Month: June 2014

The TueDo List: Get Sized, Buy Some Bras, Feel Your Boobs & More

We were all about boobs this week, so why not carry that into the weekend? Get Fit A recent Women’s Wear Daily survey showed that 64 percent of women are wearing the wrong bra size. I believe that I am guilty, in spite of years of gentle reminders from a fashion blogger friend to figure it out already. (Her guide on how to get fitted is still the best thing I’ve read on the topic.) If you need some help with the measuring tape, there are plenty of places to go. In the NYC metro area, Brooklyn’s Iris Lingerie is an excellent place to get fit, as is the Upper West Side’s famous Town Shop, which has been sizing up women for more than 100 years (seriously). In the D.C area, I’ve heard nothing but good things about Coup de Foudre Lingerie. They even offer a free 30-minute bra makeover, so there is really no reason to procrastinate. If you’d like to start out online before you work with someone in person, Victoria’s Secret has a “Find Your Perfect …

Big Moments in My Big-Breasted History

Growing up in Florida in the ‘70s, everywhere I looked, boobs and bikinis. As my family was always at the pool or the beach, I just thought that bikinis were what most women wore, all the time. Laugh-In was on television, and seeing Goldie Hawn smiling and giggling in a red two-piece reinforced this. I was a tomboy and could have cared less what I wore. I did notice that boys, however, got away with wearing swim trunks (for reasons which eluded me). It all seemed so unfair. Of course karmically that meant that I would be blessed with that which I did not want: big boobs. My First I started to develop on the early side, and resisted bras for as long as I could. Finally, when I was about 10 years old, my mom trundled me off in the car to J.C. Penney in pursuit of the dreaded “training bra.” Mom took me first to Ladies’ Intimates to ask where to find bras for girls. A brassy-looking saleslady arranging merchandise in the corner yelled out …

Why My Cleavage is My Ultimate Accessory

In high school, my friend Steve nicknamed me “Cleavage.” Or, more accurately, “CLEEE-VAGE,” which he shouted down the hallway or across the cafeteria in his deep, booming voice. Sometimes he’d try to throw French fries into said crevice, which wasn’t hard to do as I often sported outfits that put my boobs on display. Over 20 years later, not much has changed, except that Steve and I have lost touch, nobody else has picked up the nickname, and I’ve gotten better at shopping for pushup bras. I still love to show off my cleavage any chance I get, meaning just about every day. Now, I should clarify: I’m not talking about a Kim Kardashian or even Christina Hendricks amount of cleavage — i.e., when a woman’s boobs are the only thing you see because they are totally front and center. Rather, I go for a less over-the-top look. It’s not about smushing my breasts together as much as it is about gently suggesting what the rest — what you can’t see — might look like. …

The 5 Bras Every Woman Must Own, Especially During the Summer

Remember when you were in your 20s and you could get away with wearing a black bra under a white t-shirt? Or when a loose, neon-colored strap sitting on your shoulder was all cute and sexy-like? Occasionally, I miss those days. But on the whole, I find that ill-fitted, notice-me-now bras make me seem like I’m trying to look younger than I am. Which I’m not. I’m pretty happy with my almost-40 status. And since the days that I spend not working from home usually involve an office, a potential or current client, or a combination of the two, I want to look presentable, stylish, maybe a bit edgy —  but professional nonetheless. This isn’t easy for women during a hot-as-hell summer, especially when it comes to bras. We’re down to wearing thin, as-cool-as-possible fabrics, so it’s a challenge to disguise a bulky bra or avoid unsightly shoulder straps. Securing our boobs in a way that’s appropriate, comfortable and properly fitted is no easy feat. But it is possible! It just takes a little brassiere …

