Observer » Jessica Seinfeld

Morning Memo: Joe Francis Attacks Samantha Ronson; The Seinfelds Get Sued; Britney Spears’s Father Keeps the Reins

Caroline Bankoff — Wed, 29 Oct 2008 09:18:45 -0400

Joe Francis called Samantha Ronson "jealous" and "wretched," to which Ms. Ronson responded, "I think he's one of the more disgusting human beings in the world because of what he does . . . He's a [bleep]bag." She also recalled a recent run-in when Mr. Francis "said hello to Lindsay [Lohan] and looked over at me as if I wasn't a human being. He's got no manners." [P6]

Missy Chase Lapine, author of children's cookbook The Sneaky Chef, is suing Jessica Seinfeld for copyright infringement. She is also suing Jerry Seinfeld for joking about it. [NYDN]

Brtiney Spears's father Jamie was granted "permanent legal control" of her. He has been acting as his much-improved daughter's "temporary [conservator]" since Feburary, so we guess the move is more positive than creepy. [US Weekly]

Fallout from the Battle of the Boncompagni Sisters includes the publication of some interesting emails authored by Park Avenue Peerage's James Kurisunkal. [Cityfile]

Possibly disappointing club Citrine was the location for Hannah Bronfman's (daughter of Warner Music Group chair Edgar) 21st birthday party, where she hung out with her brother, Exit's Ben Brewer, and his fiancee MIA. [P6]

Jessica Seinfeld Responds to Plagiarism Claims on 'View'

David Foxley — Mon, 19 Nov 2007 19:46:58 -0400

Jessica Seinfeld, the gastronomically inclined wife of comedian Jerry Seinfeld, went on The View today to promote her cookbook, Deceptively Delicious—a collection of healthful recipies designed to appeal to tots. She also took the on-air opportunity to respond to all the recent criticism surrounding the book. (Soon after Ms. Seinfeld’s book was published, some people pointed to the striking similarities between her creations and those in The Sneaky Chef, a cookbook by Missy Chase Lapine.)

As paraphrased by The Huffington Post, Ms. Seinfeld told the midday talk-show co-hosts: “Missy is jealous because her book didn't debut at the top of best-seller lists and get her on Oprah. And why would Jessica steal recipes, because she doesn't need the money, anyway.” Watch the video here.

It’s All Just Self-Promotion: Social Climbing Is Dead

David Foxley — Mon, 05 Nov 2007 16:07:38 -0400

Today, beneath a pretty picture of a New York sunset, David Patrick Columbia reports that he doesn’t much mind that his online gossip column is often referred to as a “gossip column.” Then, in reference to the Times Fashion & Style piece about Jessica Seinfeld in yesterday’s paper, Mr. Columbia explains that reporter Allen Salkin contacted him to find out if, in his view, Ms. Seinfeld was indeed a social climber. It seems Mr. Columbia doesn’t think it’s possible for someone to be a social climber anymore, because, as he writes, “things are moving too quickly. What people can be is self-promoting.” (In the columnist’s view, self-promoting is what makes New York City “go.”) Mr. Columbia wraps up his rant by drawing an interesting connection between the Seinfeld marriage debacle and a 1975 movie starring Charles Grodin. Seriously.

Mr. Columbia writes:

"The Seinfeld marriage story was actually first a movie, written by Elaine May, the great comedienne and one-time partner of Mike Nichols. It was called “The Heartbreak Kid,” starring Charles Grodin and released in 1975. In it the character played by Grodin meets someone else on his honeymoon and ditches his wife for her. The ditched “wife” is also a whining princess and the new girl is hot hot hot, and so it’s easy to see the motivation. Either or, which would you choose? Well then, who can honestly criticize Jessica Sklar Seinfeld? It’s years later. She’s got three kids. She writes cookbooks (at least sorta), she gets baby clothes for mothers who need them. She does TV, like Oprah and The Today Show. So she likes a little attention. Buy the cookbook; make yourself something scrumptious to eat. For that you can thank Jessica. And your friend Seinfeld for marrying her and getting her into the New York Times. The Paper of Record."

The Crime of the Social Climb [NYSD]

It’s Purée Hell! Testing Jessica Seinfeld’s New Kiddie Cookbook

Miranda Purves — Tue, 02 Oct 2007 16:16:04 -0400

The conceit of the new book Deceptively Delicious: Simple Secrets to Get Your Kids Eating Good Food, by Jessica Seinfeld (wife of comedian Jerry), is that children are priggish eaters who, when left to their own devices, will eat only white or fried food. Trying to force-feed them nutrition leads to endless frustration. So the smart parent tricks them by puréeing the vegetables and hiding them in palatable, nonchallenging meals: lasagne, pancakes, meatloaf or chicken soup.

