The Time I Met Emily Mortimer on the Subway.

The Other Night.

I was at the 86th street subway stop on the Upper West Side. I was annoyed, the train was running late, and the waiting area was filling up with equally impatient people. I was on my way to a commercial print acting seminar. The dim waiting area was quiet but teeming with a nervous energy. New Yorkers like to keep moving, like to keep on their own internal clock's timetable. As long as they're go-go-going, they're quiet. But they tend to get particularly nervous when deprived of where and when they want to go. If you mess with that, well, then... that's when there is an antsy, aggressive New Yorker on your hands. Don't look directly in their eyes. They might spook.

I have quickly adopted this rude and selfish behavior. Sorry. I started pacing under the wan light, scanning the crowd for no particular reason, other than to people watch. It's part of keeping my "acting eyes" open; my acting coach told me to always watch people because it's a great way to learn about humanity, blah blah blah. You know how acting teachers are. So in touch with emotions. But seriously wonderful.

So there I was, keeping my eyes way open, when someone caught my eye. It was a tall woman, wearing no makeup, her hair frayed across her forehead and slumped in a wooden subway waiting chair. There was nothing about her that would draw anyone's eyes - she wasn't dressed in flashy clothes or giving off that "I'm-an-actress-stare-at-me" vibe. She was just, so, normal. But I knew I had seen her before. And I knew where. But I decided to move a little closer, just to be sure. So I crept within about 10 feet of her (and everyone else sitting on that wooden bench.) High cheekbones, milky-white skin, totally British. This has got to be her.

Then, thankfully, the subway lights illuminated the tunnel. Everyone stood up, ready to flood the doors as soon as they opened. I inched a bit closer and stepped into the same car as she did, and as she walked past me, I knew for CERTAIN that this was Emily Mortimer. For sure. No questions. "How cool is this," I thought, and found my way to a subway seat. She lingered by the subway map just inside the door, then casually came and sat down right in front of me. Facing me.

So of course, I'm just staring at her. At Emily Mortimer. Actress in so many great things. Thank goodness she wasn't even slightly aware of my stalker-ish gaze. The subway lurched forward. As the quiet contentment of New Yorkers filled the subway car, something occurred to me. I will probably never EVER see this woman again. What are the chances? But the last time I saw a famous person, I was so star struck I just stood there. I decided, why not just say something to her? I know there's a code in this town about not making a big deal about celebrities, but, I can play it cool and not gush over her, right? I leaned forward. I took a deep breath. And then, I obviously hissed at her (because I clearly make good decisions when I'm star struck.)

"Pssst."

Nothing.

"Psssssssssstt?"

She glanced my way. This was my chance. To stop hissing at her. And maybe start using my words.

"Hey, you're an actor aren't you?" I said across the two feet expanse between us.

Her stoic face broke into a sweet grin. "Yeah," she said. So British. Best accent ever.

"You're really good, " I said meekly. "You were so great in that movie a few years ago, the one with Ryan Gosling. That was a great movie." DUMB. I couldn't even remember the title.

"Oh, why thank you." She smiled at me. "Are you an actor?" she asked.

"Yeah," I answered. "I'm on my way to a seminar about commercial print right now." Then I realized how lame that sounded to a REAL actress. They don't do commercial print unless there are at least 5 zeroes attached to the buyout. Ughhhh.

She responded with fond kindness, "Oh good for you. Well keep at it. Just keep going for it. It's a terrible time to be in any industry, so you might as well be an actor and just go for it." She laughed a little. Emily Mortimer. Laughing at the prospect of me going for it. Omigahhhh.

"Thank you! That's a good way to look at it." I said. We both smiled and then kind of just looked away. It was a nice conversation, and now it was over.

Oh no it wasn't.

Because I remembered.

"Oh, and in 30 Rock! You had the brittle bones! Man, you were so funny, my husband and I really got a kick out of that," I said.

She laughed again. "Oh thank you." She shifted in her seat.

Then it was over.

My husband and I got a kick out of it?? What the-?! Man, I am so done talking to celebrities.

The subway pulled into 59th. She and I both got off, and parted ways into the night. Oh Emily Mortimer.  That wily British minx. She is everything you would think; so polite and with an unexpected warmth that makes you feel, well, like you can say things to her like, "I got a kick out of that." However, you probably shouldn't. BECAUSE SHE'S EMILY MORTIMER.

Happy Thanksgiving.

Giving All That Thanks.

