I lose myself smelling the top of her head, the nape of her neck. The “newborn scent” is utterly and unforgivably sweet–like the skin of a June peach. Everyone says that it’ll disappear after 3 months. I guess that’s the time when the freshness fades and the world sets in. City air, Mommy’s stress, the cumin-scented hallway begin to settle on the surface, never to leave.

But, for now, she’s the peach on our West Village block. Our little sack of sugar… Our chance to experience something–someone– that only requires kisses and food and sleep.

I want to write more but her little cheeks call. A little nibble and I’ll be back. I’ve actually been tip toe-ing back toward the stove, coming up with fast, delish recipes for all you harried, crazed, desperately-in-need-of-half-a-bottle-of-pinot-grigio moms. Slow- roasted cherry tomato rigatoni is on the menu. But I can’t do anything until after my bite of peach pie.

Baby girl spends a lot of time at the boob. We’re talking eight hours a day. As a loving-though-somewhat-restless mother, I could alternate between gazing at locks of my daughter’s honey brown hair and staring into space OR I could devour a delicious novel (and an embarrassing number of cream cheese brownies from Kitchenette).

I’ve chosen the novel approach.

So I was thrilled when my friend, Tatiana Boncompagni, slipped me a copy of her second novel, Hedge Fund Wives. The juicy read is set in Manhattan, amid an economic crisis that brings Wall Street–and its most privileged class, the hedge fund kings–to their knees. The financiers wives, who can be divided into seven categories–“the accidental, the Westminister, the Stephanie Seymour, the former secretary, the socialite, the workaholic and the breeder”–suffer accordingly. While marriages, friendships and black AmEx cards fold, Marcy, the clear-eyed protagonist, manages to come out on top (with a view of Central Park from the café at Bergdorf’s).

Tatiana is a Manhattan mommy, socialite and author who must have had a crystal ball when she began writing this tale almost two years ago. (I remember being her guest at Ivanka Trump’s jewelry boutique launch a year and a half ago and she told me, with a twinkle in her eye, that she was working on something timely and tasty. Indeed.) Madoff who? What economic crisis? Tatiana’s insight, as an observer and author, are spot on.

Moving from 57th and 5th Avenue to the fields of Tuscany…

“La storia, la famiglia, il cibo, il vino. Questa e la vita dell’uomo.” History, family, food and wine. This is the life of man.

And I’m not arguing. Sergio Esposito’s Passion on the Vine is an eloquent, gutsy take on the mysteries and beauties of wine. He weighs in on everything from his childhood in Naples to his ability to drink elegance, that perfect bottle of Brunello.

I think baby girl and I will stroll over to his Manhattan wine store (co-owned by none other than Mario Batali) today and select a crisp, simple, breath-of-sea-air bottle of Verdicchio. A little taste of white to make the eight hours pass…

On Sunday, I had a craving for foccacia occhio di bue (a fancy way to say “breakfast pizza, sunnyside up”) and a strong cappuccino. So we dressed up baby in her best maryjanesfor for her first brunch at Morandi… 

The Italian waiters were BIG fans of Parker’s ensemble.

Both of us girls (me and my teeny tiny daughter, that is) want something sweet and creamy come midnight.

Unfortunately for Parker, she’s stuck with my milk. While I’ve heard it goes down easy and is the richest, most nutritious food for her newborn tummy, it can’t compare to Jamie’s latest kicked-up concoction: Whipped Banana Pudding. (Follow the link for recipe)

His cheffy secret? Pureeing and then whipping bananas into the pudding mixture. Each mouthful is a burst of fruit, vanilla and perfectly soft cookie.  

Mom and baby drift off into a blissful, satiated slumber…

We’re teaching a couples cooking class! 

Ok, rewind… Let’s talk about my ideal beach experience…

There’s sugar-white sand, cool emerald-green waters, interesting friends and conversation… and kick butt cocktails and nibbles to round out the day. Easy to find, right? Wrong.

A day at the Gulf with my *girlfriends and my **husband usually includes tibbling luke-warm pinot grigio from red Solo cups, picking through a bag of Baked Lays and maybe rounding out the day with a dozen raw oysters, a dozen baked. We flip through US Weekly and InStyle–in between slathering on Clarins sunscreen–and call it a day. (Note-My hilarious *girlfriends do make up for the lack of interesting activities. **Jamie, on the other hand, inevitably finds another sportif husband on the beach and does some sort of physical activity that requires diving in the sand, getting needlessly dirty.)

But now we have Studio B, the brainchild of Colleen Duffley, serving up a big ol’ side-dish of class, culture and fantastic food, at Alys Beach. According to Garden & Gun magazine, Studio B “pairs some of the South’s most creative and talented people with small groups of students” all in the unforgettable setting of Florida’s most beautiful beaches.

Studio B is a creative venue that brings together the best of the best and the up and coming in the fields of photography, art, design, literature, food and wine. It’s the mixing and intermingling of all creative mediums.

To teach, they’ve enlisted the likes of Emeril, Donna Hay, style guru India Hicks (Prince Charles’ goddaughter)… and me and Jamie!

We’re slated as the husband and wife team who will teach you how to cook up simple, elegant dishes and house cocktails, all the while enjoying yourself in the kitchen. Our class, debuting on July 24th, and menu are deeeee-licious.  So pack that Calypso bag and come come join us!

(Pictured: Alys Beach pool, the venue where we’ll enjoy the fruits of our cooking class labor!)

Our latest food column for My Scoop not only features my pregnant belly with an IPod ear-bud, but it also features the musings of my damn funny husband… and two killer recipes.

Over the course of 10 months, Jamie became expert at whipping out fast, nutritious dishes that could just as easily be enjoyed at the dinner table, on the couch or in the subway. This Baby Mamma needed a constant supply of protein to keep her going.

And so before our little egg hatched, Jamie fixed up copious amounts of Chicken and Asparagus Salad with Farm Egg and Tarragon Dressing.

I dare you to make this recipe once–it’ll become a favorite.

(Above photo: Our little chicken–freshly hatched–about to head home from the hospital)

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Parker Lee Briscione

April 28th, 2009

10:47am 

7 Pounds, 14 Ounces

Light Brown Hair, Eyes-Yet-To-Be-Determined (though Mom thinks they’re hazel, just like Daddy’s)

New York, New York