No complaints from me this time. Unlike my last Castro neighborhood Asian dinner, this one quickly proved itself a strong and flavorful winner. Now, even after spicy beef, spicy eggplant, fried dumplings and ham rangoon, I have yet to scratch the surface of the extensive menu. Considering my great satisfaction with this first dinner, no doubt doing so will be a welcome, pleasant and delicious task. Thumbs up to Brandy Ho’s.
My first meal was average. My second one was passable at best. Suffice to say, after two dinners involving two very different menu selections, I’m sorry to say I remain unimpressed. Plus, eyeballing some other plates around me, I saw nothing else I’d rather have chosen.
The patio is pretty and pleasant, while the cocktail choices are creative, attractive and ample. The food however, involving dry and fatty meat among all else, holds significant room for improvement. While quantity is generous, quality comes up short.
Still, don’t rest solely on my opinion. Give Nirvana a try for yourself the next time you’re in the Castro neighborhood of San Francisco. The setting is inviting and relaxing, and you can certainly enjoy those cocktails under some mature, tropical-like outdoor foliage that, to me, channels Waikiki’s long-gone Tahitian Lanai. As far as food is concerned, as long as you keep your expectations low, you just might be satisfied.
I may or may not go for round three. We’ll see.
He made it! J.R. Ewing has hit his latest milestone, as Larry 
Hagman today turns 80 years old.
Now 16 years since Hagman’s well-publicized liver transplant, and 31 years after his character Ewing’s world-famous (though of course fictitious) gunshot wounds, the TV icon enters his new decade in the midst of reprising his infamous role. That is, a new version of “Dallas” is coming our way in 2012, as Hagman celebrates a big day he once thought he’d never see. I’m certainly thrilled that he is indeed here for it.
The eldest Ewing brother lives, in more ways than one. Happy 80th J.R.!
The signature fried chicken, which is always on the menu, features California poussin with a perfectly salty, crispy buttermilk batter. Another must-try is the macaroni and cheese, which comes topped with a huge stack of onion rings… (Lily Ko, sfstation.com)
These sound delicious, and I’ll gladly give them a try on my next visit. On my first encounter this past weekend, however, I opted for the light, refreshing and healthy watermelon/tomato salad. While no doubt this pairing is well-known in the culinary world, it’s not one I’ve contemplated before now. Impressive and satisfying as my selection was, I just might have to creatively combine these two ingredients at home.
In the meantime, give the watermelon salad a whirl for yourself, as an appropriate palette-starter to that fried chicken. Oh, and where? The NE corner of 8th and Folsom, at Citizen’s Band.
The editorials are pouring in, as predicted. Plenty of journalists, bloggers and assorted voices have an opinion on the opinions of Jacqueline Kennedy (pre-Onassis). I don’t blame them, as I’m one among them after all. Jackie is, to say the least, an immortal icon of unmatched mystique.
She was also, may I say again, human. First Lady Kennedy held outlooks and impressions of everything and everyone, not from the same viewpoint as the rest of us, but still– just like the rest of us. As such, nothing revealed this week via the release of her 1964 audio recordings strikes me as “shocking.” On the contrary, I find her words refreshing, though-provoking and of course, amusing!
Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis lived on for 30 years after making these tapes, moving through three decades of life in which her positions grew and evolved, again not like the rest of us, but– just like the rest of us. While she may well be disagreed with, I see no reason for outright criticism.
For all the “grace, fortitude and civility” afforded to her over the past 50 years, Jackie is now, posthumously, more human than ever before. After decades of her self-imposed guardedness that lasted well beyond her death, we’re now hearing from her directly and candidly. While this may be “shocking” to some– or worse yet, “less than flattering,” we finally have a more complete picture of a beautiful, captivating– and imperfect– human being, just like the rest of us, but not.
Thank you, Jackie. And that’s my opinion.
She was soft-spoken and never granted interviews. This doesn’t mean she lacked opinions, however, because as we are soon about to see, she most certainly did! The late great Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis is posthumously making headlines 17 years after her death and a half century after becoming first lady.
The privilege of hearing some of her more candid remarks is finally coming to us, in the form of 1964 audio tape recordings that are now becoming available to the public for the first time in history. While naturally I can’t wait to hear them, a few humorous tidbits have already leaked out. And to think I already own a Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis quote book, which apparently will need a new edition!
A figure of extraordinary allure and unparalleled style speaks to us “now” from a time long past, revealing her refreshing humanity in the face of the often seemingly unrefreshing position she held. As much as I’ve always admired her, Jackie has just earned a big fresh dose of my respect. And although I’ve never thought of her as snarky, this is not hard to believe. This understandable personality trait was simply well-concealed under the obligatory “nice” veneer of her White House years, making her all the more fascinating to us today. Suffice to say, when Jackie speaks, I readily listen. It appears I’m not alone.