Last year, Stevie and I spent Thanksgiving with our dear friends in Cambridge. It was a big decision to stay in Massachusetts and not return to our beloved Georgia for the holidays, but with my work schedule and his school schedule, it just felt like too much. I remember breathing a sigh of relief when I knew we weren't coming home, which is strange, since I am often accused of being family-obsessed. But it just felt good to stay in one place for a few days, rest, read and NOT travel. My lovely friend Carrie and I cooked and baked the day away and spent the evening explaining our curious Thanksgiving traditions to about 8 of our international friends, who joined us for the affair. It was quite a meal. It was a wonderful, peaceful way to spend the day, and we topped it off by sipping homemade cider late into the night. And we slept an awful lot.

But you know what? Stevie and I are such homebodies. We seriously missed being home with our large-and-in-charge families. So this year we bought tickets early (that is the key), and found ourselves in the lovely land of Georgia for the week of Thanksgiving. And it has been, well, let me just say that my heart is full.

No matter where you are today, whether you're in a new place celebrating with new friends, or at home playing out the tried-and-true traditions with your loved ones, I hope you're soaking up this season in your life. I hope you are loving where you live, the work you do, the people you surround yourself with, your patterned life with all it's windy turns. Because the years are moving along. If you don't realize it you will find yourself... older. And hopefully wiser! But even more hopefully, surrounded by those beautiful people who pull you back to your roots and push you to innovate, grow, change and be the best you ever. Thankful for these gorgeous souls today. Because where would I be without them.

Happy Thanksgiving to you and yours today!

TASTE: The Perfect Pie Crust

Perfect Pie Crust.

I just had to share this before we are all in the swing of holiday baking later this week. I made a pie crust last week (to make with this quiche) and I couldn't believe how incredibly easy it was. Why haven't I been doing this all my life? Please, this year, promise me that you will resist the temptation to pick up a few pre-packaged crusts from the frozen food section.

Tools:

- Food Processor (mine is a 3-cup and can totally manage this recipe)

- Rolling pin

- Clean counter-top surface or wooden cutting board

Ingredients:

- 2 1/2 cups flour (plus extra for rolling)

- 1 cup (2 sticks) of very cold butter (almost frozen, seriously)

- 1 tsp. salt

- 1 tsp. sugar

- 6-8 tbps. ice water

Method:

Note: This recipe makes a bottom and top crust combination. If you only need a bottom crust and are leaving your pie/quiche, etc. open on top, you can cut this recipe in half or freeze your dough.

1. Combine the flour, salt and sugar in a food processor and pulse to mix the ingredients.

2. Chop up the really cold/frozen butter into, roughly, 1-tbsp. sections.

3. This is the fun part! Add the butter to the food processor and pulse about 8 times. This part always fascinates me, because it completely transforms the consistency! Keep pulsing until the mixture is coarse and the butter is scattered throughout.

4. Begin adding 1 tbsp. of ice water at a time, pulsing the mixture, then adding another tbsp. Keep doing this until the mixture begins to form a crumbly dough. A good test: if you you pinch some of the dough, it should stick together. If it doesn't, add a bit more water and pulse. You don't want to add too much water because it will make the dough tough to work with.

5. Remove dough from the processor and transfer to your clean surface (preferably a pastry board like this or this, but we can't all be so lucky, huh?)

6. Begin by mashing the dough up a bit. This is not only a therapeutic moment, but it actually helps the dough layers flatten (resulting in a flaky crust, mmm!)

7. Roll the dough with your hands until it forms a round mound. Using a large knife, cut the dough in half. Now you have two parts, one for the top crust and one for the bottom. Wrap each mound in plastic and place in the refrigerator for 1 hour.

Note: If you only need one crust for your recipe, you can refrigerate the second mound of dough for up to 2 days. Or you can freeze it for up to a month.

8. Remove the dough from the refrigerator and let sit at room temperature for 5-10 minutes (this allows it to soften a bit.) Flour your rolling pin and pastry board or clean surface and begin rolling the dough out. You want to roll the dough out to a 12-inch circle, about 1/8-inch thick. If the dough is sticking a bit, just keep adding flour to the surface.

9. Carefully lift the rolled dough and place in a 9-inch pie pan. Using your fingers, gently press the dough into the pan. Trim the edges with kitchen shears. I like to use the excess dough to make designs on the crust with these cookie cutters. So festive.

10. Add pie filling.

11. Repeat step 9 with the second mound of dough. Leave a little extra dough around the edge of the top layer and press into the bottom layer around the edges. You can use your fingers or a fork. Make 4 2-inch cuts in the top layer of dough to allow steam to escape while the pie cooks.

Voila! Ready for baking!

I guarantee that you will be so pleased with the ease and TASTE of this dough that you will never go back to the store-bought stuff again! And your family will get a big kick out of your homemade handiwork (they don't have to know how easy and fun it is; that will just be our little secret!)

Because Honestly... THIS is New York in the Fall.

// My view from Belvedere Castle in Central Park. //

Central Park. In the Fall.

