A few weeks ago I joined up with many other flood bloggers in New Orleans for the International Food Blogger Conference. The weekend was chock full of awesome food, great discussion, and wonderful people, and though I was sad to leave such a vibrant, interesting city when the weekend was over, I left feeling so thankful for the experience. And I felt the need to come home and cook some good Cajun and Creole food.

Unlike previous conferences, I went with no plans, and if you know me at all you understand how that is completely unlike me. I felt the need to let the weekend flow as it would, be in the moment and see what would happen. I took time to wander the French Quarter and snap photos of balconies.

And musicians.

I ate a crawfish omelet at Café Fleur de Lis.

And a chocolate croissant at Croissant D’Or.

Nibbled pralines from Evans Creole Candy.

And I promised Michael that I would get beignets and café au lait at Café Du Monde. Promise kept.

But the weekend wasn’t just about the food—even though it was so good I came home feeling compelled to make gumbo with a good dark roux–it was about meeting up with other people who share the same passion for food and blogging and learning from each other. For me the best moments of the conference were catching up with friends made at previous conferences, meeting people whose blogs and/or cookbooks I’ve read and others I’ve followed on Twitter, presenters who were pros in their respective fields, and many folks who were new to blogging.

This conference felt different from previous I’ve attended, and others noticed and mentioned it, too. Absent was the sense of competition to get noticed, to meet the right people, to give off airs of importance. We were just all there to have a good time, enjoy being together, eat some good New Orleans food, laugh at Seattle Food Geek’s hilarious tweets, listen to John Besh and Poppy Tooker and John Folse, and learn things that would make us better contributors to the food blog community. As the conference came to an end on Sunday morning and Barnaby gave his closing remarks, someone joked about having a kumbaya moment as people shared their thoughts about the weekend, and it was true. I’m looking forward to going back to IFBC next year.

Many, many thanks to Foodista and Zephyr Adventures for putting on a great conference, to all the sponsors, The Hotel Monteleone, and the fantastic restaurants and chefs that cooked for us that weekend. If you are ever in New Orleans, make sure you check out these restaurants:

The Grill Room, Sylvain, Ste. Marie, Langenstein’s, La Petite Grocery, Sucre, GW Fins, Parkway Bakery, Red Fish Grill, Royal House Oyster Bar, Riverfront Restaurant, Pier 424 Seafood, Pierre Maspero’s, and Abita Beer.

And thank you to NOLA for making our stay so much fun!

Thanks for subscribing to this blog! Copyright © 2005-2012 Andrea Meyers: making life delicious.

This past weekend at BlogHer Food 2011 in Atlanta was a whirlwind. There were so many wonderful people all talking about what we love—food, cooking, gardening, restaurants, and anything related—that I found myself wishing there was more time, maybe an additional day with no sessions planned just set aside to hang out with everyone and have fun. I lucked out this time and Michael and I didn’t have to meet early at the airport to do the kid handoff because he didn’t have to travel, so I booked my flights to allow some time to see Atlanta and spend time with friends old and new that I hardly ever get to see.

After Sunday morning breakfast with Susan and Sean, they headed to the airport (or tried to as you may have seen in their tweets) and I set off to spend the afternoon at the Atlanta Botanical Garden. I heard they have an edible garden and were doing cooking demonstrations that day, so as soon as I arrived I made a beeline for their outdoor kitchen, which is right next to the edible garden. Megan McCarthy was leading the demonstration using fresh chard grown just a few steps away from the kitchen. After the demo I took a leisurely stroll through the gardens, taking notes of plants we could add to our garden and creative ways to prop plants that need support. The afternoon was hot but not too humid, and I sat for a while under the shade of enormous magnolia trees in bloom. In spite of the heat, I felt refreshed and relaxed when it was time to leave and promised myself that I would set aside time to do this more often.

If you are thinking about visiting the garden, check out their Thursday evening Cocktails in the Garden events, which run May through September.

How to Get There

1345 Piedmont Ave. NE
Atlanta, GA 30309
404.876.5859
Map

Thanks for subscribing to this blog! Copyright © 2005-2012 Andrea Meyers: making life delicious.

This is a guest post from my husband, Michael, who travels the world and brings home stories of his many culinary adventures. This one brought back memories of one of my favorite middle eastern foods.