Here’s to a unique and unmatched woman of opinions!
On this auspicious occasion of my father’s birthday, I finally acted on his months-old suggestion to visit the House of Shields. The website states upfront: “In keeping with tradition, there is no clock on premises, nor is there a T.V.” I must add: There is no designated happy hour– as in no drink specials– and also, perhaps contrary to my father’s half-century-old recollection, no food. In 103 years of history, solid nourishment was served once upon a time, I’m told. Alas, no longer is this the case. So do not show up hungry!
What does exist is a convenient if not surprisingly small spot to get a decent drink in San Francisco’s financial district, anytime throughout the afternoon long into the evening. On the city’s sizable list of historical watering holes, the House of Shields has clearly earned its place, obviously having served countless thirsty patrons throughout the decades. From the intricate woodwork, to the detailed tile, and even to the seemingly original bathroom, you can tell this special place has been around a while and deserves respect. I only wish the overall tone were a bit warmer. Fortunately my acceptably sized Hendricks martini upped the temperature a bit. All in all, I’ll be back!
It’s been a while since I’ve mentioned her in writing. Still, she’s never far from my mind, as her music dominates my iTunes playlist. She is– and has been for years– my single favorite songwriter and musical performer of all time. As I’ve often said and still believe, she’s wonderful therapy– much less expensive that you’ll pay by the hour no doubt!
As such, I’m always delighted to read about Mary Chapin Carpenter in the news. Such coverage assures me she’s active, performing, and hopefully hard at work on her next album. I simply wish the East Coast “Hometown Girl” would pay a visit to California once in a while. In the meantime, her “intellectually powerful” music lives on!
Thinking of former President Bill Clinton on his 65th birthday today, I would have imagined he’d enjoy one of those chicken fried steak dinners I discussed earlier this week, if not a nice big filet or rib eye. But no! Nothing of the sort is in store for the now-health-conscious former burger lover on this occasion, or any occasion for that matter. Bill has apparently, to my and perhaps your surprise, gone vegan!
I certainly recognize the need to adjust and monitor one’s diet in the wake of clogged arteries and bypass surgery. At the same time, I must wonder if doing so really requires foregoing all items derived from animals. Is this not taking healthy eating to the unnecessary and unenjoyable extreme? There’s plenty of “good” meat in a healthy diet, no? Even though he’s in far better health today than a decade ago, Bill is now looking TOO thin, and dare I say older than his age. At 65, he appears he could use a little…er… meat, on his bones.
But that’s just my carnivorous opinion. Happy Birthday Mr. President, cigar or no cigar!
“The cuts of steak used for chicken fried steak are usually the less expensive, less desirable ones, such as chuck, round steak, and occasionally flank steak. The method is also sometimes used for chopped, ground, or especially cube steak. Chicken fried steak is usually served for lunch or dinner topped with cream gravy, and with mashed potatoes and vegetables, and biscuits served on the side.” (Wikipedia)
This one actually looks good!
I’m not sure exactly how they’re doing it here in San Francisco, and perhaps I don’t want to know. Suffice to say, two recent chicken fried steak meals at two different neighborhood establishments have yielded two strikes. Less-desirable meat indeed it was, so overcooked and gravy-soaked so as to satisfactorily disguise the possible dog or cat I was actually consuming.
This is par for the course, of course. Expectations for any such preparation should understandably remain low. After all, chicken fried steak is one of those typically greasy, calorie-ridden, artery-clogging forms of “comfort food” meant to be enjoyed as an occasional indulgence– one you know is bad for you but you’re going to treat yourself nonetheless.
So comes my point. My two recent attempts at “comfort food indulgence” were not all that comfortable. At the somewhat trendy Blue, the chicken fried steak was rather soggy, detached and bland. Strike One. At greasy spoon Orphan Andy’s, what emerged as a chewy, dried-out hockey puck fortunately did not leave any lasting effects. Strike Two.
I know there has to be a decent “CFS” here in the City; it simply remains to be discovered. Will the third time be a charm or a strike out?
If you’ve ever wondered what lamb lollipops and pea mash have in common, here’s your answer:
They both appear on the same menu of one very inviting and satisfying San Francisco dining establishment. After numerous occasions of walking past the Castro-adjacent corner of 16th and Sanchez, examining the window-posted menu, and telling myself I need to give this place a go, last night it finally happened. Excellent company in tow for an early (17:30) sitdown, Tangerine deliciously delighted our evening.
As you’ve certainly heard me say before, I always love a restaurant that instantly earns a return visit. Unfortunately this is all too often not the case. As such, after a couple rather forgettable meals in the same neighborhood over the past week alone, last night’s last-minute selection proved all the more refreshing.
