At the afternoon screening of Bridesmaids on Baker Street this afternoon, the audience was not female-dominated. In fact, it was about evenly split between the genders and there were several groups of guys, unaccompanied by any women, which, I guess, proves the points various people have been trying to make about the film: it's not about whether the characters are female, it's about whether they're funny. And they are pretty funny.
As someone who has seen 50 movies so far this year of which only three were funny (Potiche, Killing Bono and Morning Glory) and none of them were that funny, I may not be in the best position to judge comedies. I haven't really watched many films of the ilk of Bridesmaids for over ten years, back when I was amused by its younger, male siblings like American Pie and Road Trip, which somehow seemed to make perfect date movies. I like dark, edgy crime thrillers, sharp political thrillers, histories, tragedies, and so on; and if I must see a comedy, it should at least be dark and/or satirical. I like Clerks, I like Juno, and I love Mean Girls, to name just a few from my highest rated films on IMDb. And yes, I also like Shakespeare in Love, The Kids Are All Right, The Princess Bride and (the remake of) Ocean's 11, none of which are particularly dark, so I don't exclusively watch films that will make me cry rather than giggle.
As for Bridesmaids, well, I'll start by saying that I'm no longer a fan of gross-out comedy and there was a pretty gross -- and long -- scene in this movie. It isn't really any grosser than American Pie or what I imagine happens in the Hangover but you don't normally get to watch this kind of thing happening with a group of smart, 30-something women in a posh bridal-wear shop. Nonetheless, I was grateful to return to the "it's funny 'cause it's awkward" type humour seen in the rest of the film.
At the start of the film, we see that Annie (Kristen Wiig) is rather down on her luck. Her cupcake bakery has gone out of business, her housemates (one of whom is Matt Lucas, of all people!) are weird Brits, she has no money and she is the friend-with-benefits of Don Draper -- I mean, Don Draper's light-hearted but callous alter-ego. Wait, did I say she was down on her luck? Anyway, this is all OK because her BFF Lillian (Maya Rudolph) is also in a rut and has an increasingly flaky boyfriend Dougie, who doesn't seem to want to commit. But then Dougie proposes and Lillian asks Annie to be her maid of honour. Annie is thrilled...on the outside, while secretly being a little jealous and scared that she'll lose her friend. And then things get worse when at the engagement party (thrown by Dougie's boss), Annie meets Helen (Rose Byrne), the wife of Dougie's boss and, it seems, Annie's new BFF.
Rich, beautiful, confident and just damn good at maid of honour duties, Helen doesn't find it hard to make Annie look bad in front of Lillian and the others. Sometimes, she doesn't need any help (like when the food at the "edgy" Brazilian restaurant Annie chose for the girls' pre-dress-fitting lunch gives them all food poisoning, leading to the aforementioned gross-out scene). Other times, Helen gives her a helping hand (getting Annie to unwittingly mix booze and some kind of pills to "help her calm down" on a plane), and as everything else in Annie's life continues to spiral downhill, being fired as maid of honour is the last straw, although you just know that everything will turn out OK for the moment when Lillian says, "I do." And you also know that Helen will prove to have issues and insecurities of her own, beyond her perfect hair and mad competitive wedding planning skillz. And you also know that Lessons Will Be Learned.
Nonetheless, the script was funny and the dialogue seemed very realistic (some of the women definitely seemed like Mean Girls plus 15 years). After Annie, pushed by Helen, has just ruined yet another wedding-related event, Lillian yells, "Why can't you be happy for me and then go home and talk about me behind my back like a normal person?" She then clarifies to one of the servants at Helen's house that Annie is not allowed one of the party favours (which turn out to be real, live Andrex puppies). With all the complaints about Bridezillas, it was quite refreshing to see some Bridesmaidzillas here, even if one of them is sympathetic and likable; maybe I'm just saying that because it's easy for me to emphasise with Kristen Wiig's character. Either way, I'm just glad that PhDE's wedding, hen party and so on, passed with plenty of smiles and laughter but without the bitching, backstabbing, one-upwomanship and grossness of Bridesmaids.
26 June 2011
The Sins of the Fathers...
Ahead of going to see Bridesmaids tomorrow, I thought I'd better balance things out by watching a much darker, deeper film. Having seen the trailer for Incendies almost every week at the Curzon for the past month or so, I knew it would definitely fit the bill.
Jeanne and Simon Marwan (Mélissa Désormeaux-Poulin and Maxim Gaudette, respectively) are 20-something twins living in Montreal. Their mother, Nawal, has recently -- and suddenly -- died and they are called to the notary to hear their mother's will. She leaves everything to them but says that they aren't allowed to give her a gravestone or an epitaph until they have helped her keep a promise by finding their father and their brother and delivering them each a letter.
Except they thought their father, whom they never met, was dead and they didn't know they had a brother. Simon doesn't want to play but Jeanne searches her mother's apartment for clues, finds her passport, a crucifix and a few other things and heads off to the unnamed Middle Eastern country (probably Lebanon) where their mother was born and grew up. Her mathematics supervisor sets up a meeting with a contact at the university where Nawal studied but this is just the start of a long and complicated search for the truth. "You're looking for your father and brother but you don't really know your mother," one of the characters tells her.
Jeanne's search is interspersed with her mother's story, starting with her Muslim boyfriend being murdered by her brothers because he slept with their Christian sister, bringing shame upon the family. But Nawal was pregnant and so her grandmother makes a deal: she'll arrange to have the baby adopted as long as Nawal heads to the big city and gets an education. All goes to plan until civil war breaks out and, guilt-stricken, Nawal hurries into the war zone in the south to try to rescue her son from the orphanage. Nawal's search turns out to be as fruitless as Jeanne's, at least initially. The latter eventually begins to find clues, with the help of the notary and Simon, who eventually comes to join her. But let's just say that there aren't any joyous reunions. "Sometimes it's best not to know everything," says a man who knew Nawal while she was in prison to Jeanne.
