Either I Got An Amazing Deal, Or I May As Well Have Thrown $30 Into The Sea

My mom called me back, concerned. "Is everything ok?" she asked. "What's wrong?" I had called her four times in a row. I explained the situation, and she grew agitated. "Get back there right now!" she exclaimed. "Hurry!"

You see, I had found a pair of unworn Tory Burch Reva flats (MSRP $195) for $29.95 at Beacon's Closet, but they were just a little too small. I had called to ask if they stretch, and then left the store without them, proud of myself for sticking to my new-ish "don't buy it if it isn't perfect" standard. Mom informed me that this was stupid. I'm now wearing the flats with ski socks around the house, which is a really great look.

Mom had good reason to yell. My biggest shopping blunder happened in 2007, when I found a probably-genuine Louis Vuitton Damier-print Speedy 25 handbag (MSRP $855) at Beacon's Closet for $25, and left it there because the handles were falling off. My mom held her head in her hands when I told her this and quietly asked, "what do you think cobblers are for??"

Having learned from this disastrous decision, I've since overridden my fears and purchased a slightly-too-short vintage Diane von Furstenburg silk shirt dress for $40 (gorgeous, but can only be worn at the tail end of a diet, or with seriously opaque tights), and now these shoes, which make me look like a rich lady with a slight limp.

I should learn how to sell things on eBay.

This Is A Pizza

Before Panicky moved to Ohio, she worked in food PR, which means I got a lot of free cookbooks. One, This is a Cookbook, has found its way into a permanent spot on the kitchen shelf, mostly because of pizza. Max and Eli Sussman, one of whom worked at the great Bushwick restaurant Roberta's, inspired me to finally, finally make pizza at home, and it turns out that it's really easy. Mindlessly easy. Pizza has become a fallback dinner, when we don't have enough of anything else in the house except flour (like, one time we used Polly-O string cheese as a topping). Last night's version, with an improved topping of fresh ricotta, was subpar - the crust never got crispy - yet, was still quite good. Try it, people, do not be like me and assume homemade pizza is hard!

Slick of tomato sauce + turkey sausage + ricotta + kale + spicy honey = too many toppings = vaguely cooked crust

(Alternatively, the pizza place down the street has never disappointed, except when briefly closed by the Department of Health).

Pizza Dough
Combine a cup of warm water, a teaspoon of sugar, and a packet of instant yeast in a mixing bowl. Let sit for 5 minutes. Add 3 cups of flour and a tablespoon of salt. Attach the dough hook to your stand mixer and let it run on medium-low for ten minutes. No stand mixer? Order delivery, sorry. I mean, knead it by hand until it feels like dough, about ten minutes (I'd order delivery). Cover the bowl with plastic wrap or a damp towel and let sit out for two hours (it can rise in 30 minutes if your apartment is particularly warm, but two hours does the trick for me), or, if you thought ahead, for 8-24 hours in the fridge.

The Pizza Itself
Preheat the oven to 450. Oil a baking sheet and stretch about half the dough (I freeze the rest; it defrosts in 30 seconds in the microwave) over it. Get it nice and thin. Top with the dregs of a jar of sauce, cheese, bits of meat and veg, whatever you have lying around. Pop it in the oven for ten minutes - more if needed - and you're done. That's it! That's really it!

Things I Think About When I Think About Icebergs

"Ice. It's trippy, symphonies frozen, the unconscious come to life, and smacking of color: blue. [...]

There was something unspeakably noble about their age, their scale, their lack of consciousness, their right to exist. Every single iceberg filled me with feelings of sadness and wonder. Not thoughts of sadness and wonder, mind you, because thoughts require a thinker, and my head was a balloon, incapable of thoughts. I didn't think about Dad, I didn't think about you, and the big one, I didn't think about myself. The effect was like heroin (I think), and I wanted to stretch it out as long as possible."

- Where'd You Go, Bernadette

"Christopher lifted his chin and looked up at the Dright's face. The smooth brown features did not have any expression on them at all. But Christopher stared, trying to see the person behind the blankness. What feelings the Dright had were so different from his own, and so lofty, that for a moment he felt like an insect. Then he remembered that glacier, years ago in Series Seven, which Tacroy had said reminded him of two people. Christopher knew that one of the people was the Dright. Like the glacier, the Dright was cold and high and too crusted with ancient knowledge for ordinary people to understand."

-The Lives of Christopher Chant

"Sometimes it was so great I couldn't believe how lucky I was that I got to be me. We'd pass icebergs floating in the middle of the ocean. They were gigantic, with strange formations carved into them. They were so haunting and majestic you could feel your heart break, but really they're just chunks of ice and they mean nothing."

- Where'd You Go, Bernadette

"What Lies Beneath"

- This is the title of a mediocre Harrison Ford movie. It has nothing to do with ice.

Small Injustices

When Amanda Hesser was editing the food section of the NYTimes magazine, she unearthed recipes from the 1930s and reworked them to modern standards. She interviewed cool people and pried out their secrets for the best scampi. I actually learned something from it.

Now, Mark Bittman shares that you can prepare shrimp in a pan OR the oven. Because I guess that section is now for people who have never before prepared food.