Readers of this site may know or have gathered that I have a dear friend named Miriam. There she is above with the man who made her, Joel. She lives in New Haven. She is one of my oldest friends, and from the ages of five through twenty-one, we attended school together. A few years ago, in a daring move, Miriam broke from the pack and demanded her own institution of learning. She wasn't shy in her demands, either. For her first school post-Katya, she chose none other than the Yale School of Drama. (Can you even say Yale School of Drama sans italics? Well, I did. So there, Yale School of Drama.)As anyone could have predicted, this brilliant and driven girl has blazed through an outstanding three years at Yale, and is now, as of last weekend, a Master of Dramaturgy, with hood to prove it. Stacey, Catherine and I were lucky enough to spend the day basking in her mortarboarded glory, as I hope to do for years to come.
Following a few hours of the most pompacious pomp imaginable (did you know that Yale has a sceptre crowned with the head of a mythical beast named 'the Yale?' Or that there is a real bulldog? Or that the forestry school are the most wonderful creatures imaginable, and wore most of the the vegetation on the East Coast on their heads?), we headed out to East Rock for a picnic.
We ate many delicious things, sat around, lolled in the sun, and watched bees, and finished off with Miriam's request, a bright pink princess cake shaped like a large hatbox. (My hands are still stained from the food coloring). 
For the cake layers, I used a TWD assignment from later in June, Dorie Greenspan's Perfect Party Cake. Layered with raspberry preserves, pastry cream, and whipped cream, (which mysteriously and marvelously whipped in the containers on the way up on the train), it was an impressive sight. Not quite as impressive as Miriam's diploma, but we can't all be Yalies.
The Perfect Party Cake was good. I think it failed its audition as a wedding cake, but it was indeed the close to a perfect party, so it was well named. Miriam tells me that the remainder of it was consumed at a ladies party the following day, where its fluffy pinkness was so inspiring that there was painting of nails and braiding of hair, followed by intent discussion of the merits of Sweet Valley High vs. The Babysitters' Club.
I am so proud of Princess Master Doctor-to-Be Miriam, and so glad I could be there.
All photos for this post courtesy of Catherine Wallach.
1 comment:
personally, i think there are few things better than lolling in the sun with friends. sounds and looks lovely.
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