I describe the book as having a conceit because it’s a work of fiction. No one will actually follow the rigorous mixing and freezing and scheming Ms. Seinfeld prescribes. I’m equally repelled by and attracted to her program. Without apology, Deceptively Delicious fully indulges in that retrograde 1950’s version of domestic life where the woman controls everything and does all the work happily from the back seat, and so cunningly that the husband almost thinks he’s the one with all the ideas and the map, driving the car.

On the other hand, who doesn’t have fantasies about being that sort of wife—that is, when one is screaming at a baffled spouse: “Why do I feel like I should thank you right now? I do this every day and you don’t thank me!” Moreoever, I, like all privileged upper-middle-class Western world mothers, am a control freak who knows for sure I have failed if my 2-year-old, Woolfie, is not eating vegetables or whole grains in each of the eight small meals he’s supposed to be ingesting daily. I’m a perfect patsy for this book’s promises. I decide to give Deceptively Delicious a shot.

Day 1

Ms. Seinfeld on her puréeing process: “I have a standing date with my husband in the kitchen every Sunday night after the kids have gone to bed. We do a good catch-up while I purée the night away … and when I’m done I feel so virtuous.”

My husband is away on a business trip. After a hellish pilgrimage to Brooklyn’s Grand Army Plaza green market, wrestling unwieldy cauliflowers and kales into my NRDC tote, the last thing I want to do is purée the f*ckers! Still, I steam a massive bunch of iron-rich chard, then throw it in the Cuisinart, to hide in her ridiculous mac-and-cheese recipe. Ms. Seinfeld puts a box of store-bought Kraft on the counter to trick her children. Woolfie has been brought up without that crap ever entering the house, so is delightfully unfazed by his Tony Duquette-like pink-and-green dinner (the red chard stems dyed the whole-wheat macaroni). He takes a few mouthfuls.

Day 2

At dinner, Woolfie responds favorably to an avocado purée dip, an easy one, but I’m exhausted at the thought of prepping more purée, not to mention horrified at using environmentally unfriendly Ziploc bags, Ms. Seinfeld’s method, to freeze it. I noticed in a Vogue story covering one of the author’s children’s parties a photo of Julian Seinfeld, her middle boy, holding up a gigantic beet from her garden, tended organically by her gardener. Yet her book says nothing at all about eating organic or local vegetables. Is it not for the masses, Ms. S.?

Day 3

Yay! It’s Monday. Over to you, dear nanny. I ask her to make Woolfie Ms. Seinfeld’s meatloaf, which uses ground turkey and carrot purée, for lunch. She looks mildly annoyed. We substitute ground beef and the leftover chard. Woolfie won’t touch the green-flecked loaf.

I have to work late, and my husband, who unlike Mr. Seinfeld actually cooks, agrees to purée beets for pancakes tonight. We are mystified that the recipe calls for pancake mix, all the more so because Ms. Seinfeld apparently makes her own ketchup. Still, pink pancakes for dinner are a hit.

Day 4

My husband fashions whole-wheat pita pizzas for lunch, a recipe that suggests hiding a thin layer of puréed greens under store-bought tomato sauce and low-fat mozzarella. He reports that although the spinach doesn’t remain invisible, as the recipe claims, Woolfie eats almost an entire pita. Later, he announces that he hates Ms. Seinfeld, arousing me to almost honeymoonlike ardor.

Against the author’s advice, we meet at a restaurant for dinner, toddler in tow.

Day 5

For dinner, I decide it’s not cheating if I use a recipe from Deborah Madison’s just-out revision of the fantastic Vegetarian Cooking for Everyone, because it’s a recipe that calls for puréed kale, barley and cave-aged Gruyere with an easy stovetop roux and milk or broth. It takes 30 minutes to steam the barley, but it seems like real food, rather than the Deceptively Delicious recipes (I mean, rolling puréed turkey and low-fat cheese into whole-wheat tortillas for Tortilla Cigars? She’s got to be kidding). But Woolfie refuses the fancy gratin.

Still, the experiment wasn’t a total failure: I have a freezer full of beet purée, and some leftover pink pancakes. I can’t wait to invite some of the closet-uptight other So-Slow (as I call South Park Slope) mothers over for these. “They’re healthy too!” I’ll gloat, as the kids gobble them down.