Archive: April 2008

When I hit Publish last Friday, I had a tiny fear that, upon reading about my fledgling fashion strategy and seeing what I thought to be the pinnacle of my outfit-assembly, the Internet would lash out and mock my well-intentioned plan and/or raise a critical eyebrow at my ensemble. But, no! Any Philistines kept their mouths shut, and all of you nice folks made your happy thoughts known! It warmed the cockles of my heart.

I got to thinking. When that happens when I am online, I usually IM someone to do a sanity check, and since this type of thinking involved clothes, I IMed Jen. She, who persuaded me to go for the chunky red necklace (”That’s what gift cards are for!”) and always has time to check out a link from an online retailer. So after all of this thinking and IMing, the two of us concluded that the Put Together Phenomenon should not be limited to one post and one picture — no! Allow us to introduce the Mission: Put Together Photo Pool!

[Cue spy theme music]

Your mission, if you choose to accept it, is to photograph your most put-together looks, both professional and casual. During the whole month of May, add those pictures to the pool and check out others’ ensembles for new ideas.

First off, let’s get it straight about what this pool is NOT:

• A forum to criticize others
• A source of pressure to appear to be 100% on the ball 100% of the time
• A motivator to go out and spend a lot of money

However, we do want the pool to be:

• A way to share and gather fashion tips
• A motivator to be thoughtful and creative with everyday looks
• Fun!

Starting tomorrow, your photos are welcome into the pool! If you don’t have a Flickr account, feel free to e-mail me or Jen with your pictures and any accompanying descriptions, and we will be sure to add them for you.

Personally, I am using this pool as a challenge to produce a couple of outfits each week that might be considered put-together, but without the purchase of any new items. I may need to adopt Laurel’s weekly planning system! On another note, I am terrible at taking self portraits, so I hope to brush up my skills there, too.

Can we accomplish this mission? I believe we can. Show us what you’ve got!

The casserole season is not over yet! Rain and clouds have pervaded the atmosphere, so the inhabitants of our house have no choice but to hunker down and nap. There is no desire to romp in the back yard or grill up a chunk of meat, and I get one last fling with my beloved baked pasta. For this occasion, I turned to a recipe for portobello lasagna I’d printed out after seeing Ina Garten make it in an episode of Barefoot Contessa.

Say what you will about Food Network, but I love it. I don’t love all of their “celebrity” chefs (Nigella, I’m looking at you), but I like to watch the cooking shows for any inspiration that might come. Heck, it’s just as fun to hear Jamie Oliver pronounce basil as “bazzle” and wonder just how many more low-cut tops Giada’s wardrobe department can find. Ina Garten is one of my favorites, second only to Alton Brown. I love how she doesn’t make food look overly styled or prissy, and she tells you if you really need that type of cheese before you go hunting down mountain goats for their curd. Despite my long-standing admiration for her, I’d never attempted one of her recipes before now, and I don’t know why I waited.

When we manage to make a dish that is truly outstanding, JG’s highest compliment is that he “would pay for this,” and mine is that I would serve it to my mother. When confronted with this meal, we would gladly invite my mother out to dinner and pay for this lasagna — that’s how good it was. The layer of Parmesan cheese made a crispy top, and the mushrooms played well off of the flavorful sauce that oozed out of the lovely strata of noodles. It was, yet again, a dish to make Kennett Square proud. Thank you, Ina, so very much.

Even better, I found the recipe to be pretty doable, even for a non-multi-tasker (in the kitchen, that is) who gets flustered easily. To save money, I used both full-size portobellos and what my supermarket charmingly calls “baby bellas,” and I was pleased with the overall effect. I have never actually made lasagna, so I found the process of layering noodles, sauce, and cheese to be labor-intensive, but the attractive levels of ingredients in the end were worth it. As I mixed up the sauce, I cocked an eye at the “1 tablespoon of salt,” but I reminded myself, “It’s Ina! Trust her!” and tossed it in. Later, I tasted the sauce and found it saltier than a driveway in a New England winter. What had I done? Ina, what is going on? I fretted while the lasagna baked in the oven, but upon first taste, my fears were allayed. The noodles had soaked up the sauce nicely, and everything was well-seasoned. How could I have doubted?

That said, Ina, what are you trying to do to me? A stick and a half of butter? Four cups of whole milk? A cup of Parmesan cheese? Sure, we got twelve servings out of our baking dish, but the accumulative fat effect is a bit ridiculous. Next time (oh, there will be one), I’m cutting the salt just a tad, and I’ll try to reduce the butter by half and thicken the sauce with cream cheese, as in my favorite fettuccine alfredo recipe. There is no small amount of guilt associated with eating the lasagna as is, but our fridge is filled with leftovers now, and we can’t very well throw it out. Our only recourse is to power through and bring in the lasagna for lunches this week. JG and I are willing to take one for the team.

The grill is on the patio, JG is wrapping up his spring-semester grad class, and I am fending off air-conditioning-induced frostbite at work, which can only mean one thing: spring is really upon us.

I’m aware that I’m in the minority when I say this, but I don’t really love spring. Its biggest offender is its unrelenting attack of allergies on my system, which are made only worse by spring showers, ostentatiously flowering trees, and my neighbors’ (and husband’s) infernal need to mow. I prefer cold-weather clothing, and I sweat at the drop of a hat, so the signs of oncoming humidity do not send me to rejoicing. The countdown until fall is on, and until then, I wither.

