As I waited for the session to begin, I checked out the Institute’s glass case exhibit of antique kitchen implements. The cookbooks and coffee mill I recognized, but a few of the other items…?

Description of Knife Skills I:

Knowing how to use knives skillfully is critical for cooks, yet many people have never mastered proper technique. Similarly, good knives form the foundation of a well-equipped kitchen, yet even some accomplished home cooks don’t know how to select and care for them. In Knife Skills 1, you’ll use Wüsthof-Trident knives to slice, dice, and chop in the safest and most efficient manner. You’ll also learn the proper way to sharpen your knives.

Living on my own, I do a fair amount of cooking at home — which is perhaps not evident from this blog — so naturally, I’m no stranger to using knives in the kitchen. At least I was probably in a better position than one of my fellow students — dragged to tonight’s class by his girlfriend — who when quizzed about his home kitchen knife collection, sheepishly admitted, “I have a butter knife.” Up until now, I’d managed to get the necessary jobs done without causing any serious injury to myself or to others, but I’d always had the nagging suspicion that there were ways I could improve my technique.

Tonight’s class was led by chef-instructor Norman Weinstein, who has been teaching essential techniques for more than two decades. In addition to the four knife skills classes at ICE (from “Basics” to “Decorative Garnishes”), Weinstein leads two Chinese cooking classes (Sichuan and Cantonese). His book on Mastering Knife Skills is due out in March 2008.

Our group of 12 was made up of 6 men and 6 women tonight, which the instructor observed “almost never happens.” (It seems that these classes are overwhelmingly populated by females, so for any eligible bachelors who may be reading this, infer from that what you will.) After donning our white ICE aprons and name tags, we were set up at individual workstations laid out with a gleaming selection of Classic Wüsthof knives: chef’s knives, a utility knife and a paring knife.

The three hours we spent watching and learning to use the knives were an epiphany. According to Weinstein, the biggest mistakes people tend to make when using knives are using the wrong type of knife for the task, and handling the knife incorrectly. (Apparently, I’ve been guilty of both.) And where previously I’ve been hesitant to invest in any knife larger than 8 inches — small girl hands! — the 10 inch chef’s knife was a revelation. Weinstein put us through the paces halving a bagel, slicing up celery and carrots, then dicing potatoes and onions, mincing shallots and garlic, chopping herbs, and finally peeling. (Check out the tomato skin rose garnish — fancy!) Different techniques all, requiring different motions with the blade, which were not immediately obvious without specific instruction. But what an improvement!

Also covered: knife sharpening (which is best left to the professionals) and blade honing with a misnomered “sharpening steel.” Check out Alton Brown’s “Good Eats” segment on sharpening vs. honing, which covers a lot of the same points.

Chefs can be rabidly devoted to their knives — this Times piece by the brothers Lee also happens to includes a photo of my instructor — and depending on whom you ask, it’s not necessary to invest in a pricey set of kitchen knives. But boy, are they nice to have around.

After a while, I could really appreciate the heft, balance and weight of the Wüsthof knives, and the easy rhythms of steady cutting action that, when mastered, became almost meditative. The biggest challenge was unlearning old (bad) habits, so admittedly, it was slow going at first, but after a while, the techniques began to gel. So while I still don’t know how to wield a knife like Hung, winner of Top Chef Season 3, I feel I’m on my way, slowly, surely, to getting all the pieces the same size. And isn’t that really the most important thing?

On the way out, lured by the warm, delicious smells, I peeked in on the baking class still in progress across the hall. The one downside to the knife skills class: no treats to take home afterwards… unless you count the errant flecks of shallot I found in my hair later that night.

Okay, lesson one: chords. Now, I don’t know the actual names of the chords, umm, but I… I made up names for the way my hand looks while I’m doing them. So then, this is “Bear Claw.” Okay, umm, “Turkey Leg” and… “Old Lady.”
–Phoebe Buffay, Friends, “The One with All the Resolutions“

After weeks of conflicting schedules, CF and I were able finally to set aside an evening for our long-awaited guitar lesson, after which, she assured me, I would be able to play a song. Since I’d never so much as picked up a six string, the plan sounded ambitious, but I was game.

We made our way to the Upper West Side, and over light bites and a bottle of wine, the tutorial began. A major (a.k.a. “Bear Claw”), D major, E major. CF, ever patient, walked me through about half a dozen combinations before my mind could hold no more. (In retrospect, wine may not have been the best choice of beverage for this particular activity.)

