Joanna Newsom at Town Hall

Have you ever been whisked away by an enchanting sound? Has a melody for no clear reason made you well up and blubber like a new born babe for minutes until its end, where, you were left in quiet solace, only wishing to be moved like that again? Has a simple strum of a note led you to a toadstool ring at the top of a hill surrounded by a forest full of faeries where you ended up dancing inside your own head until the music stopped?

If the answer is, "Yes", then- I thought I recognized you! You were at the Joanna Newsom concert in town hall, right? Wasn't it amazing? Isn't she beautiful? Oh, what an affair I have with this pixie of a woman and her sounds. Every squeak of her voice, pluck of her harp, a wave in her hair enchants me, and makes me feel a little less human... and a little more mystical. She's MY more accessible version of Loreena McKennit. Hipster be damned- I love her!

Her show at Town Hall a few weeks left me dumb struck. It wasn't as vast an orchestration as I had witnessed at the Brooklyn Academy of Music a few years ago- no- quite contrary to it in fact. This performance was intricate in its talent but simple in its presentation. I felt like I was in an cozy Narnian cave with her, hanging out, and drinking nectar, as opposed to the BAM show, where I felt like I was sitting council with Gandalf and all of Middle Earth.

There was an intimacy imparted that evening that I hadn't felt at a concert in ages. Joanna was humble, conversational, and inspiring. The pensive silence of the audience only further reflected the mood on the stage. There was a quiet reverence enveloping every person in the red velvet lined Town Hall that evening. It made it embarrassing to do anything but listen (hence the lack of images). Frankly, it was a nice change of pace for me, it forced me to zero in on the music and its core emotion rather than focusing on the "chores" I've established for myself. Besides, I feared photographing her for the sheer risk of revealing her true fae nature.

On a personal note, this woman moves me to a silent hysteria. I thought this time she wouldn't get me, well, I was wrong. I made it through 5 songs unaffected... that is until "Kingfisher". The strings, the harp, her voice it was sheer aural peace. My soul flew out of my gaping mouth, my throat swelled with emotion, and my eyes began a steady stream of tears. My cheeks were soaked by the end of the set, and all I could think was "Play On". Bless yourself with the grace of her music. Let her take you away from the ugliness of the city, and find peace in the sound.

Jackrabbits
Have One on Me
Easy
Soft as Chalk
Inflammatory Writ
Kingfisher
The Book of Right-On
Autumn
Emily
Peach, Plum, Pear
Baby Birch

Dead On A Friday @ Traditions Pub

I went to a fashion school in NYC. We had no sororities, we had no fraternities, New York City was our campus. As such, I never really had a standard "college" experience. That is, until I went to see Dead On A Friday at Traditions Pub last night. There were two sororities and one fraternity there last night, and they proved most of my stereotypes about them right. They were loud, immature, and binge drinking. There was a LOT of screaming and even LESS room in an already crowded bar. It was pure chaos really, and I pretty much assumed how they would' take a punk show. I assumed they would be unresponsive and even slightly annoyed by one of my favorite Queens punk bands, Dead on a Friday.

I guessed wrong. As soon as D.O.A.F. began playing, the crowd slowly inched there way into the back space to get a better view. I even saw a few of them bopping their head along to the fast rhythm sections. As always, Dead On A Friday put on a solid show, and notably with one of the longest sets they've played in their seven years together! It's really REALLY difficult to play that pace for more than a half hour, and one of the greatest benefits to punk music is that it packs a punch and delivers the message usually in under a minute and thirty seconds. As such, they played an extensive SEVENTEEN SONG set list, including some awesome covers by Jordan Cooper and the Misfits. My favorite cover of the night, however, would have to be their punk anthem version of the theme song to "Perfect Strangers"- guitarist Jessen nailed the end guitar solo and had the crowd positively REELING with nostalgic joy. It was QUITE the crowd pleaser, and was an effective way to make an impact on the 20-something college crowd. The covers were only the beginning of several "surprise" moments, they had the amiably titled "fifth DOAF member" Daniel Matz come up and sing "Do Want You Want" by Bad Religion as well as drummer Nick Ferony singing the last song of the set "Don't Forget the Struggle" by Warzone. I was really surprised by the strength of their voices, especially after having to follow the powerful vocals of lead singer and bassist Dave Fox.