Talking to My Mom about Her Breast Cancer, 40 Years Later

My mom got breast cancer in 1974 and survived. I feel incredibly lucky that she’s here, that’s she’s 76 years young, and that I have been afforded a lifetime with her. In fact, I feel so lucky, that I hardly ever think about it. Aside from her urging my sister and me to get annual mammograms (which, as dutiful daughters, we do), we never really talk about her cancer very much. So I thought, on the occasion of this issue, I would. Mom, how did you discover the lump? I discovered it in the shower. It was probably near the surface of my skin. It was hot to the touch, warm. My mother had breast cancer in 1954, so I was well aware of what it could be. But she survived that for a while, right? Well, it spread. Not extremely fast, but it spread into her lungs and brain and she died in 1963. So after you self-diagnosed it, what did you do next? I don’t remember much. I remember going to HUP (Hospital …

Front to Backlist

The Survivor and the Companion: Two Views into Breast Cancer

There are plenty of descriptions in books of boobs, breasts, bosoms, fun bags, melons, bazongas, nice racks and so on. However, there aren’t as many books devoted to them as a subject. Our female mammalian pectoral appendages, which take up so much of our time and male attention, don’t get taken seriously as often as they should. Until something goes wrong. While we’ve all laughed about our chest problems and protectors — the books that stay with me about breasts are the ones about breast cancer. And the best of the recent books about breast cancer is absolutely, positively A Breast Cancer Alphabet by Madhulika Sikka in which the author, a prominent DC news executive, details her experience with the disease. Diagnosed in 2010, Sikka had access to the best information and services, but found she still had questions, anxieties, fears, joys, highs and lows. Hers is not the story of a warrior in pink or a victim in denial; it’s a real, modern woman’s honest, open record of what really happens when your secondary …

Margit’s Note: Are You Wearing One?

  Born free “Are any of us wearing bras?!” Back when we’d publish TueNight in the mornings (until we realized, “hey this thing is called TueNIGHT, we should probably launch AT NIGHT), Susan, Adrianna, Kat and myself would often segue bleary-eyed from bed to coffee to laptop at 7 a.m. without ever strapping in. Ok, TMI. But you know you do it too, when you can. Plumber shows up, we’ll just pile on that zip-up hoodie. Or not. Scandalous. Even Susan — who has fantastic bra advice this week — admits to dashing to the drugstore bra-less. Then there’s Adrianna who got married sans bra. We love our girls — harnessed or free. Sometimes these strange appendages bug us, sometimes we flaunt them shamelessly. They can offer nourishment or a great deal of pain. Extreme satisfaction or utter embarrassment.  And occasionally, we forget they’re even there. This week we’re circumventing the globes. (Sorry.) Sex author Rachel Kramer Bussel dresses up and for her cleavage. Amy Barr debates an enhancement. Susan Linney tells us which bras …

The TueDo List: Hiking, Lloyd Dobler, Exercise, TV and Ice Cream

Loved them, left them — but you’ve still got the weekend. What’s a girl about town to do? Here’s what. Get Moving It’s a statistically proven fact that summer is the best time for a break up. I just made up that statistic, but I’m standing by it. Because distractions! There are so many of them, and the weather gives you no reason to stay in your house and sulk. So grab a friend who owes you an ear from her own love tragedy and hit a hiking trail near you. Nature is so good for you, and you’ll also be too tired to cry at the end of the day if you walk enough or take a tough route. TrailLink from the Rails to Trails Conservancy is a great guide to local trails nationwide, as is AllTrails, compiled by National Geographic, which include difficulty ratings, elevations, user reviews and photographs. Remember Lloyd Dobler Say Anything’s Lloyd Dobler set the bar pretty high for all future paramours. It’s still my go-to flick when I need to remember that …

10 Things I Learned From Creating a Break-Up Bucket List

In late 2012, I had a milestone birthday and my long-term relationship of nine years ended. I had met my ex within weeks of moving to London from New York and so most, if not all, of my life in London had revolved around my relationship. I loved my life and partner tremendously and was hit hard by the break up. Knowing I could easily spend years in bed wallowing over my loss, I realized that I needed to keep myself busy. Looking back on my own role in the failure of the relationship, I discovered that I had completely lost sight of who I was — separate from being in a couple — and vowed never to do that again. I decided that I wanted to live the next stage of my life differently, so I made a list of things that I’d been meaning to do over the past few years but never quite found the time. Some were things that I’d never done, others were things that I hadn’t done in years and …

