Good morning, wolfings!
On the anniversary of of Bart’s death, we come together again. Now, at the halfway point of the season, and in remembrance of Bart Bass, we think a dignified black and white cookie is appropriate.
We particularly like how well we match Chuck. Poor man, this anniversary isn’t going well for him. While Chuck always seemed to be more connected to “reality” than the rest of this crew, this episode has him suddenly hallucinating his weirdly-tanned dead father. And seeing i.r.l. his not-dead mother. How’s that for doubling?
Maureen is also trying to have it both ways. She is willing to be Tripp’s wife in public, and let Serena have him in private. This is almost as doomed to failure as Lil’ J’s new career in drug dealing.
On a side note, we do find it plausible that Rufus would have missed for so long that he is a kept husband.
Of course, we can’t ignore the car accident, an echo of last year’s tragedy. But instead of betrayal, this crash is attributed to all the wild wolves that live in upstate New York. Darlings, X hates to be critical, but this stretches even HER overactive imagination. This is Nassau county. Why not deer? Deep in denial, she tried to call them coyotes, for a while, but they are just too big. We will all have to live with this wolf-pack as the show’s clunky analogy for our U.E.S family.
But that family metaphor is what we love best about this show, yes? How Blair and Serena and Nate and Dan and Jenny and Rufus are all their own worst enemies, and as they marry and sleep and lie their way into each others’ lives, the tangles become complicated to the same extent that they redeem? This is why we watch: Nate repeatedly punches members of his literal family in defense of the figurative one this show has built, and we love him for it. Remember all the times Serena took the hit for Blair? Or when Dan fought his worst instincts and tried to treat Serena like an actual human being instead of an offense against his personality? They don’t get it right often, but when they do, they break our hearts.
We apologize for waxing philosophical: we know you came here for the food and the gossip. (But it is sweet, isn’t it, how Blair knows Chuck so well? His transformation from date-rapist to strong, loving boyfriend may finally be complete. We’ll stop now!)
See you in March, with much celebration and ado.
xoxo,
J & X
Evening, loves!
We are truly thankful to be here with you again. Even our families can hardly console us for the loss of GG.
After all this heavy holiday food, we’re ready for something light and tart. Lemon chiffon pie fits our craving, and we’re topping it with some cranberry sauce in a nod to the Thanksgiving that rocks the UES.
We do so LOVE a good dinner revelation, and this episode gave us a good half-dozen.
Let’s start with the gritty: Lily and Maureen learned of Serena’s affair, B suspects her mother of pregnancy (which could be the thing which eventually drives this only child completely batty), Rufus found out Lily’s lie about CeCe, Jenny learned of E’s scheme at Cotillion, and Serena found her mother’s letter. Even V and her mother had a showdown. Our family meals are never this exciting, but then again, our family is not Manhattan royalty.
This pie gets its lightness from three stages: first, we make a a curd of egg yolks and lemon juice that solidifies over heat, then we whip egg whites with sugar until solid and fold them into the lemon curd, then we beat some cream to soft peaks and fold those in again. You have to find the right balance when folding, or the whole thing collapses.
But back to the episode. In a nice turn of phrase, Elanor gives up her Manhattan throne to Blair, which we dislike because we want to see more of Elanor and Cyrus, but is the inevitable consequence of B’s rise to power. And B & S are making plans again, which warms our hearts on the coldest days.
To our dismay, S chooses to go with Trip instead of B. If only she had some long term memory in that beautiful head of hers, she would remember that she also chose Gabe over Blair’s protests, and that didn’t end well for her either.
Next week looks to be a doozy, kids. Like this last photo: messy and delicious.
xoxo,
J & X
As you know, there is no episode this week. Our Thanksgiving will be bleak indeed without you, but even Gossip Girl herself has a family.
Hope your week is filled with lots of delicious pie, and the perfect ratio of cinnamon to nutmeg.
xoxo,
J & X
Loves,
It is with great trepidation that we approached this week’s episode. Our set-up from last week was so magnificent that we were already apprehensive, and then we received word that the Great GaGa herself would be joining the cast. We almost sat this one out because, short of a 10-foot spun sugar statue– which is beyond even J’s skill and equipment– there may be no way to do proper reverence to the Lady through baking. We are humbled, poor beggars at the throne, and our offering, while in the spirit of the Gaga, is simply not enough. GG, you have bested us once again.
Dan’s play, like every episode of this show, is full of enchanted mirrors. So we made our own. Glass starts with sand: here’s ours.
So many broken things this episode: Lonelyboy and Olivia, Dan’s terrible play, Tripp’s marriage. And even Nate and Serena’s chain-mail necklace and shoulder pads combined can’t protect S from her latest bad romance.
We heartily approve of Chuck rescuing Jenny. Remember when he tried to rape her? Who knew he would grow up the fastest… If only she didn’t want so desperately to be homeless again. (Perhaps if waffles weren’t so big in the Humphrey household, she wouldn’t be so easily seduced by a Belgian druglord.)
Chuck knows. He’s been on the other side of the enchanted mirror, down the rabbit hole, through every magic doorway there is, and he came back. Lil’ J is his sister now, can she make the same return?
The Gaga will not be imitated. Her performance, coming after Hilary Duff’s pale impression of her in cabaret, was awing and gorgeous. It makes our candy shards look less like shards of broken, stained glass and more like abandoned aspirations.
We hope you don’t mind too much. Like always, we just want your love.
xoxo,
J & X
WELL, kittens.
What a night: Gossip Girl gifted us with our much bally-hooed threesome, Blair and Serena’s annual make-up (in an elevator, which nicely echoes Serena’s elevator break-up with Dan– mostly because that moment didn’t stick either), and Lil’ J continuing to leave everything that smells like Brooklyn behind, including basic human decency.
Since three is the order of the day, we’re paralleling with Tres Leches: three kinds of sweetened, gooey milk poured over cake, then wrapped in a chocolate glaze. We’ll let you decide which stands for Dan, Olivia and Vanessa, but we will say that this bowl of milk looks a lot more wholesome than it really is.
These cakes are practically souffles: they puffed up a little more than we planned, and one overflowed, leaving a smokey mess in our oven. Maybe we’ll eventually learn not to play with proportions, unlike Jenny, who never will. (Finger-only gloves? Our frivolity is well-documented, but there is no excuse for this. In fact, we are more bothered by these finger shields than her scheming.)
Tres Leches are about finding the perfect balance. Pour too little, and you’ve missed the point. Too much, and you get a soggy mess. Perhaps Olivia is wishing now that her movie came through–a forfeit would have made her rule-changing easier on everyone.
But let’s all be pleased that S & B are on the same side again. At least, until Tripp writes Serena a letter about salads under palm trees while hiking the Appalachian trail, and Blair has to mercy-kill them both.
Perhaps we shouldn’t be so worried. Like us, Serena usually manages to turn her messes into something pretty and artful. It’s her natural rhythm, cotillion or no.
The real question in our minds is whether Dr. van der Woodsen of MSF is all he claims to be. Perhaps he is a “doctor” in the same way that Serena is a “publicist”? Breeding will out, we suppose.
Until next week, loves. We wouldn’t be trapped in an elevator with anyone other than you.
xoxo,
J & X
