eat drink one woman

The ads are gone! Why? Because I can afford to pay the rent on this place without them.

I'm looking for something suitable to fill the empty space. Stay tuned.

Name: Jeremy Parzen

Occupation: writer, translator, musician

Borough: Manhattan

Relationship status: single

What did you eat today?

Orecchiette with tomato and tuna sauce

What do you never eat?

Boiled lobster that needs to be shelled.

Complete this sentence: In my refrigerator, you can always find:

Chablis

What is your favorite kitchen item?

Vegetable mill

Where do you eat out most frequently?

Cup and Saucer

World ends tomorrow. What would you like for your last meal?

Zampone and lentils paired with Lambrusco

Visit Jeremy's blog, Do Bianchi.

Perfect, native specimens of every fruit on earth
Guacamole with avocados from my own avo tree
Chateau d'Yquem
Petrus
The kind of scotch kept under lock and key
Caviar, blinis, and icy vodka in a windowless, red velvet draped room
Grilled river fish on the Laos-Thailand border with my Mae
White truffle risotto -- one plate, two spoons
A croissant and cafe au lait with a good newspaper in bed on a crisp morning in Paris
The parmigiano-reggiano that the Italians hoard for themselves
Kaiseki in Kyoto
The biggest piece of tah-dig in a family home
Real picanha in Brazil

What's on your food life list?

Apologies for the absence. Work has been taxing. Most nights, I wind up with a foam container of Woorijip by-the-pound, trying to sneak bites in on the late ride home to Sunset Park.

I recently learned the phrase "Christmas cake" -- have you heard of it? Apparently, that's what unmarried women over the age of 25 are called in Japan. Because no one wants you after the 25th. (Tadum-TCH!)

I know I'm a workaholic in part because I'm such a bachelorette. To make matters worse, a friend bought me a one month subscription to an online dating site and, let me tell you, it is grim out there. Bleak with a capital EEK. A few choice e-mail contacts have involved:

A.) The Eucharist who spoke of Jesus's consecrated bread and cup of wine, and how important it is to abstain from flesh offered to idols;
B.) The Japanese-speaking white man who "likes Asian looks" but doesn't want any "grumpy" Asians;
C.) Creative spellings (ackward, optomisitic, specail) in extremely uncreative profiles (I want to hold you, let's listen to the rain together, I like to hang out with my friends for fun.)

I'm judgy, but I don't think I'm being too judgy here. Between that and the pervs that e-mail me with offers for sexual favors, I'm feeling a bit like a marshmallow peep on the discount rack in July.

Whatever. I need therapy. Or a good trepanation.

Name: Jeremy Schwartz

Occupation: Lawyer

Borough: Brooklyn

Relationship status: single

What did you eat today?

cantaloupe, honeydew, strawberries, croissant, butter

What do you never eat?

the vegetarian option

Complete this sentence: In my refrigerator, you can always find:

a pint of spoiled milk

What is your favorite kitchen item?

peeler

Where do you eat out most frequently?

Vinnie’s Pizza (Bedford between N. 8 and N. 9)

World ends tomorrow. What would you like for your last meal?

The scallops followed by the monkfish at Le Bernardin.

Need to scratch a theater itch but don't want to cross the picket line? Check out Milk-n-Honey at 3 Legged Dog.

It's a play! About food! My friend is working on it. If I couldn't pimp my friends' work out, what kind of blogger friend would I be? I don't have time to go see it because it closes on 11/18, but you should go and tell me all about it.

Milk-n-Honey
3 Legged Dog

Once the mercury dips below fifty, there's nothing better than huddling over a steaming, porky bowl of ramen. Friday night was just one of those nights, so my friend Julie and I decided to hit the East Village's Setagaya.

I think ramen fans fall into the noodle camp or the broth camp. Relative newcomer Setagaya is definitely a joint for noodle lovers -- firm and not too long, this ramen lacks the curls we're used to, making for good chew, fewer tangles and easier slurping. The marathoner's breakfast-sized dish of tsukemen noodles were like extra chewy linguine, served with a tepid dipping broth of extra salty shio broth full of fat-striped pork hunks. The noodles are ice-cold -- appealing in the summer months, I'm sure, but not when you're trying to warm up from inclement weather.

I happen to be on team broth, and Setagaya's broth just didn't sing for me. The shio (salt-based) broth is mostly clear, with a few oil vacuoles hovering by the curve of the bowl. For a broth made from pork bones, dried scallops, seaweed, dried anchovies and such, it lacked the funky complexity I'd hoped for. The salt was there -- what it lacked for me was a sweetness to round it out. The cha shu pork slices were a little dry for my taste, though I did love the addition of the medium-cooked egg half, its yolk golden and liquid.

Appetizers also lacked oomph. Deluxe menma salad was composed of limp strips of bamboo shoots, half a soft-boiled egg, and grill pan-marked squares of toughish pork with an odd orange juice sweetness that didn't really appeal to me. The vegetable gyoza were cabbagey and pale, with a dipping sauce that could have used more hot sesame oil kick.

But beyond the food, there's something oddly cold about the place. Fishbowl glass walls wrap around the 1st Ave. storefront and a dead foyer where listless patrons line up to get seated. Tall tables and stools provide plenty of space overhead and underfoot, with lighting so bright and cold, you feel like you're about to be interrogated. I just don't think the room's design really works for ramen soup. Cold weather should be about the cozy huddle, getting low to the ground. I found myself missing the atmosphere of Rai Rai Ken as much as the food -- ducking down under the noren curtain, hanging my coat on the wall hook, setting down to a low stool and tucking my feet under the long wooden bar to hunch over a steamy meal. I guess I know whose side I'm taking in the ramen wars.

Setagaya
141 First Ave. at 9th St.
212-529-2740
6 to Astor Pl.

I've been just so busy, busy scissors. Hopefully YAWYE will return by next week. My apologies!

The Times' weddings section, keeping it real:

“I just wish I had met Mei Sze 20 years ago.”

Yeah, when you were 32 and she was 12, Pinkerton!

Holla! Look, proof that I sat at the same table as Ruth Reichl! Looks like you could slice the tip off my chin and dip it in barbecue sauce. Whatevs, they spelled my name right!

I didn't actually do any chef stalking, sadly. I came, I saw, I concurred. And then I went home with a pocket full of mini tabasco bottles and moisturizer samples.