Our Sad and Funny Last Night Together

We’ve all had a relationship that should have been over long before it actually was — the kind that had been running on fumes or suddenly became fueled by anger rather than love. That describes the last months of my last serious relationship before I met my husband. Despite the fact that there had been great attraction and affection for the four-plus years that we were together, my then-boyfriend and I eventually both knew it should end, but neither knew how to pull the plug. So the plug pulled itself. On our last night together, we attended the wedding of a mutual friend at the St. Regis Hotel in New York. It was a fancy affair, with endless champagne and other mind-altering substances flowing freely. I suspect we were both trying to push our unhappy reality out of our heads as we partied for hours and then stumbled upstairs to the room we’d booked. It was a long, long night. He felt awful and I felt worse. The next morning, I literally crawled to the …

The Two-Sided Story of a Break Up

“When we were good, we were really good,” my ex told me recently. Occasionally, we still talk via text message. Usually sparked by a glass of wine (or three) on my end; a happy hour on his. So, I texted him back with a simple emoticon smile. Do I miss him? Of course. Just as I might miss a long-lost friend. He was dear to me; my bestie. I often say that. I miss my friend and I mean it. During this particular chat we make Beltway jokes. I can feel his smile and remember the way he used to sit next to me at a restaurant bar. His arm wrapped around the back of my chair as he leaned in and beamed. Everything was an inside joke and by the end of the evening the bartender was a member of our secret club. These bits of nostalgia (the ones where I am smiling and not crying while watching Love Actually) are far from how things ended. I was 24 at the time and like …

Shop TueNight! Nestle Into One of These Cushions

Whether you’re getting over a break-up, happily co-mingled or satisfied and single, we all need a little comfort in our lives. Or a pillow to bawl into. We get it. But even if you’re not a teary mess, why not devise your own pillow-filled happy place/ reading nook — especially as we cozy up with our weekly batch of TueNight stories. (No, that wasn’t shameless.) To that end, we’ve assembled some of our favorite, most delightful “Maker” pillows in our TueNight Shop on GREAT.LY. By the way, tomorrow is the very first White House Maker Faire day and the first National Day of Makers (#NationofMakers), so this is just another wonderful way to support great artisans and this very site you’re reading right now. Here are a few fabulous items, but click to explore more in the TueNight store!   Khaki linen and gray velvet pillow cover by Therese Winnard, $100 Aztec Arrows pillow by Hannah Holtkötter, $24 Sheepskin throw by Black Sheep, White Light $79 Cushion “Stockholm” by Marika Giacinti, $95 Amini linen yellow pillow sham by Hallie Gray, $54  …

Could I Remain Friends with My Ex?

For my entire adult life, breakups have been horrible, often occasioned by infidelity and replete with things said that can’t be taken back. Merely mentioning the names of some of my exes often triggers a level of revulsion usually reserved for serial killers. And I’ve never remained friends with my exes. I have plenty of friends. Why pretend to still be civil to someone who hurt me? Ending my marriage was no different. Although cheating was not the cause of our separation, there was too much bad blood between us for my ex and I to maintain even a semblance of friendship. We tried co-parenting, but ultimately, it has been easier to go it alone than to try to force a co-parenting relationship on my ex, or — more importantly — on my kids. When I finally started dating again, five years after my divorce, my first serious post-divorce boyfriend seemed to be the complete package. My boyfriend was kind, considerate, and intelligent. When he wasn’t talking about black history, politics, or sports, he would …