Lamb lollipops, intriguing by name alone, come through as a creatively substantial though thankfully not-too-filling starter. Butternut squash soup, rich in both flavor and portion, in itself might satiate a light consumer. Tangerine’s fried calamari is nothing unusual, rather bland in fact, while their standard yet still-zesty whole romaine caesar salad lacks whole anchovies. Both have their places on the table nonetheless. My spicy seafood gumbo emerged a clear winner, striking a pleasing balance of salmon, shrimp, calamari and diced vegetables. The most visually stimulating presentation of our meal was the large salmon fillet, nestled into a bed of richly seasoned pea mash that looks just like, well, pea green mashed potatoes! So full were the three of us, that we regretfully passed on the coconut sorbet, this time.
Tangerine wins, and your dissatisfaction would come as a shock. No doubt the pleasant staff will be seeing me again before too long. Quite likely it will be on another Wednesday for that complementary glass of wine!
Insightful and thorough as the article happens to be, still I’m left asking myself, “Why bother?”
Granted, perhaps out on a picnic in a non-glass-friendly location, a slight though unconvincing advantage could take hold. Such a purchase even recently appeared on a weekend country retreat at which I was in attendance, though no requirement steered this decision. Expansion of variety and possible enhancement of quality notwithstanding, the bottom line remains: There is no substitute for the bottle, a corked one that is.
The opening words of the NYT piece say it best: IT’S the epitome of déclassé, the vinous equivalent of trailer trash, the wine snob’s worst nightmare. No, I don’t mean the screw cap. I’m talking about boxed wine.
The choices are increasing, but why?
In times when quantity trumps quality, most likely in quickly serving a large group of undiscerning palates en masse in the middle of nowhere, perhaps– perhaps– the boxes could be argued as the way to go. But sitting one on your own kitchen counter for weeks on end? Again, why? “The craziest thing” indeed. As far as I’m concerned you’re still better off with “Two Buck Chuck” and a corkscrew, especially where cost is a factor.
And that’s my out-of-the-box opinion!
The death of a former president or first lady typically brings together a good number of the others still living, though apparently not all of them this time around. As such former White House occupants as Rosalynn Carter, Nancy Reagan and George W. Bush pay their final respects to Betty Ford today in Palm Desert, California, others are not in attendance. In fact, no first couple is there together, thanks to the unexpected absence of one notable individual for seemingly absurd reason. Bill Clinton has been forced to miss today’s service, reportedly because of mechanical trouble with his plane out of New York.
Really, I ask? A former president must fall victim to such inconveniences of the masses? Doesn’t his wife have some connections to get him another plane toute suite? Looks like it’s a good thing President Clinton was not on Mrs. Ford’s handpicked list of speakers at her eulogy. Good for her, by the way, for making such thoughtful and detailed preparations for this day. And good for her again, for including politics on this occasion.
Mrs. Ford’s body will be flown tomorrow to Grand Rapids, Michigan, where she’ll be laid to rest alongside her husband, of course. Coincidentally, both of them lived to the same age of 93, President Ford passing away in December 2006. No age record for this first lady, however, as Bess Truman holds the title for living to 97, followed by runner-up Lady Bird Johnson who lived to 94. And no sooner did I mention on her 90th birthday last week that Nancy Reagan was not the oldest living first lady, than now she is!
This ABC News piece presents a decent look back on Betty Ford’s life and legacy. To say the least, she was a unique and pioneering woman who certainly deserves to be remembered well.
For all those great things I recently shared here about Martin Macks, here’s one more.
This one can speak for itself!
So much has already been written, that it looks like there’s not much more for me to say. What I WILL say, quite simply, is that I entirely concur with the numerous positive reviews out there. I’m thrilled to have been turned on this week to a unique and impressive dining destination of which until now I was unaware. Everyone else in San Francisco seems to know it, but perhaps I can use the excuse of still being relatively new to town. Or maybe not. In any event, now I know Bix.
“This retro-modern supper club, now 21 years old, has a speakeasy vibe. It’s located on a narrow street in the shadows of the Transamerica Pyramid, and you almost feel like you need a secret password to get through the darkened entryway. However, the impressive Deco-inspired interior opens up to reveal a grand space that includes a mezzanine supported by ornate columns. Bartenders expertly mix classic drinks, and chef Bruce Hill gives modern twists to some familiar dishes. There’s also live jazz nightly.” (Top 100 Bay Area Restaurants)
Don’t be too alarmed by the deceivingly small gin glasses; I quickly got past them, especially after spotting my always favorite and rarely found steak tartare on the menu! I can’t wait to go back and have it, no doubt dressed in smart evening attire to complement Bix’ grand and elegant atmosphere. The booths are quite roomy, so you just might have to join me.
Spicy means spicy, and rare means rare. Anytime these two vital culinary keywords prove themselves, I know I’ve found a dining establishment worthy of my repeat business.
