The Empress Eve site is now live!

Welcome all my old buddies as well as any newcomers who find themselves here. I hope you enjoy your stay.

STAND UP AND BE COUNTED!

Shout out to my posse over at 12% BEER, and all those who’ve come here through them.

I’m still working out some of the kinks from the transition from my old blog, but most of my entries have made it over. Just have to fix some codes in the entries and finishing up the design in certain areas of the site, so it’s not fully operational, but it is functional enough to start blogging. Hope you like the new digs, I know I do!

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Blogs

The Masked Mofo

KungFuKitten

Disco The Kid

12% Beer

Elusive Balance

Blogography

Golf Widow

Here Kitty, Kitty…

Big Brain Brad

Pantsblazing

Making Light

Blurred Line

All Kinds of Writing

Do You Know the Muffin Man?

Just Chef’n

Domestic Goddess

Books/Comics/TV/Movies

The GeekZine

Neil Gaiman

The Dreaming: The Neil Gaiman Page

Ain’t It Cool

Internet Movie Database

Clive Barker

Clive Barker Revelations

Marvel Comics

DC Comics

Suspension of Disbelief

Dane Cook

World Wide School Library

Vegan/Veg

Vegan Freaks

Top 10 Vegan NYC Restaurant

Super Vegan

VegNews

Vegetarian Times

Veg Blog

PETA

Viva USA

Vegan Society

American Vegan

Satya Magazine

Lantern Books

Brooklyn Vegan

Almost Vegan

Get Vegan

Eat Air

Get Sconed

Veganicki

Vegan Cooking

Vegan Porn

VeganCore

Post Punk Kitchen

Baby Cakes NYC

Happy Happy Happy Bakery

Quantum Leap

Charities

Farm Sanctuary

Woodstock FAS

Catskill Animal Sanctuary

Best Friends Animal Sanctuary

The Nature Conservancy

The Organization for Bat Conservation

Bat Conservation International

Bat World Sanctuary

The Humane Society of the United States

American Humane Society

House Rabbit Society

Wildlife Conservation Society

Collectibles

Herrington Teddy Bears

Vermont Teddy Bear

Russ Bears

Boyd’s Bears

Ty

Swarovski

Culinary

Le Creuset

KitchenAid

Chef’s

The Baker’s Catalogue

ICE Culinary

National Gourmet Cookery School

Arts/News/Events

The New York Times

Guardian

BBC

Salon

NPR

space.com

NASA

Museum of Modern Art (MoMA)

MoCCA

The Metropolitan Museum of Art

Brooklyn Museum

American Museum of National History

Guggenheim Museum

Museum of Television & Radio

Museum of Sex

The Frick Collection

The Whitney Museum of American Art

American Museum of the Moving Image

The Brooklyn Botanic Garden

NY Hall of Science

How Stuff Works

Boing Boing

Fark

Gawker

Mental Floss

National Geographic

History Channel

Discover Magazine

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White bolts of lightning, came out of nowhere…

Ok, so I’m sitting here right now wearing beer-soaked jeans and Pantera t-shirt. Can you guess why? Because I just got back from the Judas Priest concert in New Jersey, and when there’s Jersey, there’s beer. Of course, there’s always less beer consumption than there is beer wearing. Thank you to everyone who contributed to my new look.

Speaking of new look, I must be smoking because I got some nice reactions tonight from the male contingency (drunken males, but nevertheless, males). After receiving a few “hey babies” I was nodding like “Yeah, I still got it.”

Now, I’m not the ugliest chick around, but it’s been a while since I’ve gotten such positive attention. Mofo said that it was probably my hairstyle. My hair was in full-force with Lisa-Lisa AND Cult Jam tonight, you dig? Earlier this evening, we had all these thunderstorms with high humidity, so I figured I wouldn’t fight nature and just keep my hair in its natural state (e.g., curly). Well, big, curly hair drives the Jerseyites wild!

Or perhaps when metal royalty such as myself makes an appearance at this type of event, it doesn’t go unnoticed.

The concert was totally fucking amazing. It was packed and surprisingly, the audience was very retro, big-hair 80s, and fist-pumping, just like the old days. Singer Geoff Tate of concert openers Queensryche made a comment like “Stay young, because growning old sucks.” I was like, dude there are no young people in this fucking audience. We’re all growing old with you! I tell you, I saw a lot of gray out there.