10 Songs to Get You Through That Breakup (Using Kubler-Ross)

An epic breakup deserves an epic playlist, but here’s the problem. Like the beautiful, delicate snowflake that is new love, every sordid, sad split is unique. There are the breakups we caused, the breakups that crushed us, the breakups we sort of suspected were coming from the first date. And within each of the hundreds of different kinds of breakup playlists, there are special songs whose opening notes make only one person gasp in pain — the song that perfectly describes his strong shoulders, her tangled hair, or was the song the two of you heard that one time when you were at that one place you used to go (and now you’re choking back a sob again). So putting together a ten-song breakup playlist is very much like that relationship slated for failure from the get-go: I can’t know I’ll get it right. But using the Kübler-Ross model of grief as our rough guide, we’ll start with the wallowing, move next to resignation, and finally progress to a hearty (if fake for now) pledge …

Margit’s Note: It’s Splitsville

We’re done. Can I have my keys back? No CDs to divide this time, just digital memories. (Cue the song “I thought you were my boyfriend,” by The Magnetic Fields, on an endless loop.) Maybe we had something, once. I’ll mail you the rest in a brown box. Just give me one last look. This week, it’s not you, it’s us. We’re breaking up, disassembling and remembering how we got through the pain. We’re reminded [clears throat, juts finger into the air] that the love of self has to come before all else. Even if you’re in a blissful relationship, as writer Ali Burns notes, you gotta “do you” to keep any relationship healthy. This week: Ali Burns spends a year embarking on a Break-Up List. Lauren Young gets a Jewish Divorce. Susan Linney sees her exes everywhere. Carolyn Edgar drifts into friendship. Amy Barr parts with laughter. Heather Barmore sees both sides. Nancy Davis Kho gives us the playlist And we have a shop full of comforting pillows. No, really. And remember, in the words of …

The TueDo List: Cool, Easy (Even Cheap!) Stuff to Do with Dad

It’s Father’s Day weekend, so dads are what it’s all about. Here’s what to do for him, with him — or both — this weekend. Movie Dad Sometimes simple is the sweetest, and and it’s possible that your dad may just be up for a movie date — whether it’s just with you, your kids, or the whole fam. Godzilla’s out there for the monster-movie fan, Spiderman and X-Men for your favorite superhero lover, and Grand Budapest Hotel for the father whose tastes are a little more eclectic. Don’t forget to treat him to dinner beforehand. If your dad is more of a homebody, there are Father’s Day deals on Roku, too. The top of the line version connects to more than 1,000 channels (including everything on Netflix) and works with Android and iPhone to turn those into streaming devices, as well. If your recipient is anything like my dad, make sure you throw in the hookup. (Roku.com, $40-90) Musical Dad Bonaroo — what could be termed the granddaddy of all current summer music festivals — …

How My Father Became the Mother I Didn’t Have

Father’s Day (and Mother’s Day). Ugh. For those of who have lost parents and aren’t parents, these days can really suck. And while we should be celebrating what we once had (assuming we had something wonderful), it’s hard not to wallow in their absence, and what we will never have again. I sometimes wish I believed in heaven or the afterlife or reincarnation. Seems like it would make things a lot more palatable, though probably not any easier. They’re still gone. Mom got sick when I was about 11 — I have very few memories of my life before she was diagnosed with breast cancer. Through chemo, hair loss, remissions and the returns of the beast, I was always afraid I’d lose my mom, but never really accepted that it would happen. There was a lot of sadness and dread and anger in my formative years, which resulted in life-long fear of abandonment, as well as depression and codependence. Add to that a father who wasn’t really around. He was busy starting his own small business, …