The journey from Dulles Airport in Northern Virginia to the Bahrain Airport in the middle east takes about thirteen hours. Passing through customs I’m jet lagged but eager to sample a bit of the culture. So when my friend met me in the terminal with evening’s options I latched on to the first thing he mentioned, which was a Shawarma Crawl. Seems there are a group of guys he works with that have partaken in this event several times and were willing to indoctrinate us into the local custom. The rally point was an Indian restaurant called Silk where we each selected a 24 ounce Kingfisher beer. After introductions around the table we all were drawn to the cricket test match on the television and pooled our knowledge in an attempt to figure out the game. We quickly agreed the sport was a bit too heady considering the evening’s planned festivities. Looking back it was strange that we started off the evening with an Indian beer in Bahrain, but like many cities in the region Manama contains a broad mix of cultures and influences. Since my friend and I were the “newbies” we were labeled the control group. At each location we all agreed to order the same shawarma so there would be a fair comparison, and chicken was the target.

Although we could discuss each vendor’s offering, there would be no grading until the end. The veterans joked about previous participants and the outcomes of their experiences which included tales of their bodies late night repulsion of these cultural gems and a lot of regretful cursing. Not surprising these former members of the crawl were not present for tonight’s adventure.

Fully hydrated we headed for shawarma alley, a short walk down the city road. Cars and motorcycles cruised by revving their engines as they cruised by again and again. As if we called ahead, the uniformed vendors motioned us in as we walked by their shops, the four foot high spits of meat and chicken rotating past red hot electric coils. We promised them all we would be back and headed for the shop at the far end.

We ducked inside and pulled up worn plastic chairs to the Formica topped table and placed our orders. Shawarmas are standard middle eastern street food, costing anywhere from .4 to one Bahrain dinars or about one to three US dollars. They are served rolled up in paper resembling a party favor. I unwrapped the first entry and noticed the grill marks on the flat bread , the thinly shaved rotisserie chicken complimented with slivers of tomatoes and shredded lettuce. We each doused our sandwiches liberally with bottles of watery hot sauce from the tables and dug in.

The exterior was soft and elastic and as I chewed, I could taste the layers of flavors starting with the chicken, then vegetables then the bread finished off by the hot sauce. It was really amazing how something so simple was so good. We asked the owner if we could take pictures where he nodded and grinned with approval.

Onto shop number two. As we placed our orders and at an outside table, one of our team queried the group on how a shawarma might do at football games. We all agreed there was an entrepreneurial opportunity here yet to be tapped. This shop also had fruit drinks the veteran crawlers spoke highly of, so we each agreed for the good of science to partake in one of these for the good of the data. I ordered the lemon mint which was a nice blend of two flavors I wouldn’t consider putting together. Now onto the next round of shawarmas, these were a bit smaller and the bread thinner, but the taste was still fairly good particularly when doused with hot sauce.

Of special note when it comes to the shawarma crawl is to monitor your liquid consumption because the vendors and their tiny shops do not contain modern facilities, so if you ask where the nearest restroom is they chuckle politely and motion down the nearest dark alley.

Onto shop number three. We took our seats again in a small room banded by mirrors and ordered the next round. The shawarmas came in quickly two at a time. The bread on this version was thinner almost crepe like and instead of round it was more rectangular and doubled over. The lightness of the texture made it more crunchy and frail, but still tasty.

At this point the volume of shawarmas was starting to kick in and I’m feeling like I’m sitting by Adam in a Man versus Food challenge. We newbies look to the other end of the table at the veterans as if waving a white flag of surrender. We all agree we’d had enough. Now for the voting. My friend and I being the control group got to go first and both rank the shawarmas 1, 2, 3 in the order we ate them. The lead veteran looked back at us with great surprise and announced out of the long history of the shawarma crawl, or at least as far back as anyone could remember, the consensus was always 3, 2, 1 on the ratings. Having initially felt like we had broken some sort of code, the veterans conceded the last shop was a poor showing that night when compared to the past, and we later all agreed the edge was slim between numbers 1 and 2 this particular night.

We pooled our money for the last round and headed for the exit making a right past the two last shawarma vendors. They seemed a bit disappointed we left them out of the running, but promises were made that at the next crawl, future participants would start with them.