The chicken curry is positively delicious, fire-breathing upon request of course, by far the best I’ve tasted in recent memory. A half-fries-half-rice accompaniment works very well, yielding an overall portion that’s probably gargantuan for many, while nicely satisfying for yours truly.
The pepper cheese-jalapeno burger called out to me as well, or perhaps I should say it was mooing as the big rare patty arrived to the table, nestled in a soft, round sourdough bun, alongside a heaping mound of crisp mixed greens. Having asked beforehand if the chef would walk the cow past the stove, the answer from the waitress was an immediate and emphatic “oh yes.” I knew I was in the right place, even before discovering the weekly liver-n-onions special!
The fried calamari appetizer is standard fare, surprisingly modest in quantity. Then again, you won’t want to fill up before your generous and carefully selected entrée. You might join me in wishing for a garlic or chipotle aioli in place of the calamari’s basic cocktail sauce.
The fish-and-chips remain to be tried, as do the ribs, which hopefully won’t have run out next time. If I don’t hit the right day for the liver, I’ll just have to hit the curry again, this time with shrimp. Whatever the selection, it all gets washed down with one of many import drafts. Be sure to have company with you, as did I, so as to sample and share more than one plate.
The large open space is instantly inviting, with plenty of bar stools and high-top tables to be had. The numerous wall-mounted flatscreens allow you to see your sporting event from all angles, while the variety of country flags on the ceiling create a pleasant international flair.
I’m always love it when I’m not just satisfied, but thoroughly impressed, with my first visit to a neighborhood dining establishment, especially one in walking distance of my home that’s been on my list for some time. I’ll back, sooner than later, to Martin Macks.
The infamous dining room served as a nucleus of the show for five years, loudly so.
I’m sorry to see them go. At the same time, I’m not all that surprised. As storylines grew increasingly silly and often confused, key cast members dropped off while others appeared inconsistently. For the past year it’s been clear to both me and many others that the show was on the decline. How many more deep-seated family secrets could possibly be revealed? And how many more times could one’s paternity be questioned? By the season-ending episode one week ago, it seemed all the clearer that the Walkers have run their course.
Now it’s official. ABC announced last Friday the cancellation of “Brothers & Sisters” after a five-year run. Granted, various plots of late seemed rushed and certainly eye-roll inducing. The unpredictable appearance of various family members often proved disappointing. And the ongoing scattering of scandals, conflicts, revelations and “big” decisions, typically yielding a collection of “horrified” facial expressions, were growing tiresome.
Still, I would like to have seen where the Walkers went next, as this last season did turn out at least a few stronger moments. However, perhaps herein lies the problem: There may very well be no where more for them to go, at least not without further redundancy and ridiculousness. Five seasons and more than 100 episodes is an impressive run in television these days, while some famous programs in history have no doubt stayed around TOO long. This said, perhaps it’s better we’re saying farewell to the Walker clan before they’re completely ignored and forgotten.
Farewell, Walkers. For better or worse, you clearly brought a unique and distinct style to prime-time television that will be missed.
And that’s my faithful-viewer opinion.
A one-of-a-kind living room window view.
After almost a year of intent, I finally made it. The small coastal town of Gualala, some 120 miles north of San Francisco, welcomed my motorcycle and me for a brief yet lovely stay this week. Actually, it’s my fabulous lifelong friend and her hoot of a husband who did the welcoming. The town itself, fortunately, seemed to be on board with my arrival.
Altogether, this 250-mile roundtrip motorcycle journey was scenic, relaxing and of course on some stretches of twisty Hwy 1, challenging! Coming just after an oil change, new brake pads and new brake fluid earlier this week, my sturdy and reliable SV could not have performed better, at least not at the still-somewhat gentle hands of its cautious handler.
With a business appointment already scheduled in Santa Rosa this week, I figured I was already halfway to the residence of my dear friend, so why not? My conclusion: A trip most worthwhile, especially thanks to ideal weather conditions. The route to Gualala is beautiful, the town warm and inviting, the views spectacular, and last but certainly not least, the food absolutely delicious!
If and when you find yourself rolling along the northern California coast, whether by two wheels or four, or more, make Gualala one of your stops. If you’re lucky enough to hit the town on taco night at Trink’s, you’ll be in for a true and unexpected culinary delight. Crab, shrimp, pork or beef, or one or several of each, these generous and flavorful gourmet tacos far surpass any that I can recall in the “big city.” Be sure to get there early or prepare to wait, because despite any visible life on the streets, the place was packed! And on a Wednesday no less!
Join me sometime soon, preferably on your own motorized set of two wheels. You too might just find yourself saying “Gua-la-la!”
The 2012 Mercedes-Benz CLS: Stunning!