Armed with my new knowledge, we flipped through the book CF had presented me with to encourage these new musical frontiers. Rise Up Singing claims to contain nearly 1200(!) songs, though that figure is just a little misleading: the format is what’s known in musical parlance as a “fake book,” which is to say, a collection providing the minimal information needed by a musician to make an impromptu, passable arrangement of a song. Enough to “fake it,” as it were. The format is intended to help a performer quickly learn new songs, and usually contains just a melodic line, lyrics and basic chords. Or in this case, just the lyrics and the chords; editors Peter Blood and Annie Patterson seem to assume that users will already know the tune to many of the book’s songs. I didn’t — er… “Rosebud in June (Sheep Shearing Song)“? — but out of the advertised 1200, there are certainly enough familiar ones to keep me busy for a good long time.

To my delight, and just as CF had promised, I actually was able to play through an entire song by evening’s end. Not well, but almost… somewhat… barely recognizably. My finger pads hadn’t been so sore since my years of Suzuki violin.

The song: “Leaving on a Jet Plane,” which was written by a 23-year old John Denver in 1967 during a flight delay at a Washington airport. Peter, Paul and Mary recorded the most well-known version of the song, which became their biggest (and final) single in 1969. Nearly three decades later, Canadian chanteuse Chantal Kreviazuk scored a minor hit with the version she recorded for the wretched Armageddon (1998).

Interesting tidbit: Denver successfully took legal action against New Order over the song, claiming that the guitar break on the band’s “Run 2” (1989) — the third single off their “last great album” Technique – was based too closely on his “Leaving on a Jet Plane.” An out-of-court settlement against the British rockers ensured that their song would never be re-released in its original form.

Here’s a shot of my beautiful Seagull S6–thanks again, friends and family! Yo-Yo Ma has his Petunia; B.B. King has his Lucille… What shall this one be?

Start up the campfire, break out the s’mores…

The weather, though, looked significantly less promising. By morning rush hour, dark clouds hovered overhead; whether the forecast rains would hold off until after lunch remained to be seen.

Oh well. It’s just water. Mostly.

DeChellis was born in Bogota, Colombia, raised in Clinton, New Jersey, and is best known for his innovative fusion-style cooking, which he honed at now-closed Union Pacific (where he was sous-chef under Rocco DiSpirito.) I’ve been a fan of DeChellis’ since his days in the kitchen at Sumile in the West Village, so I was pleased that his cooking segment coincided with my midday break.

We arrived at the south end of the park just as he was beginning to demonstrate his “BarFry salad,” one of the few non-fried menu items served at his newly opened — and well-reviewed — tempura palace. Making full use of the Greenmarket’s beautiful produce, DeChellis employed a variety of lettuces and shaved vegetables — many of which were familiar to us from our weekly CSA shares from Stoneledge Farm. (Ah, great use for mizuna and celeriac!) Hewing closely to his signature flavor profiles, he also incorporated Asian pear and shiso; the minty plant (leaves of which he passed around for sampling) with its distinctive piney/licoricey aroma was the one salad ingredient not available at the Greenmarket.

DeChellis gamely talked us through the paces of creating and plating a perfect salad as he answered questions from the audience.

As he wrapped up his presentation, a server appeared with white waxy paper bags of DeChellis’ special recipe popcorn. Those who know me know of my deep fondness for kettle corn, and this was like a gourmet, Asian-spiced version of that: sugar, salt, toasted sesame seeds, crushed pumpkin seeds, nori powder, nori flakes and Korean chili powder. Outrageously addictive!

And voilà — the DeChellis BarFry salad:

Tonight: 10 Items or Less — no relation to the TBS show of the same name — directed by Brad Silberling (Lemony Snicket’s A Series of Unfortunate Events), who was also that night’s guest interviewee.

10 Items or Less stars Morgan Freeman as a literally nameless commitment-phobic actor, venturing out to the ethnic fringes of Los Angeles to research a potential role in an indie project, after a four year hiatus from Hollywood. His co-star is fetching Spanish actress Paz Vega, whom the Sean Hayes character on Will and Grace once described to Bobby Cannavale (who coincidentally has a bit part in this film) as “Spanish for Ashley Judd.” One of the recurring jokes in the film involves Freeman’s character, billed only as “Him,” constantly finding dusty VHS copies of his last blockbuster with Judd in discount bins around town. Would that be High Crimes ? Kiss the Girls ? It’s all so meta.

In reality, Vega made her fame on the Iberian peninsula on television and in movies (Sex and Lucia, Pedro Almodovar’s Talk to Her) before making her American debut in Spanglish. Her subtle performance, as the express checkout line cashier aspiring to be something more, was the thing I enjoyed most about the film.

