Everybody Loves Saturday Night

sometimes a cigar comes with spinach and goat cheese

We don't really celebrate Valentine's Day. But it just so happens that our first date was on February 14, which makes today our 3-year anniversary. Michael works tonight, so we celebrated last night. I got flowers

that were supposed to be delivered today, and were supposed to be a surprise. But the company called me yesterday morning to find out when I'd be home and--most likely due to an overbooked delivery schedule today--delivered them around 6:00 last night.

And then we went to dinner.

Oh, the dinner! There's a new restaurant in town, on our block (which has its fair share of restaurants--one on each corner, one directly across the street from us, plus a pizza place and a generic Chinese place, the kind that are on every block here, that all have the same photos and menus--you know what I mean, not to mention the handful of restaurants on the surrounding blocks. And it's all GOOD food too, for the most part. I love this neighborhood) that I've been looking forward to trying out ever since the "coming soon" sign went up, advertising organic French Moroccan tapas. Hello. Yes, please.

The restaurant, Kif*, is gorgeous in every way. The decor is luscious, with soft plushy coral-red cushions and beautiful beaded lamps. We were greeted by the chef as we walked in. The staff was friendly, charming, helpful. And the food was spectacular. We ordered five small plates: pita and hummus (I can't say for sure, but I think the pita was baked on premises. I could be wrong), spicy merquez, light and flavorful falafel,  and my personal favorites: a phyllo cigar filled with spinach and goat cheese, and a chicken briouat--a triangle-shaped pastry filled with shredded chicken, served with a raisin yogurt. Just sublime. All the flavors meshed together delightfully.

But the dessert was really amazing. Rose petal creme brulee with a fig marmalade. One of the most exquisite desserts I've ever had.

It's ridiculously affordable, too.

We found out that they will be expanding their menu, and will be open for brunches soon. I believe we have found our new neighborhood go-to spot. I can't wait to go back.

* It's so new that there's no website yet. Googling "Kif" will yield an extensive list of websites about pot, because apparently "kif" is Moroccan slang for marijuana leaves mixed with tobacco. Me, I immediately went for the Futurama reference. Other websites I looked at claim that the word is derived from the Moroccan-Arabic for either "pleasure" or "perfect." Can anyone verify?

it was worth a shot

The naysayers were right: the keyboard doesn't work. So it's off to the Apple Store I go . . . or would be, if it weren't for this crap weather and threat of illness. Yesterday was gorgeous: hours of snow, full-bodied flakes alighting softly on my red coat as I walked home, accumulating on sidewalks, prompting the sweet sound of someone else shoveling, creating the illusion of absorbing all activity and noise and bringing, at long last, a winter's peace.

This morning it's raining. AGAIN. It'll take away all the loveliness of yesterday. If you saw this outside your window, would you want to go out?

Yuck.

Getting pictures up here is a two-computer process. I want to save the pictures to my Apple, but I can't resize them (need the keyboard to enter numbers) or rename them. So I save them, load them up on a flash drive, and bring them over to the laptop, where I can use Cellsea's rather excellent photo editor to resize and save. From there I can load them into Flickr and Typepad, but this is what I mean by it being a pain in the ass. Still, the blog needs pictures, so until I'm in possession of keyboard #3, this is how it'll have to be done.

By the way, I crocheted a pair of slippers the other day. You cannot deny their cuteness:

Plus, they're made of Jo Sharp's Silkroad Ultra, a wool/silk/cashmere blend, so they're as soft as they are dense and they are doing an absolutely brilliant job of keeping my feet cozy and warm.

Crocheting a sock-like structure had occurred to me before, but it always seemed complicated. Finally I realized that it couldn't be any more complicated than shaping is for a knitted sock; i.e., it wouldn't be complicated at all. I have a fondness for telling tentative knitters fearful that they won't be able to turn a heel or what-have-you, "it's just knitting. You know how to do that, you can do this." Turns out, same thing applies to crochet. I know how to single crochet--I can do this.

Didn't realize I could do it in a single day, so that was a bonus.

I basically followed this pattern for Mary Jane Slippers (Ravelry link), with several modifications so they'd fit my feet (my first attempt at a toe resulted in a tiny cup that only fit one of my toes). Interested parties can look at my Ravelry project page to see my notes (which won't make sense without the pattern). And then, clearly, I opted not to do the straps on these. The way the pattern is written, the straps are done separately and then sewn on. Too much sewing. So I went with a basic contrast single crochet trim. I love them, though I made them just a tad too big. I'm working on a second pair right now, to experiment more with sizing and a different way to do the straps.

rent this DVD

A few months ago, I noticed that Film Forum was showing a documentary on Helvetica, by Gary Hustwit. I really wanted to see it, for a couple reasons:

1. I love docs about stuff most people take for granted or don't notice at all.

2. Typeface fascinates me. A few years ago The New Yorker did an article on Matthew Carter, the man behind Verdana, and it's one of the better articles I've read in recent memory. (You can read an excerpt here.)

