Hey Harvard.
Well…The Harvard Club. Had a thing there tonight. You know, slummin’ it. I will say, however, I’m pretty sure I’m the only person who’s ever walked into those handsome doors with a hot pink copy of Love Junkie in one hand, and a bag of plantain chips in the other…
My hair tells a different story (one of hostility/ slight mental illness), but I’m really happy I went! The event was called: Chefs Cook for Japan…and yeah, it was basically, chefs cooking for Japan. But really major ones. Hopefully they cashed in, because there was a tres-foodie auction everyone was excited about. I personally took off mid-way because my strapless bra was causing problems…and I wanted to watch Idol. (I’m sorry, humanitarians!)
Definitely got to sniff around first though. Morimoto was there bringin’ it. Sometimes I’d rather bite his precious face than his raw fish. Boulud was being French and darling…and a little dazed n confused. Anita Lo - seriously serious. Jonathan Waxman is so chill,rad and understated that no matter how many events I see him at, I’ll never call him a media whore. The wicked adorable Ken Oringer was there from Boston - we shared some Masshole pride and a very non-Fenway bite of foie gras.
Best person? The man behind the front desk. He snuck me an umbrella from lost and found. So now I have my own Harvard umbrella which is basically like a big middle finger that will forever keep me dry. It was well worth the trip to 44th street just for that…and the François Payard macaroons…and my part in saving the world. Thanks for the invite, for real!