As I’ve previously discussed, Mercedes-Benz styling is on a refreshing upswing these days. While several models have recently been reemerging more handsome than ever, here now comes one more.
The 2012 CLS is simply stunning, all the way from the aggressive and muscular nose to a smooth and refined backside. While the first-generation CLS has certainly been unique and eye-catching over the past six years, the second generation clearly and boldly improves upon success. In addition to looks, meanwhile, the mechanics of the new CLS may very well prove superior to those of often-troubled rival Jaguar XF.
As the reviews trickle in, I look forward to witnessing this welcome new member of the MBZ family take its rightful place on the open road.
My favorite hat of the day.
Unbeknownst to me it was going to happen, in the final preceding hours it did. And here I am now to admit to it. This is to say, the strong undertow of Royal Wedding current pulled me in, drowning me in a sea of fixated early-morning delight.
I must say I really do love all the hats. The wedding’s collective display of such “unique” headpieces simply makes me wish for such bold proclamations of fashion more regularly by American women. Sure, there’s always the Kentucky Derby, though this is by far not enough.
British socialite Tara Palmer Tomkinson has earned my nod for number one in the Royal Wedding guest headdress department. Then, while much has already been said about Princess Beatrice’s headpiece and the ridiculous nature thereof, of which I do not necessarily disagree, she nevertheless earns plenty of points in my book for “individuality.”
From striking, to silly, to relatively tame.
A fantastic, stand-out color choice.
Taste and elegance.
On the male side, the groom appeared positively stunning in his Irish Guard uniform. Of course I’m always partial to any formal dress of bright red. The now Duke of Cambridge stood boldly and brightly in his own right, wonderfully complementing though of course not upstaging his beautiful bride, who herself appeared most tasteful, elegant and at least superficially at ease. The groom’s brother emerged not half bad himself, might I add.
Her Majesty made her own cheerful and refreshing color choice, I must say. The yellow proved more fetching to me than her usual runs of ivory or robin-egg blue. Speaking of usual, however, the Duchess of Cornwall left me squarely unimpressed. Camilla’s predictable choice of champagne (she wore almost the exact color in her wedding six years ago) merely washes her out. Then again, perhaps she knows better than to “shine” in the public eye, especially on this occasion.
The media coverage was thorough and satisfactory all around, as I bounced between CNN, FNC, MSNBC, TLC and E! I did gasp when a TLC commentator referred to “the mother of the groom” in speaking of Camilla, continuing on to say she assumed the role in Diana’s unchosen absence. Really? Au contraire! Diana would surely spin in her grave at such an assertion, one most certainly unfounded and with which few if anyone would agree. As such, I’ll let it go.
A lovely springtime choice for HM
Needless to say, all the planning and preparation has come and gone. The Royal Wedding has happened, Prince William is a married man, and hopefully Prince Harry made it to his “survivor’s breakfast” in good company this morning. Now for the “Royal Recovery,” and perhaps the start of wagers on whether or not William’s first child will arrive as quickly as he himself did!
I’m happy the wedding occurred, I’m thrilled to have watched it, and I look forward to the next gathering of positively outrageous hats!
In the meantime, do a Google Image search of “Royal Wedding Hats” and enjoy! Here, I’ll do it for you!
Dagny works, in more ways than one.
It ended powerfully but all too soon. I was left sitting on the edge of my seat, literally, eagerly awaiting the start of Part II. Whether or not we’ll ever see the second act, however, remains to be seen.
Despite testimony that could have easily tainted my outlook, I settled into my seat unswayed, holding onto my high expectations. In the end, on the whole, my expectations were mostly met. I’m pleased to state with confidence that “Atlas Shrugged Part I” is well worth the time, the cost, and most of all, the lingering mental workout.
One vital prerequisite exists, however, this being to at least peripherally know the story before entering the theater. After all, at hand is one multi-faceted, detailed and philosophical story that requires constant and unwavering attention. Blink and you might miss something. Allow your mind to wander for five seconds and you might pass over a line of paramount and later significance. As this would seem true for even those who know the story inside and out, I can’t imagine how a viewer could manage to follow blindly. Let’s just say I’m personally somewhere in between these two ends.
The visual effects of the film prove strong and impressive throughout. The miles upon miles of shiny new railroad track, fictitious of course, are stunning, leading into a bridge of true grandeur (and pivotal controversy) that I only wish existed in real life. While other effects are obviously computer generated, they remain at the very least passably believable.
The casting and the acting, while already the scorn of many a review, pass in my book, though not perfectly. I’m not exactly sure how I pictured Dagny Taggart as I read the novel, but suffice to say, her big screen debut works for me, despite a weak scene or two. Ellis Wyatt was flawlessly cast, as was Lillian Rearden, wife of Hank, who himself strongly grew on me from my initial point of skepticism. The only character I pictured entirely differently than he “emerged” is James Taggart, who simply seemed all too soft and youthful. But then, considering where he ends up, perhaps this is intentional.