Matchbook Dad - Pop

Matchbook Dad: A Life of Lucky Strikes

When my parents downsized last year, moving into a smaller cottage house, my Dad handed me three giant plastic baggies of 200+ matches he’d collected over the years. “You can probably figure out something to do with these,” he said. And when I saw those matches, I saw stories — a lifetime of traveling, memories and moments. My Dad has been collecting matches since he was an eight-year-old kid in Hatfield, Pennsylvania. Becoming an Air Force captain in the ’60s, he traveled all over the world while he was stationed in Wiesbaden, Germany, and, later, as a water utilities executive  in the U.S. So, like many, he snatched up these free, end-of-the-meal souvenirs — here and abroad. “Everyone smoked back then so there were always matchbooks at the hotel checkout desk, in restaurants,” Dad says. “I started collecting them for no particular reason,” he pauses. “Well, looking back on it maybe sentimental reasons.” Each matchbook jogs a memory for my dad, like a physical diary entry and a window into his past. Here are bits from …

A Shop for Pop — Our Special Boutique on GREAT.LY

TueNight has a boutique! As we announced a few weeks ago, we now have a shop on GREAT.LY. It’s chock full of original style, substance, baubles, kid stuff and the quirky goods you’d expect from us — all by our own curated “makers” who handcraft goods from all over the world. This week, we’re debuting a “Shop for Pop” to help you find a groovy item, perfect for Dad. By shopping TueNight on GREAT.LY, you’re also helping to support this site — we make about $30 month on that ad you see to the left, and that sure isn’t enough to support us. If you love the content you read on TueNight and want to help us make it better — share the site, tell your friends and do a little shopping. Here are a few of the goodies in stock: Retromarine Stylish Parrots Swim Shorts, $70 Mad Men Offices Floor Plan — Handrawn Fantasy Floorplans by Brandi Roberts    John Rousseau Solid Walnut Chopping Block with Maple Ends, $250   Aster & Bay Grooming Oil with …

Borrowed From the Boys: Me in My Dad’s Jacket

The photo above was taken of me when I was about four or five. My mom and dad were getting ready to go out for the night, and I wanted in on the action. Which is when I threw my dad’s jacket on over my housecoat and announced that I was coming with them. If I remember correctly, I also had my mother’s silver silk pumps on at this time, but you can’t see them in the photo. This makes sense because I was always trying to walk around the house in my mother’s shoes. The desire to wear men’s jackets stuck with me at that point. I’m always buying men’s jackets and blazers and having them tailored to fit me. As a curvy, duck-billed platypus version of both my parents (I have my paternal side’s hourglass torso with a long waist, I have the maternal side’s long, lean limbs), buying women’s blazers right off the rack is really hard for me. Which is why you always see me at thrift stores, nabbing men’s jackets …

Front to Backlist

Two Books About the “Other” Parent

Do fathers matter? I’m a woman married to a man who is the father of our two children, so I have an answer to that question (indubitably yes!), but that doesn’t mean my sample audience is one of proper scientific breadth or depth. Fortunately, someone else has asked that question, and answered it with good strong research. Do Fathers Matter? What Science Is Telling Us About the Parent We’ve Overlooked by Paul Raeburn is filled with anecdotes about how and why fathers matter in the lives of boys and girls. It’s a book whose time has come. I’ve grown so weary of the term “mommy blogger” and its attendant connotations of maternity as all encompassing and all powerful. (And yes, I acknowledge that many of the best “mommy bloggers” acknowledge and celebrate their male and female co-parents; I just wish more of them did so.) If we truly desire a third wave of feminism, one that encompasses all humans, then we need to examine what male parents (straight and gay and trans) bring to the …

Chef Dad - Pop

Chef Dad: How My Husband Won My Heart and My Kids’ Stomachs

  On our third date, Andrew cooked me an incredible dinner: leg of lamb, roasted asparagus and crispy potatoes. It was truly impressive. Years later, he told me that he learned to cook because it was a good dating move. I might have felt played, but I like eating well just a tad too much. So, I not only let him cook for me regularly, I married him. Fast forward to when our first son was 3 ½  years old. He went to a preschool friend’s house for a play date and stayed for dinner. (If you’re thinking woo hoo, what a break for Wendy, think again. We had a 1 ½ year old and an infant at home.) I picked Davis, my oldest son, up at about 7:00 pm and, as always, he was full of stories! What a great reporter he was. So, chat, chat, chat… and then, “Mom. Guess what? It was so weird at Daniel’s house.” “Really, what was weird?” (You can only imagine where my thoughts were headed.) “When we …