As if to add insult to injury, my beloved casserole is on the outs because no one wants to eat heavy food, much less heat up the entire house with the oven. I admit that the onslaught of fresh, sweet produce softens the blow a bit, but my cooking repertoire is sharply reduced once the oven is no longer a primary cooking vessel. Grilling makes for fast and tasty dinners, but it does not so much help out in the leftovers department.

To help assuage my yearning for the casserole, I’ve been hunting down recipes for pasta salads that will be my summertime replacement. We have two reliable dishes so far, but that is not nearly enough to carry us through. With that in mind, I tried out a tortellini-asparagus salad to go with hamburgers and hot dogs on Friday.

I chose this recipe because I liked how it used a stuffed pasta (substantial enough for a future lunch), and it seemed like the process was pretty intuitive: chop vegetables, cook pasta, blanch vegetables quickly, dress with vinaigrette, and chill. To be fair, the process was fine; however, I ran into a few mishaps of my own making:

• The salad is supposed to chill for 2-8 hours before serving, but since I was in no mood to whip up a quick pasta salad before heading out to work, I was under kind of a tight deadline when I got home. All told, the salad chilled for not even an hour, but I think that was fine. Next time, I will relegate this salad to a weekend project or delegate it to JG’s capable hands.
• I shortsightedly only bought one lemon, which was not nearly enough to produce the prescribed amounts of lemon zest or juice for the dressing. I am kind of indignant when lemon ingredients are not given in terms of lemons, which is a quantity I can understand when I am making my shopping list. Next time, I’ll go for at least two lemons.
• I followed the directions to use a screw-top jar to make the vinaigrette, only to realize that while a jar is good for shaking, it’s not good for measuring, so I had to eyeball a lot of things. Next time, I will probably just use a measuring cup and a whisk.
• When I didn’t have enough lemon juice, I topped it off with vinegar because I figured that acid is acid, so what the heck? The resulting dressing was only slightly lemon-flavored, but everyone agreed that they liked it better that way. I’m conflicted because I want to follow the recipe, but I tend to have a higher tolerance for lemony goodness than the common man. Next time, I might split the difference and use more lemon juice, but not as much as the recipe says.
• I neglected to taste the dressing before I splashed it all over everything, which induced a minor panic, so I would not recommend being so rash.

Nevertheless, JG declared this salad a keeper, and our two guests enthusiastically agreed. I’m glad to have a new, non-casserole dish in the recipe binder, and I have a hunch that this formula of tortellini and lemon vinaigrette will be accommodating to a variety of different vegetables once asparagus is out of season. With enough pasta salad (and allergy medication), I think I can manage to make it through spring.

(Recipe after the jump)

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Jen and I have had lengthy discussions via Gchat on how we aspire to be “put together.” It’s not that we want to be trendy or have expensive clothes, but we want to look as though our appearance is somewhat intentional and cohesive. We’ve talked about how our wardrobes seem run-of-the-mill and tired, but we don’t know what to do about it. We don’t think we qualify for a fashion makeover show, but we were missing something. Neither of us is totally brand-loyal (with the possible exception of Ann Taylor Loft), but we both believe that knock-offs are fair game, as long as they’re cute. Between finances and unsteady fashion sense, how do we achieve some sort of happy balance?

Lately, I’ve adopted a strategy that I think is helping me progress in this mission toward being put together. I’ve accepted the fact my wardrobe consists almost entirely of solids. I don’t know how to work with prints, and they usually seem too loud to me. I’m comfortable with solids, boring as they might be, so I’m going to stick with them. With a neutral base of clothing, I’ve slowly added in jewelry and shoes to add accent color, thanks to the help of gifts from Christmas and my birthday. Since the purchase is technically a present, I don’t feel as guilty about spending over $30 on a necklace, for example. I’ve found that I’m taking more risks than I normally would, and I figure that a turquoise necklace and flats can do a lot to liven up black pants and a gray sweater.

Yesterday, when I finished getting ready in the morning, I felt so proud of my outfit that I had to IM Jen: “I have to share with you how put together I feel today.” She cheered and made me describe the outfit:

• Black and white faux wrap dress: Ann Taylor Loft, bought with gift card last year
• Black cardigan: Gap, have had it forever
• Chunky cranberry necklace: Ann Taylor, bought with gift card
• Red patent leather flats: Bandolino, bought on sale in DC last summer

I felt cute and chic, like I had finally won a battle with print and color. I tend to err on the side of matchy-matchy, but the necklace and the flats weren’t the same shade of red, so I think I’m improving.

All of this is to say that maybe, just maybe, I have finally built a sense of personal style after foundering for several years. I don’t think I can manage yesterday’s level of put-togetherness every day, but it’s a start. Today’s ensemble is a leafy green top, a flared black skirt, pearl drop earrings, and a pair of paisley flats bought with — you guessed it! — a gift card during a “buy one pair of shoes, get the second half off” sale. I wish I had a long necklace (maybe black or silver) to wear with it, but that might have to wait until another gift card falls in my lap.