Mofo and I had great seats at 7th row center. Three rows up was a guy with binoculars. Dude, how fucking blind do you gotta be to need binoculars in the 4th fucking row?!? And ladies, ladies, please, put some clothes on. Guys, relax, it’s not like I’m telling Pam Anderson to overdress. These chicks were 1) too gray, 2) too large and/or saggy; 3) my grandmother’s age. Honestly, I wore jeans, a t-shirt, and boots. Didn’t even show cleavage, yet I somehow got through the night. You can too.

Start Rant:

And why is it that there’s always piss all over the toilet seats at in the ladies rooms of these venues? Honestly, how the fuck can you miss?!? It’s physically impossible. Sit the fuck down, pee, wipe, flush, leave. What the hell are you doing in there? You wouldn’t tolerate this from your husband, and he at least has an excuse. Why the fuck would you think it’s okay to do it to the rest of us? Gosh, at least wipe the seat, you reckless drunk whore.

End Rant.

As for the reunited Judas Priest, Mofo and I were blown away. They played four songs off the new album, which I’m really digging, and they all pulled out some real classics, too. If anyone wants to see the set list, check it out HERE. Mofo and I can’t wait to go see them again a week from today in New York. It’s money well spent. They are the fucking METAL GODS, people!

I know my neck is going to be aching tomorrow. After the show, I met up with Madman and Watto, and Watto asked me what happened to my hair (see, again with the hair). Banging of thy head, thank you.

And now I must rest mine head upon thy pillow. My parttime children have a dance recital tomorrow at noon, so I need to wash the beer off my flesh and get some rest.

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This is a glorious view of the sunset at the Verrazano-Narrows Bridge, right near my home in Brooklyn. I think Mofo and I were driving on the Belt Parkway going to Manhattan to one of our friend’s spoken word shows.

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I’ve been getting back into bowling lately. In the mid ’90s I used to play in a bowling league. Nothing serious, just a fun league. It was something I could do with my Uncle, who was on my team, and we really enjoyed it. When I started, I didn’t really know how to bowl. My first game I bowled a 70. Evenutally, I got up to 169.

Last week, my friends Funky Jenn and Jamsie asked if I wanted to go bowling and I was totally down. My dear friends immediately started ragging on me when they saw that I brought own ball and shoes. Go ahead, keep fucking laughing. Let’s look at the scores, shall we?

Jamsie: 85

Funky Jenn: 70

Empress Supreme: 177

I am the Champion!

Do not mock my ball and shoes.

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Shaq Graduates With MBA From University of Phoenix

I’ve just gained a whole new respect for Shaquille O’Neal.

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Some heads are gonna roll…

This is my Knight. As of today, he’s been decapitated three times.

Knight lived on my brother’s radiator all through my childhood. When I was 19, my brother got his own apartment and I took over his old room along with all the items he’d left behind. Lucky for me, Knight was one of the abandoned items. Knight has moved with me to four apartments and one condo. Unfortunately, he’s not always been intact.

It was during my first move that someone carelessly mishandled Goode Sir Knight, thereby decapitating him. Imagine my horror to see his stiff heading rolling on my new kitchen floor.

Even headless, I loved him still. I recapitated him with super glue and touched his neck up with some silver paint. He was good as new, as long as you didn’t peer too close, so back on the shelf he went.

Knight’s second decapitation occurred during the move into my second apartment (pattern, anyone?). Again, I glued and painted him back to health, and back on the shelf he stayed in peace, in one piece.

My brother was surprised the other day to see Knight sitting pretty in my living room. “You still got that thing?,” he asked. “Um, yes, I do, now kindly back away from The Knight.” Yes, I love him still.

Today, Goode Sir Knight was knocked from his station during a frenzied vacuuming incident, leaving him headless for the third time in his three decades of brave and loyal service. As always, he took his dose of super glue with great valor and courage, and is already back at his post.

Honorable Sir Knight, I salute you.