TueNight Pop

Margit’s Note: Hiya Pop

We’re all about Pop this week. And we don’t mean our daily can of carbonated fizz. We’re talking about dear old Dad. Corny jokes, clutch advice (from boys to business), military-length pants, the same haircut since he was 10, stirred vodka martinis (sorry Bond), someone to aspire to. In this day and age of mommy bloggers, Dads get an underrated rap — as Bethanne notes in her piece this week. Dads, of course, are half of what made us. Some of us struggle with that father-daughter dance — we all do at one time or another. Maybe he was “the fun one” Maybe he was there every day. Maybe he wasn’t there at all. And many of us don’t have a father anymore to ring up on the phone to just say, “Hey there Dad, watcha doing?” We don’t take that for granted. We just love em. This week: Dad and I chat about life — via his matchbook collection. Jody Jones recalls how her dad stepped up after her mom passed away. Kristin Booker borrows …

The TueDo List: Donut Day, BBQ, Tasty Reads + Chef, The Movie

Looking for some tasty things to do this weekend? Read–and eat–on.   Today is National Donut Day! Today, Friday, June 6, is National Doughnut Day, which is a holiday I can fully support. I knew that Krispy Kreme was hooking customers up with a free doughnut to celebrate, because my mom keeps reminding me. Dunkin’ Donuts will also hook you up if you buy a drink, and so will a few other fried dough purveyors across the continent. And if you feel like going doughnut DIY? Stacie Billis from One Hungry Mama did a roundup on Cool Mom Picks of eight easy doughnut recipes that–she swears–you can make at home. She even throws in some pan recommendations so you’ll have the perfect doughnut-making gear.   Mid-Atlantic Barbecues It’s a big weekend for barbecue in the Mid-Atlantic region. The 12th Annual Big Apple Barbecue Block Party comes to New York City, with several pitmasters from NYC joined by competitors from as far away as Texas and Mississippi. Meanwhile, the Beltway BBQ Showdown hits the Prince George’s County suburbs …

Tasty Life: You Gotta Meet My Girl, Za’atar

Try defining the word “tasty.” Can you do it objectively? Even word arbiters have trouble being impartial — one of the Merriam-Webster entries defines tasty as “having a good flavor.” Good according to whom?  When it comes to matters of the palate, there is no boss of you. There’s no right or wrong answer, and my “tasty” may be worlds apart from yours (especially if it involves a half-inch of jarred mayonnaise in between two pieces of white toast). Who am I to judge if white goop makes your world spin? As my father — who passed more than 30 years ago — used to say, “That’s why there’s vanilla and chocolate, Kimberly.” Tasty is the truth — as you know it — Ruth, and no matter how much our respective versions of the truth may vary, we all are in its pursuit. A life without tasty seems like a life half-baked, after all. To that end, and because I spend most of my waking hours in the pursuit of flavor, I will be sharing …

My Mac and Cheese Obsession (And a Recipe To Die For)

Oh, your curves: I trace them with the tip of my tongue. Your milky pale form, your creaminess. I close my eyes and nibble, just a bit. And then I shove a giant spoonful into my mouth. Oh mac and cheese. I objectify it like a really fine, tan Southern man from Tennessee wearing nothing but cowboy boots and a Four Roses Bourbon t-shirt. Mac and cheese is good even when it’s bad. Kinda like French fries and sex. [pullquote]Drop it on the ground and I will eat it. I will use either the five-second rule or the five-hour rule if that makes you feel better.[/pullquote] You see, being a mac and cheese aficionado does not make me a mac and cheese snob. If you’re one of those Velveeta haters, stop reading right now. That shit is not from this earth whatsoever, but many cooks agree it’s essential to an amazing, creamy dish. I’m easy like Sunday morning when it comes to mac and cheese recipes. I don’t care what kind of cheese is used …