Based on a stage play by Wajdi Mouawad, itself loosely borrowing from Sophocles, Incendies didn't feel much like it had been adapted from a play, although at 2 hours 10 minutes, it could have done with some tighter editing. But despite its length the story was very gripping and the characters -- especially the female leads -- were engaging. There are plenty of twists and turns and although I didn't see most of them coming, I didn't anticipate the big reveal, which was devastating. And in case it isn't emo enough (and it's plenty emo), songs from the Radiohead album Amnesiac play from time to time...
Incendies isn't the film to see if you're in the mood for some light-hearted cinematic fun but if you're in the mood for something heavy-going but rewarding, I'd highly recommend it.
Jeanne and Simon Marwan (Mélissa Désormeaux-Poulin and Maxim Gaudette, respectively) are 20-something twins living in Montreal. Their mother, Nawal, has recently -- and suddenly -- died and they are called to the notary to hear their mother's will. She leaves everything to them but says that they aren't allowed to give her a gravestone or an epitaph until they have helped her keep a promise by finding their father and their brother and delivering them each a letter.
Except they thought their father, whom they never met, was dead and they didn't know they had a brother. Simon doesn't want to play but Jeanne searches her mother's apartment for clues, finds her passport, a crucifix and a few other things and heads off to the unnamed Middle Eastern country (probably Lebanon) where their mother was born and grew up. Her mathematics supervisor sets up a meeting with a contact at the university where Nawal studied but this is just the start of a long and complicated search for the truth. "You're looking for your father and brother but you don't really know your mother," one of the characters tells her.
Jeanne's search is interspersed with her mother's story, starting with her Muslim boyfriend being murdered by her brothers because he slept with their Christian sister, bringing shame upon the family. But Nawal was pregnant and so her grandmother makes a deal: she'll arrange to have the baby adopted as long as Nawal heads to the big city and gets an education. All goes to plan until civil war breaks out and, guilt-stricken, Nawal hurries into the war zone in the south to try to rescue her son from the orphanage. Nawal's search turns out to be as fruitless as Jeanne's, at least initially. The latter eventually begins to find clues, with the help of the notary and Simon, who eventually comes to join her. But let's just say that there aren't any joyous reunions. "Sometimes it's best not to know everything," says a man who knew Nawal while she was in prison to Jeanne.
Based on a stage play by Wajdi Mouawad, itself loosely borrowing from Sophocles, Incendies didn't feel much like it had been adapted from a play, although at 2 hours 10 minutes, it could have done with some tighter editing. But despite its length the story was very gripping and the characters -- especially the female leads -- were engaging. There are plenty of twists and turns and although I didn't see most of them coming, I didn't anticipate the big reveal, which was devastating. And in case it isn't emo enough (and it's plenty emo), songs from the Radiohead album Amnesiac play from time to time...
Incendies isn't the film to see if you're in the mood for some light-hearted cinematic fun but if you're in the mood for something heavy-going but rewarding, I'd highly recommend it.
22 June 2011
I'm Having Such a Good Time, I'm Having a Ball
This year, St Jocks' turned cinq cents and as part of the celebrations, the annual May Ball was bigger and better than ever and, importantly for me, provided more tickets than usual for alumni, although apparently, I was still pretty lucky to win a double ticket in the ballot. While I was a student I went to our college's Ball every year — yes, there are other balls to try but the college next door's is the only one that comes close and their tickets were too hard to obtain. It was the same every year (technically, the themes changed from year to year but this had minimal effect on the overall experience) but it was fantastic every year and if it ain't broke, don't fix it.
After a five year break, it was fantastic to come back and celebrate St Jocks' from MDXI to MMI. Actually, although the Ball was bigger, it wasn't all that different from most of the others I attended. There was a huge range of different food and drink on offer. I consumed, in approximate chronological order: strawberries and Champagne, pick and mix sweets, a burger, a raspberry martini, a Curiosity Cola, some very fine cheese, a Pimm's-like Summer Cup, a blueberry cupcake, candy floss, a Yorkshire pudding (no room for beef), fish and chips, some treacle tart, a G and T, a bacon bap and some coffee. In small portions, of course, so I didn't fill myself up. Also on offer were: Bloody Margarets (in honour of the foundress), curries, hog roast, ice cream, a fruit mountain, pancakes and plenty more. The best thing is that the food and drink rarely runs out (unlike at lesser balls) and because the variety is so great, the queues are never too long.
The theme this year was the college's history, focusing on six notable alumni (a social reformer, a poet, a former PM, a polar explorer, the Indian PM and a science fiction writer) and the aforementioned foundress. They aren't necessarily the most famous alumni, although several of them have rooms named after them in college, but were clearly chosen in part to provide themes to the different sections of the Ball, each hosted in a separate court. One court, for example, became India, with a giant, gold elephant, a painting of the Taj Mahal, curry and Cobra beer, and a chill-out tent, as well as the stage for the main music acts. Another section, in honour of the polar explorer, held fake snow, penguins, frozen vodka and ice cream.
And of course, the fireworks are always excellent. They seemed bigger, better and longer than usual this year but this might just be because I've had to put up with mediocre fireworks for the past five years. The Backs are the perfect setting for a spectacular show.
The weather behaved perfectly -- not a drop from yesterday afternoon until I left my B&B this lunchtime -- but I didn't miss being freezing and knackered at three am before the sun started to come up. With aching feet and only a shawl for warmth, you start to think, "maybe I should just go to bed." But we resisted, gambled away our chips in the casino, had some caffeine (in my case, poured most of the weak, milky but still scalding coffee over my hand), and were rewarded with a bacon sarnie and a great cover of Hey Ya by the Ella Funks before it was time for the aforementioned five am a cappella fun.
And then, at sometime after six-thirty, we sauntered away to catch a few hours of sleep, via a certain bridge for one last leap before sleep. I'm exhausted now but it was great to go back.
