Wednesday, May 13, 2015

New on Netflix: Anita

I was in high-school when Anita Hill was forced into the national spotlight during the confirmation hearings of Supreme Court Justice nominee Clarence Thomas.  I don’t remember much about her other than the strange juxtaposition of a beautiful woman with perfectly curled hair and language about pubic hair in a Coke can. 

Anita: Speaking Truth to Power begins with a surreal voicemail recording of Clarence Thomas’s wife, Virginia Thomas, asking Anita Hill for an apology. It then backtracks to shed light on Anita Hill's personal history and the confirmation hearings.

Born the youngest of thirteen children in rural Oklahoma, Anita Hill worked her way through Yale Law School and later became the first tenured law professor at The University of Oklahoma College of Law.  When George H. Bush nominated Clarence Thomas to the Supreme Court in 1991, part of the vetting process involved contacting people who had previously worked with him.  Anita Hill was one such person.  She reported that she was sexually harassed by Thomas when they worked together at the Department of Education and the EEOC.  Because Thomas had only been a judge for a year, his character was a particularly important part of the evaluation.


Anita Hill was brought before the Senate Judiciary Committee led by Joe Biden.  Some of the details of the harassment seem tame by today’s standards (this was B.C.- Before Clinton).  However, what is shocking is that there were some members of the committee who seemed to get a thrill out of asking Ms. Hill to describe what happened to her in the most salacious terms possible.  With her elderly mother sitting behind her, she was forced to talk about pornography and what Thomas said about the size of his private parts.   
Dirty Old Men
One of the most striking moments of the documentary was when Ms. Hill was asked if she was a “scorned woman” as if participating in the confirmation hearings was her idea.  Throughout it all, she demonstrated fortitude and dignity.   In one scene, at the end of the hearing she thanks the committee for their time and the look on her eyes is a haunting mix of defiance and defeat.



What is equally interesting was watching Clarence Thomas’s masterful refutation of the charges against him by referring to the hearings as a “a high-tech lynching for uppity blacks who in any way deign to think for themselves, to do for themselves, to have different ideas."  According to Thomas, the confirmation hearings were "a message that unless you kowtow to an old order, this is what will happen to you. You will be lynched, destroyed, caricatured by a committee of the U.S. Senate rather than hung from a tree.”  It's always interesting when blacks who deny the power of racism use it when they feel victimized.  The whole mantra of 'personal responsibility' goes out the window when they are in the hot seat.



Thomas was savvy enough to know that the Senate committee would be unwilling to look like racists. His lynching comment ended the hearings and Thomas was confirmed for Thurgood Marshall's spot on The Supreme Court.  The documentary goes on to describe how Anita Hill struggled to maintain a sense of normalcy in the aftermath of Thomas's appointment and later became an advocate for gender equality in the workplace.

Kerry Washington recently signed on to play Anita Hill in an upcoming HBO movie.  Watch this documentary first.

Sunday, May 10, 2015

Rachel's Mother's Day Sangria


White Peach Sangria

1 bottle white wine 
3 ounces brandy
2 ounces triple sec
1 cup orange juice
1 cup pineapple juice
2 ounces simple syrup (equal parts sugar and water brought to a boil for 2 minutes in a small saucepan) and cooled 
3 ounces white peach puree (peel peaches, remove pit and puree in a blender with a small amount of water)
Fresh peaches, oranges, and apples slices

Place all ingredients in a pitcher and stir. Refrigerate at least 8 hours or up to 48 hours. Serve over ice.

Recipe adapted from  Bobby Flay



That was some good Sangria!


Saturday, May 9, 2015

The Day of the Drones

My mother hates to have guests or strangers come into our house when it is not completely spotless.  I understood how she felt on Thursday when I was having dinner with Chloe at Chez Lucianne on 125th Street.  It was a warm spring evening, so Chloe and I decided to take advantage of the outdoor seating.  We sat down facing Lenox Avenue, but as soon as we ordered our drinks I began to regret that decision. 
The Mess is Hot!
The amount of trash on the street was surreal.  It was as if someone had turned the metal can on the corner upside down and let its contents fly free up and down the sidewalk.  Napkins, empty chip bags, water bottles, and the insides of blunts covered the street.  The black plastic bags ubiquitous in corner stores and bodegas were being blown to and fro like some kind of ghetto tumbleweed.   