I was amazed how such a simple event brought together such a diverse group of men. Between bites of the competition, we would joke, talk about sports and what was going on in the world many times resulting in gut wrenching laughs, all in a place where a month earlier the media were showing protesters in the streets and reporting full scale civil unrest. When I returned to the motel I noticed similar internet reports for that day and into the evening. I just goes to show the news agencies sometimes go to great lengths to find the nuggets of unrest and report them back to us in the U.S. again and again thinking that is what we want see. At least that evening, in this part of town, the people were friendly and welcoming, the streets were absent of protesters, and somehow it seemed like the safest place on earth.

Thanks for subscribing to this blog! Copyright © 2005-2012 Andrea Meyers: making life delicious.

This is a guest post from my husband, Michael, who travels the world and brings home stories of his many culinary adventures.

Have you passed by curious places that nearly draw you in but for some reason you just don’t stop by; maybe you’re in a hurry, or the time is not right. Randy’s Donuts has been one of those places for me. I fly into LAX several times a year and can’t seem to make it to the 405 without passing by Randy’s, a small drive-in donut shop overwhelmed by a overwhelming sculpture in the shape of a donut on top. Built back in the 1950s, it’s at a corner location that gives you the feeling the neighborhood grew around it. But you don’t stay in business for over 50 years merely because of hype; there has to be something there underneath the giant ring.

Even though I had a meeting some 65 miles away in Oxnard and it was already 1100 in the morning—more of a time for a taco than a donut–I couldn’t let this place slip by again. I pulled up into the parking lot. Maybe it was seeing the landmark in the Iron Man II movie that sealed the deal. The store front to the walk up counter is pretty basic and reminded me of what you might see at an ice cream stand. There is even an ATM and lottery tickets available. Most people seem to prefer the drive through. Some movie scenes allude to a sit down area, but there is nothing available either inside or out.

I ordered a Long John and a chocolate glazed, both only 75 cents, and my donuts appeared less than a minute after ordering and paying. The donuts themselves were over sized and heavy, no cutting corners here. As the donut approached my mouth I didn’t notice any typical scent of fry oil or a greasy exterior. The first bite was marvelous and the first thing that comes to mind is buttery, and the chocolate frosting perfectly balanced and complimentary. I realize it might seem over the top to describe a donut that way, but it was that good.

I quickly devoured one and then the other, then headed off. Randy’s Donuts carried me through the evening but with no heavy feeling. Randy’s claims to be the best donuts in L.A., even the world, and they just might be right.

Getting There

Randy’s Donuts
805 West Manchester Avenue
Inglewood, CA 90301
310-645-4707
http://randys-donuts.com/

Thanks for subscribing to this blog! Copyright © 2005-2012 Andrea Meyers: making life delicious.

This is a guest post from my husband, Michael, who travels the world and brings home stories of his many culinary adventures.

I had heard about this place both on TV and from alumni who listed it as a must do when visiting State College. In a way you could call it the birthplace of Ben and Jerry’s, whose two founders took the ice cream making short course before launching their historic business franchise.

So when a business trip took me to Penn State, I was committed to go to the Creamery before heading back home. The day I was there was the Friday before Halloween and the big home game with Michigan. It was a cold, blustery day, but that still didn’t seem to slow down the crowd. Parking on the street is not permitted, but if you turn the corner from the food science building, you can park in the garage for free for up to 30 minutes. There is even a line of around 10 spaces dedicated to a quick ice cream visit, just make sure you keep your flashers on while you go inside, though why I have no idea.

Penn State’s blue and white school colors and the Nittany lion mascot are prominent themes both in the umbrellas sitting outside and in the creamery itself. The line forms near the sign and the serving pace is quick. Even though the line was a dozen or so deep I was being asked cone or cup within two minutes. On the far wall glass freezers hold ½ gallon ice creams stacked nearly eight feet tall for take away. Those in the know brought coolers or purchased a freezer bag and dry ice to take large quantities of their favorite treats home.