After a five year break, it was fantastic to come back and celebrate St Jocks' from MDXI to MMI. Actually, although the Ball was bigger, it wasn't all that different from most of the others I attended. There was a huge range of different food and drink on offer. I consumed, in approximate chronological order: strawberries and Champagne, pick and mix sweets, a burger, a raspberry martini, a Curiosity Cola, some very fine cheese, a Pimm's-like Summer Cup, a blueberry cupcake, candy floss, a Yorkshire pudding (no room for beef), fish and chips, some treacle tart, a G and T, a bacon bap and some coffee. In small portions, of course, so I didn't fill myself up. Also on offer were: Bloody Margarets (in honour of the foundress), curries, hog roast, ice cream, a fruit mountain, pancakes and plenty more. The best thing is that the food and drink rarely runs out (unlike at lesser balls) and because the variety is so great, the queues are never too long.
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| Lotus Leap in "India" |
The theme this year was the college's history, focusing on six notable alumni (a social reformer, a poet, a former PM, a polar explorer, the Indian PM and a science fiction writer) and the aforementioned foundress. They aren't necessarily the most famous alumni, although several of them have rooms named after them in college, but were clearly chosen in part to provide themes to the different sections of the Ball, each hosted in a separate court. One court, for example, became India, with a giant, gold elephant, a painting of the Taj Mahal, curry and Cobra beer, and a chill-out tent, as well as the stage for the main music acts. Another section, in honour of the polar explorer, held fake snow, penguins, frozen vodka and ice cream.
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| The Gents in action |
As I said before, though, the themes are always somewhat incidental as there is such a huge range of different things to do, from live music (including the rapper Big Boi who, according to the ents committee member standing behind me in a queue, who had met him, "isn't very big; he's only five eight. He's quite fat though,"; folk, jazz, D&B, and various bands doing covers, as well as the college's choir who performed a cappella versions of various pop songs at five am), to stand-up comedy, dodgems, a casino, a caricature artist, magicians, dancing, massages, and so on. Unless there is a music act you particularly like (this year there wasn't), you can just wander from court to court eating, drinking and enjoying the show.
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| The spectacular May Ball fireworks |
And of course, the fireworks are always excellent. They seemed bigger, better and longer than usual this year but this might just be because I've had to put up with mediocre fireworks for the past five years. The Backs are the perfect setting for a spectacular show.
The weather behaved perfectly -- not a drop from yesterday afternoon until I left my B&B this lunchtime -- but I didn't miss being freezing and knackered at three am before the sun started to come up. With aching feet and only a shawl for warmth, you start to think, "maybe I should just go to bed." But we resisted, gambled away our chips in the casino, had some caffeine (in my case, poured most of the weak, milky but still scalding coffee over my hand), and were rewarded with a bacon sarnie and a great cover of Hey Ya by the Ella Funks before it was time for the aforementioned five am a cappella fun.
And then, at sometime after six-thirty, we sauntered away to catch a few hours of sleep, via a certain bridge for one last leap before sleep. I'm exhausted now but it was great to go back.
18 June 2011
NYC: Getting High
Since it opened to the public in 2009, the High Line has been one of my favourite things to do in New York. Once a disused, elevated railway line, it has now been refurbed and converted into a varied public space/garden. Previously, I hadn't spent much time in the Meatpacking District or Chelsea and the High Line provides the perfect excuse to walk off a brunch or cocktail from the Standard Grill or Pastis.
Initially, the High Line took you from Gansevoort Street in the Meatpacking District up to 20th Street in Chelsea but a new section, stretching all the way up to 30th Street, opened the week before we were in the city and so it's even better than before. The next phase will take you to 34th Street and then round the corner, hopefully providing a good photo opp for the Empire State Building (in the meantime, they have provided an artist's impression of what the new section will look like; I did, of course, take a zoomed in photo of this so that I could pretend I had taken the photo myself).
As well as the water features, sunbeds and art in the lower section, there is now a modern-art-sculpture-cum-bird-feeder, several sections of auditorium-style seating giving overhead views of 10th Avenue and Chelsea, and a whole host of other things to discover. Plus, there is usually some combination of busking, vendors selling quirky products and interesting food, and other entertainment.
There were also plenty of joggers on our visits to the High Line, including a number of large groups of runners (and yogis, under one of the bridges). I assume someone organises jogging tours of the High Line; if not, they will soon. I can imagine it would be a great place to run although if I did so myself, I would have to do it early in the morning or when it's raining to avoid the crowds. My inner cat would love to sprint along and leap off some of the benches, steps and other obstacles but my inner cat does not like people getting in my way when I'm trying to maintain a constant pace. And yes, my inner cat also likes the arty bird feeder!
The High Line is also a great place for leaping—some of the features in the newly opened section make for good leaping locations. The only problem is that it's often very busy, especially on a sunny weekend or evening. This means that you either have people getting in the way of your carefully choreographed leaping shots or you feel a little embarrassed when everyone is staring at you—especially when you are wearing a skirt that isn't entirely appropriate for leaping given its tendency to billow up rather more than is modest.
My favourite part involves a series of wooden steps in front of a giant, silver-framed glass screen, which I assume is supposed to represent a giant cinema screen on which the movie that is New York is always playing. Naturally, I couldn't walk past this without wanting to take a photo of me leaping as part of this "3D New York movie" but technical difficulties (too many people getting in the way, the sun choosing the exact time we were there to appear in the gap between the buildings just behind us, my aching legs, etc) meant taking the perfect shot was pretty difficult. I liked the results a lot, though.
Sitting back and watching Manhattan go by...
Initially, the High Line took you from Gansevoort Street in the Meatpacking District up to 20th Street in Chelsea but a new section, stretching all the way up to 30th Street, opened the week before we were in the city and so it's even better than before. The next phase will take you to 34th Street and then round the corner, hopefully providing a good photo opp for the Empire State Building (in the meantime, they have provided an artist's impression of what the new section will look like; I did, of course, take a zoomed in photo of this so that I could pretend I had taken the photo myself).