Like railroad track itself, the film does an effective, and surprisingly succinct, job in rolling out a route to comprehending the overall plot of “Atlas Shrugged.” The story is built on two very powerful yet opposing belief systems, each with its respective merits and shortcomings. While I’m not here now to define and argue these details, I will say that I walked out of the theater with my mind heavily leaning in one direction over the other.
The year is 2016, and doom is upon just about everyone, save one steel manufacturer and the owners of one railroad for whom the steel is produced. It’s frightening to consider this fictional doom becoming reality. When we really arrive at 2016, a short five years from now, will gasoline be $37 a gallon, the Dow close below 4000, and railroads rule the land as the only affordable means of transportation? Moreover, will the federal government’s actions to turn the country’s economy around really be the solution? The latter is the question of all questions that “Atlas Shrugged” leaves us to ponder and somehow try to answer. This may be a bigger mystery than the most famous question of the story itself, at least more controversial and perhaps even unsolvable. In the meantime, bring on Part II!
It began powerfully. It ended equally if not more so. And I’m left feeling for Dagny. Perhaps I need speak no more, except to say I love the bracelet, and to repeat: So who is he? His identity, finally, is all the clearer.
As it’s impossible to review a movie before actually watching it, my mind sits in preview mode. In anticipation of my very imminent big screen viewing of “Atlas Shrugged,” I’m finding it interesting, and rather educational, to read what various critics and other assorted individuals are saying about the newly released film. From liberal-leaning to more conservative-based feedback, countless colorful words are already swimming in cyberspace.
Ayn Rand’s infamous novel typically sparks deep thought and incites debate, as well it should. The long-awaited coming-to-life of her complex storyline and multi-layered characters, about which I’ve already once written, appears to be doing the same. Meanwhile, it seems because “Atlas Shrugged” is so married to political ideology, that many people may form a strong opinion of the film before, or without, seeing it. In other words, regardless of the movie’s production value, or lack thereof as the case may be, its ultimate success may be largely determined by political prejudice.
I’m hoping this is not too much the case, that enough people who know anything about Rand’s novel, like it or not, will watch “Atlas Shrugged” with an open mind. My own “pre-view” is that it’s deserving not of knee-jerk, politically charged condemnation, but of intellectual consideration and philosophical reflection. I’m confident we all can take something from the film, be it deep thought, debate, or more, wherever each of us happens to fall on the overall political spectrum. The story lives, whether or not the cinematic quality does.
And that’s my pre-viewing opinion.
Not that I’m disappointed or in any way affected. It’s certainly worth a mention, however, along with a moment of reflection on a long era coming to an end. This is to say, the world of daytime soap operas is soon to suffer severe and debilitating loss, if not meet its demise altogether.
ABC’s announcement yesterday that it’s cancelling two daytime programs on the air for more than forty years comes initially as a surprise, but then as less of a surprise the more I think about it. “All My Children” and “One Life to Live” have existed since 1970 and 1968, respectively, both MUCH older than I am after all!
Times are changing, of course, in broadcast as much as anywhere else. Then too, nothing lasts forever, not even Susan Lucci’s job, as she’ll soon be out of one for the first time in 41 years! Of course she already has something to say about this.
All I can say is that I can’t recall the last time I watched an episode of either show, as I’m not one to sit around watching daytime soaps. (I’ll sit around watching nighttime soaps anytime.) Nonetheless, I realize this will certainly be a painful loss for many faithful viewers, as they’ll now have to rely on “General Hospital” for their daytime fix of tacky melodrama.
Nothing lasts forever, except perhaps the memories of a chronically drama-stricken Erica Kane! A very different daytime programming world is clearly, and not-so-surprisingly, upon us.
(Courtesy: NY Times) On April 14, 1865, President Lincoln was shot and mortally wounded by John Wilkes Booth while attending the comedy “Our American Cousin” at Ford’s Theater in Washington, D.C. He died the next day.
| 1808 | A law prohibiting the importation of slaves into the United States went into effect. |
|---|---|
| 1892 | The Ellis Island Immigrant Station in New York opened. |
| 1898 | New York City was consolidated into five buroughs. |
| 1901 | The Commonwealth of Australia was proclaimed. |
| 1919 | J.D. Salinger, author of “The Catcher in the Rye,” was born in New York City. |
| 1953 | Country singer Hank Williams Sr., 29, died of a drug and alcohol overdose. |
| 1958 | Treaties establishing the European Economic Community went into effect. |
| 1959 | Fidel Castro led Cuban revolutionaries to victory over Fulgencio Batista. |
| 1979 | The United States and China established diplomatic relations. |
| 1984 | AT&T was divested of its 22 Bell System companies under terms of an antitrust agreement. |
| 1990 | David Dinkins was sworn in as New York City’s first African-American mayor. |
| 1993 | Czechoslovakia peacefully split into two new countries, the Czech Republic and Slovakia. |
| 1994 | The North American Free Trade Agreement went into effect. |
| 1999 | The euro became the official currency of 11 European countries. |
“Like other bitters, Campari has a strong aroma and a characteristic flavor which some consumers find overwhelming when consumed straight.” (wisegeek.com)
In other words, a lot of people can’t stand Campari. It’s most definitely an “acquired taste” as many say. And as I always say to anyone who’s about to try it for the first time: “You won’t like it.” Most times I stand correct.