Having explored the website night before, I was looking forward to tasting the Alumni Swirl – vanilla ice cream with Swiss mocha chips and blueberry swirl. But it was not available by the scoop that day so I opted for my favorite fall standby, Pumpkin Pie. I paid for the cone first, plunking down just $2.75, and I had to ask twice since I didn’t think I heard him right. When is the last time you’ve paid so little for an ice cream cone? Certainly not in a dozen years or more.

Then I was ushered politely down the line to the scoopers. When the server pulled out a basic cake cone I was a bit disappointed preferring instead a brown sugar or waffle cone.

She scraped down into the ice cream freezer and pulled out a well mounded scoop sticking it off center which I thought was a bit odd, then went back in and scooped another, then another, creating a three scoop triangular base before adding a fourth scoop on top.

She handed it to me and I wondered if it would stay together, but she was a master of scoopology and quite frankly it was a work of art.

I walked over to the side and photographed it out of sheer amazement. As for the taste, wow, it had to be some of the best ice cream I have ever had in my whole life. The smooth rich flavor of pumpkin was laced with bits of crust, and at that moment I understood that they used the cake cone to allow the ice cream to shine. It was now a race to finish my cone before the flashers on my car gave out or 30 minutes whichever came first. As I worked through the dessert I noticed the giant silver scoop mounted on the wall some ten feet high, and tried to convince myself that given enough time I could eat through a helping like that.

I left this experience fully satisfied and with a smile on my face. Now if I can just convince one or more of my sons to go to college here I’ll have a great excuse to visit this mecca of ice cream more often.

Getting There

Berkey Creamery
The Pennsylvania State University
119 Food Science Bldg.
University Park, PA  16802
Phone: 814-865-7535
Fax: 814-863-9513
E-mail: icecream@psu.edu
http://creamery.psu.edu/

Located at the corner of Bigler and Curtin roads on the University Park Campus. Parking is available in the East Deck Parking Garage on Bigler Road located directly behind the Creamery Store and the Food Science Building. The first 30 minutes are FREE.

Thanks for subscribing to this blog! Copyright © 2005-2012 Andrea Meyers: making life delicious.

I sat for several hours at the Seattle airport last night, desperately wishing for a cup of hot chicken soup and a warm bed, but didn’t get home until this morning. I left Seattle with a cold but also brought home some wonderful memories. As I scan through my photos from a weekend in Seattle and the International Food Bloggers Conference, I find myself smiling and laughing as I see the faces of old friends and new and remember the fun we had this weekend.

I arrived in Seattle late Friday morning and spent the afternoon at Pike Place Market. This would be my only day to see some sights, and of course Pike Place was a no brainer. First stop, the famous fish market at the main entrance. Crabs anyone?

Of course I had to see some fish being tossed about.

Pike Place Market has a small Chinese restaurant that’s Zagat rated, Pike Place Chinese Cuisine, and I enjoyed a quiet lunch there while looking out at the Bay. The meal was hot and sour soup and barbecued pork with vegetables, exactly what I needed to recharge my batteries after the long flight from Dulles.

Cherries for dessert. (As I took this shot, I deeply regretted my decision to leave the big camera and cool circular polarizer filter back home.)

Seeing all the colorful flowers reminded me of the Colombian flower markets that I frequented back in the day and left me wishing I had a way to carry them back home to Virginia.

The sounds of musical groups performing outside on the sidewalks filtered throughout the area. This group has a great sound and drew a crowd.

I adored the colorful chili peppers strung together at a vegetable stand.

And the smells, oh the smells. The Russian bakery across the street called me like the Pied Piper and apparently called many others as the line of eager customers snaked out the door and down the block. And as I meandered through the stalls and the shops, all I could think was how much I wished we had a market as big and vibrant as this back home.

Thanks for subscribing to this blog! Copyright © 2005-2012 Andrea Meyers: making life delicious.

We can’t remember the details of our first trip to Dinosaur Bar-B-Que almost eleven years ago when we were dating, or why we chose to go there. Perhaps it was the quirky name, the recommendation of a friend, or even the person working the front desk at the hotel where we were staying. All of that doesn’t seem to matter now since we long ago claimed it as one of our favorite haunts. What we do remember is the food, and every time we go back it seems to get better. Our annual summer pilgrimage to Upstate New York always includes an overnight stay at Mike’s parent’s house in Syracuse, where they give us a break and watch the boys as we jump into the car and visit this homage to grilled meats. Who would have thought one of the best rated barbecue joints in the country would be located just a short distance away from the Carrier dome where the Orangemen play.

