Blake Lively — the anachronistically beautiful star of Gossip Girl and of director Ben Affleck’s next Boston drama, The Town — falls into a vinyl booth, pushing a squall of sweet air across the table. Her black top is unzipped almost to her bare stomach. Classic rock plays from a tinny speaker.
BLAKE LIVELY: I thought maybe that guy was you.
She nods at an old, old man sitting at the counter wearing a cowboy hat, muttering.
The Man Life: Disappointed?
BL: He might be more interesting.
The waitress arrives, or, rather, hollers over from a few yards away.
BL: Can I have the turkey club, please?
WAITRESS: Mayo on it?
BL: Yes, please. And I want fries. And can I have a side of ketchup and mayonnaise, please?
TML: When you have precious moments away from being a big celebrity, what do you do?
BL: I love to cook.
TML: What do you cook?
BL: Everything. Homemade ice cream, soups. I just bought ingredients to make a key-lime mascarpone tart with a pistachio crust.
TML: What’s something I could make?
BL: Go get some corn tortillas, fry them up — you know, you use tongs to hold them into taco shape — ground beef, taco mix, grilled onions, cheddar cheese, and pickles. Think about it: A hamburger as a taco. Also, one day right before Christmas last year, I made French toast using eggnog instead of milk, with this bourbon maple syrup. It would make you want to cry.
Her turkey club, cut into four triangles, each impaled by a red-cellophane-topped toothpick, is three-quarters gone. She pushes the last segment across the table.
BL: Try this.
TML: Oh, no thanks.
BL: Eat it.
TML: How am I going to tie in the cooking angle to Women We Love?
BL: Well, I cook in Louboutins.
TML: In what?
BL: What are Louboutins?
BL: [Incredulous.] Christian Louboutins. High heels, with the red bottom. Are you kidding?
TML: The part you walk on?
BL: Yeah, this part.
She lifts her foot onto the Formica, presenting a black shoe with a five-inch heel, and points to the parts that would be red on these other shoes she’s talking about.
TML: So are you saying you sometimes cook in just those?
BL: Well… [Grins.] I just think it’s very attractive when people cook. So I don’t wear sweatpants. When you dress sexy to cook, too, it’s like, damn, I got a girl who can cook and look like that? And I always have really cute aprons.
The diner is empty. An afternoon sun is blasting through the windows and over the sleek armature of Lively’s shoulders, making the red-and-white-checked tablecloths appear to glow. “Margaritaville” is playing.
TML: God, Jimmy Buffett.
BL: Who’s that? You’re old.
Post Submitted by: Matt Germain