Reactions among the people I told, "I really want to see that documentary on Helvetica" were varied. Most people were bemused and/or skeptical. And I wound up not seeing it at the theater.

I watched it last night, and it's as interesting and fascinating as I'd hoped. Helvetica is a corporate type, used by Crate & Barrel, Target, American Airlines (which was, I learned, the first time someone put two words together as one word, AmericanAirlines), Toyota, IRS tax forms . . .and movie titles . . . and the NYC Subway signs. I learned the history behind Helvetica's creation and name, and learned that there are graphic designers out there who are as vehemently in support or against the ubiquitous use of Helvetica as knitters and crocheters are about the use of, let's say, acrylic.

It awakened the cultural critic that had been resting since I left academics, with discussions of the ideology of typeface and what Helvetica came to reflect, represent, and symbolize to several generations.

So I recommend it, especially to anyone who doesn't think about typeface or font ever. You may find some commentary really out there, but I guarantee it will change the way you think about signs, advertising, logos, and so on.

The movie website is here.

polishing the apple

I washed my keyboard yesterday.

After the coffee fiasco of last month, I adopted a wait-and-see attitude. Maybe, as a couple commenters suggested, once dry, the keyboard would function. I had my doubts, because as another frequent keyboard replacer noted yesterday, "once, a single drop of water--a single drop!--landed on my keyboard, and it stopped working." Apple keyboards are known for not being as resilient as PC keyboards. Still, if I could save $30...

And it did start to work again, albeit in a limited capacity. I could only use the left shift key. Some letters wouldn't cap unless Caps Lock was on. I couldn't copy, cut or paste using the keyboard, but had to use the menu. The arrow keys were useless; once pressed, all I would get is repeated periods until I pressed another key to stop it.

I decided to experiment, then. A couple other commenters had suggested that I put the keyboard in the dishwasher, citing this BoingBoing post. Again, most likely this works better for PC keyboards. And I don't own a dishwasher. But a fun email exchange with Chris made me realize two things: 1. the hot water here is certainly scalding enough and 2. how much more damage could I do, really?

I took pictures of the event, but it's a pain in the ass to work with images on the work PC (I have office window pictures stored up as well, plus some knitting and crochet pics). Suffice to say, until I can post them, that the before picture was of a grody keyboard, and once it emerged from the hot tub it was nearly pristine--a little wipe down and it looks good as new. Looks don't make it work, though. I'm going to let it dry for a couple days, rotating it to make sure all the trapped water on the back can escape, and then try it out. Bets, anyone?

color scheme

Previously, on ELSN:

I caught Crochet Fever and Ripple Madness and started a Soft Waves lap blanket out of Mission Falls 1824 Wool.

I also contracted MSD (Mitred Square Disease):

I was later seduced by the siren call of the Hexagon Blanket, and opted to use the Mission Falls for that, leaving me in want of yarn for the still-desired ripple afghan. Having been cured of MSD (the cure lies within the disease itself) and still in possession of waaaaaaay too much Baabaajoe's yarn . . .

Today's episode: Color Scheme Surprise

I restarted the ripple afghan last month, never got around to writing about it.

The lack of press on Ripple 2.0 was mostly due to feeling blocked as to where to go next, color-wise. I have a very wide selection of colors to choose from, and I didn't want to go the totally random route (too much of a control freak, I am--each time I picked a color without looking, I rejected it), but I also felt too overwhelmed by choice.

I decided then to take the question to you--present a few choices for the next stripe after the teal and have you tell me which one you liked best.

This was option 1:

Which I liked--that sunny yellow-orange was just the ticket to brighten up a dusky almost gloomy beginning. Plus, on yet another cloudy February day, I was looking forward to working with such a cheery color.

This was option 2:

Initially, I only made it this far before I had a strong negative reaction. The yarn was too orange, too fiery, much too bright against the mild teal. I hated it. But after I took this picture, I reconsidered. I had a WWKFD* moment and decided to make it through one pattern repeat to get a better sense of how the colors worked together.

By the time I'd finished working with the seriously blindingly bright orange, I could see what would happen next:

And I could see where to go after the green (my favorite of all the colors):

I'm so intrigued by how this happened, that by exploring my negative reaction to something I worked through my color block. I've had this happen with writing--where I was so averse to going a certain place in whatever it was I was writing, but as soon as I started I knew exactly what to do and how everything would come together. First time this has happened with yarn and color, though. It's worth remembering the next time I have a powerful reaction against something--that I should really step back and reconsider.

So I know where I'm going now, thanks, at least for the next few stripes. I'll let you know when I get blocked again.