If it weren’t for the sign overhead you’d swear you were in front of a biker bar. Everyone is polite as you make your way past the row of Harleys out front, walk through the carry out area, and wait to be seated in the back. The interior is dark and eclectic with photos of jazz greats and memorabilia encircling the walls. Graffiti frames the wooden booths and windows as light streams through the glass block weaving past the neon beer signs. If you’re lucky there will be someone inside playing the blues. If you didn’t know better you’d swear you were in some off-the-beaten-path small Southern town.

The restaurant is a gem, and they serve up some real down home stick-to-your-ribs goodness. Nothing here disappoints and the service is casual and terrific. Dinosaur Bar-B-Que makes their own sauces and rubs with a range of flavor and heat to tickle the palate. I like the Sensuous Slathering Sauce, a slightly sweet sauce that I douse on the beef brisket, and Michael goes for the Wango Tango Habanero Sauce. If you have a serious need for some Dinosaur Bar-B-Que sauce but can’t find it in your local grocery store, they’ll ship it to you. They even have a cookbook with many of their popular recipes, which I will feature in my next post.

Each time I sit down to look at the menu, I find myself lingering over the combination platters, dreaming of pulled pork, beef brisket, and ribs, then taking an eternity to decide on the sides. It’s very important to choose exactly what I want because I know we won’t be back for another year.

During our last visit I had the Tres Niño’s, a daintier version of the Tres Hombres, which is loaded with pulled pork, ribs, beef brisket, honey hush cornbread, and served with fries and tomato cucumber salad on the side. See the charring on the ribs? That’s some good stuff.

Michael chose the Ragin’ Cajun chicken sandwich platter, loaded with hot Diablo sauce and served with fries and chili on the side.

We nibbled off each other’s plate, reminisced about our first visit all those years ago, and planned out the rest of the day. And of course we made plans to come back next year.

Getting There

246 W. Willow Street
Syracuse, NY 13202
315-476-4937

9 Court Street
Rochester, NY 14604
585-325-7090

646 W 131st St.
New York, NY 10027
212-694-1777

http://www.dinosaurbarbque.com

Thanks for subscribing to this blog! Copyright © 2005-2012 Andrea Meyers: making life delicious.

This is a guest post from my husband, Michael, who travels the world and brings home stories of his many culinary adventures.

During a December business trip to Philadelphia with friend and fellow carnivore Garth Jenson, I realized the shipyards where I was giving a briefing was a mere three miles from what many would consider the Mecca of cheesesteaks, the quaint part of the city where two world renowned competitors stake their turf across a busy intersection. Garth and I couldn’t let this opportunity pass by. We had to settle the matter for ourselves: which was better, Pat’s King of Steaks or Geno’s Steaks. Both are open 24 hours a day seven days a week, which makes you wonder how many cheesesteaks they sell at 4 a.m. on a Sunday.

We were lucky enough to find a spot along the park across the street from Pat’s. The air was crisp but that didn’t sway the faithful from making the pilgrimage to the land of beef and cheesesteak. A bit of reconnaissance was in order since we didn’t want to look like the newbies we were. We quickly scanned the menus and listened to a series of regulars walk up to the window and order. To slow down the process in front of a line of hungry people is definitely frowned upon.

We decided to make the bout as fair as possible. Garth would order one cheesesteak and I would order the other, then we would split them so both could savor what Pat’s and Geno’s had to offer and make our own decision.

We went to Geno’s first. Like its website, Geno’s is flashy: the sign is bigger than Pat’s, they have a police memorial walk, and the inside of the overhang is lined with pictures of the famous and slightly famous smiling with the owners or workers. Garth ordered a “Wiz wit,” which for those in the know is a cheesesteak with Cheese Whiz and onions. Before going on this trip I had surveyed the office and gotten opinions about whether to go with cheese slices or the Wiz, and based on the responses I determined the Wiz was more authentic, and Garth agreed. The Geno’s cheesesteak order came out about as fast as Garth paid.