As well as the water features, sunbeds and art in the lower section, there is now a modern-art-sculpture-cum-bird-feeder, several sections of auditorium-style seating giving overhead views of 10th Avenue and Chelsea, and a whole host of other things to discover. Plus, there is usually some combination of busking, vendors selling quirky products and interesting food, and other entertainment.
There were also plenty of joggers on our visits to the High Line, including a number of large groups of runners (and yogis, under one of the bridges). I assume someone organises jogging tours of the High Line; if not, they will soon. I can imagine it would be a great place to run although if I did so myself, I would have to do it early in the morning or when it's raining to avoid the crowds. My inner cat would love to sprint along and leap off some of the benches, steps and other obstacles but my inner cat does not like people getting in my way when I'm trying to maintain a constant pace. And yes, my inner cat also likes the arty bird feeder!
The High Line is also a great place for leaping—some of the features in the newly opened section make for good leaping locations. The only problem is that it's often very busy, especially on a sunny weekend or evening. This means that you either have people getting in the way of your carefully choreographed leaping shots or you feel a little embarrassed when everyone is staring at you—especially when you are wearing a skirt that isn't entirely appropriate for leaping given its tendency to billow up rather more than is modest.
My favourite part involves a series of wooden steps in front of a giant, silver-framed glass screen, which I assume is supposed to represent a giant cinema screen on which the movie that is New York is always playing. Naturally, I couldn't walk past this without wanting to take a photo of me leaping as part of this "3D New York movie" but technical difficulties (too many people getting in the way, the sun choosing the exact time we were there to appear in the gap between the buildings just behind us, my aching legs, etc) meant taking the perfect shot was pretty difficult. I liked the results a lot, though.
Sitting back and watching Manhattan go by...
NYC: Looking East
Why does even a whole week in New York have to fly by so quickly, returning me to the rain of London before I've barely even had time to blog about it? Until this trip, the furthest south I've stayed in New York has been 24th Street and although I did once stay at the W on Lexington Avenue, my hotels and hostels have almost all been west of Broadway. This time, though, my hotel was on East Houston Street, right on the corner between Nolita, the Lower East Side and the East Village (possibly NoHo too), which meant I got to explore plenty of new areas within the city. Here are a few of my favourite new places that are east of Broadway, in approximate order of the time in the day I would visit:
1. Bluebird Coffee Shop (East Village). Bluebird has been on the to-visit list in my NYC Moleskine for quite a while but it always ended up being too far south and east. Happily, it was just across Houston Street from my hotel, this trip, and I made several visits. The espressos and macchiatos were very good and on a sunny morning when the huge windows are open, it is gorgeous to sip and caffeinate on the porch.
2. Think Coffee (NoHo). This is another coffee purveyor I've been meaning to try, having walked past the Mercer Street branch on many occasions. On this trip, I found that the branch on the corner of Bowery and Bleecker was the perfect place to stop for a bagel and a coffee on the way uptown or to the West Village. The coffee was great (and the triple- and even quad-shot coffees sound like heaven) and the bagels were pretty tasty too. Unlike many of the too-hip-to-have-more-than-three-seats coffee bars, there is also plenty of seating at Think.
3. Everyman Espresso (East Village). I wasn't quite sure I was cool enough to drink here and I'm fairly certain I was deducted points for asking for my macchiato to go (some of these coffee bars won't even let you order a macchiato or espresso to go; paper cups ruin the flavour, you see). It was, however, a good macchiato on a fairly quiet stretch of 13th Street. Close enough to Union Square to be very handy, however. I'll just remember to wear my fake tattoos next time.
4. Prune (East Village). Prune is open for lunch and dinner but everyone really goes for the weekend brunch. You can't book and you'll probably have to wait a good 45 minutes but on a sunny day -- and when Bluebird is just down the block -- who cares? As well as more standard brunch fare (pancakes -- or, rather, one large pancake -- with bacon and maple syrup), the menu also contains dishes as varied as spaghetti carbonara and sausages and oysters. Unusually, I didn't order the pancakes (I wanted regular and not Canadian bacon) but opted for the scrambled eggs with bacon, potato rosti and an English muffin, which was delicious and filling. The Prune juice, which actually contains OJ, grapefruit, lemon and lime, is a good alternative for those who can't quite stomach one of the vast number of different bloody marys.
5. Market NYC (Nolita). When it's time for a gentle wander to walk off brunch, Market NYC is a good first port-of-call. It's open from 11-7 pm at the weekend and hosts a huge number of different independent jewellery designers selling their wares in an old church building. It's definitely difficult to narrow down your choices if you only want to buy one or two items. I got a bargain from Delicate Raymond: this gold initial necklace is $48 online but was on sale at Market NYC for just $10. I also bought a lovely purple necklace from a seller whose business card I've lost, unfortunately, which was only $22. Later the same day, I saw a very similar necklace selling in a shop in Williamsburg for closer to $60.
6. Walking over the Williamsburg Bridge (Lower East Side). Another great way to walk off brunch. Not only is the walkway a pretty shade of pink (well, pale red), but you also end up in Williamsburg, funnily enough, which is a great place to spend a Sunday afternoon.
1. Bluebird Coffee Shop (East Village). Bluebird has been on the to-visit list in my NYC Moleskine for quite a while but it always ended up being too far south and east. Happily, it was just across Houston Street from my hotel, this trip, and I made several visits. The espressos and macchiatos were very good and on a sunny morning when the huge windows are open, it is gorgeous to sip and caffeinate on the porch.
2. Think Coffee (NoHo). This is another coffee purveyor I've been meaning to try, having walked past the Mercer Street branch on many occasions. On this trip, I found that the branch on the corner of Bowery and Bleecker was the perfect place to stop for a bagel and a coffee on the way uptown or to the West Village. The coffee was great (and the triple- and even quad-shot coffees sound like heaven) and the bagels were pretty tasty too. Unlike many of the too-hip-to-have-more-than-three-seats coffee bars, there is also plenty of seating at Think.
