the all nostalgia diet
Note the boys at Reverseshot on the films Hollywoodland and Black Dahlia, respectively, "Consider it the iceberg-lettuce-and-thousand-island-dressing salad preceding De Palma’s filet mignon."
And then David Denby in the Sept 18 issue of the New Yorker, also on Black Dahlia, "The picture is a kind of fattened goose that's been stuffed with goose-liver pate." And, he explains, in case you don't get his ever-so-subtle-point, "It's overrich and fundamentally unsatsifying." (90)
Basically, neither of these appealed to us. Our best option for the movie theater, we thought, was Idlewild. If you have a culinary metaphor for that film, please let me know.
But we didn't get to see it because we went hiking over near Fallingwater and we were standing rather innocently in a field and Ben Greenfields was just saying that when HE grew up he wanted to live in the woods and eat berries when suddenly I gave a loud gasp. Because there, at the edge of the field was . . .
. . . a black bear cub, standing on it's hind legs, foraging through the bushes. It looked at us and we walked quickly in the other direction and took an alternate trail.
Then we were talking all weekend about how cute it was, and how great omnivores are, and looking up photos on google. I can't tell how old it was, but it looked pretty much like this one.
Also, we did a lot of shopping and I got a brown wool suit (the kind with a skirt that hits below the knee, oh yes) at the Red White and Blue thrift store, arguably Pittsburgh's best thrift store, though somewhat inaccessible.
Categories: food, film, newyorker, thrift, outdoors