We then crossed the street to Pat’s, which is less glitzy than Geno’s. I ordered a Wiz wit and then asked about a drink and was motioned to the window to the left. Seems they have the process down to a science and use the same procedure whether you are the only person in line or there with a hundred new friends. The Pat’s cheesesteak came out open faced and appeared to have twice the meat of the Geno’s version. Both were the same price, $8.25. We later learned that Geno’s hollows out their buns which would account for the apparent difference in size.

We sat down at one of the red metal picnic tables and laid the competition side by side. Since neither offered knives, we had to make do splitting the sandwiches with two plastic forks, not so easy when you are starving, so bring a knife if you plan to do your own throwdown.

The Verdict

First the Pat’s cheesesteak: they say it’s the bun that makes the difference in getting a cheesesteak in Philly and a replica anywhere else. Pat’s bun seemed Italian and had a thin crunchy layer to it. The Wiz was light and not overbearing, the steak was thin-sliced and juicy but not dripping like an Italian beef sandwich you get in Chicago. One thing Pat’s offers that we didn’t see at Geno’s was a pepper bar, with both the round Italian and what looked like thin Thai peppers, as well as mustard and catsup squirt bottles. I slid in a couple of the Italian peppers which was a nice addition of texture and flavor.

Now the Geno’s cheesesteak: the bun is also Italian in style with three slits in the top. The bread was soft but didn’t give when you bit into the sandwich like the Pat’s version did. The amount of Wiz was slightly less than Pat’s, and the meat was more prominent. Garth and I both agreed the meat had more flavor to it, as if beef stock was added during cooking.

In the end it was close, but Garth and I agreed Geno’s edged out Pat’s slightly due to the flavor of the meat. We’ve heard there are better cheese steaks in Philly, and that may very well be the case, but that will have to be a future throwdown which both Garth and I are eager to take on.

Getting There

Geno’s Steaks
1219 S. 9th St.
Philadelphia, PA 19147

Pat’s King of Steaks
1237 E. Passyunk Ave.
Philadelphia, PA 19147

Both open 24/7, cash only.

Thanks for subscribing to this blog! Copyright © 2005-2012 Andrea Meyers: making life delicious.

The alarm went off at 6 am, but I really didn’t need it as I’d hardly slept a wink. I was too excited and my body clock went off at 5 am, though I managed to coax myself into a few more minutes of sleep. Breakfast was just a glass of milk, not enough to fill me up but just enough to stave off the hunger pangs and last minute dashes to the ladies room.

My new dress shoes felt comfortable enough until I started briskly walking the streets of New York City, then I began to wish I had worn my nice fuzzy LL Bean Comfort Mocs instead. They aren’t nearly as cute but so much more comfortable and warm. My toes were freezing as I stood in line outside the studio building and grew numb as the wait stretched on.

The whole process of getting into the building and going in and out of the studio was very precise and organized, not that I would expect anything less from The Martha Stewart Show. Organizers allowed a few people at a time into the building and through check-in and security, then as we passed into the waiting room, more people came in.

The waiting area filled slowly with audience members, and as I took my camera out to snap some photos, I realized my battery was almost dead. I’d obsessed over the rest of the details of the trip but forgot to charge the camera battery, so I quickly found an outlet in the room and plugged in, hoping to get enough juice to last through the morning.

While waiting for the call to go into the studio, I had time to chat with Tami (Running with Tweezers), her friend Shameeka (The Broke Socialite) and Jennifer (In Jennie’s Kitchen). I love these gals, they are so nice and down to earth.

When it was time to start moving into the studio, we were called in groups based on a symbol on our ticket, and Jennifer and I had both had the same symbol so we went in together. The process was very orderly, and as we walked into the studio various people wearing headsets asked how many were in our group then directed us to seats in the audience.

The audience organizers placed us in the back row, just in front of the sound and light booths. I guess they thought Jennifer and I would be trouble makers.

I spent a number of years performing in and working on community theatre productions, so I was as geeked about the set, lights, and cameras as I was about seeing the show and Martha herself. The set is laid out with a prep kitchen on stage right, then the show kitchen, a craft area, and finally a room filled with beautiful plants on stage left. The ceiling is covered with all kinds of lights, including many soft boxes, and as I studied the camera layouts I started wondering about getting a couple soft boxes to help with lighting in our dark kitchen.

