There was never any doubt.
It was the best night of my writing career.
If I never write another thing (god forbid) I will always
have this Authors Night memory and be content.
While I regret a few things and would have changed a few others
things there is so much pure, inescapable joy, pride and satisfaction that I’ll
fold up those thoughts like a familiar lace handkerchief and put them in my
pocket for now.
The morning of August 10th sparkled. By the time I arrived in East Hampton, the
day was shimmering -- as if in anticipation of the star-studded competition the
evening would bring to the glory of the day.
I had taken the jitney to the East End, and alighting in
East Hampton, a taxi driver suddenly appeared just as I retrieved my bag from
the belly of the bus, and we made our way posthaste to the East Hampton Hotel. This low-slung motel looked like something
straight out of a Rat Pack Las Vegas-styled 1960’s film.
Don’t get me wrong – the hotel/motel was
clean as a whistle, scrubbed white and green but its Jetson-styled slooping
roof and open cinderblock design reminded me of the early Caesar’s look right
out the award-winning Martin Scorcese film, “Casino.”
It was sweet. And simple. What’s not to like?
I readily unpacked my few things, hung up my lace dress and
jacket for the evening. I was glad I
hadn’t rolled the outfit into the travel bag – transporting it in a garment bag
instead. So all was still crisp.
I had plenty of time before the East Hampton Authors Night
book signings under the tent was to begin so I figured I’d indulge in something
to eat.
I learned from the front desk that Bostwick’s was within walking
distance and headed over but not before spotting the stack of the Hamptons Magazine that included a
full-length feature story about the East Hampton Authors Night – and the
Hamptons Magazine-hosted dinner at the home of editor Michael Braverman that
was to follow the Library event.
And I was included in that feature story! Page 54 in the magazine: http://hamptons-magazine.com/digital-edition
I still had my head in the clouds from reading the digital
version the night before, having discovered the link on the East Hampton
Library’s Facebook page while doing some social networking.
So with the glossy and glamorous copy of the magazine in
hand, I sashayed over to the restaurant.
Well, in fact it was more that I picked my way along the
mini highway that is Pantigo Road, as the cars race by, not unlike La Mans.
Which is kind of a crazy contrast to the bumper-to-bumper snails pace getting to the Hamptons.
Ensconced in a seat at the bar, I indulged in a lobster roll
and Brooklyn beer and the magazine. Perfect.
I was so elated by the story and the sensual delight of holding it in my
hands.
This was no digital deceit!
The feature was real.
I had to share it with somebody – anybody. The bartender was my likely candidate so –
like a kid who brings home refrigerator art, I asked, “Do you want to see a
story about tonight’s Authors Night? I’m
in it.” Hopeless, I know…
Now being properly satiated, it was time to get ready for
the evening.
Like a warrior getting ready for battle – or perhaps a
better analogy is a thespian preparing to take the stage, I got changed and
applied some make up and got my hair looking good. In fact, I thought overall, I did look good. The poison ivy on my face had cleared up
pretty good. There was little to no
humidity and so there was no make up melt and, overall, a good hair day.
How quickly things can change.
I waited for my Homegrown friend and enthusiastic supporter,
Toni Sabatino to arrive. Toni is a very
talented kitchen designer. She (not a
he) was to be my roommate and one of my guests for the evening’s festivities. She’d come across the Forks and had run into
someone’s medical emergency on the Shelter Island ferry – but no worries, I
reassured her.
She composed herself and looked great and we were ready.
She drove us to the Authors Night under the tent.
 |
I got my gold bracelet stamped “Authors Night.”
Normally I do not allow these branding bracelets – aka wristbands
anywhere near me – I find them offensive and degrading.
Not this one. I felt the bracelet was a badge of honor. And Tiffany or Cartier could not have
designed a more dazzling piece of jewelry even if I was the Duchess of
Cambridge.
A volunteer escorted me to my book-signing table; I was overjoyed
and relieved to see it was right near the entrance: up front.
Squeezing between my table and the author’s to my right, I
saw that my table-mate was Padma Lakshmi.
If you’ve been under a rock – Padma was the host of Food
Network’s Top Chef, was married to
Salmon Rushdie, graces the cover of countless magazines, including this issue
of the heretofore mentioned Hamptons
Magazine and was part of the same feature I was included in. She was to be a fellow, author co-host for
the evening’s dinner party, too. Our
paths had truly crossed. We were fellow scribes…
I silently gulped.
While it would no doubt be fun and exciting to spend the
event signing books with Padma, the honest truth is she is so very famous and
beautiful and tall and has a new book out plus will be starring in a new TV
show - that attending guests would look right past me. They’d have eyes only for the very tall (did
I say that again?!), very talented Padma.
