Stories

Let’s be real, here. People who grow up like I did are not often country music fans. Aside from my mother’s odd taste for the sounds of the Grand Old Opry (acquired during her years at Wellesley, no doubt) I knew no country music unless it was from one of those “Willie Nelson’s Greatest Hits” ads that ran constantly on our local CBS station. Well, sometimes I caught a little bit of “Hee Haw” if no one changed the channel in time. Suffice it to say that “another somebody done somebody wrong song” was never my music of choice.

I like irony, subtly, and a literary lyric. Like my tea, I tend to like my music un-sweet, unless the sweetness is only one of many layers and has no cloying quality. There was a kind of song that made me queasy from the time I was very small:  ”Baby, I’m a want you,” and “Cherish” come to mind. Well, and that other kind; the kind where a dog dies and is carried out to sea, or someone (or something) named “Wildfire” is apparently lost. There was a kind of broad, needy, whiny quality about those songs, and that Ick Factor seemed to exist in every country song I heard. “Blue Eyes Cryin’ in the Rain?” Seriously?!

It’s almost summer – in L.A. it feels like summer already. We were sent a sample of a new drink from Laughing Glass Cocktails. Okay, we like the name, too.

It’s an artisan tequila. No, it’s an artisan margarita. In a bottle, pre-mixed (but it doesn’t feel mixed at all, it’s so light and delicious....) and all natural. The name alone was perfect. Just pour it over ice in a wine glass and if you want to be fancy add a slice of lime. But for a summer barbecue, (or a guacamole starter) and a light incredible drink under the stars, we recommend it highly! And, for a party, it’s so simple, three bottles and no muss and fuss, and slightly lighter (thank goodness) on the alcohol content than if you’d mixed it at home. Some of us have a no alcohol before six rule around here, but you don’t, I bet it would be delicious with huevos rancheros, too!

Balsamic Vinegar. Yes, it’s a standard. It’s the norm. Can I have the salad with balsamic on the side. The price of balsamic varies like wine, but a few years ago we discovered a moderately priced balsamic (also artisanal, also limited edition, also limited distribution like the Laughing Glass above) called Leonardo & Roberto’s. It’s quite simply incredible!! I’m addicted.

Only available, as near as I can tell online or at some of John Edwards select Farmers’ Markets. Less is more. The taste is fuller, the amount of dressing you need is less as well as the amount of balsamic you need in the dressing is less. If I could, I’d send everyone I know a bottle instantly. We like the traditional but also, available in other flavors....!

People always think I’m an expert on everything. Which I guess makes sense because I am sort of perfect. But seriously, I get questions all the time. Where should I eat sushi in New York? Where should I take a yoga-obsessed Venice girl out on a date? What’s a good coffee shop that’s hip but quiet enough to write in? Do you know of a fun gallery in Berlin?  I’ve never even been to Berlin!! Don’t you people have Google?? I mean, don’t get me wrong. I’m flattered that people think I’m a fountain of information. And I sort of get it. I mean, as my boyfriend can vouch, I might be the pickiest person in the world. Although, I prefer the term “refined”.  And the combination of having refined taste and being economically cautious (though some people would call it cheap) does sort of make me, by necessity, a fountain of information. So consider yourselves lucky to be in on my Best Of list, in no particular order:

Best Hotel Bar: The Whiskey Bar at the Sunset Marquis
1200 Alta Loma Road West Hollywood, CA 90069

Best Ice Bar: Absolut IceBar London
31-33 Heddon Street, Mayfair, London, W1B 4BN
United Kingdom +44 20 7287 9192

Best People Watching: Campari gallery events
Sign up at www.campariusa.com for invites   

Best Sushi: Matsuhisa
(Just tell them Chaparang sent you.)
129 N. La Cienega Blvd., Beverly Hills, CA 90211 (310) 659-9639

Best Place to Go with No Plans: Paris

"I'm alive, awake, alert, enthusiastic...I'm alive, awake, alert, enthusiastic--I'm alive, awake, alert--I'm alert, awake, alive--I'm alive, awake, alert, enthusiastic!" (Insert dance moves through entire song).

Since I went to girl scout camp in middle school (yes I'll admit that), this has been my morning mantra. I was recently reminded how important the days of sleep-a-way camp were for me, how they affected me, and how they shaped me. 

I spent several summers at Camp Mosey Wood in northern Pennsylvania forging friendships with people from all over the world. I remember meeting new friends from Maine, new friends from Virginia, new friends from Florida, and new friends from New York City. I remember meeting counselors from Ireland, England, and Australia. I remember asking the New Yorkers to teach me how to say Florida with a real New York accent. I remember staying up all night sharing ghost stories, and I remember sitting by the sides of home-sick campers and telling them jokes until they felt better.  Home-sickness seemed to be a violently contagious disease that laughter could cure. I should have known my life would revolve around laughter then.