Wander: House tours

Philip Johnson Glass House / Good House Guest

Judd Foundation / Good House Guest

The first house that I remember living in was a cozy ranch with a big back yard on a block lined with other modest one-story homes. Except for the two-story colonial where Annalise lived. Annalise was older (well, big enough to go to school all day) and she had a fairy tale-like older girl’s room with an enviable doll collection and a giant doll house.

I still can’t distinguish if the following memory was fantasy or a true event, but I recall sneaking into that house one afternoon. Her mother was preoccupied on the phone, and I scampered up the stairs (such a luxury!) just to steal a glimpse of all the wonderful grown-up-girl things lining the shelves in Annalise’s room. Her mother called up and I hid under the bed (chest heaving) until she found little trespassing me. I’ve always been fascinated with the interior life of a home.

I still am. I love taking an evening stroll to soak up the vignettes playing out in brightly-lit living rooms or bedrooms. I can’t pass up a good period room in a museum (don’t try to rush me through the Colleen Moore Fairy Castle), and I’m a sucker for a house tour.

Frank Llyod Wright’s Fallingwater outside of Pittsburgh – the architecture, the casual ‘gift from a friend’ original artwork and custom furniture – make it well-worth the trip. There’s hardly enough time on the tour to cover all of the details, and it’s the sort of place where I would want to spend even just one night as a guest.

Super-modernist fans should flee from New York for the day via the Meto-North to wander the contemporary art and architecture campus (kingdom?) that is the Philip Johnson Glass House in New Canaan, Connecticut. Private writing hut, personal art gallery and one crystal-clear domicile. This New York Times story offers insight about the influential couple who lived there.

After years of restoration, Donald Judd’s home and studio in New York’s Soho neighborhood was opened to the public in 2013. Tours are intimate (six or so to a group) and leisurely paced, and you gain a true sense as to how Judd’s philosophy extended to every space – from the vibrant-feeling kitchen to the almost monastic bedroom (if not for the dazzling artwork found there). It’s a meditative space in what is now one of the cities most label-wagging commercial hubs. I wonder what Mr. Judd would make of the old neighborhood today…

Ps&Qs: Use the good plates

Good plates / Good House Guest Use the good plates. Uncrate your mother’s silver. Dust off the crystal. What are you saving those candles for? This is your special occasion.

I grew up in a house with an imposing china cabinet that smelled strongly of wood polish and rattled like a Waterford wind chime when you tip-toed past it. When those tall, hand carved doors were open it signaled party time, and my parents took great care in setting a table to welcome guests.

I’m too clumsy for cut-glass crystal and too impatient for the care of precious silver things, but my one indulgence: a good set of plates. I bring them out for everything from pizza to beef tenderloin. Because it’s not about what is served but rather, it’s about the people who traveled across an ocean or strolled a few blocks to spend time and share a meal with us. In fact, all about that.

Gift: Post-feast treats

Last year, a friend who had hosted a giant Thanksgiving dinner tipped me off to the most thoughtful hostess gift: breakfast for the next morning. As a host, what could be better following the days of cooking and hours of cleaning involved in these epic holiday feasts than having someone else plan a meal for you?

And as a guest, it’s pretty simple to pick up a dozen bagels, bake muffins, make a quiche, whip up a batch of Jane Lerner’s granola or, if staying overnight, wake the house up with a pan of Adam Miller’s chilaquiles. You will surely score yourself a return invite every holiday. And that’s certainly something to be grateful for. 

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone! Pass the stuffing… tip the turkey to me… and wishing heaping helpings of love and gratitude to all.

Create: Insta-NYE Party

We’ve lived in Brooklyn for five years and never once spent a New Year’s Eve in town. So this year we stuck around and gathered with a few friends who also weren’t traveling or otherwise engaged to greet 2013 with a lucky pot-luck. I’ve gotten into the communal  spirit of the pot-luck as of late, plus the collaborative effort makes pulling off a last-minute bash possible.

Having just interviewed Tori Hendrix of Sitting in a Tree Events about throwing a sparkling NYE event, I was brimming with ideas. However, I was short on time so unfortunately there were no sparklers (they are banned in NYC), wish paper ordered ahead of time or spray painted branches here. Instead I picked up gold and white balloons, paper crowns, glittery tiaras, black and gold noise makers and metallic confetti to give our place a NYE feel.