The good news/bad news is Padma was a “no show” for the
Author Night event under the tent…
Only a few people took her book to purchase, which is a
shame for the Library. Some others asked me where she was and I had to say I am
not Padma’s keeper…”
But I am here,” I smiled.
It was controlled chaos under the tent. In fact, from the time we arrived, there
wasn’t a moment I wasn’t signing books and posing for pictures or taking photos
of the Homegrown fans.
 |
| Me and Dan - from East End's beloved & popular Dan's Papers (newspaper) |
It was work.
And still more guests were arriving.
 |
| Swedish Culinary Students, me & Chef Bryan Futerman, Foody's |
In about an hour, I was sold out of two cases of books!
Nothing left to sign for the last hour.
It was then I realized how hot it had gotten under the tent. I whipped out my hand-held fan and began to stylishly but earnestly wave the hot air.
Too late.
I could feel the make up melting off my eyes fearful I was
looking more Emmett Kelly than even author Kitty Kelly – who, by the way, was the
next author over from me since Padma wasn’t there. (I rarely to never wear face
make up so at least I could be thankful there weren’t rivers of foundation
puddling on my cheeks.)
And then the hair tragedy.
It was now flat. Limp.
I was looking more old-school librarian than Hamptons
Library supporter.
 |
| Dawn Watson, The Press, caught my "glow" |
But there was nothing that could be done…
It wasn’t for me that I cared. Well, maybe a little. It was
I wanted to uphold the glamorous, East Hamptons Authors Night provenance…
I was proud we had done so well and in such a short
time.
Post event, the East Hampton Library wrote of the event's overall, soaring success: 104 authors under the tent along with more than 2,000 guests. In addition, 700 guests attended the 26 dinners. Donations were still coming in but estimates are that the tally exceed $300,000 in revenue for the Library!
Post event, the East Hampton Library wrote of the event's overall, soaring success: 104 authors under the tent along with more than 2,000 guests. In addition, 700 guests attended the 26 dinners. Donations were still coming in but estimates are that the tally exceed $300,000 in revenue for the Library!
Bryan Futerman, Foody’s
restaurant owner and chef and a featured Homegrown chef in the Cookbook was my
other Plus +1 for the event and dinner guest.
Chef Bryan was so kind – he stayed at the table and
autographed books right along with me.
That was a lucky-strike extra for the Homegrown fans!
For those who are not familiar with the evening’s format,
I’ll describe it for you.
Plus, I saw a News 12
TV piece where Authors Night co-founder Alec Baldwin pointed out that the
format has now become a model, inspiring other libraries’ fundraising outreach.
But I doubt that others can match the East Hampton Library’s
star power and setting. There is nothing like the literi gliteri there.
Guests pay for tickets to the benefit. They are able to taste fabulous treats – from
hors d’ouevres to sweets, along with wine and other drinks – while walking
around, chatting up famous, favorite or new authors, and getting them to sign the
guest’s books of choice.
When they have gathered enough for a small library – they
check out – with all the monies benefitting the East Hampton Library.
So, I had planned for Chef Bryan to simply enjoy the food
and drink there at the event and walk around and meet the famous authors who
were present.
But he elected to stay with me.
Bryan is adorable and I welcomed his company and support.
When we depleted our book inventory, except for one, I
turned my gaze and attention to what was happening around me.
Gwyneth, Goop and
Good Food
It was then that I saw all this sustained commotion to my
left. And there in our table pit – meaning the center of our Author table area
– was Gwyneth Paltrow.
I could see right away she
was not having a bad hair day.
Smart cookie – she had it tied back in a sleek ponytail.
And that was complemented by a stunning and equally sleek
white dress. Tom Ford?
As I was remarking about how lucky I was to be at this table
pit intersection – Chef Bryan and Toni urged me to give my last book to
Gwyneth.
Yes, why not?
So as quickly as each of us could tap her name into our
smart phones to insure proper spelling - my Plus +1’s were spelling her name
and I was penning, “G-W-Y-N-E-T-H, Enjoy the beauty, romance and taste of
Homegrown Long Island.”
And I signed my Leeann with a particularly dramatic swirl of
the L, if I do say so myself.
Holding my book in arm: school style – I took the few steps
over to where Gwyneth was signing up a storm.
I really didn’t want to interrupt her.
I started by sidling up to her penning side – her children
Moses and Apple were on her left – beaming for all the guests, clearly so happy
and proud.
