I had dinner at Strange Delight on Monday night—chef Ham El-Waylly’s New Orleans-inspired spot in Fort Greene—where he’d put together a special menu to celebrate the release of his new cookbook, Hello Home Cooking. I’ve been there a few times and it’s always great, but I can’t stop thinking about the special nam pla prik pork chop made with charred tomatillos. El-Waylly’s recipes draw on his Egyptian-Bolivian heritage and early life in Doha for high-flavor takes on the types of dishes you’d look forward to making at home. I ordered the cookbook on the merits of that pork chop alone, but his pre-launch press has also been incredible: a series of pitch-perfect spoofs on Instagram, including Not Hot Ones, Not Chicken Shop Date, and Not Subway Takes. Delicious and entertaining.
-VvP
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Immediately after I purchased my tickets for Aldous Harding’s new world tour (her first in four years), I went back and watched this 2016 video of her performing “Horizon” around another thousand times. If you’re not familiar with Harding’s music but like this video or are least intrigued enough to learn more, I think her KEXP performance is a good place to start. (As of course is her short Tiny Desk Concert.)
-DW
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It’s 70 degrees in NYC as a type this, but dropping back down to the low 30s for the weekend. I plan on soothing myself by starting Saturday morning with one Lift Up gummy by Miss Grass. 5mg of THC, coupled with vitamin B12, lion’s mane, and ginseng, and wrapped in a juicy blood orange mimosa: it’s better than brunch. I’ll probably stack a second one come midday and sail right on through to sunset.
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Every time I get a haircut these days, I stare at the porcelain electrical outlets in front of the barber chair and think how cool they look—and also how I’d never spend the money on such a thing. Well, it seems that Instagram has evolved from listening to my conversations for algorithm fodder to actually reading my mind, as this week I was served up not one, but two accounts hawking ceramic sockets. The seemingly more established one, Rosetta Ceramica, makes significantly more colorful and intricate designs than what’s in my barbershop, which makes them even more tempting. The Russia-based company doesn’t make products for U.S.-style outlets, but another company I found, Dyke & Dean, does (in both round and square). Maybe for my birthday one year I’ll ask people to go in on a collection for every outlet in my apartment. Otherwise, this is a great rec for someone who has no problem spending money on beautiful useless things.
-DW
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Someone recently asked me, if I could own a painting by any artist, who would it be? I threw out a couple classic names–Winslow Homer, J. M. W. Turner—but ultimately settled on a third: Jasper Johns. In truth, it probably still is Homer (those brushstrokes), but there’s a special place in my heart for Johns. The master of mixing high art with the everyday, Johns’ work speaks to a confluence that I often try to achieve within my own writing and projects. If you want to see this exact mastery in person, Gagosian’s 980 Madison outpost has managed to pull together all six of his Between the Clock and the Bed canvases—borrowed from the MoMA, the National Gallery, and the VMFA—into a single room. It is a rare, incredibly dense maze of interlocking crosshatches that demands a long, quiet afternoon stare before the show closes on April 3rd.
-DW
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Remember that candy mystery I wrote about back in December? Special thank you to reader Kim and her brother who tracked down a bag of Li Hing Kalakoa ‘Opihi from a 7-Eleven on the big island and then shipped them to me, like absolute angels.
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