Not that this is a bad thing. In fact, it’s rather good I say, in that there will always be more Campari for yours truly, while rarely if ever will anyone fight me to share the bottle. After all, this famous yet still somewhat mysterious Italian aperitif remains my very favorite and most often enjoyed alcoholic beverage.
So I’m a little late for the party, as Campari is now closer to its 151st birthday than its sesquicentennial. Nonetheless, it’s my true delight to have effortlessly obtained one of the above-pictured limited edition 150th anniversary bottles yesterday, the middle one to be exact. The inexplicable mystery remains, however, as to how such a welcome acquisition took me so many months, considering the bottles debuted last summer. All I will say on this is, as with most good things: Better late than never!
If you’re one of those inquisitive and daring types who’s never yet tried Campari, I recommend you do so first on ice with soda water. Then, you might opt for an orange juice mix. For a stronger drink, mix it with gin or vodka. Or for a lighter refreshment, pour a splash into some chilled (and inexpensive) white wine.
If all options have failed you and I stand correct once again, I’ll of course be more than happy to relieve you of your surely closer-to-full bottle of red Italian mystery.
Campari: Truly a pleasure I will never go long without. You’re always welcome to join me, even at risk of my having to share.
Did I mention this all has something to do with my “acquired” opinion?
Katie as Jackie
The steadily maturing Katie Holmes has been transformed into a surprisingly convincing First Lady Jacqueline Kennedy, bearing a striking resemblance to the beautiful and beloved woman herself, at least in appearance.
This is all I can say right now on the much-hyped miniseries “The Kennedys.” I’ve not yet seen the first two-hour installment that premiered last night on the Reelz Channel, though apparently many of you have. Reelz is not easy to come by, considering I searched for it on two televisions with different providers, only to twice come up empty-handed.
“The Kennedys” would no doubt have been much easier to watch on The History Channel, where it was originally supposed to air before the real-life family balked over the series’ accuracy (or lack thereof), leading to the network supposedly feeling the pains of controversy and caving into the pressure that came with it.
After all that’s been portrayed over the years about the Kennedy family, through so many films and other artistic outlets, each of them certainly varying in accuracy from one to the next, I have to scratch my head and wonder this: How could the Kennedy family possibly object now? What exactly is so inflammatory about this particular production that its alleged offenses supersede all others that have come before? Now of course, amid all this controversy-themed chatter, I’m all the more eager to sit down and watch “The Kennedys” and answer my own question.
In any event, the recaps and reviews are quickly coming in. Some even appear to disagree with my simple nod to Ms. Holmes, which I may or may not have to later amend. Nonetheless, “The Kennedys” is reportedly setting ratings records, no doubt fueled in part by all the misplaced buzz that has preceded it. One way or another, I’ll soon be deciding for myself if Katie’s Jackie, along with the rest of the players, are or are not “almost for reelz.”
And that’s my yet-to-be-determined opinion.
I’ve been meaning to mention yet another dining establishment that’s, well, worth a mention. “If you happen to find yourself anywhere near Westlake Village” is what I was about to say, until to my surprise at not already knowing, The Grill On The Alley is happy to welcome us to multiple locations.
A modern-day upscale American grill is how I myself might choose to describe it. It’s as if large seating areas, contemporary espresso-colored woodwork and elaborate bar displays have propelled my much-revered Musso’s or Tadich well into the 21st century, while maintaining a classic Chicago-style menu. This means, naturally, that the selections are vast and the portions more than ample. Simply put, you WILL be fed, and in style to boot!
The proper balance of modern and classic is always important. At The Grill, “modern” means the martini glasses are at least 10 ounces and filled to the top, versus those irksome 7-ounce glasses at the old-school establishments. Then, “classic” means The Grill offers a delicious calf’s liver entrée. Any guess at what I ordered?
The Grill On The Alley clearly succeeds in this balance. While looking forward to my next visit, I won’t have to return to Ventura County, as San Jose is much closer. Then of course, I’m confident that any location is just as “famously American” as the next.
And that’s my own balanced opinion.