Husband Chris Martin, Coldplay
musician, was on the guest side of the table – in the book-loving melee
chatting it up and looking like he’d made the rounds of the other Authors by
the look of the books he was holding.
 |
| Chris Martin with his Authors Night books |
 |
| How cute are the apple cheeks on Apple?! |
After mugging it up for my camera that Toni was snapping –
it was getting silly with me smiling next to Gwyneth and she intent on book signing
so that the images would look like I was standing next to a cut-out or Madame
Tussaud figure of the Academy-Award winning actress.
I took the plunge and sat down next her saying simply,
“Sorry, I hate to interrupt but I so wanted you to have my book – my last
book.”
And she turns, inches from my face – so I can’t help notice
she doesn’t have any pores… She is glowing. In a good way. Not in a melt-down
glistening way.
No, she is the cover girl of healthy, authentic luminosity.
Then Gwyneth chirps – in an altogether too adorable way:
“Your book?!
“I have the book!”
“I Love the book!”
“What?!” I reply,
stunned,
I am gobsmacked Gwyneth loves the book. Hey, I’m just thrilled she knows of it. The
fact that she already has it and loves it starts to settle on me like a warm
spring day.
Life is good.
But wait. Now I’m in a pickle.
I blurt how great this is and say: “I’m thrilled you have
and love the book!
But, but, ohhhh I just signed this one – my last one – to
you!”
We both start laughing like startled school friends who just
discovered another’s secret boyfriend.
She returns to signing books while keeping an ear.
I put on my thinking cap and pull what I think is a rabbit
out of my hat.
“Why don’t I add your mother’s name?” I ask hopefully.
“That’s a Great idea!” she offers.
But seriously, what is she gonna say when I’m just inches
away – “That’s a Homegrown re-gifting if I ever ...”?
While we both agree on this Homegrown solution – and for the
record -- I adore her mother, Blythe Danner and have loved her stage work
especially, as well as her films.
Then I make a strategic blunder. Rather than add Blythe’s name there and hand
it directly to Gwyneth -- for some inexplicable reason, I return to my Authors
Table and pen “Blythe” in the comfort of my Authors turf while pondering how
one family can have such kingdom names: Blythe, Gwyneth, Moses, Apple…
When I grew up I was the only Leeann but that doesn’t seem
to be in the same league as these marquee names.
As a big aside, the other simpatico connection I – and my
cousin Maryann – share with Gwyneth – is our abiding, unconditional love for
our fathers.
All of who have left this world for that part of heaven
reserved for first-class fathers.
I rather wear my feelings for my father on my sleeve and so I
sometimes felt that perhaps others might think me too personal or dramatic when
sharing my deep abiding love for my father.
Then I read Gwyneth saying her father was the love of her
life.
I shared that with Maryann.
If others can accept Gwyneth’s declaration of filial love, then they
could accept and understand mine. And Maryann's...
And Maryann is putting the finishing touches on her homage
to her father with a cookbook filled with healthy comfort food and family meals
– not so unlike Gwyneth’s “My Father’s Daughter” cookbook that “celebrates the
joy preparing food for
loved ones, a passion she learned from her beloved father,” according to
the book’s overview.
The other link I have with the culinary cutie that is
Gwyneth clearly is the food.
We both advocate for whole foods. I emphasize locally grown and seasonal
ingredients.
And taste…
Back to the event.
Before I could return to Gwyneth with the signed book, there
was more Hamptons royalty who’d just arrived.
I turned to see Alec Baldwin and his gorgeous wife,
Hilaria. There was a phalanx of
photographers and lookers now surrounding the already buzz-worthy Gwyneth
table.
Mrs. Baldwin was radiant. While very, very pregnant, she
wears it so well.
In fact, as the two of us talked in the Authors table “pit” she said
they were returning to town that night because their doctor said they were
pushing the envelope.
 |
| me/author & beautiful Hilaria Thomas Baldwin |
Hilaria is my Gotham yogi master. Her studio is around the corner from our
apartment.
After trying several yoga studios in my Greenwich Village
neighborhood, I found my yoga home. I love her, the studio, and the staff.
And in fact, Hilaria had me do my first headstand. After
success, we joked I wasn't a headstand virgin any more J
No Baldwin Blurb
In terms of the book, I have somewhat of a history with Mr.
Baldwin.
I will explain.
And I wish I had shared this funny and somewhat tortured connection
with Hilaria as we talked in the Authors pit.
The Baldwin blurb saga began a few clicks earlier.
I was so fortunate and thank my lucky stars that Brian
Halweil agreed to do the Forward for my book. Brian is the editor of the New
York magazines: Edible New York, Edible East End and recently – Edible Long
Island (did the Homegrown book influence this direction? Hope so!) Brian is also a senior fellow at
the Worldwatch Institute covering food and agriculture and he is also
co-director of Nourishing the Planet.