My Saturday as a Smorgasburg Vendor OR How I Stumbled into a Second Career

Last Christmas I gifted my co-workers with some of my homemade granola — a mixture of  oats, groats dried fruit (apricots, golden raisins, dried cherries and more), sunflower seeds, chopped almonds, walnuts and sweetened with a hint of maple syrup and honey. I’d just started making it as a hobby. They devoured it and asked me for more. One of the partners at the restaurant where I work (I’m a manager at Blue Ribbon Sushi) wanted to sell it, so we collaborated, and voila! My own line of Granola. After only a few months, it made the Best of New York. This was fast turning into a second career! I finally gave it a name — Dailola, a combination of my two rescue dogs’ names, Dailo and Lola (you’ve seen their photos here on this very website) — and a portion of the proceeds is donated to New Spirit Australian Shepherd Rescue. And now, every Saturday, I sell my granola at Smorgasburg in Williamsburg, Brooklyn’s 100-vendor food fest. Somehow, in addition to my day job, I manage to squeeze in …

Taco Tuesday: A Spicy, South of the Border-Style Tradition

Taco Tuesday is a tradition in warm weather climates (and beyond) across America. It’s an excellent excuse to kick back with a margarita and chow down on a quintessential Mexican food staple. Since I’m from Arizona (and half-Mexican), tacos are comfort food, celebration food, a simple dinner during the week and part of a fiesta of dishes for weekend dinner parties. In other words, there’s always a good time for tacos. The contents of my fridge center around this principle: At any one time, I can rustle up two things: homemade chicken noodle soup and tacos. Whether it’s for illness or dinner, I’m prepared. This means that a homemade roasted chicken (or store bought rotisserie chicken) features prominently in the line-up every couple of weeks so that I can cook the carcass for soup and freeze the leftover chicken meat for tacos or enchiladas. There is generally a packet of organic ground beef in the freezer as well. One of the great pleasures in life is preparing and sharing a good meal with good people. …

10 Songs to Whet Your Appetite

There’s nothing like hunger to get a starving-artist songwriter thinking. At least I think that’s true, based on the sheer number of songs dedicated to culinary delights, real and imagined. Herewith a playlist of tasty-sounding songs that celebrate all things scrumptious. 1. Church by Lyle Lovett You shouldn’t start a meal without a moment of gratitude for the labor of those who made it possible, so we’ll start with a Texas prayer that celebrates gospel, country cookin’ and comedy. Lovett’s trapped in a church service where the preacher just won’t wrap up the sermon and let the congregation get to all the deliciousness that awaits it in the parish hall. So he takes matters into his own hands. The message: Even God wants you to get some of that good cornbread. 2. Black Coffee in Bed by Squeeze Technically coffee’s not breakfast, but when all you have left is a stain where your love’s coffee cup once was, well, maybe that’s all you feel like eating today. Though I’ll point out that many a strained …

Feeling Your Eats: Memoirs Chronicle Life With Food

I once wrote an entire blog post about the difference between “memoirs with recipes” and “memoirs, with recipes.” It’s the latter that I prefer, books in which recipes are not the main course, but a sweet lagniappe appended to excellent, incisive writing. So when I learned that this week’s TueNight theme was “Tasty,” one book sprang immediately to mind: Blue Plate Special: An Autobiography of My Appetites by novelist Kate Christensen, which was recently released in paperback. In her prologue, Christensen (The Epicure’s Lament, The Great Man), says: “Food is a subterranean conduit to sensuality, memory, desire, but it opens the eater to all of it without changing anything.” To change something through eating requires the eater to connect the conduit to its source — and that can be painful. No wonder Christensen’s first included recipe is called “Dark Night of the Soul Soup.” All of her appetites are addressed in Blue Plate Special, including those a lesser artist might have chosen to discreetly gloss over, like her adolescent fumblings towards domestic normalcy in a …