Not much to say about the slight 82 minute film, which was modest in feel and ambition: a cast of two, plus a couple of other actors and a dozen or so colorful non-acting locals. Danny DeVito and Rhea Perlman make a drive-by cameo appearance, which director Siberling told us was filmed in less than half an hour at a traffic stop on their way to their real life Brentwood home. That anecdote was indicative of the film’s minimalist production. Siberling informed the audience that night that 10 Items or Less was shot over 15 days for a budget of $2 million; compare that to his Lemony Snicket, which cost $125 million and filmed for 132 days. To keep costs down, Freeman (who was also an executive producer), Vega and some key crew members agreed to be paid on S.A.G. scale in exchange for gross points, or shares, in the finished film.

The financing model is one Siberling believes could be viable for independent film; in addition, 10 Items or Less will debut an experimental bifurcated distribution plan through digital entertainment venture Clickstar, Inc. Clickstar, which was founded by Freeman’s production company, Revelations Entertainment with an investment from Intel Corporation, will launch this film as the first through its broadband entertainment service, two weeks after the national theatrical release on December 1. The company seeks to become an online resource for first-run, pre-DVD-release films and artist-created entertainment channels, designed to give film makers a vehicle to reach broader geographical markets in an affordable and flexible way.

About that grammatically problematic movie title…

According to The American Heritage Book of English Usage, “[t]he traditional rule says that you should use fewer for things that can be counted (fewer than four players) but less with mass terms for things of measurable extent (less paper, less than a gallon of paint),” but makes allowances for using less with plural nouns in the expressions “no less than” and “or less.” The Columbia Guide to Standard American English makes the same distinction: “less with mass nouns and fewer with plural count nouns,” also acknowledging the exceptions of “a few idiomatic locutions,” noting that “[e]dited English prefers fewer, and for many conservatives, the use of less where fewer is expected remains a strong shibboleth.”

Count me among those grammar “conservatives.” And kudos to places like Whole Foods Market — the only chain I know to use the technically proper “…or fewer” in their express checkout signage.

Passing through Times Square on the way home:

Sunday morning cooking class with John at the Williams-Sonoma. This week, in preparation for Thanksgiving, a primer on roasting a turkey.

The key to a juicy, flavorful turkey is in the brining. The additional step keeps the bird moist and tender: sugar and spices added to the brining liquid enhance the meat’s flavor; the salt breaks down some of the meat proteins, allowing more liquid to be absorbed into the bird. When the turkey is roasted over a long period of time, the proteins coagulate, preventing the liquid from escaping, resulting in overall increased moisture content–hence, a juicier turkey.

After class, coffee at Bouchon and some more photos from the upper floors.

These holiday stars were strung up at the TWC just the evening before; I saw the crew working late into the night, as I walked home. The Time Warner Center debuted this “Under the Stars” installation last November. Brooklyn-based Holiday Image Inc. designed, built, and installed the dozen brushed aluminum stars; each 14-point, 12′ x14′ star weighs 987 pounds. Ted Mather designed the lighting. The structures will eventually be lit from within by over 8,500 color LED’s, shifting colors to coordinate with interpretations of holiday music.

A quick bite with B near Herald Square, and then some shopping before the thunderstorms were set to roll in. But not at H&M…

Dutch duo Viktor and Rolf unveiled their design collection at H&M on Thursday. This is H&M’s third foray into the elite-desiger/mass-market retail arena: their previous high fashion collaborations featured designs by Karl Lagerfeld (2004) and Stella McCartney (2005).

Such designer pairings ostensibly represent some democratization of design. Michael Graves, Philippe Starck and Isaac Mizrahi for Target come to mind. Unlike Target’s “Design for All,” which has featured several amply stocked lines by each designer, H&M’s lines have been focused on scarcity: extremely limited stock and one-off collections. The strategy had already proven successful: Lagerfeld’s limited edition collection was devoured the morning it hit the floor in 2004; the following year, McCartney’s line sparked riots (and all sorts of unbecoming behavior.) By most accounts, the entire 40 piece collection sold out of all New York City stores within 15 minutes to bargain-hungry fashionistas who had waited on line overnight–while the media giddily covered the frenzy.

Fortune aptly dubbed this marketing trend “mass-clusivity“: limited-edition items created by big chains to generate heat and sell out fast. For the retailer, there’s virtually no downside: the media coverage alone is priceless. And shoppers who arrive after the exclusive goods have sold out may resort to making other purchases. For the most part, what makes these clothes desirable is not their inherent quality–which is immaterial–-but the demand manufactured by their scarcity, i.e., their exclusivity, manufactured or otherwise. What H&M is selling, even more than designer clothes, is the designer experience. And by making their limited edition collections available to anyone willing to invest the hours on line and to throw themselves into the fray, H&M seems to be promoting the democratization of not just design, but designer shopping itself.