I had wanted to find a way to ask Mr. Baldwin if he would do
a book blurb for the Homegrown Cookbook.
After all, he is a Long Island native and I read he frequented a number
of the restaurants featured in Homegrown.
It was a natural fit, I thought.
Then not long after, Edible East End ran a story with Mr.
Baldwin and Brian rhapsodizing about the Peconic Bay and East End oysters. (Which are very, very spectacular if you
haven’t tasted this bit of the Milky Way on your tongue!)
I called Brian and well, one thing led to the next.
Eventually, I met up with Mr. Baldwin at a benefit for the
Two River Theater in Red Bank in the Garden State – near our country
house. I thought it was an ideal
situation to bring up our mutual points of interest: culture, politics, humor,
Long Island, restaurants and food and – but before I could explain in clear,
complete sentences about the book and my modest request for a blurb, the moment
was gone. I get very unnerved around him. I blather. To the point he leaned in and
asked, “So what do you want me to do?”
Before I could respond, I resorted to pictures. Thinking it might help if like a proud parent
I could show off the progeny – (and a picture is worth a thousand words – and
since I hadn’t progressed too far past monosyllabic conversation, I took out a
few pages of the then-almost complete manuscript that I thought would trigger
warm recognition of cozy dinners at 1770 House and Nick & Toni’s and…. But
before I could unfurl a page, he stopped me. Or rather demurred.
Is it a legal thing?
Not sure but I respected his request.
I did get a nice picture of us together that night... (Too funny - or sad - that I was wearing the exact same ensemble!)
He suggested I contact his business partner and manager,
Monica.
Which I did, eventually.
Monica is a true professional and has a great sense of
aplomb, discretion, and humor.
While she appreciated my request, she had to decline due to
Mr. Baldwin’s oversubscribed schedule.
Even if I wrote it and he/they edited – there was no way.
While clearly disappointed I accepted it and her kind offer
to help with the book when it was published.
It wasn’t until spring of that following year that I started
taking yoga at Hilaria’s Yoga Vida Studio.
Almost the same time that Mr. Baldwin and Hilaria discovered each other,
now that I think about it.
I was taking the Friday morning class because there was no
sense rushing out of town – our country house was under renovation. Hilaria taught with such joy and exuberance I
think I was falling in love with her, too.
When I saw her on ET, I couldn’t believe it! How exciting!
And suddenly, it seemed, she and Alec were an inspired
couple.
When she told us at the end of a class in June or so that
she’d be taking some time off – her first real vacation in like forever – we
all knew it was to help celebrate the engagement. In fact, I went up to her after class to
congratulate her and just like a best friend, she showed off her beautiful
engagement ring. I took her hand and
wished her the very best, saying she deserved all the joy and happiness in the
world. She brings so much of that to all
of us…
As things turned out, Alec was waiting for her after our
class siting on the sofa. I had to stop
in the ladies room, as I wasn’t returning to the apartment, rather I was on my
way to the Greenmarket to compost. In
the powder room, the women were all giggling and tweeting. Cute.
I thought the soon-to-be Baldwin couple would have left by
the time I got ready to leave. But
no. I tried to avoid his gaze as this
was about the same time that woman was stalking him. But then we all ended up in the same
elevator. Arrghh. Head down.
Nice elevator conversations though…
When the Homegrown book was published, I wrote to Monica and
offered to send the now happily married couple a Hamptons & Long Island Homegrown Cookbook.
I could’ve dropped it off at their apartment building, which
is also around the corner from us.
Monica suggested I send it to 30 Rock. Why didn’t I walk it
up?
I mailed it the same day as another book going to
Canada. I did have a signature request
for the Post mailing at least.
Weeks later, I remembered to check in with Monica. No, they hadn’t received the books, she said.
I sent one to Mr. & Mrs. Baldwin and one to Monica.
She said things were crazy as Alec was doing the “Orphans”
play on Broadway, the TV hit "30 Rock" had ended and there were so many baby
gifts that had been sent to the office - so things were kinda’ crazy. We had some funny email exchanges. I had the
signature from the 30 Rock mailperson who signed for the books, at least.
And then, Monica then wrote that she found the books – they
were sent to the apartment, after all.
So you see, this abbreviated story would have been a lot
more charged than me asking the banal questions about baby names. Sigh.
Hilaria might’ve gotten a kick out of the intersections of New York
lives.
This was one of my regrets of the evening.
The other was not taking some time to get fixed up for
dinner following the heady and hot Authors Night under the tent.
But we were giddy with anticipation and were soon heading
over to the Hamptons Magazine dinner at Michael Braverman’s. The biggest and most prestigious of all the
dinners that night…
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