* for the non-fiber/fabric workers among you, KF = Kaffe Fassett

pre-valentine's/anniversary dialog

Michelle: I love you with the red-hot passion of a thousand fiery suns.

Michael, in jest: and...?

Michelle: ... and cookies.

your order has been submitted

I'm going to run out of yarn on Starsky.

I finished the second sleeve last night, and out of the 12 skeins of Cadena I ordered I am down to two full skeins and two partial skeins. Small partials, less than 25% or so. I think the shawl collar alone will eat up at least two skeins, what with the deep ribbing and short rows.

KnitPicks.com's customer service is quite lovely. I called to find out if they still had any Mahogany from the dye lot I'd purchased, back in September or August. I knew it was a long shot, but it never hurts to ask, right? The rep I spoke with clicked a few times on her keyboard and told me that "they're currently pulling from a lot number ending in 76." Which is not what I bought, but she then said that I could request a dye lot in my order. There's no guarantee that they'll still have it, but again--never hurts to ask.

I ordered two extra skeins, then. I doubt that they'll still have what I need, but I am offering up a prayer to the Goddess of Dye Lots that the color won't be too far off.

And then . . . well, I was trying not to do this, but . . . it just seemed silly and fiscally wrong to pay shipping on a $10 order.

Here, once more, I give props to the glory that is my Ravelry queue. Because from it I found a sweater that I queued a while ago, thinking that I would make it for spring of 2008. The sweater is Veronik Avery's Dollar and a Half Cardigan, which I have seen--again, thanks to Ravelry--made with KnitPicks CotLin, a yarn I already know I like. I ordered 12 skeins (enough for the large size, plus an extra justincase) of the Moroccan Red. Yes, red. I know you're shocked.

So I need to reset the "no yarn bought in __ days" counter in my head. Ah, well.

must be february

The winter doldrums have set in. I need to remember my "february avenger" button on the right side of this page, but it's hard when it feels like it's been cloudy for weeks. It hasn't; I have the pictures to prove it. But it's like the gloomy dankness of the weather has taken up residence inside. I feel a little blah about everything today. Apartment, job, knitting, TV... none of these things incite either joy or pain, just resounding apathy. Blah.

Not that I don't have goals for this month. I plan on finishing Starsky and the Bird in Hand mittens, and that one pair of socks I started last month. Simple yet noble goals. I'm more than halfway through the last piece of Starsky before I can put it together and start on the collar. And then the belt loops. And then an endless belt. I better snap out of the blahs soon.

in which i copy jackie

I had to wait until my official photographer was able to take this picture, and then the best place to take the right picture was, as in Jackie's post, in front of a keyboard. Wristwarmers in action!

I am so happy they're done. I love wearing them. The pattern is inspired by the fingerless mitts that Billie Piper wears in the last episode of Doctor Who series 2--pattern here. I used stash yarn: "Feeling," by Lana Gatto, and US 4 needles. The only mods I made to the pattern was to extend the hand a bit more and add a couple rounds of K1P1 to the thumbs.

The eagle-eyed among you will notice a sliver of a face--an eye and a very pink ear--peering out from this picture. Is it clear what that is?

When I wrote the post about finding the sheep in a storefront window, I did not at that point own a pair of sheep pajamas.

Then I met up with Irene in Bay Ridge--first time I'd been to Bay Ridge!--for yummy Greek food and a shopping trip to Century 21 (to non-NYers: no, not the real estate place. "Century's" is like  TJ Maxx, with a wider selection of wares). I was looking for transitional clothing both professional and casual, but when I saw the sheepy pajamas I knew it was imperative for me to put my money where my mouth is. They are soft flannel and adorable. They say "sheepy time." They are awesome, and will most likely figure into more modeling shots.

Good thing I mostly work from home, where sheepy pajamas count as professional clothing.

B is for...

Bind off!

Michael shot this picture of me binding off the top of my now complete Rose Tyler Wristwarmers (pattern here, and Ravelry link).

The process of binding off is one of the main things — other than the completely different tools (duh) — that distinguish knitting from crochet. With crochet, you simply stop when you're done and "fasten off." There's something appealing about that, but it's also a bit anti-climactic. "That's it? I'm done now?"

Binding off may only appeal to truly die-hard process knitters, and I wouldn't call myself one, but I do love getting to the bind off point, because it means I'm in the last stretch, I'm rounding home, it's all smooth sailing from here, and a huge weight is lifted. It's the denouement of knitting — a necessary element of the story I've been crafting with yarn.

Or, in other words, it's like this: "Oh wow, I really AM going to finish something!"

(Then again, it really sucks if you're binding off and run out of yarn.)

I did complete the mitts last night, and I lurve them! but it is so dark and stormy out right now that it's not worth trying to take pictures of them. Tomorrow, tomorrow.