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Yesterday was my nephew’s backyard barbecue junior high school graduation party, and at these occasions, I have many roles to play: Umpire, talent competition judge, dart tournament player, volleyball coach, storyteller, taste tester, moral support lender, socializer, and lifeguard. I take these roles quite seriously, but it’s my duty as head of the dessert committee that is the most challenging.
I’m not someone who is comfortable making the same desserts for each occasion, but I’m also hesitant to try out a new recipe at a party with over 60 guests. I had many things to consider:

• available refrigeration: never is any

• number of guests: 35 adults; 30 kids

• mobility: over 60 miles on my lap in a car mostly on highways

• taste preferences: highly varied; guest of honor loves vanilla/dislikes chocolate/not big on nuts

That eliminated my signature chocolate creations, cheesecakes, whipped cream-encased cakes and pies, and nuts-laden desserts. My only option was to search for a new recipe to attempt—my worst fear. After looking through my favorite cookbooks, I found the perfect cake from Nick Malgieri’s Perfect Cakes, a Strawberry Meringue Cake, made with three layers of genoise each brushed with a lemon-kirsch syrup, filled with strawberry filling, then topped with Italian meringue.

The recipe was easy enough to follow, but the part where you get the cake out of the oven and onto a serving dish without damaging the meringue was something else entirely.
But, it was easily transported by car; tough enough to withstand the heat and humidity of the backyard; and was a great crowd pleaser. The meringue turned out to be a wonderful substitute for whipped cream. After trying this cake, most of the guests didn’t even want to bother with the store-bought vanilla with chocolate mousse sheet cake.

Another success thanks to trustworthy Nick Malgieri!

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I’m sure my Mama doesn’t remember this drawing, but it’s one of her own. It’s of Mötley Crüe bassist Nikki Sixx from the Theatre of Pain era. Mama did this after I showed her a project I did in my 7th-grade art class. The project was to draw a portrait of a person. I wanted to draw Nikki Sixx, but just couldn’t get the nose down, so Mama tried to show me how to do it. Her tutorial turned into this awesome drawing.

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Metal Niece is hanging out with us for the weekend. She’s a great kid, although some time around 8pm each day, she gets over tired and busts out in hysterical laughter and repetitive speech. I told her she needed to be sedated. She asked me what sedated meant. :::heavy sigh::: Gosh, this girl needs a fucking vocabulary. She also doesn’t know the meaning of vain or decapitated. She especially doesn’t know what a personal lubricant is, but she really wanted to know after seeing a commercial for me. She’s 11. I told her to ask again in 10 years.

I’ve recently introducted Metal Niece to the Superman franchise. I figured I’d let her check out the classics before the new movie Superman Returns comes out. She really liked the first movie and today we watched part II (my personal favorite of the bunch). I have the box set, so I thought maybe I’d put on Superman III as well. I told her it was the one with Richard Pryor.

Who’s Richard Pryor?

How did I not see that coming?

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I tried to upload some photos to my server so that I could post them here, but I’m still at my in-law’s house where dial-up is the only way to get online. I tried to tell them that dial-up is whack, but I’m not getting through to them. I’ll have to post my attempted entry later.

For now, I’ll just say I’ve been having a great weekend. This time of year is pretty special, because it was Fourth of July weekend of 1988 that Mofo and I first started dating and had out first kiss. Ah, young love. It’s so cute to think about it now all these years later.

Mofo and I took Metal Niece home yesterday where there was a huge retirement party happening for her grandpa. There was about 80 people here and the food was outstanding (and there was plenty of it).

We slept over, then went this morning to see War of the Worlds. It was a decent movie, definitely entertaining. The kids enjoyed it. Afterwards, we came back and spent the entire day and half the night in the heated pool. It’s been a long time since I went swimming for real. Because of all of my ear problems and the subsequent surgeries, I’ve had to forego the underwater diving and swimming for over 20 years. Not anymore.

We got to see a lot of fireworks right from the backyard — and I never even had to get out of the pool. At 10pm, I was the last one out of the water. My in-laws are going to be sorry they ever got me to go into the pool, because I think now I’m going to have to spend the rest of the summer here!

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Success!

Last year, I made a Patriotic Pie for my grandpa’s birthday, which fell on Memorial Day. I worked real hard on stying it and my mother-in-law safely held it on her lap in my car the entire 60 miles to the party. Soon after I brought the pie into the house, my aunt accidentally dropped it on the floor, smashing it to bits, after sneaking of peak of it in the fridge. Obviously, it was a traumatizing moment for me.

