- “No one really thought about why glasses were so expensive.” The founders of Warby Parker explain how they subverted the eyewear industry and brought us spectacles that don’t break the bank. (via Racked via Time)
- Rugby brings the Tweed Run to New York City. Get thee to the streets. (via Marion Brewer)
- And the funniest thing you’ll read today: Chelsea Fagan for Thought Catalog on what the hell is going on with street-style photography. (via Marion Brewer)
The French omelette, unlike our American counterpart, isn’t about the filling. In its pure state, there’s nothing but eggs, salt and pepper. Done right, it’s tender, elegant, understated, charming…everything you wish you were as a conversationalist. Making one requires technique. A bunch of gooey cheese and ham won’t be there to help matters, so you just have to cook it well. No pressure.
It may sound counterintuitive, but cook yours first. Not only will it ensure hers is hot when you serve them, it will season the pan. Like pancakes, the second one is always better.
The technique I’ve settled on is to add a teaspoon of water for each egg, which hits the hot pan and immediately evaporates to lift the eggs and make the omelette fluffy. This is an exercise in timing. But judging from what it took to get you here, you’re already a master of that. Unlike scrambled eggs—which are all about patience and coaxing—the omelette is a 30-second, high-heat affair. You can’t hesitate. Pour in the eggs, never stop shaking the pan and have the coffee already made.
The French Omelette
- 2 tablespoons butter
- 2 eggs
- 1/4 teaspoon salt
- 4 grinds of fresh pepper
- 2 teaspoons cold water
- 1 tablespoon chopped fresh herbs (optional)
(Serves one. Repeat, but don’t double, for two. Omelettes are cooked one at a time.)
1. In a mixing bowl or measuring jar, combine the eggs, salt, pepper, and water. Whisk vigorously to combine.
2. Heat a small skillet between 8 and 10 inches wide, preferably nonstick, over medium-high heat until drops of water dance on the surface. Add the butter, which will sputter and foam. When the foam subsides, and the butter just begins to color and smell nutty, add the egg mixture all at once.
3. Immediately, begin to shake the pan to distribute the eggs all over the surface and up the sides. Technique varies; some suggest pulling up the sides of the omelette and tilting the pan to let uncooked egg slide under, or using a spatula to gently break holes in the eggs to let uncooked egg run there. What’s important is to never stop shaking the pan. It helps prevent any browning, a sign that the eggs are tough and you’ve overcooked it. Remember, it will keep cooking off the heat. If desired, sprinkle the interior of the omelette with herbs or a little sharp cheese.
4. Using a spatula, fold one side of the omelette one-third of the way toward the opposite side, like the first fold of a letter. Tip the omelette out of the pan with the folded side towards the plate, then roll it onto the dish so both sides are folded under. Serve immediately with buttered toast.
3) rag & bone button down, 14.5 oz selvedge “Henley” denim by Baldwin, desert boots by Clarks.
This is one of the most expensive pieces I first bit the bullet on after I graduated college. But that’s okay: There comes a time in a new man’s life when you gotta. This guy has been my lifesaver, my wool blend charcoal blazer by Billtornade.
|Above: Shrunken wool-blend blazer by Billtornade, baby blue oxford by American Apparel, thrifted striped tie, natural leather belt by Urban Outfitters, 14.5 selvedge “Henley” denim by Baldwin Denim.|
A navy blazer is another solid option. A nice weight with a little sheen never hurt either.
|Above: Blue cotton blazer by Shades of Grey by Micah Cohen, oxford button-down by American Apparel, wool tie by BDG, corduroy pants by rag & bone.|
Or a camel blazer that looks sick with a nice pair of olive chinos, dark-wash denim and charcoal slacks.
|Above: Shrunken wool-blend blazer by Billtornade, thrifted camel feather suede blazer by Lanvin, cotton navy military jacket by J.Crew.|
Or, throw a curveball:
|Above: Thrifted brown leather bomber jacket, 14.5 selvedge “Henley” denim by Baldwin Denim, mustard suede derbys by 1901.|
On Oliver: Selvedge denim, black wool “University” jacket, navy grandpa cardigan, grey chambray button-down and wool plaid tie—all by J.Crew.
On Jeff: Thrifted cotton hunting jacket by J.Crew, fire-red down sweater by Patagonia, 14.5 oz selvedge “Henley denim by Baldwin Denim.
Whatever your pick, wear it. A third piece is always nice to have and surely ties the outfit together.
A man should know how to compliment a woman’s appearance. But ask the nearest lady, and she’ll tell you that when it does happen, it too often sounds like an oafish come-on. It shouldn’t need to be said—but we will anyway—that focusing all the attention on her sexuality is out of line. The art of the compliment is not a free pass to get suggestive; it’s an opportunity to make her feel great about herself. Here’s how:
Say it right away. This particular brand of admiration is appearance-based. So as soon as you see her, tell her how lovely she is. Wait too long, and it’ll seem like you’re searching for something to say.
Don’t use a 5-cent word. Avoid anything even remotely similar to hot, sexy, smoking, etc. Don’t make her feel like a piece of meat. At worst, it’s offensive; at best, it displays a glaring lack of creativity. Women are objectified enough as it is. Be the exception. And for God’s sake, don’t say she looks “nice.” It’s like telling a guy he’s “cute”—the most mediocre praise.
Don’t use a 50-cent word. Steer clear of words like ravishing. Beyond the term’s sometimes vulgar connotation, it’s also a measure of grandiloquence that’s probably best reserved for your poetic efforts. Instead, opt for something simple yet charming. Beautiful, lovely, glowing, wonderful, stunning, gorgeous, and terrific are all appropriate; pick one that feels natural.