Very Strong Ideas To Talk About

Hello and welcome to Peak Hobbies Season, a.k.a the time of year when we all log off physically and intellectually. One of my best summer tips is “don’t talk too much” so you can bet I won’t be writing a novel for you today. After you read this please go stand idly in the kitchen for a minute and then eat some potato chips while your kids (umbrella term) aren’t looking.

Old Person Music Corner: new Strokes and Charli XCX in one day, it IS my Emerald Year. Sad to say that The Strokes album bored me to tears; in lieu of a proper review I was moved to ask my friend Yasi (Salek, of Fast and Loose and Bandsplain fame) “what do you do at a rock concert?” Truly can’t imagine just standing in a room shifting my feet to this ambient nonsense. Real “wake up, kids!” energy even though the Strokes are older than me time. I love Strokes albums 1-6 and the Julian Casablancas solo album without reservation, you can’t take that away from me, even if you are Julian Casablancas lightly mocking my then-boyfriend, now-husband in The Daily Beast in 2014. (I took Zach’s side, but just barely.) My one good Strokes story is that I took my older son to a baby swim class at a friend’s house and one of the other babies turned out to be Albert Hammond Jr.’s. He (Albert) did not get in the pool. I did, in a maternity swimsuit. My son can swim now but not thanks to that class.

Charli, on the other hand — the horoscopes must actually be true. (Charli’s birthday is August 2, happy birthday to me and Charli.) Don’t know if “Rock Music” was the right lead single but as an album opener it clicked. Cover art obviously perfect (I’m Marc, Sean is Scorsese, CR is John Cale, we should have recreated this before everyone went on vacation.) Glad to see Vincent Cassel bouncing back from the indignity of Parallel Tales. I had a genuine moment of reflection and communion while merging onto the 110 and listening to “No One Lasts Forever” — believe it or not I cannot live up to my own standards all the time and I was feeling down, overwhelmed, trapped on the 5 with my failures. “Oblivion is freedom.” I needed that, David Cronenberg! Even the TikTok song is a jam, and funny for grow-ups, too; “just kidding I’m only saying that for effect, but my point is, I think people can change” might be the line delivery of the year, any medium1. I’m still deeply pissed off that I was so pregnant during Brat Summer but Music, Fashion, Film is in fact two-thirds of my lifestyle, so maybe I’ll learn to how to go to a rock concert before October.

Just remembered that I took this picture of the Burbank Town Center 6 mural because it reminded me of the long lost Hartsfield-Jackson International Airport arrivals mural. (The one with the kids playing in Centennial Olympic Park, if you remember you remember.) I had a pleasant parking experience at Burbank Town Center 6 — too many compact spaces, but easy in and out — but I don’t go there often enough to add it to the Official Rankings. I would like to formally respond to the Cinerama Dome news by placing the Hollywood and Vine / former ArcLight structure at number three on the list, at least if the condos haven’t taken over. Matt Belloni is a Jam Session All-Star and a great Vegas guide but I respectfully disagree with this take (don’t go to premieres, Matt!!)

Haters Corner: Emily Wilson in the London Review of Books, titanic shitposting from a new hero of mine. I disagree with almost every word of the piece. (Dog plot a rare moment of alignment). Certainly there’s a territorial quality to the writing, and perhaps some score-settling, but ultimately I found it a refreshing if clickbaity reminder that people like different stuff. We think of and are sold taste as handed down from some higher power — critics, editors, Marvel, Sofia Coppola — but some people enjoy sick drumming and some people do not. Emily Wilson is at least conversant in the work of Avril Lavigne so this is not an ivory tower situation, she just doesn’t want to spend her time this way. An extremely normal attitude in the world of academia and also the UK, less so in American fan culture.2 Oblivion is freedom, and so is saying “not for me!”

And now, a brief Canon To Me At Least interlude:

Miranda July’s 2013 email project, but specifically, Kirsten Dunst’s “strong ideas to talk about.” My memory has turned “so many elements and people” into “so many concepts” which featured in my recent birthday party invitation, among other use cases. “Elements and people” is obviously better and I’ll be correcting my memory going forward.

Summer Book Report: I’m 130 pages into Bel Canto (it’s good but also…I think I get it?) and I vow to read the rest of these by Labor Day — though if someone will please send me an advanced reader copy3 of the Rachel Cusk Natalie Portman saga that will cut to the front of the line. Speaking of the LRB, Nina Stibbe’s Love, Nina is an absolute delight though about as far from Emily Wilson’s translation of The Odyssey as the English language can get. Also John Lanchester on Agatha Christie is a banger. Agatha Christie Summer? I’ve done it but could be great for you.

Well, I returned everything I ordered. The Left on Friday suit was the wrong size, and also I think we’re confusing “compression” and “making things too small.” The J. Crew swimsuit was such a nice color and cut but zero support, who are we kidding, we knew that going in. With respect, I did not even try on the two Albion suits because there was absolutely no shelf bra situation and the prints were not Amanda. Which is not to say that they are not for other people — as Emily Wilson has taught us, some people can wear brown polka dots and some people cannot. I panic-ordered two Bravissimo Cancun one-pieces from the UK and am happy to report they meet my needs and look chicer in person. I’ve also got another Stylst one-piece on the way, thank you to them. On Sunday we got home from the pool and I cooked dinner in just my swimsuit, while not talking too much — a perfect Hobbies night.

To end, part of what I cooked on Sunday: the best peach cobbler I’ve ever made. This is another unsourced Southern recipe, handed down from my grandmother to my mom to me, though it bears a close resemblance to Deb Perelman’s Magic Apple Plum Cobbler. Both recipes are built around the step of not mixing the melted butter and the batter — this causes the butter to bubble up and crisp around the edges for a delightful not-quite-crust. What made Sunday’s version even better is that I cooked it in our cast iron skillet, allowing the butter to form a nice pan crust as well. This NYTCooking biscuit recipe uses a similar technique and is way easier than rolling out biscuit dough. Even Zach, who once had a grapefruit with a candle for his birthday dessert, said the cobbler was excellent. Use any fruit you want!

The Best Peach Cobbler I’ve Ever Made

1/2 cup (1 stick) butter
1 cup flour
3/4 cup sugar
1 tsp baking powder
1 tsp kosher salt
3/4 cup milk
3 peaches, or 1 1/2 cup cherries, or blueberries, or whatever just put the fruit you have in there

Melt the butter in a cast iron skillet. In a medium bowl, mix flour, sugar, baking powder and salt, then add milk and stir until just combined. Pour the batter directly into the middle of the skillet, over the butter, and DO NOT STIR. The butter will get pushed toward the edges and it will look sloppy and this is fine. Place fruit on top of batter/butter and bake at 350 for 35-40 minutes. Please eat with ice cream, we are not animali.