Dead On A Friday are one of the most reliable local live acts you can go and see. They are consistently impressive and you're guaranteed some good old punk rock. Upon leaving Traditions, I felt I walked away with a good local show experience as well as bearing witness to what a college bar was all about. The college bar scene upheld some stereotypes, but they also disproved a few as well. It was an education for sure. I'd definitely say I'd return to the Traditions Pub to see D.O.A.F. again, that and the free drink tickets with admission didn't hurt much either.

Dinner at the Braeburn

I've often fantasized at the premise of being a restaurant reviewer, perhaps I am manifesting this longshot of a dream into reality. For, if I'm not mistaken, I just got the critic's treatment at the Braeburn in the West Village.

Using a 30% off deal from Blackboard Eats, we showed up to the restaurant & after a brief deliberation we were seated at the corner booth. As two Italian girls, we couldn't have been happier. This means we see all & won't be worried about getting WHACKED all the while our bottoms rest on cushy booth fabric!

The restaurant wasn't crowded yet, but shortly after being seated the room began to fill up. Our waiter came over with an amuse bouche, compliments of the house. I am a SUCKER for an amuse bouche! I believe it sets the tone of the evening and the meal you are about to have. It was a whipped mushroom creme- warm and comforting. The flavor of the mushroom was delicate but present, and the fluffiness of the creme was just right. It wasn't over salted, either, something that I feel is hard to accomplish with soups, mousses, and cremes in general.

Now, this is where I feel the "critic" treatment comes in yet again. First, it was the prime seats, second, though we ordered a bottle, our wine glasses seemed to miraculously FILL well beyond one bottle, and third, it was this salad. Why would a salad merit "critic" treatment? Well, we didn't order it. The waiter brought it out, as a compliment to our meal. It was a simple salad of mixed greens with a lovely sesame vinaigrette with what I am guessing was pickled red onions. It was light, refreshing, and whet my appetite for the impending meal. Incidentally, the dinner rolls here were FANTASTIC. They were crusty on the out side, and moist. The taste eggy with scallions, and the melted butter just contributed to the taste.

For my main course (seen at the beginning of this blog), I ordered the Pennsylvania Chicken with Bacon, Brussel Sprouts, and Hazelnut Puree. The first bite threw me off- as it was VERY heavy on the lemon. Once I combined the items on the dish, however, a very well balanced meal met my high expectations. The chicken was tender and juicy, the skin on top was an excellent blend of seasoning but it wasn't the exclusive source of taste. The bed of sprouts and bacon the chicken rested upon was wilted but not overcooked. The bacon wasn't overpowering, it was rather delicate and had a subtle sweetness blended with the salt. The puree was similar to a hollandaise sauce with a lemony finish, but again, it wasn't overdone. It was a classic dish with all the right elements working together to create what I would consider a reliable staple dish.

Having been so pleased with the service, the seating, and the meal, we opted to split a dessert. We ordered a Braeburn Apple Cobbler with brown sugar streusel and cinnamon ice cream (my friend's hand not included). It came out in its own little adorable hot iron pot. I am glad we ordered this. The crispy buttery goodness of the streusel had me reeling. The spicy flare if the cinnamon ice cream melted into the fluffy cobbler with evenly cooked baked apples was scrumptious. A nice finishing touch to the meal.

I felt like a well treated restaurant critic who was fed a good homey meal. Or maybe the waiter just thought we were cute. Who knows. All I do know is, I will be back, and I will recommend the Braeburn to others.