On the corner, manchildren in the promised land used the ledge of Starbucks as a picnic table.  They watched women walk by in sundresses yelling after them, “don’t be mad because nobody said anything to you,” without realizing the irony of their words.  There was a man in all black, roughly the height and weight of Eric Garner, selling loosies and spitting onto the street as patrons enjoyed wine and cheese feet away.  I was alternately angry at him (didn’t he watch the news?) and empathic.  He was clearly suffering from seasonal allergies which made his breathing labored and his nose runny as he paced up and down the block opening his pack of Newports for dollars.
 
Black Power


There was definitely an entire cast of characters out on Lenox Avenue, and added to the drama were the European tourists and the bankers and lawyers who travelled uptown by train in order to go to Happy Hour at Red Rooster. They walked awkwardly from the train station toward the restaurant trying to appear at ease, as if they were confident that they were walking in the right direction.  They shyly acknowledged each other with nods and half smiles as strangers in a strange land often do. 

Because Chez Lucianne is right next door, it often gets the run-off from its trendy neighbor.  A middle-aged white couple, who seemed to have arrived early for their dinner reservation at Red Rooster, sits next to me and Chloe. As sirens blare and mothers usher children in charter school uniforms down the block, I try to listen to their conversation. The man is French and he asks the waiter about the squid.  An older man wearing a zoot suit and holding a camera hovers near our tables.  It is unclear whether he is photographer or a prop.  They declare him “great” but don’t pay him much attention.   A woman who is notorious for her aggressive style of begging approaches them at the table with her trademark, “EXCUSE ME, EXCUSE ME.”  Zoot Suit Man and I watch her, annoyed, hoping that we won’t have to step in if she goes to far.  She doesn’t ask us for money.

I am mortified.  I want to tell les blancs  to sit at one of the tables on the other side of the restaurant- the side that faces Red Rooster so that don’t have to see what I’m seeing.  And then I’m mortified with myself for being mortified. I tell myself that I don’t know these white people and I shouldn’t care what they think.  I can’t be mad at people for being poor.  What am I expecting?  That out of a sense of black pride, they would take their petty crime around the corner where people with money don’t have to look at them?  They were here first.

 In the midst my reverie, the man sitting next to us, turns to Chloe excitedly and says “look, there’s a drone!”  I turn in the direction that his finger is pointing and see it. Hovering in the area around Planet Fitness is a blue, black and white drone.   I ask Chloe if she knows what a drone is and she says “yeah, its like a flying robot camera.” She turns her profile toward it and smiles as she has been trained to do when there is a camera around.




Everyone on the block is mesmerized by it as it hovers, retreats, and then, almost flirtatiously zooms back into view.  The black market cigarette salesman sees it and asks, “what the fuck is that?” A FedEx worker who has just bought a Newport from him explains it.   Collectively, we are watching it watch us.  It is interesting that no one is frightened; no one assumes that it is a tool of terrorists.  We all suppose that it is the long arm of the law.  Officially, the NYPD does not use drones to police neighborhoods, but considering that it appeared right after a hail of sirens and police cars came down Lenox, I'm doubtful that it was anything but the police.   At first I was embarrassed that these white folks had come into a neighborhood that looked like a war zone, but then I realized that we should all be embarrassed by a country that treats its own citizens as inhabitants in an occupied territory.



**Sidenote: The Day of the Drones is the name of a really good Science Fiction novel about a futuristic society in which blacks may be the only survivors of a nuclear disaster.




Wednesday, May 6, 2015

Dish: The Handpulled Noodle and Streetbird

I am lucky that Chloe has an adventurous palate.  On Saturday we had South African food at Madiba, and on Sunday we decided to try "North Western Chinese Soul Food" at  The Handpulled Noodle on Broadway between 148th and 149th Street. 



Located between a Dominican barbershop and a tattoo parlor, The Handpulled Noodle is small and frequently crowded with with locals and food tourists alike. You pick a style of noodle and then decide whether you would like it prepared in soup or stir fried with meat and vegetables.  Patrons are encouraged to eat their food in the restaurant in order to appreciate the unique taste of the handmade noodles.  

Chloe and I ordered scallion pancakes, pork dumplings, and chopped noodles with chicken and mixed vegetables.  The scallion pancakes were nothing that you couldn't find at Emperor Schezuan.  The dumplings were better, juicy and flavorful inside,  with no need for a separate dipping sauce.  The noodles were rich and spicy, but Chloe thought that they were too doughy.  The food was pretty heavy so I wouldn't frequent this place, but the Lychee Pekoe Black Tea was worth going back for.