I didn’t think I’d be able to give this pie another go at it, but I had to try because it was for a really special person—my sister-in-law’s father-in-law who was retiring. His loves pies and always appreciates the food I make, so I decided to overcome my trauma for this special occasion.

The crust was a standard flaky dough recipe, baked unfilled, then covered with a thin layer of melted white chocolate to seal it for the strawberry filling. On top of the filling was a white chocolate mousse made with cream cheese, sour cream and melted white chocolate. Then there’s a layer of fresh sweetened whipped cream. The topping is piped fresh whipped cream (a stabilized version), white chocolate-covered strawberried and farm fresh blueberries.

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I just found out about All Consuming and its sister site 43 Things about an hour ago, right around the time I should be snoring in bed. At All Consuming, siter users can list all the movies they want to see, books they want to read, and music they want to hear. At 43 Things siter users can make a list of their goals and write about how they’d like to achieve them, while other people sign up to those goals they’ve accomplished and possibly try to help others do so, too.

So, I’m sitting here trying to remember what the hell it is I’ve done in the past few months, and I totally can’t recall. Next to each item “consumed” is an area to put the date it was consumed on. No memory there either. I think I’d better start fresh, say from last month.

I think my favorite section of the two sites is the 43 Places area that has a world map with areas to click on to list where you would like to go as well as list all the places you’ve been. And it’s not just countries, states, and cities. You can narrow it down to neighborhoods, famous places, and streets.

Each listing you place has an area where you can write an entry either about why you want to experience something, or about something you’ve already done. I think it’s a fun way of keeping track of goals and destinations, as well as a neat way to get tips from others and give advice as well. The sites offer a lot more, like direct blogging and what they call “cheering,” which is something like leaving encouraging comments to people’s goals posting. I’m still feeling it out.

Oh, and as if I’m not enough of an open book, I signed up at My Space, which I swore I wouldn’t do, but every other day a friend of mine would send me those My Space evites and then the Metal Niece was here and she insisted I join. So I did, just so I could post messages for her, since from what I gather she’s on that My Space with her little friends all day.

Direct links to my personal areas of the aforementioned sites are in the left-hand column of this site.

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There’s this relatively new minor-league ballpark not far from where I live in Brooklyn called KeySpan Park (KeySpan is our local electricity supplier). It was built in 2001 in Coney Island right at the spot where Steeplechase amusement park once stood decades ago. Now it’s the home of the Brooklyn Cyclones and the view from its stands is a panoramic of Astroland amusement park and its famous Cyclone rollercoaster as well as the Atlantic Ocean.

On Saturday night, Mofo and I took Metal Niece there to see Def Leppard and Bryan Adams. The stadium had this great promotion where children under 12 were admitted free with an adult, so we thought it’d be worth checking out. Plus, it turns out that several of our friends were going too, and since the seating is general admission, we’d all be able to sit together

As everyone probably knows, Def Leppard was pretty big back in the day. When I was in the sixth grade, Pyromania had just come out and the video for “Foolin’” was competing with ZZ Top’s “Sharp Dress Man” on Friday Night Videos. My brother, who was about 15 at the time, brought Pyromania and immediately got me hooked on it. I loved that album so much that I had him draw the album cover on the front of my looseleaf notebook for me. (I eventually throw the looseleaf out, but not before I pulled the cover canvas off of it, and all these years later, I still have it.)

So, yeah, pretty much loved Def Leppard. Then the whole thing with the drummer losing an arm happened, and I remember how upset I was. I thought for sure they were done. When they came out with Hysteria a few years later, I was so psyched. Then I heard that “Pour Some Sugar On Me” shit and I was fuck that! Fuck that right up the ass. And that was it for them in my mind. I didn’t even bother going to see them play in the round for that tour with openers Queensryche.

That was 16 years ago and I really fucking missed them now. When I was at that concert the other night, I was like “Pour Some Sugar On Me? You fucking betcha, pour some sugar right the fuck on me. What? What was that? Am I getting it? Yes, Armageddon it, mutha fucka!”