Madeleine Patisserie: La Maison du Macaron

If heaven had a flavor, it wouldn't always be chocolate. No, my heaven would know that to convince me of its holiness, it'd better work harder than that! Perhaps it would BEGIN with chocolate, but then the complexities of spice, sweet, & salt would have to be displayed to my palate.

The taste of heaven is something I look for here on earth. I also go looking for taste's sibling, texture. Both are important elements to celestial dining. That being said, this sacred duo of food can be witnessed firsthand at the humble Madeleine Patisserie just by taking one bite of their macaroons.

Clearly their macaroons are the keys to the pearly gates! I can't even begin to fathom how they captured the taste of a blossoming Rose. In the dead of winter, it was spring upon my tongue- a floral bouquet that was both comforting and refreshing. Next, I moved onto the Port Wine and White Chocolate. The deep rich nose of a fine port wine was blended effortlessly with the usually too sweet white chocolate. The blending of these two characters became as classic a pair as Ms. Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. D'Arcy!

Then came, as God intended, the marriage of Caramel and Fleur de Sel. Never was a more revered pairing brought to me in such a humble presentation. Land and Sea, Heaven and Earth were brought together in this holy macaroon. The salt of the sea brought added depth to the slight sweetness of the caramel. Then there was the perfection of the texture; it had a pliable crunchy exterior that delicately submitted to your bite to reveal a moist pleasurably chewy interior within. This journey to Nirvana ends with a decadent creamy center of bountiful flavor seduction- the concentration of the flavors of caramel and fleur de sel.

Go to Madeleine Patisserie and leave this earth for a little while. With a huge sundry of artisanal crafted flavors you're guaranteed unlimited entry to the Elysian Fields!

P.S. Macaroon Flavors Sampled (so far):
Rose, Port Wine & White Chocolate, and Caramel with Fleur de Sel.

P.P.S. I also had a very delicious Croque Monsieur with a Side Salad of Mixed Greens and A Large Moulin Rouge Chai Tea...

Dinner at Da Silvano

February 5th, 2010

Rigatoni Focaccia: Rigatoni with Double Smoked Bacon, Sage, Rosemary, Garlic, White Wine, Cream, & Tomato

I am slightly indifferent to pasta.

I'll give you a minute to recover from that statement. I know, what kind of Italian am I?! For me, pasta is pasta (unless it's FRESHLY made). Pasta is a blank canvas- it's only as good as the sauce you dress it in.

Case in point, Da Silvano in the West Village. I went thanks to a free bottle of wine coupon from my new best friends at BlackBoardEats.com and well, I'm glad I got a free bottle... the food wasn't BAD but it wasn't worth writing to your Nonna about either.

The pasta was not fresh albeit Al Dente. The sauce was rich with cream but had been balanced well with the tang of the tomato & the salt of the bacon. However, the other flavors were lost completely.

Another issue I have mixed feelings on were portions. It was over $20 for an entree & it was WAY below average size for a restaurant. So don't go here hungry!

Dances of Vice: Secrets du Coquettes

Step aboard and be swept away to a better time, a bigger time, a time where beauty was measured by the glint in your eye, the rouge on your cheeks, and the fabric on your shoulder. A time where the roar of the trumpet was the sound of a good night and the booze was passed around in secret. Step aboard the Jewel, and experience Dances of Vice: Secrets du Coquettes.

As far as late night Valentines Boat Cruises go, a week ago if you had asked me to one, I would've shuddered at the phrase and asked "Are you crazy?". Today, however, I am singing a different tune. Today, if you asked me to a Valentines Boat Cruise, I would probably smirk, raise an eyebrow, and ask in a throaty voice "Is it hosted by Dances of Vice?".

I am anti-Valentines Day as a rule. I think it's a Hallmark Holiday created to ensure the misery of all. If you're single you're miserable because you're alone. If you're in a relationship then you're miserable because you don't know what to do for your lover and it'll probably end with disappointment. If you're in a relationship on Valentine's Day, then you spend way too much money on SUPERFLUOUS things like, chocolates, flowers, and meals. If you're single on Valentine's Day, you end spending way too much money on NECESSARY things like alcohol and comfort food. As far as I'm concerned, everybody loses on Valentine's Day (except restaurants and florists).

