First Person Singular by Wendy Braitman

Surprising Things You Can Do With a Radish

Tired of limp celery and carrot sticks? Consider the radish, a perfect sideshow for cocktail hour. Alongside a teeming bowl of cashews, I throw whole radishes on a plate with a ramekin of sea salt. Barefoot Contessa has an even better idea. Arrange them directly on a bed of salt, and serve with toasted baguette slices topped with herb butter. I’m ready for the weekend.

Image: Girl with Radish, 1963, Marjorie Strider at the Brooklyn Museum through January 9.

On the Day With No Waiting For Superman

Despite my occasional bouts of envy as a single woman, I understand that no one gets saved. Not the middle-aged friend whose life was an unfocussed mess until he met his wife, not the colleague who couldn’t make ends meet before her boyfriend proposed, nor the cynical college buddy who had long ago given up on love, until his neighbor made him the happiest he’s ever been. Beyond their euphoria, there’s the daily grind of life that tears into intimacy and hope. And yet, there I was, last night, weeping along with the rest of the world, as Manuel Gonzales, the first rescuer who 24 hours earlier had crammed into a capsule to be lowered into the Chilean mine, became our Superman, and the last hero to ascend from the belly of the earth.

Are You Afraid of the Dark?

I’m a morning person. I get creeped out by the middle of the night, and am always amazed at people who are at their best at 2 AM. Take vampires. (No really, please.) I’m sure this is hard-wired into us. My mother remembers that by the time I was 6, all she needed to do was stand by my bedroom door and I’d wake up, ready to go. It has been years since I’ve slept alone at home, and by alone I mean, without humans or pets (which speaks more to the pets than the humans.) I like the comfort of sharing the darkness with a friend.

Image: Photophobia (obsessive fear of light) by Raquel Figueira

Worry Free Zone

For an entire day each week, I carve out sacred space. To make this happen, I employ four ground rules. 1. No work. 2. No thinking about work. 3. No computer. 4. No anxiety. With the exception of the computer, which has a literal “shut down” switch, these other rules take focus. Since I’m not a Zen master, I can’t stop the impulses from cluttering my brain, but once I become conscious of drifting into work, thinking about work, or anxiety, I stop cold. And then, the cycle repeats. I can’t say enough, what relief and refreshment this brings. How do you make a day sacred?

Image: Loretta in the Bath, 2002, Andrew Stevovich. See his exhibition at Adelson Galleries.

Are We Single for a Reason?

I was having the best time, soaking up the sun in the backyard with Freedom, Jonathan Franzen’s sprawling new book. That is, until I came across a sentence that made me shiver. Patty, a leading character in the saga, hates her family, but realizes her parents’ neglect was good for something. It inadvertently helped her settle down with a fine husband, not like…..

her sisters, who are now in their early forties and living alone in New York, too eccentric and/or entitled-feeling to sustain a long-term relationship.

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What’s Your Favorite Way to Start a Meal?

We had our first taste of autumn this week, as the temperature dropped more than 40 degrees, and rains swept through Los Angeles. It’s sunny again, but summer is clearly behind us. Really ripe corn, peaches, nectarines and tomatoes have already become scarce. I grabbed a melon in the market today, knowing it could be my last for the next six months. I don’t mind that some foods are only available in certain seasons, because it deepens the pleasure of eating them, when they are. This past spring in Italy, I began almost every dinner with prosciutto and melon, which is exactly what I’ll be wistfully doing tonight. How about you?

Image: Circles and Squares, 2007, Elad Lassry. See his photography at MOMA.

Why We’re Loyal to Our Uncomfortable Shoes

Jonah Lehrer, who writes a cool blog for Wired Magazine, posted yesterday about why we irrationally love our dentists. Lehrer cites evidence that when we spend big money on a product or service–especially when it’s painful–we’re more likely to defend the benefits, regardless of whether it’s deserved. For years, I’ve been conducting an unscientific survey, asking women walking around in expensive high heels, if they’re comfortable. Now I understand why they always say, YES.

Image: Platforms, 2008, by Keegan McHargue

What Makes a House a Home?

My mother created a great home, filled with love and roast chicken. Five tips I picked up from her:

1. Have 50 extra rolls of toilet paper on hand at all times.
2. Stock the freezer with chocolate ice cream.
3. Be gracious with guests and feed them well (and in my house, serve good cocktails.)
4. Keep surroundings clean, but not austere.
5. Hug a lot.

What makes a home for you?

Image: Still Life #30, 1963, by Tom Wesselmann

On the Rag

I love babies as much as the next woman. Well, maybe not exactly as much. But I truly get their appeal. It’s just that lately, I feel surrounded by them, and it’s making me grouchy. Or maybe, I’m grouchy because of the old lady who hit my car on the freeway 10 days ago, and the mounds of paperwork, and wasted hours on the phone with my insurance company that have been the result. Or maybe it’s the unexpected gloomy weather in L.A. that I am not logistically or emotionally prepared for. (Gotta get my boots from the attic.) Or is it simply a matter of not enough sex?

Image: Paint on Rag, 1999, from Absolute Sellout

Making the Case for Sweets

Here’s a swipe at one of the most stubborn medical myths. There is no scientific relationship between sugar and hyperactivity. REALLY. Sugar has no nutritional value, plus it causes tooth decay, so it’s wise to avoid. I’m just not willing to give up on it. (Fruit has its place, but it’s no crème brûlée.) When I left my parents for college, I reveled in the freedom of experiencing drugs and sex, but also candy bars for dinner, without reprimand. Now, I take a more measured approach. I try to limit my intake to one delicious (not junky) sugary thing a day, including the hidden kind in cereal, protein bars, maraschino cherries, coffee drinks, though there’s no tyranny here. The way I look at it, I’m active, healthy, with no kids to corrupt. And a life without chocolate wouldn’t be as sweet.

Image: Bakery Case, 1996, Wayne Thiebaud