Of the several places around town that made my birthday yesterday quite memorable, my lunch spot definitely stands out. After three months of intent, I finally dined, quite pleasingly so, at the historic Tadich Grill.
I expected to be satisfied. My expectation was met, hands down. The menu, while interesting in its extensive selection, was unnecessary; I knew my meal selection well in advance. After all, Tadich’s version of my always favorite calf’s liver and onions awaited my comparison to the same dish at Little Joe’s. Both preparations are delicious and unique unto themselves, excusing me from declaring one clearly better than the other. Whereas Little Joe serves thinner multiple pieces in a rich sauce, Tadich presents one very large and thick steak off the grill, adorned by a topping of rich sautéed onions.
For any and all of you liver lovers, Tadich Grill is a must. If your palate calls for something else, your menu choices clearly abound. My dining companion, for one, seemed to enjoy his very attractive and ample halibut steak. A Negroni, overflowing in its old-school-sized glass, served as my chosen cocktail accompaniment, though naturally the full bar will accommodate your libation preference.
For its decades upon decades of history, Tadich reminds me very much of Hollywood’s Musso & Frank Grill. If you know and appreciate Musso’s, you’ll certainly discover some positive words of your own on Tadich. My next visit will come long before my next birthday, at which time I’ll expect to find even more good to share on the grill.
Tadich Grill menus are printed daily.
Unsavory as it is to admit, I do share this day. I must wonder, however, how The New York Times happened to overlook Lady Gaga. In any case, here’s to all 328s, each and every one a true Aries, no doubt!
Current Birthdays
| 1928 | Zbigniew Brzezinski, Former national security adviser, turns 83 |
|---|---|
| 1933 | Frank Murkowski, Former Alaska governor, senator, turns 78 |
| 1942 | Mike Newell, Director, turns 69 |
| 1944 | Ken Howard, Actor (“The White Shadow”), turns 67 |
| 1946 | Henry Paulson, Former secretary of the treasury, turns 65 |
| 1955 | Reba McEntire, Country singer, actress, turns 56 |
| 1966 | Salt, Rapper (Salt-N-Pepa), turns 45 |
| 1969 | Vince Vaughn, Actor, turns 42 |
| 1969 | Brett Ratner, Director (“Rush Hour” movies), turns 42 |
| 1977 | Annie Wersching, Actress (“24”), turns 34 |
Historic Birthdays
August Busch 3/28/1899 – 9/29/1989 American chairman of Anheuser-Busch, Inc.
| 70 | William Byrd 3/28/1674 – 8/26/1744 American planter, satirist, and diarist |
|---|---|
| 71 | Henry Rowe Schoolcraft 3/28/1793 – 12/10/1864 American explorer and ethnologist; discovered source of Mississippi River |
| 48 | St. John Neumann 3/28/1811 – 1/5/1860 Bohemian-born American bishop canonized the first American male saint in 1977 |
| 84 | Wade Hampton 3/28/1818 – 4/11/1902 American Confederate war hero of the Civil War |
| 69 | Aristide Briand 3/28/1862 – 3/7/1932 French statesman; served 11 times as premier |
| 77 | Paul Whiteman 3/28/1890 – 12/29/1967 American bandleader |
| 88 | Rudolf Serkin 3/28/1903 – 5/8/1991 Austrian-born American pianist and teacher |
| 76 | Onoe Shoroku II 3/28/1913 – 6/25/1989 Japanese actor and interpreter of kabuki plays |
| 67 | Freddie Bartholomew 3/28/1924 – 1/23/1992 Irish-born American child actor |
It’s what happens when I’m away from West Hollywood for an extended period: The Abbey remodels, expands, and changes its menu, again.
I don’t recall exactly the last time I visited the Abbey before my lunch yesterday. Even when I still lived in L.A., my visits grew rare. As such, it had been quite a while for me, as I arrived yesterday to multiple changes in progress.
The bathroom area expansion appears sensible and well designed. The new VIP “peninsulas” may be the preferred place to sit, if you don’t need much table space. I miss the island bar, though not nearly as much as I do the cozy lounging cabanas. The latter have been replaced by large tables and bench seating, sans curtains. It’s just not the same.
Also not the same is the menu, as it’s undergone yet another reinvention. While the BLT and burgers remain ample in portion, the famous heaping pile of nachos has been cut down in size by almost half, now with a higher price to boot. Don’t you just love getting less for more? Thankfully, the martinis have not been scaled back, while holding steady at a barely-palatable $12. I recommend the cucumber.
Perhaps I’ll pay another visit in a few months when I’m back in town again, at which time all the current rear bar construction will no doubt be complete. Then, perhaps, the Abbey will have finally grown to its limit, or not. I have a feeling the menu will look different, if not offering less for more.
And that’s my hungry and thirsty opinion.
Ryan R. Sanderson 