3. Everyman Espresso (East Village). I wasn't quite sure I was cool enough to drink here and I'm fairly certain I was deducted points for asking for my macchiato to go (some of these coffee bars won't even let you order a macchiato or espresso to go; paper cups ruin the flavour, you see). It was, however, a good macchiato on a fairly quiet stretch of 13th Street. Close enough to Union Square to be very handy, however. I'll just remember to wear my fake tattoos next time.
4. Prune (East Village). Prune is open for lunch and dinner but everyone really goes for the weekend brunch. You can't book and you'll probably have to wait a good 45 minutes but on a sunny day -- and when Bluebird is just down the block -- who cares? As well as more standard brunch fare (pancakes -- or, rather, one large pancake -- with bacon and maple syrup), the menu also contains dishes as varied as spaghetti carbonara and sausages and oysters. Unusually, I didn't order the pancakes (I wanted regular and not Canadian bacon) but opted for the scrambled eggs with bacon, potato rosti and an English muffin, which was delicious and filling. The Prune juice, which actually contains OJ, grapefruit, lemon and lime, is a good alternative for those who can't quite stomach one of the vast number of different bloody marys.
5. Market NYC (Nolita). When it's time for a gentle wander to walk off brunch, Market NYC is a good first port-of-call. It's open from 11-7 pm at the weekend and hosts a huge number of different independent jewellery designers selling their wares in an old church building. It's definitely difficult to narrow down your choices if you only want to buy one or two items. I got a bargain from Delicate Raymond: this gold initial necklace is $48 online but was on sale at Market NYC for just $10. I also bought a lovely purple necklace from a seller whose business card I've lost, unfortunately, which was only $22. Later the same day, I saw a very similar necklace selling in a shop in Williamsburg for closer to $60.
6. Walking over the Williamsburg Bridge (Lower East Side). Another great way to walk off brunch. Not only is the walkway a pretty shade of pink (well, pale red), but you also end up in Williamsburg, funnily enough, which is a great place to spend a Sunday afternoon.
7. Pulino's Pizzeria (Nolita, I think!). This place serves great pizza and is a very fun place to eat or drink of an evening (particularly a warm evening when you can sit at one of the tables outside, if you're lucky), but they also have the whole all-day-dining concept covered thoroughly, with menus for breakfast, lunch, late lunch, dinner, supper, brunch and late lunch as well as cocktails, wine and puddings! We got there at about 9 pm on a Friday night and the place was heaving but we only had to wait about 20 minutes for a table just next to the gorgeous, back-lit bar. I was so full I couldn't manage a pudding but they looked good too. I'll definitely be returning. (I just discovered that Pulino's is a sister restaurant to places like Pastis, Balthazar and Minetta Tavern; I love those places too, so that makes a lot of sense.
8. Spitzer's Corner (Lower East Side). The LES is, of course, heaving on a Saturday night but we managed to get a table at this busy gastropub on Rivington Street (great for people watching). There is a big selection of beers but the wine list suited me fine. They do burgers and also plates of three sliders but my roast chicken was lovely.
9. Peels (East Village). Peels is something of a polymath: rated for its coffee and its cocktails (see #4 in this list), they're also open for breakfast, lunch and dinner, serving food with a southern spin. The cocktail bar upstairs feels like the conservatory in someone's plantation house just outside Charleston. My cocktail (the spiced colada mentioned in the Time Out review) wasn't to my taste (a little too creamy and not quite fruity enough) but that's my fault really and I could tell it was very well mixed. The friendly bar tender also gave us a free sample of a drink she was making for someone else, which was very good. Plus, you don't have to deal with the queues or attitude of certain other bars in the area.
10. The Back Room (Lower East Side). Going to the Back Room is a great experience. You enter through a little gate with a sign for the LES Toy Company (you can spot it because there will probably be at least one bouncer outside), then you go down the steps, along an alleyway and up some more steps into a fabulous speakeasy where cocktails are served from teacups and bottles of beer are brown bagged. I can't remember what I ordered but I think it involved gin and cucumber and tasted delicious. There's an even more secret back room, hidden somewhere at the back, but we didn't see anybody going in. Although they managed not to play any songs I really loved, the music selection was great and appeared to be sorted approximately in date order, such that we arrived at the start of the Mad Men era and left just before Sex and the City got going. More fun and less hassle than PDT.
On my list for my next visit to the East Side:
- Gentleman Farmer (Lower East Side). In Paris earlier this year, we were bemused by a French clothes retailer called Gentleman Farmer (tagline: "pour le Mellors dans ta vie" (well, it should be, anyway)), which seemed to follow a common French practice of naming your shop after two words selected at random from an English dictionary. Perhaps the owners of the tiny, 20-seater LES restaurant of the same name also spotted this shop on a trip to Paris and adopted the name in an ironic fashion. I hope so (and the fonts are pretty similar). The food seems mainly to consist of American takes on regional French cuisine.
- The Bourgeois Pig (East Village). This was highly recommended by PhDE and her husband but we didn't have time to go on this trip. It's a very cool wine bar that does a range of fondues (sweet and savoury) and sharing platters. They're technically not licensed for the hard stuff so the cocktails are all based around wine, champagne and beer.
- Madam Geneva (NoHo). Another secret speakeasy we didn't have time to visit. You enter through a secret door in the Double Crown restaurant and the cocktail list is pretty heavy on the gin (which suits me fine).
14 June 2011
NYC: Brooklyn Abridged
In the two dozen-odd trips I've taken to New York over the past 16 years, most of my forays out of Manhattan have centred around morning runs over Brooklyn Bridge and walks around Brooklyn Heights. I have also been to Williamsburg to shop a couple of times (one unsuccessful as it was 10.30 am and many of the shops don't open until noon). On Sunday, though, we took advantage of the unexpected sunshine and spent most of the day and night across the bridge.
Novelty #1. Walking over the Williamsburg Bridge. It's not quite as stunning as its more famous sister but the views are still good, particularly if you like urban wastelands and/or Lower Manhattan. Oh, and the walkway is pink!
