Happy birthday to me…or at least to part of me. It was exactly one year ago—March 6, 2007—that I underwent my life-changing preventative mastectomy and came out with my new breasts. Sorry to disappoint, but there are no “before-and after” shots linked to today’s entry. Best I can do is report that while I have slight incision scarring, everything has healed up quite nicely, and the biggest aesthetic upside (literally!) is the gravity-defiance factor. Quite simply, silicone rocks! And while so far I’ve stuck with these adorable C’s, which were the largest implants the surgeon felt he could prudently insert at the time for my best shot at complete skin and nipple healing, I may swap…


During the curtain call at Curtains last night, after David Hyde Pierce hopped off his wheeled horse and took a bow, he complimented the wonderful audience and told us that the very first Broadway show his parents took him to was Kander & Ebb’s Zorba back in 1968, and here it was 40 years later, and he was actually on the stage performing a show by the legendary Kander & Ebb. Why would he tell us all that? Because last night was “Kids’ Night on Broadway,” and he was hoping to inspire many of the young audience members to keep on coming back to the theatre and to follow their dreams because you never know how far they’ll take…


In teaching Torah yesterday as he became a bar mitzvah, Ben explained that you only truly understand certain things (in this case mitzvot) when you actually do them. As an example, he said, “I could stand here today and tell you all about this cool roller coaster called Boulder Dash I went on at Lake Compounce last summer on my trip from Eisner Camp. I could tell you that it’s almost a mile long, it goes up to speeds of 60 miles per hour, it dips and climbs, its biggest drop is 115 feet, and the ride lasts for two-and-a-half minutes. But unless you experience it yourself, you’re never going to feel the thrills, the chills, the butterflies…


On an expert recommendation, we sat at the exclusive counter at L’Atelier de Joël Robuchon at my happy place, the Four Seasons Hotel in NYC. The small space, which seats 46 diners, is exquisitely contemporary, appointed with sleek honey-colored walls and floors, black banquettes and red accents that pop in a very sexy way.

It was just the two of us, and we kicked off our evening with some spectacular rosé champagne and then decided to split an astonishing array of share plates. The sublime standouts were sea urchin in a warm fennel broth, langoustine carpaccio with poppy seeds, and exquisite tiny beef and foie gras burgers topped with lightly caramelized bell peppers and served with the most ethereal, fluffy,…


Last Ones to the Spelling Bee

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MY Re-JEW-venation

The Talmudic rabbis way-back-when figured that at 13, a boy was old enough to know right from wrong and therefore become responsible for fulfilling the mitzvot (commandments) that are part of being a Jewish adult – in other words become a bar mitzvah. While it’s a pretty dubious concept today that a teen knows enough right from wrong (Jamie-Lynn you ignorant slut!), the unintended yet fortuitous benefit of the rabbis’ proclamation is that modern parents of a 13-year-old are given an invaluable opportunity – to connect (or reconnect) to their faith in a more reflective, spiritually meaningful way.

Maybe it’s just me, but I’ve seen a lot more life go by since the day we stood with our tiny eight-day-old…


Holiday Treat at the Met Room

Last night was a delightful example of how the simple things can often be just as special as glitz and glam. It was a charming contrast to the “big” stuff we’ve been doing lately in the City.

Let me back up a bit. Yesterday was December 17th, my mom’s birthday. She would’ve been 65. Last year (the first year she was not with us), by coincidence, it also happened to be her yahrzeit (the anniversary of her passing on the Jewish calendar). Because we had had a long-planned cochlear implant checkup in NY scheduled on the 18th, we decided to travel from RI on the 17th with the whole gang for a little adventure in the City. We zipped down…


The Nose Knows at Cyrano

Kevin Kline is Cyrano in the limited 10-week run of Cyrano de Bergerac on Broadway. Kline embodied the droll and tragic large-nosed hero so magnificently in the masterfully-directed play that I can’t imagine anyone better in the role. The actor is simply brilliant on the stage.

The first act of this classic story tipped perhaps a little too much toward the comic than the romantic, but the set design was perfectly dingy, and the second act was dramatic and powerful. Jennifer Garner was decent as Roxane, but she paled in comparison to Kline. While she has an adorable charm, she lacks the soulfulness to be a character on a dramatic stage. Her style is much more well-suited for the screen.

After…


RESTAURANT REVIEW: Craft

S’top chef! As a dedicated viewer of Bravo’s Top Chef, I am now seriously questioning the critiques decreed upon the contestants by head judge Chef Tom Colicchio. That’s because I ate at his restaurant Craft over the weekend, and if the food we were served is any indication of Chef Colicchio’s top standards, I’m not wowed.

I had been delighted to score a four-top on Saturday night at 8. We had arranged plans to celebrate the recent engagement of a darling young cousin of mine and meet her fiancé, so I had been checking Open Table for a couple of weeks to find something special. I had reserved tables at two other restaurants (one was a great restaurant but the…


The Schtickmeister

One of my favorite quotes ever was a wife’s lovely tribute to her husband – “I get excited when I hear his key in the door. It’s like ‘Ooh! The party’s going to start.’” Quick – any idea who said it? The enamored wife was the wonderful late Anne Bancroft, and the mate to whom she referred, of course, was the extraordinary Mel Brooks.

To close out our musical month of November, we had long-held tickets for Mel Brooks’ new stage version of “Young Frankenstein” – a musical adaptation of his 1974 screen creation. To be blunt, I was less “whelmed” than I thought I’d be.

Don’t get me wrong. There is no one who comes even remotely close to Mel…