet has saved enough to buy Samer a beer. And we totally would except we have a strict professional code of conduct which believe me doesn't permit that sort of thing at all.
But catch us at the opening reception on March 7 at Civilian Art Projects in Penn Quarter. We'll be live blogging and maybe we can free up one of our Davos stringers.
Catching up on some way overdue kudos after a busy month. The good news is that Samer won't have to pay taxes for a whole year on this since peepsNet is covering it in 2008. Remember: advance deductions, delay income:
Torontoist, Dec. 3, 2007
DCist, Dec. 3, 2007
The boy's complete collection is here.
There's the author herself, with dad, bro and mom (r-l).
For the Director's Cut, check out cucinanicolina.
Not my call, Samer, but I would thank mom, keep up with Helen and watch my back with that Nicole chick.