I don't mean to brag. I really don't. But I do mean to be shamelessly thankful. I AM SO THANKFUL TO BE LIVING IN NEW YORK CITY. I can't say it enough. I can't stop thinking it. Every single day I wake up, so thankful to be living in this vibrant, pulsing metropolis. Even when I see the rats saunter around the subway tracks. They saunter. Because they have no reason to scurry. They own those tracks. And even when my lightyears-old radiator decides to wake me up in the middle of the night, hissing like the soundtrack from a horror movie. And even when I go on auditions and, you know, get rejected (don't cry for me, Argentina.)  I am still happy to be here. So over the moon. And why shouldn't I be? This place is a dreamers city. Full of bright-eyed crazies and cold-blooded cynics alike. What an effervescent kind of mess.

Even those of you who don't care for NYC at all have to admit - the fall foliage in Central Park this year can't compete with even the most picturesque of New England's Berkshires. This autumn has been outrageously gorgeous, and having previously pounded a lot of New England pavement, I can speak from experience when I say that this autumn has been utterly mesmerizing. The papery leaves continue to fall like confetti, swirling around and having a parade in the sky before finally landing and collecting in a decorative array all over the great yard. The temperatures are continuing to drop, but I just had to share these beauties with you before the winter wonderland overtakes my Instagram.

// Classic panorama. Stevie is so good at taking these. See midtown in the distance? //

// We are children. The end. //

// The sun is SO bright. I'll take it. //

From Glory to Glory.

I just love autumn. So tell me. What has fall been like in your neck of the woods - Dreamy? Dull? Comment below!

Windy Weekend in Chicago

"Boys, Chicac-y is the biggest noise in Illinois.'' - Doris Day as Calamity in Calamity Jane

The Windy City.

What a town. You've got to cue this jam while you read, because, well, this has been my childhood impression of Chicago. Warren and Meredith are some of our best friends from Boston, and just two weekends ago they got hitched in the grand Chicago History Museum. Stevie and I both had the privilege of being a part of the ceremony, which means we got an up-close view of their loving "I-do's." Not only was witnessing their commitment to one another completely poignant and beautiful, we had the best time exploring (and munching) our way through this spectacular (and truly windy!) city. Cheers to our new favorite couple!

// Millennium Park //

// Cloud Gate at Millennium Park, AKA "the bean" //

Map.

Our friends spoiled us rotten and set us up to stay in one of the poshest areas of town. We lived it up in an Air B&B, just south of Lincoln Park and just around the corner from Michigan Avenue. Sooo legit. We jogged around the downtown fancy stores (I went into Topshop, first time ever!), ran along the water front, and through Lincoln Park. It was really windy (why was I surprised?) so the jogging/sightseeing combo was actually a really practical way to see a lot of sights and stay toasty while doing so. We did take a cab over to Millennium Park to see the Bean (aka the Cloud Gate), met our dear friends Andrew and Sarah for lunch and walked along the Chicago Waterfront as the wind whipped around our joyous selves. The fall foliage must have been at its peak for the weekend, because wow; the colors were fiercely outrageous.

// Yes, there were really horse-drawn carriages riding around this completely non-touristy area. Chicago is just that quaint. //

Mmm.

This weekend, we consumed a LOT of Chicago-style pizza. Which isn't really the healthiest option in the world, but in moderation, it's a real treat. If you are interested in tasting all the grandest pizzas in the world like me, then this is just another one to add to the ever-growing list of awesome pizza pies. It's the kind of deep dish that you eat three bites of and you're completely full. It's about 1.5 inches thick (yes, you read that right), richly packed with cheese, sausage and tomato goodness. And the crust! It's buttery and flaky and just wondrous. (Don't start thinking about the calories, I told myself. Hence, the mad amount of jogging.) We ate at Lou Malnati's more than once over the weekend, and I felt like I reached my life quota. Many thanks, Lou.

// Look at that waterfront path! Pretty priceless. //

//  Lake Michigan. You can sigh. //

// Left: The Willis Tower, formerly known as the Sears, Right: The famed Drake Hotel //

// We played and ate all weekend. This was one grand affair. //

Moment.

Strolling along the waterfront of Lake Michigan, hand in hand with my babe, I had a (mini) revelation moment. I have LOVED living in New York for the past 3 months, but there has been a teensy, tiny part of me that has been really nostalgic for Boston in the fall. My time living in Cambridge for two years was tumultuous, terrific, terrifying, but most of all, so treasured. Those cozy winters of hibernating inside... mmm there's nothing like it. But still, I have been really missing the gorgeous foliage along the Charles River that I used to see everyday. However, spending the weekend in Chicago has made me appreciate the sweet memories of Cambridge. And now! Well, here I am, exploring vibrant cities and discovering places where new memories will be created. It's a pretty sweet time in life. And perhaps a bit windy, but nothing that won't blow over.