The kitchen had some gorgeous appliances and I really wanted to sneak in there and fix lunch after the show. Do you think they would have let me? Um, probably not, but a girl can always hope.

Once the audience was seated, Joey Kola, the warm-up guy started working the audience. He’s quite a hoot and it was a lot of fun to watch him.

I enjoyed watching the bloggers do their thing: Pim (Chez Pim) made pad Thai, Jeff (Jeff and Martha) learned how to frost a cake, and Andrew (Martha Moments) made yarn cards. The audience hoped for some samples of the pad Thai and orange cake, but alas we were denied. One lucky blogger, Brianna Campbell (Hire Me Martha), had the opportunity to spend a day working with the Art Department.

After the show, Martha came forward and took some questions from the audience.

All the fashionistas took note of her snazzy YSL strappy pumps with ultra long heels. I would have fallen flat on my face in those shoes, but she carried them off well, even propping her leg up on the craft table later during the Q&A session so the audience could get a good look. (I captured that moment on video but have had technical difficulties getting a screen capture from the video, so will add a photo here once I sort that out.) (Photo added January 23.)

After the show was over, Jennifer and I had lunch at a noodle shop on 30th Street (the name escapes me, but the food was pretty good), then we parted and I got ready to return to DC. The bus ride was quiet and relaxing, a good time to transition from my little vacation to the bustle of family life.

Can you tell I had fun? I had a fantastic time and would do this again in a minute.

You can view the episode online at the Martha Stewart website (The Martha Stewart Show – The Blog Show).

UPDATE: The Martha Stewart website published a list of all the bloggers who were in the audience.

Thanks for subscribing to this blog! Copyright © 2005-2012 Andrea Meyers: making life delicious.

Martha Stewart is doing another show on blogging tomorrow and I’ll be in the audience along with many other bloggers. I am thrilled for the opportunity to see Martha in person and to meet more bloggers that I follow. Pim will be on the show making her famous pad Thai (I hope there will be enough for the audience) and other bloggers will make appearances as well.

Though I’ve been to New York City twice before on business, those trips did not allow time for sightseeing. Each time I left the city with a longing to return and explore, to see some of the places that capture my imagination. Today, ten years later, I finally got to do a little of that.

I spent the afternoon wandering around Chelsea and a bit of the Flatiron District and taking photos of the Flatiron Building, one of my favorite New York landmarks.

I had hoped to have time to visit the Guggenheim Museum and indulge in more architecture and art, but that will have to wait for another trip.

Of course getting some lunch was an important goal, and I set off to find Co.,  Jim Lahey’s pizza restaurant. New York Magazine ranked Lahey’s pizza at #4 in the city, and knowing of Lahey’s legendary breads I couldn’t pass up an opportunity to try his pizza. He makes thin crust Napolitano-style pizzas with beautiful ingredients such as chestnuts, lardons, quail eggs, and honshimeji mushrooms. The pizzas are all about 11 inches in diameter, just enough for two people if you order a salad and appetizer to go along with the meal.

The restaurant seats about 50 people and has several long tables for bigger groups. I seated myself at the bar and took my time perusing the menu, trying to decide if I wanted to just order a pizza or order a starter and take some of the pizza home tomorrow so Michael can have a sample. I chose the appetizer of the day, a bowl of sliced beef that had been slow-cooked in a wine sauce until fork tender with slices of Lahey’s famous bread on the side for dipping. The flavor was hearty and slightly sweet from the wine, and the marbled meat melted in my mouth. The bread soaked up the flavors in the broth and I found myself swirling the bread around the bowl to get the last drops.

The roasted cauliflower pizza caught my eye, as well as the meatball, but in the end I decided on the flambé pizza with béchamel, parmesan, buffalo mozzarella, caramelized onions, and lardons.

I’m not typically a béchamel fan but the lure of a white pizza and the lardons drew me in. The pizza was quite rich, and the saltiness of the lardons actually saved it from being overwhelmingly rich. The crust had that wonderful crispiness and slightly smoky flavor you would expect from a good Napolitano pizza, and if I lived in NYC I would probably become a regular at Co.

And yes, I saved some to take home to Michael.

[I purchased the meal and received no compensation of any kind for writing this post.]

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