So they did it again: this time, to somewhat less insane effect (Viktor & Rolf being more a cult Paris-based label, lacking the label recognition of McCartney, and even Lagerfeld.) Still, there was plenty of madness to cover–not at all limited to the United States.

The centerpiece of the collection was this wedding ensemble: tuxedo and bridal gown (which was limited to an edition of 1,000 worldwide.) Needless to say, by the weekend every shred of V&R was snatched up–hence the “Sold Out” broken heart–though available for purchase on eBay… at a price-gouging markup, of course.

In Russian, the instrumental case (tvorítel’nyj padézh) is used to mark the means by which an action is done. The “instrument” can be a physical entity (“by car,” “with friends” or “with a pen“) or more abstract (“with enthusiasm“). It is also used to denote spatial relationships (behind, between, under), a time during which an action occurs (“in the evenings“), a change of state or status (“After eating all those apricots, I became ill“), or to emphasize a profession (“She works as a doctor.”) All this I ascertained from the supplemental Russian study guide I ordered through Amazon.com this week. Because the topic wasn’t covered in the textbook  we’re using for the course. Yes, this class is proving to be quite a challenge.

Someday… I want to read Tolstoy in the original Russian.

“The aim of an artist is not to decide a question indisputably, but to compel us to love life in all its countless, inexhaustible manifestations.”

– Lev Nikolayevich Tolstoy (1865)

I stepped out at 12:30PM for the second of three free lunchtime concerts in the square. Bassist-singer Esperanza Spaulding (whose name means “hope” in spanish) played a jazz set, backed by a keyboard player and drummer. The trio set up stage just in front of Mark di Suvero’s 70-foot tall steel beam Joie de Vivre sculpture, which last year was relocated to the financial district from the Storm King Art Center in Orange County, New York, where I first saw it. I remember the ten months during which the park was closed off for construction, and how one leg of the sculpture’s tripod base emerged from over the plywood barriers set up along the perimeter – like an abstract red giant escaping easily over a too-low wall onto the sidewalks of Broadway.

After work, I met up with SN for our first Russian class of the semester, which despite our entrenched pessimism, had not been canceled after all. Good  because I genuinely want to advance my language skills; bad  because I had done absolutely no review or preparation for the first class. Which turned out for me to be very bad indeed.

This being a language skills course — and one with only eight students — the oral participation requirement per student was set pretty high. I spent the entire two-hour class in a state of nausea and anxiety. You know the dream about having to take an exam for which you haven’t studied — in fact: you’ve no clue about the subject, your pencils keep breaking and you can’t even read the test papers? Yeah — sort of like the waking life version of that. At least I wasn’t naked.

Which reminded me a little bit of the classic SNL sketch, Cooking with The Anal Retentive Chef. R.I.P., Phil Hartman.

Brunch downtown at Chat ‘n’ Chew with SYB, after which, en route to Time Out New York’s “Back to School Blowout” in Union Square, we passed through stand after stand piled high with skeins of colorful yarns and impressive displays of fiber crafts. And lots and lots of squealing women, many lugging around overstuffed shopping bags, along with the occasional shellshocked-looking man – all out for the Eighth Annual “Knit-Out & Crochet” event, also being held that afternoon in the Park.

I recognized a few of the yarn purveyors from around the city (like Seaport Yarn and the Upper West Side’s Knitty City) as well as some of the larger yarn and crafts manufacturers. It would have been very easy to get caught up in it all had I been with someone else (i.e., a woman), but I surmised that SYB probably wasn’t all that interested in oohing over the silks, cashmeres, mohairs and alpacas.

Time Out hosted the back-to-school festival last year also, the primary purpose of which is to welcome new — mainly, college — students to New York City and to introduce them to the vast and diverse offerings of the city. I like attending because in addition to being a continuing student – Russian class starts on Wednesday! – it’s nice to be reminded of why New York is such a great place to be.

Heartland Brewery was there in the Square, pumping out free beer from a keg, as was Trader Joe’s with their Mango Lemonade and Chile Spiced Mango samples (chewy, spicy — different.) Peanut Butter & Company had lots of coupons and temporary tattoos to distribute. I let the woman put one on my arm; it had a monkey on it! There were lots of giveaways – nothing spectacular, though SYB picked up a Wicked -emblazoned hand fan, and we both entered contests for Carnegie Hall subscriptions and comedy shows. Fingers crossed!