Lychee and Chrysanthemum Tea
Ding Dong Noodles with Chicken Stir-Fry
The next day, James and I decided to try Marcus Samuelsson's new restaurant Streetbird.  I was excited to visit because I love the decor of his places. We were lead to great seats right away and the decor didn't disappoint- think 80's hip-hop chic.   Everywhere that you look there is color: on the walls, the chairs, and the menu.  I loved the practical detail of the paper towel rack connected to the table.  I appreciate that Marcus Samuelsson hired a diverse waitstaff and that neighborhood people seem to frequent Streetbird.  It prevents the place from feeling too staged, like Disneyland in blackface. 



Unfortunately, the first disappointment was actually the drinks. Don't get me excited about a glass of Jam Jar if you don't have it!
This is the best wine ever!
Furthermore, if I am paying twelve dollars for a glass of wine, I do not want it served in a plastic cup (regardless of how cute the cup is). It may sound silly, but wine just doesn't taste the same in plastic.  Either that, or my Cava was just warm and flat.  James got a speciality cocktail and he wasn't thrilled with it either.  And if James only orders one drink, you know there's a problem . . .


For food, I ordered french fries and chicken wings and James ordered a chicken sandwich.  Both meals were mediocre, but thankfully not expensive.  I was not exactly surprised, as the food at Red Rooster can be inconsistent.  However, there are certain things at Red Rooster that you know will be good (the drinks, chicken wings and cornbread).  Hopefully, there are those things on Streetbird's menu that I have yet to discover because it is a place that would be fun to visit again with a group of friends.



I







Sunday, May 3, 2015

Adventures in Brooklyn

My friends know that I don't like to travel.  I like being in new places; I just don't like the effort that it takes to get there (especially if it involves long rides on the train).   I am aware of how obnoxious that sounds, but the idea of being far from home gives me anxiety. Luckily, Chloe is brave and she inspires me to make the best of my weekends.  Our plan this Saturday was to attend Juliana's 30th birthday party, so we decided to meet up with Jennifer first and squeeze in other Brooklyn activities.  

Our first stop was Zaaz Pizza at 766 Classon (between St. Johns and Sterling).  Zaaz is a relaxed, family-friendly spot with outdoor seating.  Since we were pretending it was summer, we started with lemonade served with fresh mint and an argula and beet salad (next time I will order it without the walnuts).  Then we ordered a pizza that Jennifer, Chloe, and I could share.  Jennifer doesn't eat meat, and I don't think that pizza is worth having unless there is some form of pork on it.  As a compromise, we chose a  pizza that was half spinach and mushrooms and  half pepperoni, pickled jalapeƱos, and sunflower honey (known as The Stolen).  The Stolen was so good that I am still thinking about it a day later.  The crust was thin and crispy and the toppings were the perfect combination of salty and sweet.  Who knew that honey on pizza would be so good?  The owner recommends The Potato (creme fraiche, white cheddar, applewood bacon) and East Meets West (spicy tomato sauce, sweet soy chicken, water chestnut, fresh mozzarella, and sesame seeds).  He is also a Toni Morrison fan, so we will definitely be back!



On the short walk from Zaaz to The Brooklyn Botanic Gardens, we spotted this mural.  Jennifer is the only person who loves a photo shoot more than I do- so of course we had to stop and take pictures.  


I was super excited to go to The Brooklyn Botanic Gardens Gardens because, after weeks of waiting, I finally got my IDNYC card.  I applied for a free membership to The Gardens and was able to see the Cherry Blossoms without paying the twelve dollar admissions fee.  

We came for the cherry blossoms, but the real treat were the tulips.  Tulips are my favorite flowers so it was amazing to see rows and rows of them in every color and variety imaginable.  I look forward to going back when it is less crowded (Saturday was a madhouse) and visiting the Japanese garden.
While we were at The Botanic Gardens my phone died (the horror) so many of the pictures in this post were taken by Jennifer.
Feeling handicapped, yet undeterred, we left the gardens and went to see the Basquiat: The Unknown Notebooks exhibit at The Brooklyn Museum.  The crowds were intense and Chloe was hungry and cold so we breezed through the exhibit.  Luckily, I applied for a free membership with my IDNYC card so I can go back during the week once school ends (four weeks and counting . . .).
A Little Taste of Outside Love, by Mickalene Thomas
Grey Area, Fred Wilson
After leaving the museum, we took a short cab ride to Madiba, where we feasted on cheese, vegetable samosas, prawns, and a hamburger for Chloe.  The decor of the restaurant was colorful and fun and the crowd was diverse.  I look forward to visiting the Harlem location.

Unfortunately, I couldn't access Juliana's address because by phone was dead so we weren't able to make it to the party.  Our last stop before getting on the subway was Donut Plant. A few bites of the Peanut Butter and Strawberry Jam donut were all that I needed to give me the strength to get on the D train.  Brooklyn, I'll be back!