The bridge brought us into an area reminiscent of Château d'Eau in Paris but it was only a short walk to the more gentrified part of town, where residential streets are dotted sporadically with cool bars and friendly cafés. Strolling up Bedford Avenue on a sunny Sunday afternoon is a gorgeous experience. I love the boutiques, like Catbird, the funky coffee bars, like the aggressively hip Verb, and the independent bookshop. It definitely has a much more chilled vibe than Manhattan. We stopped for a coffee and a crack pie, of course, at Momofuku Milk Bar. Both caffeine and cake were yummy.
Novelty #2. Off-off-off-Broadway theatre (off-off-off-Broadway in Williamsburg, that is). At the moment, there are a lot of shows as part of the Comic Book Theater Festival and we chose a "web comic in 3D" called Five Things, which is about a lonely would-be ukelele player girl who gets a cat and a life with the help of her fairy dragmother. It was very sharp and very funny (even if some of the references went over my head — what's wrong with the G train?) and for $15, definitely a better bet than some of Time Out's pricier offerings.
Novelty #3. Cocktails, Brooklyn-style. This week's Time Out had a cocktail special and we picked Huckleberry Bar, a sleek, dark place that had an awesome chilled-out Sunday evening vibe. The barman was very friendly and extremely knowledgeable. My drink — Article 57 — was immaculately mixed, all lemon and ginger and tonic. I stayed well clear of the jalapeño-infused tequila though.
For dinner, we went to Five Leaves, back up the top of Bedford Avenue. It's a small bistro with a low-key ambiance and which seemed to be populated mainly with locals. We sat on a table on the pavement to soak up the hipster vibe (and watch some graffiti artists in action). We started with oysters, which really hit the spot. The menu was filled with lots of interesting dishes that nearly succeeded in tempting even me away from the burger. Not quite, though, and the burger was perfectly medium rare. I couldn't manage a pudding but the affogato, with its local ice cream and coffee, is supposed to be among the best in the city.
Walking back to the L train, we caught a glimpse of the distant Empire State Building — blue, green and yellow, in honour of Caribbean tourism — through the fence of a high school sports field. Manhattan ain't so far away after all.
It was a Sunday so near perfect that it will ensure my return to the wrong side of the river...
Novelty #1. Walking over the Williamsburg Bridge. It's not quite as stunning as its more famous sister but the views are still good, particularly if you like urban wastelands and/or Lower Manhattan. Oh, and the walkway is pink!
The bridge brought us into an area reminiscent of Château d'Eau in Paris but it was only a short walk to the more gentrified part of town, where residential streets are dotted sporadically with cool bars and friendly cafés. Strolling up Bedford Avenue on a sunny Sunday afternoon is a gorgeous experience. I love the boutiques, like Catbird, the funky coffee bars, like the aggressively hip Verb, and the independent bookshop. It definitely has a much more chilled vibe than Manhattan. We stopped for a coffee and a crack pie, of course, at Momofuku Milk Bar. Both caffeine and cake were yummy.
Novelty #2. Off-off-off-Broadway theatre (off-off-off-Broadway in Williamsburg, that is). At the moment, there are a lot of shows as part of the Comic Book Theater Festival and we chose a "web comic in 3D" called Five Things, which is about a lonely would-be ukelele player girl who gets a cat and a life with the help of her fairy dragmother. It was very sharp and very funny (even if some of the references went over my head — what's wrong with the G train?) and for $15, definitely a better bet than some of Time Out's pricier offerings.
Novelty #3. Cocktails, Brooklyn-style. This week's Time Out had a cocktail special and we picked Huckleberry Bar, a sleek, dark place that had an awesome chilled-out Sunday evening vibe. The barman was very friendly and extremely knowledgeable. My drink — Article 57 — was immaculately mixed, all lemon and ginger and tonic. I stayed well clear of the jalapeño-infused tequila though.
For dinner, we went to Five Leaves, back up the top of Bedford Avenue. It's a small bistro with a low-key ambiance and which seemed to be populated mainly with locals. We sat on a table on the pavement to soak up the hipster vibe (and watch some graffiti artists in action). We started with oysters, which really hit the spot. The menu was filled with lots of interesting dishes that nearly succeeded in tempting even me away from the burger. Not quite, though, and the burger was perfectly medium rare. I couldn't manage a pudding but the affogato, with its local ice cream and coffee, is supposed to be among the best in the city.
Walking back to the L train, we caught a glimpse of the distant Empire State Building — blue, green and yellow, in honour of Caribbean tourism — through the fence of a high school sports field. Manhattan ain't so far away after all.
It was a Sunday so near perfect that it will ensure my return to the wrong side of the river...
NYC: Notes on a Sample Sale
As I may have mentioned one or two times before, J. Crew is one of my favourite US stores and so when I found out (thanks to J. Crew Aficionada that they were having a sample sale this week, while I was in New York, I couldn't not go. I turned up to the Garment District location about 45 minutes after the sale opened for the first day and the queue stretched about a block. I was told I'd probably have to wait about 25 minutes and this was pretty accurate. Most of the other people in the queue were 20- and 30-something females, although there were a few men, including some who appeared to be buying on behalf of someone else.
I'm not exactly a sample sale expert (although I do have some experience at Bicester Village) but here are my tips and observations:
In the end I only bought a wool, lined pencil skirt in a pretty shade of teal. I've been eating such a skirt for a while — in navy or charcoal really but I like teal and it goes with most of my wardrobe. Initially, I saw it in a size 2P (wow, a petite size! That's the right length on me!) and when I tried it on, the fit was OK but a little loose. I was deliberating when I happened to catch a glimpse of the same skirt, dumped on some shoes. It turned out to be a size 0P, which fit pretty well. As these skirts usually retail for about $120, I think $50 was a bargain. And I don't care whether it's last season's colours.
I didn't see anything else that tempted me much; not in my size, anyway. There were some nice tan ballet pumps but they were too tiny. I'd say that visiting the sale was worth it for me — for the experience, if nothing else, although I might not rush back to the next one now that I know it won't contain exciting new stock.