Popped into Max Brenner Chocolate by the Bald Man — the newish cafe/ restaurant/chocolate shop from Israel that opened its first New York City branch off Union Square, drawing crazy, sweet-seeking crowds, and inevitable comparisons to Willy Wonka (minus the Oompa Loompas.) From the moment we set foot inside the door, the rich, heady scent of chocolate permeated our nostrils. And no wonder: there were trays, plates, bins and fountains overflowing with the dark stuff at every turn. It was almost too much. Almost.

I hear they serve a chocolate “pizza” — with an optional topping of mini-marshmallows — in the cafe. Is that wonderful… or a little obscene?

SYB was already there, considering the offerings at the School of Continuing and Professional Studies. After a quick tour among the tables, I spied IG, the superstar of our Russian I class, by the refreshments table. After some quick catching up, I left her with SN to discuss course registration strategy. I hope to see them both again in two weeks, when Russian II starts up for the Fall. NYU requires a minimum enrollment of six people to hold the class; after tonight, we’re already halfway there. Fingers crossed…

SYB was leaving the event also, so I invited him to tag along to the book party for Jennifer Rubell’s Real Life Entertaining. (SYB is all about the real life entertaining, after all.) We took the subway uptown to The Conran Shop, in Bridgemarket, tucked in the shadow of the Queensboro Bridge. This design-conscious home furnishings store opened in 1999, but I’d never had an occasion to make the special trip out there until now.

According to last week’s New York Times profile about The Conran Shop, the foot-traffic unfriendly location results in the cavernous, bi-level glass and steel space remaining empty most of the time. Technically, the store may have been open for shopping, but almost everyone there tonight seemed to be there for the party.

Jennifer Rubell is the niece of nightlife kingpin Steve Rubell, who co-founded the legendary Studio 54. Professional entertaining is her legacy: her family runs three Miami-area hotels (The Beach House, The Greenview and The Albion) and The Rubell Family Collection, a museum housing the world’s largest private family collection of contemporary art.

By the time we made our way past the clipboarded name-checkers, the cooking demonstration had already started downstairs. Rubell seemed to be about five minutes into the preparation of her quick and easy “Summer Tuna Spectacular,” featuring seared tuna with diced olives, tomatoes and capers. She talked the audience through the demonstration, offering creative ideas and helpful tips. (“Always cut meat against the grain for maximum tenderness!”) Though she probably caters to a similar demographic, I found Rubell far, far less grating than Rachael Ray.

Fair warning: any comments which include the terms “E.V.O.O.” and/or “Yum-o” will be deleted — no exceptions. Violators will be scorned.

One of the party sponsors was Rose’s Cocktail Infusions: purveyors of multi-colored fruit-flavored drink mixers. After Rubell’s segment, a bartender came up front to demonstrate the recipes a couple of prettily-hued specialty drinks featuring Rose’s mixer, both of which were also being served up at the bar stations around the floor.

Watermelon, Cranberry, Mango, Apple, and Blue Raspberry. I’m sure I do not understand the reasoning behind this quiz, but you can take it anyway to find out which Rose’s Cocktail Infusion suits your personal style. I’m a “Watermelon Trendsetter!”

After the two demos, there was plenty of time to wander among the cool Conran stock as the trays of hors d’oeuvres circulated. I actually found quite a few items I liked… if I had at least thrice the space and ten times the money I do now.

Dinner at English pub Baker Street, and then we crossed town to meet CS at our long-neglected local watering hole. Things there got pretty interesting, despite the absence of our friend, Bartender Paul (who is only on duty Mondays, Tuesdays and Saturdays.)

At one point in the evening I approached the bar to request a glass of water, and two men (both named Rob) sitting nearby began to strike up a conversation with me. One seemed vaguely familiar-looking, and as he and I continued to chat, a few details began to emerge from the haze of my memory. Yes, Riverside Drive, Morgan Stanley, Canadian…. Finally, after a pause, Rob commented, “You know… uh, we’ve met before.”

“Oh? Hmm, I thought so…”

“Yes. The last time, you were here with your lesbian friend.”

Ah. I should note here that “the last time” was well over a year and a half ago, and that although this was the first occasion she has been referred to me as such, I immediately recognized that the woman Rob was talking about was M. Dear M – from here on, known as my lesbian friend, haha! M(LF) and I were at Peter’s that late night so long ago, no doubt post-morteming our respective love life disasters.

Needless to say, she must have made quite the impression.