The spread and infamous cranberry shrub.

We had an abundance of incredible food: the eensiest roasted Brussels sprouts; a gorgeous onion and goat cheese tart; ginger cake; delicate mushroom pinwheels, potatoes gratin and savory puffed pastries to name a few. And everyone contributed something thoughtful to the bar too. Including a batch of cranberry shrub, a fruit and vinegar syrup which mixes well with everything from tequila to vodka. Too well, actually was my thought the next day as I nursed my aching head.

We live a block away from the Grand Army Plaza end of Prospect Park which is Brooklyn’s answer to Times Square for ringing in the new year. Moments before midnight our little group of revelers (two toddlers too) bundled up and, with bubbly in hand, joined the procession of neighbors gathering for the fireworks countdown.

At the start of 2013 we were all a-glow beneath the twinkling, popping bursts overhead. We returned to our place for the one night cap which led to talking, listening to music and laughing-unitl-we-cried on a repeat loop into the wee hours. Uncontrollable laughter is an auspicious start to the year ahead. And when this next year gets tough, amazing, dark, scary or too-good-to-believe, I’ll remember that night and know where to turn.

Happy New Year! Where did you welcome 2013? Wishing all peace when you need it, joy where you can find it, lots of wonder and plenty of comic relief in the year ahead.

Welcome to Brooklyn: Believe the Hype! Borough President Marty Markowitz pouring the champs at Prospect Park. Photo Credit:Angie Chait.

 

Gift: Stock the Larder

Enji Kunsei Olive Oil, Japan, deandeluca.com

What do you bring to your boss’s house for dinner? Gift your child’s teacher? Or your soon-to-be in-laws? Well, ask Good House Guest. I’ll do my best to hunt down a solution, like I did for my friend Sarah.

Q: We are invited to dinner at a couple’s house tomorrow night. They are retired and super foodies. They always cook us amazing dinners and never want us to bring dessert or anything, and I’m tired of bringing just wine. They are sort of no nonsense people. I need a suggestion of what to bring. Ideas?

A: Help re-stock their pantry. I like the combo of an interesting olive oil (comparable in price to a really nice bottle of wine) and sea salt. Super basic, but very necessary. The oil is something they’ll experiment with while cooking or appreciate for dipping. Plus, it’s a good excuse to stop by your local specialty grocery store and sample smooth oils from Italy or peppery ones from California. I even came across a cold-smoked olive oil from Japan. Sea salt is used to finish everything from fresh pasta to baked goods. It’s a staple, but you can find some cool small batch ones being made everywhere from the shores of Long Island, New York to the coast of France.

 

Ps&Qs: Shoes On or Off?

The practice of leaving shoes at the door when entering a home is one of the many Japanese customs that clicked with me. I especially liked it when house slippers were presented in exchange for my shoes. At a ryokan in Kyoto designated toilet slippers were even provided. Kinda brilliant.

I asked a Japanese friend about this, but she couldn’t explain what she considered merely a habit of daily life. So, I put a curious gaijin (my cousin Tommy who lives and works in Tokyo) on the case.

The reason for ditching shoes at the door is largely practical. Traditional Japanese living happens close to the floor. You dine at low tables without chairs and sleep on futon mattresses rolled out on the tatami mat floors. Bare feet, socks or slippers keep living spaces cleaner and save on tatami wear and tear.

There is also the symbolic. In every Japanese house is an area called the genkan, where you take off your shoes. This area literally separates the inside and the outside of the home. Removing shoes in the genkan could be seen as a gesture for letting down your social guard before entering the home where you can be more comfortable with the family and friends inside.

For the most part our house is now a shoe free zone. Friends and family seem comfortable with the rule. But we make it optional for new guests, and we always make an exception when we have bigger groups over. It was an easy and practical change to make. In New York, where garbage blossoms at the curbs, we’re all too aware of the crud we drag underfoot. Plus, with a baby in the mix we spend a lot of time on the floor these days.

Aside from the benefit of cleaning up a bit less, it’s been noted that reduced germs from dirty shoes can result in fewer colds. I’ll go with it. In a nod to Japanese hospitality, I even bought a bunch of slippers for people to shuffle around in–but really, people just prefer to be slipper free too.

So what’s your policy: shoes on or off?

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