There I was at 9:30pm at an awesome stadium on a beautiful night sitting with my closest friends rocking out with my niece to some great tunes viewing some of Brooklyn’s greatest scenary. The vibe of the crowd was really cool and the band was spot on. They did all but two songs from Hysteria; a few covers from their new greatest hits album as well as a few newer songs I’m less familiar with; “Foolin’” and “Photograph” from Pyromania; and one of my favorites of the night “Bringin’ On The Heartbreak” (from High N’ Dry).

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I guess it’s time to confess: I’m obsessed with miniatures. Nothing is cuter to me and more desirable than a miniature version of an object.

That’s why I love small pastries. While they’re sometimes a real bitch to make and are definitely more time-consuming to assemble than their larger counterparts, I just can’t help but love than more. They’re just too fucking cute.

The Mini Patriotic Tart shown here is a one of a kind prototype made from the remnants of its parent, Patriotic Pie II, and contains every single conponent, too. Over the crust is a drop of melted white chocolate, then the strawberry filling, the white chocolate mousse, fresh whipped cream, topped with one white-chocolate covered strawberry and three blueberries. It fit perfectly into a Glad mini round 4 oz. container.

My obsession with tinies is what makes me want this adorable flame-colored Le Creuset Mini Cocotte as well as measuring spoons for Pinch, Dash, and Smidgon amounts. (While you might think that last one is a little overboard, I doubt my brother’s wife–who thought a “pinch” was 2 tablespoons–would agree.)

My love of small things is not limited to food and cookware. It extends to all things, like luggage, figurines, pillows, and especially pocketbooks, like this Dooney and Bourke pumpkin-colored mini pocketbook (shown here on the right) that I just had to have and that I love with all of my heart.

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Mofo and I went to see Tim Burton’s Charlie and the Chocolate Factory today. I liked the book by Roald Dahl and I’d read that this movie version was more faithful to it then the Gene Wilder film Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. I really enjoyed Burton’s interpretation (no surprise there), although I thought that the flashbacks to the jungles of Lumpaland were a bit much. Burton’s trademark whimsy was infused thoughout, and Johnny Depp was funny and even affable at times as the eccentric chocolatier, who we learn via more flashbacks, was traumatized as a child by his strict dentist father (played by the legendary Christopher Lee).

And there’s a real cute homage to Edward Scissorhands in the ribbon cutting ceremony for the new factory.

Before the movie, there was a preview for Burton’s upcoming stop-motion film Corpse Bride (which Mofo and I are taking Metal Niece and her friends to see for her birthday in September the weekend the movie opens). Now, I know it’s in the style of Burton’s The Nightmare Before Christmas and the movie score was done by Danny Elfman (who also did NBC), but why the hell would they use “What’s This?” from NBC as the music for the preview? Weird.

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In my family, the birthday cake of choice is a hot milk sponge cake filled with fresh whipped cream and strawberries. Everyone gets one especially made by my Grandma for their birthday…except me. Everyone has had their photo taken proudly with their special cake…except me. That is, until recently. Somehow, it took 31 years, but I finally got my cake. (Click HERE to view that golden photo op of me with my birthday cake).

From what I understand, the hot milk sponge recipe has been passed down through several generations, but I think it was my Grandma who added the super-giant strawberries to the top. For years I put off making this cake myself because I just could not find these mutant strawberries to adorn the top.

Since I love to miniaturize everything, I decided to use this recipe to make two 6-inch round cakes (see one of them at right). It came out really well, and since the surface is so small, there’s no need for giant strawberries. Instead, just one modest-sized, fanned-out strawberry for the top was perfect and a nice compliment to the combed sides.

Eventually, I did make the cake Grandma’s way, except I designed the top differently, with piped borders and an overlapping layout of strawberries, garnished with a large mint sprig (see photo just below). I made sure to grab a piece with the mint on it (yum!).

Stabilized Whipped Cream*

For this recipe I used stabilized whipped cream for the piped areas. (NOTE: that’s stabilized, not superstabilized, which is made with gelatin.) To make stabilized whipped cream, use 1 teaspoon of cornstarch, 2 tablespoons of powdered sugar, and 1 cup of heavy cream. Combine the cornstarch and sugar in a small pot and slowly stir in 1/4 cup of the heavy cream. Stir constantly and bring to boil until thickened. Place mixture in a bowl and let it come to room temperature. Once it’s cool, you can stir in the favoring you like to it (say, vanilla extract). Beat remaining heavy cream, then add cooled mixture and beat until soft peaks form. Place in piping bag and pipe away.

