This soap. Oh my dear sweet baby jeebus!
It smells..just like…Mourvedre, which is one of my
favorite grapes. My brother got me the Lush Purple Haze gift pack for my birthday, and this soap was
the highlight. If you are not familiar with Lush, I’m
so very sorry. It’s a line of fresh, hand-made
bath and body products that are a great value for all
of the luxuriating each item provides. A visit to the
Lush store is like…Willy Wonka diversified. In this Ooh La La Soap–lavender, rosemary, thyme, and organic grapes are the main smelly componants. Inspired by the fields of Provence, it’s no wonder it smells like Mourvedre. Wanna know what else smells like Mourvedre? Mourvedre.

In other news… It has become fashionable of late for brick and mortar news media to rip on blogs for their facile, amateur nature. Much like the Bush administration rips on the brick and mortar news media. No doubt both bully for the same reason, to discredit that which stands against them. But as a gentle reminder to the one-foot-in-the-grave pulp mill that is The New York Times, I offer the following exhibits as the best & worse that this ilk have to offer this week:

Experiment: My Crowd, Part 1 by Bill Wasikof of Harper’s Magazine
    Wherein Bill explains the purpose of the mastermind (himself) behind the most embarrassing fad ever, the flash mob. You remember the flash mob, right? All the hipsters say, “hell yeah!“
    Then allow me to say “Doh!” and “Gotcha,” suckahs! Silly hipsters, the flash mob was about you. Oh, and The Strokes suck.

Alex Witchel’s Ripples in the Finger Bowl in The New York Times
    Is this for real? I…I…I…don’t know what to say. It’s the Marie Antoinette of food columns. At first I thought it was someone stealing from Bret Easton Ellis’ American Psycho. Nope. Just a dime-a-dozen, vainglorious New York socialite serializing her dinner party “woes.” Crikey. You kill a tree for this shite?
    Oh, and Ms. Witchel? Foie Gras and Sauternes? So 1985. Trite gourmet, really. For true gourmands, Muscat de Beaumes de Venise is what’s de rigeur with foie gras, or late harvest Steen if I may dare towards avant-garde.