Carol Han

When I was a little girl, this is exactly what I wanted to be when I grew up.

The Mermaid by John William Waterhouse, 1901.

This is how I feel sometimes when I’m on the brink of doing something totally new and risky, changing direction suddenly, falling in love for the first time, falling in love again.

And this is how I feel sometimes about New York City in general. Yup. It still gets me awestruck almost everytime.

When you take Tim Burton’s quasi-sick fantasy worlds and mix them with an established fairy tale based on drug usage (i.e. Alice in Wonderland), the results are bound to be genius. Looking at the just-released photos is making me die a little from too-intense anticipation.

From left to right: Johnny Depp as the Mad Hatter, Helena Bonham Carter as the Red Queen, Anne Hathaway as the White Queen.

The boys of the Randolph threw a raucous, boozy pool party at Sole East in Montauk on Saturday. Despite the intermittent rain, the weekend turned into a 48-hour rager reminiscent of college spring breaks/Vegas weekends I’d sooner forget/Hangover the Movie. Am now sipping green tea in pajamas with La Mer slathered onto my face (a.k.a. recovery mode).

How did the tiger get into the bathroom?

Some people track their personal progress in career milestones, in years or days or months gone by, in hearts broken or healed, in pounds lost, in friends gained, in fears conquered. And some—like me—measure growth through food.

Last night, I made the best eggplant parmesan of my young life. It was a typical Sunday night dinner, one of a thousand I’ve had over the years. Except this time, as I simmered my homemade tomato sauce and sliced and salted the eggplants, I found myself thinking back to a similar Sunday night, almost two years ago to the day. I remembered peeling potatoes in an unfamiliar Brooklyn kitchen, chopping butter into a warmed pot, pouring too much milk into the mix. I remembered laughing nervously at his bad jokes, wrapping my arms around his waist as he dredged chicken slices in flour, reaching up to touch a stray piece of dark hair, stealing glances at this newfound object of affection and wondering how long he’d be around.

And last night, as I dropped the first batch of eggplant slices into a searing hot skillet of sizzling olive oil, my mind still lingering around the corners of an ages-old memory, my front door opened and in he walked. Same dinner date, two years down the line. So much has changed, so much has stayed the same.

He was a crush who turned into a boyfriend who turned into a lover who turned into a stranger, and all the way back around again more times than I can count. Whoever he may be at any given moment, he’s always my best friend. I don’t know what any part of life will look like two years from now. But my dinner date from two years ago, and from 24 hours ago: I hope he’s still at my table, in whatever capacity. 

I know I’m not sure of much, but at least I have this: I’m three times the cook I was back then, and no matter what happens, I’ll still have a kick-ass eggplant parmesan.

SIMPLE EGGPLANT PARMESAN
(adapted from GOOP)

SERVES: 4
TIME: 1 hour

• 4 small eggplants (about 2 1/2” in diameter) or 3 regular eggplants
• Coarse salt
• 1 cup unbleached, all-purpose flour
• Olive oil
• 2/3 cup of your favorite tomato sauce*
• 1 large ball fresh mozzarella (about 4 1/2 ounces)
• Small handful of basil leaves, roughly torn
• 3/4 cup finely grated parmesan (about 2 ounces)

Slice the eggplants into about 1/3” discs. Sprinkle slices with a small pinch of coarse salt on each side and place in a single layer between two clean kitchen towels. Place a cookie sheet on top and weigh down with something heavy (a few cans of beans or tomatoes will do). Let the eggplant sit for 20 minutes.

Preheat the oven to 350°F.

Lightly dredge the eggplant slices in the flour. Heat 1/4” of olive oil in a large skillet over high heat. When a pinch of flour sizzles on contact, add the eggplant slices in a single layer, turn the heat to medium-high and cook for about one and a half minutes on each side or until dark golden brown. Drain the eggplant on paper towels and repeat in batches until all of your eggplant is cooked, adding more oil as necessary.

In a 13” x 9” baking dish, arrange as many slices of eggplant as can fit snugly in a single layer. Top each slice with a small spoonful of tomato sauce, a few small pieces of torn mozzarella, a bit of basil and a dusting of parmesan. Continue the layers, evenly distributing all the ingredients, until everything is used up.

Bake for 25 to 30 minutes or until the cheese is melting and bubbling and the house smells divine.

*For my simple homemade, never-fail tomato sauce that’s always in my fridge…
In a large saucepan, slowly cook six cloves of thinly sliced garlic in a couple tablespoons of olive oil for five minutes over low heat.  Add two large, fresh basil leaves and stir for a minute.  Add two 28-ounce cans of whole, peeled tomatoes along with their juice and two more whole basil leaves.  Bring the sauce to a boil, turn down the heat, season with salt and pepper and let it bubble away on low heat for 45 minutes. Cool and refrigerate.

swagup:

So very true.

On Saturday, the boys of The Ivy threw a tequila-fueled poolside party at Sole East Resort, where the girls and I stayed.

This gorgeous dude flirting with Suz is the one and only Steven Rojas, one of my most favorite people.