Piping Whipped Cream

I only use the stabilized version for piping and sometimes I omit any extra favoring, depending on what I’m piping it on. It’s much sweeter than regular fresh whipped cream (which I usually just make with granulated sugar and heavy cream when making a “frosting” out of it.) To pipe, I mainly use disposable plastic piping bags and metal tips. I put my metal mixing bowl, whisk attachment, piping tips, and plastic piping bags in the freezer for 10-15 minutes before making the whipped cream.

*Detailed recipe can be found in The Pie and Pastry Bible.

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It truly is a sad day. James Doohan, who was famous for playing chief engineer Montgomery “Scotty” Scott on Star Trek, died this morning at 85 after suffering from Alzheimer’s disease.

Scotty was famous for his amazing engineering feats, his love of scotch whisky, and of course, for responding to the call “Beam me up, Scotty.” In his autobiography, Doohan wrote about his initial resistence to the Scotty character typecast and his inevitable acceptance and embracing of it.

Doohan was often told he’d be known as Scotty long after he’s gone. And it’s true. He will forever be remembered and loved.

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I was at my local baking supply store on last week replenishing my cardboard rounds supply when I spotted one of the cutest gadgets ever: a cordless mini mixer (see photo at right).

Though I have a 5-quart stand mixer, an old handheld mixer, various whisks, and plenty of spatulas, when I spied this tiny little 5-inch battery-operated hand mixer and I just had to have it. It’s mini in its purest sense!

Now, what to do with this itty bitty acquisition? Why, make something itty bitty, of course.

Before purchasing this new gadget, I had planned on modifying a mini lemon meringue tart recipe by using Splenda in place of sugar. The recipe yielded four 4-inch tarts and four tiny tarts.

After partially blind baking the dough, which I had made earlier and refrigerated, I made the lemon filling. I adapted a recipe that I found in a small-batch cookbook, but I think there was just too much lemon juice and/or the Splenda is just too funky, because it was really tart (more so than usual). After I added the lemon filling to the tart crusts, it was time to try out the mini mixer. Using the whisk attachment (there are 3 other attachments that come with it), I whipped 2 egg whites til foamy in just seconds. (Go, go, mini mixer extraordinaire!)

I continued mixing while added the sugar substitute, trying to get a peak out of it, but it really wasn’t happening. I didn’t want to overbeat, so when I got the first hints of a soft peak, I stopped and immediately plopped it on the awaiting filled tarts. I’m guessing it was the Splenda more than the mixer that was the cause of this.

I don’t know that I’ll make these Lemon Meringue Tarts with Splenda again. The meringue was just too weird for me. There’s no way to get any height on it and it doesn’t brown up the same without sugar. The consistency was a lot like cotton candy in the way that it melts in your mouth, but UNLIKE cotton candy, there was no sugary goodness leftover in my teeth. It’s just wrong.

Scientists, please, keep working on creating a sugar substitute for baking because as of now it’s far from perfected. And I don’t ask for me. I ask for all those people out there who can’t have sugar, who want to enjoy homemade desserts too.

I brought the tarts to my friend’s house (who isn’t supposed to have sugar) and she was thrilled just to be eating lemon meringue. (And, hell, I ate it too. So did Mofo and Metal Niece.)

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Dave and I went to the Ozzfest on Tuesday at New Jersey’s PNC Bank Arts Center. I wrote an entry about it in my MySpace blog. Here’s the direct link for it: Ozzfest 2005.

Otherwise, I’ve been hanging with Metal Niece this week. I took some time off so we could do some stuff together. On Monday, I took her to the Aquarium in Coney Island. It was a great time to go, since it wasn’t crowded at all, and we were able to walk along the boardwalk too.

She really loved it. We went through the shark pavilion and she walks right up to the glass, points at a shark, and goes, “Fuck you, shark!” If you don’t know what that means, then I implore you, go out and pick up the Harmful If Swallowed CD by comedian Dane Cook. I swear, it will have you cursing at marine wildlife in no time.

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