Then, because I hadn't spent enough time waiting in line, I headed to nearby Madison Square Park and queued for 45 minutes for a Shake Shack cheese burger (also worth the wait)...
I'm not exactly a sample sale expert (although I do have some experience at Bicester Village) but here are my tips and observations:
- Most of the stock was old, or at least current, rather than samples of upcoming seasons. I spotted a few items that were on the website back in March. As I only get to go to J. Crew about twice a year, this was fine but regulars may be more irritated by this.
- Not many items are available in small sizes (i.e. anything smaller than a US 4 or maybe even a 6). This is bad news if, like me, you take a 0, 00 or, preferably, a 00P.
- You can only take your wallet and a cell phone into the sale; bags have to be checked. So it's worth wearing a jacket with pockets.
- There are no changing rooms and there isn't even much space in which to change. This means it's worth focusing on skirts, cardigans and jackets rather than trousers unless you're confident the clothes will fit. I wore a pull-on jersey skirt as I knew it would be easy to try on shorts or skirts underneath but leggings could also be a good move.
- All of the items are organised by garment type and then size but it's worth checking other sections too. A lot of people dump (or hide, maybe) clothes in the wrong section.
- All clothes of the same garment type cost the same price: a skirt will be $50 whether it's a wool, lined pencil skirt or a flimsy, polyester skirt. Some things are thus better value than others.
In the end I only bought a wool, lined pencil skirt in a pretty shade of teal. I've been eating such a skirt for a while — in navy or charcoal really but I like teal and it goes with most of my wardrobe. Initially, I saw it in a size 2P (wow, a petite size! That's the right length on me!) and when I tried it on, the fit was OK but a little loose. I was deliberating when I happened to catch a glimpse of the same skirt, dumped on some shoes. It turned out to be a size 0P, which fit pretty well. As these skirts usually retail for about $120, I think $50 was a bargain. And I don't care whether it's last season's colours.
I didn't see anything else that tempted me much; not in my size, anyway. There were some nice tan ballet pumps but they were too tiny. I'd say that visiting the sale was worth it for me — for the experience, if nothing else, although I might not rush back to the next one now that I know it won't contain exciting new stock.
Then, because I hadn't spent enough time waiting in line, I headed to nearby Madison Square Park and queued for 45 minutes for a Shake Shack cheese burger (also worth the wait)...
05 June 2011
Road to Ruin
Here are some sports I enjoy watching: gymnastics, athletics, football, swimming, rowing and volleyball. I used to play or practice most of these myself at some point. Motor racing would probably come fairly near the bottom on this list; I don't like loud noises generally, especially the whines and roars of fast cars, and maybe I'm just a typical girl but I've never been interested in finding out who can drive a fast car the fastest. Nonetheless, I really enjoyed watching Senna this afternoon and by the end of the 1h45 documentary about the life of Formula 1 driver Ayrton Senna, I was wiping away my tears.
I was ten when Senna died in 1994 and although I remember it being reported in the press, I didn't know any of the details until I saw the film today. I do remember the clever headline "The Ignited Colours of Benetton" appearing in The Sun but this turns out to refer to a fire that affected another driver slightly later in the 1994 season. Senna opens in the late 1970s when Senna first comes to race competitively in Europe and then follows him through his phenomenal rise during the 1980s. The documentary has no voice-over and there are no contemporary vox pops; the story is told entirely through archival footage, which made for an interesting and original film.
The rivalry between Senna and Alain Prost remains a key focus throughout the film. Senna complains that the French president of the Fédération Internationale de l'Automobile favoured his compatriot Prost over Senna when it came to certain rulings. Prost argues that Senna's driving is dangerous and his behaviour unprofessional. "Ayrton's problem is that he thinks he cannot kill himself," Prost says, a few years before Senna's death. But Ayrton insists that if you are a true racing driver and you see a gap through which you can overtake your competitor, you will always go for it and that if you don't go for the gap, you're no longer a serious driver. Later, Senna grows frustrated because his rivals on the Williams-Renault team have more advanced cars that use a computer to help balance the car on difficult corners. He moves to the Williams team and then, of course, the technology is banned.
The last twenty minutes of the film are pretty emotional. You know that any minute, you're going to reach Senna's final race and with Senna making comments on camera along the lines of, "I'm not ready to die yet" and "I've got plenty more to do and plenty of time left," every few minutes, it's even more uncomfortable. In the fateful weekend at the 1994 San Marino Grand Prix that saw Senna's fatal car crash, two drivers had already experienced crashes (one of which was also fatal). Poignantly, after these two accidents, Senna's doctor friend Sid Watkins told a freaked-out Senna that he should quit and they could both go fishing instead but of course Senna was never going to quit.
And so of course the ending was sad; that goes without saying. It's a tragic story with a talented, likable hero. I was more impressed by the way the film even managed to get me excited about the racing sequences. I was worried there would be too many of these and that they would be too long but actually, I got caught up in the excitement and was willing Senna on whenever he pulled off his latest plucky come-back. I was also cringing every time the gap through which he wanted to drive seemed impossibly small. So, I agree with what most of the reviews of this film seem to be saying: it's a real treat for F1 fans but it's also a well-constructed and highly engaging documentary for people who would usually prefer to watch damp paint dry than a grand prix.
I was ten when Senna died in 1994 and although I remember it being reported in the press, I didn't know any of the details until I saw the film today. I do remember the clever headline "The Ignited Colours of Benetton" appearing in The Sun but this turns out to refer to a fire that affected another driver slightly later in the 1994 season. Senna opens in the late 1970s when Senna first comes to race competitively in Europe and then follows him through his phenomenal rise during the 1980s. The documentary has no voice-over and there are no contemporary vox pops; the story is told entirely through archival footage, which made for an interesting and original film.
The rivalry between Senna and Alain Prost remains a key focus throughout the film. Senna complains that the French president of the Fédération Internationale de l'Automobile favoured his compatriot Prost over Senna when it came to certain rulings. Prost argues that Senna's driving is dangerous and his behaviour unprofessional. "Ayrton's problem is that he thinks he cannot kill himself," Prost says, a few years before Senna's death. But Ayrton insists that if you are a true racing driver and you see a gap through which you can overtake your competitor, you will always go for it and that if you don't go for the gap, you're no longer a serious driver. Later, Senna grows frustrated because his rivals on the Williams-Renault team have more advanced cars that use a computer to help balance the car on difficult corners. He moves to the Williams team and then, of course, the technology is banned.
The last twenty minutes of the film are pretty emotional. You know that any minute, you're going to reach Senna's final race and with Senna making comments on camera along the lines of, "I'm not ready to die yet" and "I've got plenty more to do and plenty of time left," every few minutes, it's even more uncomfortable. In the fateful weekend at the 1994 San Marino Grand Prix that saw Senna's fatal car crash, two drivers had already experienced crashes (one of which was also fatal). Poignantly, after these two accidents, Senna's doctor friend Sid Watkins told a freaked-out Senna that he should quit and they could both go fishing instead but of course Senna was never going to quit.
And so of course the ending was sad; that goes without saying. It's a tragic story with a talented, likable hero. I was more impressed by the way the film even managed to get me excited about the racing sequences. I was worried there would be too many of these and that they would be too long but actually, I got caught up in the excitement and was willing Senna on whenever he pulled off his latest plucky come-back. I was also cringing every time the gap through which he wanted to drive seemed impossibly small. So, I agree with what most of the reviews of this film seem to be saying: it's a real treat for F1 fans but it's also a well-constructed and highly engaging documentary for people who would usually prefer to watch damp paint dry than a grand prix.
Riding High: Riding House Café Review
When I was looking at potential new flats two years ago, one of the nicest ones I viewed was on Riding House Street in Fitzrovia (or, Red Riding Street as I often erroneously call it). Unfortunately, the flat only had one bedroom and so we couldn't take it but the newly opened Riding House Café has given me a new reason to pass through the street. Fitzrovia is usually quiet at the weekends but when I tried to reserve a table at the RHC on Friday, the only available slots were 6.30 and 9.30, which bodes well for them.
The café takes its inspiration from the diners of Manhattan's Lower East Side and offers all-day dining, from breakfasts laden with juices and pancakes, through lunch and dinner, with small plates, puddings and cocktails to keep you going in between. The "restaurant" section is fairly small with a large handful of tables surrounded by smart red leather seats; the wooden walls are adorned with stuffed squirrels whose job is to hold up the lights. The other part of the café has a long bar with a series of turquoise chairs, a long canteen-style table (for those without reservations), and some comfy lounge seats, again decorated in a fetching shade of turquoise. We had a cocktail in the lounge area (my Ramos gin fizz was pretty tasty although a little too creamy for my taste; The Ex's raspberry and elderflower Collins was very good) before proceeding to our table in the main restaurant.
As part of my ongoing quest to find the world's best burger, I couldn't not order the cheeseburger, which came perfectly medium rare, with tasty cheddar and yummy chips. Fortunately, the RHC caters for boring people like me by allowing us to order our usual cheeseburger as a main course but also inviting us to order a selection of more interesting small plates to start (we tried the pork belly, veal and pork sausage and the prawns -- the prawns in particular were very good value). I didn't really have room for pudding but the chocolate and praline semifreddo was too tempting to miss and came with a tart, raspberry coulis, which contrasted perfectly. The food was great, the ambiance was also great and the service was also good, so I'll definitely be returning, even if I don't often spend much time in this part of Fitzrovia.
On the subject of newly discovered dining delights, we also visited St Ali, in Clerkenwell, for brunch yesterday. Their coffee, roasted in house, was very good and I ordered the vive le pain main course -- very eggy French toast with very good sweet-cure bacon, walnuts and syrup -- which was so big even I couldn't manage to finish it. This is another place to which I will definitely be returning in the near future.
Riding House Café. 43-51 Great Titchfield Street, London, W1W 7PQ (Tube: Oxford Circus). Website. Twitter.
The café takes its inspiration from the diners of Manhattan's Lower East Side and offers all-day dining, from breakfasts laden with juices and pancakes, through lunch and dinner, with small plates, puddings and cocktails to keep you going in between. The "restaurant" section is fairly small with a large handful of tables surrounded by smart red leather seats; the wooden walls are adorned with stuffed squirrels whose job is to hold up the lights. The other part of the café has a long bar with a series of turquoise chairs, a long canteen-style table (for those without reservations), and some comfy lounge seats, again decorated in a fetching shade of turquoise. We had a cocktail in the lounge area (my Ramos gin fizz was pretty tasty although a little too creamy for my taste; The Ex's raspberry and elderflower Collins was very good) before proceeding to our table in the main restaurant.
As part of my ongoing quest to find the world's best burger, I couldn't not order the cheeseburger, which came perfectly medium rare, with tasty cheddar and yummy chips. Fortunately, the RHC caters for boring people like me by allowing us to order our usual cheeseburger as a main course but also inviting us to order a selection of more interesting small plates to start (we tried the pork belly, veal and pork sausage and the prawns -- the prawns in particular were very good value). I didn't really have room for pudding but the chocolate and praline semifreddo was too tempting to miss and came with a tart, raspberry coulis, which contrasted perfectly. The food was great, the ambiance was also great and the service was also good, so I'll definitely be returning, even if I don't often spend much time in this part of Fitzrovia.
On the subject of newly discovered dining delights, we also visited St Ali, in Clerkenwell, for brunch yesterday. Their coffee, roasted in house, was very good and I ordered the vive le pain main course -- very eggy French toast with very good sweet-cure bacon, walnuts and syrup -- which was so big even I couldn't manage to finish it. This is another place to which I will definitely be returning in the near future.
Riding House Café. 43-51 Great Titchfield Street, London, W1W 7PQ (Tube: Oxford Circus). Website. Twitter.