I thought that this Valentine's Day would be like any other, that is, until I learned that DOV was hosting something in honor of this day of "love". I try to attend any Dances of Vice event I can get to. They're always fun, full of beautiful people, and extravagant finery. This evening was nothing short of perfect- and it was a miracle to boot. WHY?! Well, they got me to SMILE genuinely on what I consider the BLACKEST of holidays.

With stellar all night long performances from Brooklyn's Baby Soda Jazz Band, alluring burlesque from Gal Friday, and an intriguing lingerie fashion show by Renee Masoomian there was plenty to titillate the senses. The company was extraordinary, and at every turn was a smiling face and a photo opp. A big shining moment of glory for me, personally, was when I mustered up the courage to approach Mr. Brian Viglione of the Dresden Dolls, who was just there as a guest, and treat him like the celebrity he is for a fan pic.

It was everything a night out on the town used to mean in this city. It was sultry, whimsical, had good tunes blasting out of the live band, was chock full of beautiful exotic beauty, and ended much too soon. I've said it once, and I'll no doubt be saying it again, Dances of Vice, here's looking at you, kid, and I'll see you soon.

Cathartic Confession & Rant.

There comes a time where every twenty-something wants to know something. Usually it's their purpose. We want to know what our unique gift is that we can give to the world and make it better. Better for themselves and better for everyone around them. As adults we try to improve ourselves- that is if we're decent human beings- we realize our imperfections and try to fix them. We realize that we can never be perfect but to strive towards our potential is critical in our development.

Every day I get older. A click of the dial, a flip of a page, a space bar on my keyboard, and I am older. I always liked the concept of aging, I know that I am a minority when it comes to liking the aging process, but I like to look at life as a bottle of wine- it gets better with age. Lately, I've been struggling with a lot of things. My youth, my friendships, my home, my life as I know it is changing at a rapid pace. Some of the beautiful faces have gone, new ones have come in, the best of the beauties have been with me, by my side, for 7 years, 15 years, 20 years, and my whole life. I just want to say, regardless of where we ended up, I am thankful for every person I have ever met in my life.

Change is coming. The deceptive death card. I'm terrified and exhilarated. I can actually FEEL the dawning of the age of Aquarius. A sense of pride and an emotional upheaval courses through me. I want to be happy. I want to live. I want I want I want. Desire fills me to the brim but I don't know what it is that I desire. The 20 something dilemma. What is my purpose? What gift can I POSSIBLY give this world that she doesn't already have? What present could I offer that she already isn't getting from more qualified and beautiful people? I'm not asking for you to tell me. I know this is something I have to find out on my own.

One of my dearest friends pointed out last night over sangria that social networks, blogs, hell everything that has a "profile" is a modernized shrine to the self. This fascinated me and has been haunting me all morning. My facebook page is like an Easter Island Head. Look at me. Identify me. SEE my individual self, and how it is one out of thousands. You know me. You see me even if we aren't seen in real life. Is that me? Is this blog who I am? What about my design? The nature of my soul? Are these things that can be processed and turned into digital information and then can I make some sense of it? Can I make some sense of self?

I really don't know why I am writing this. I am struggling to understand EVERYTHING lately. I guess I just realized that I needed to put this out there even if no one ever reads it. I am an honest person (or at least I strive to be) and I think that by writing my hopes, doubts, and fears on this virtual wall I'll be able to see "it" more clearly. Whatever that "it" means.

Can you sense my longing? My search? This is a dramatic entry I know, and I have a VERY hard time taking myself seriously but something in me has driven me to want to write it down and make a public outcry of my confusion and frustration... I think that by sharing this, it makes the problem smaller, less scary, more manageable. Does that make sense? Once something is SAID, WRITTEN, expressed in some form, it's out there and not just nestled inside of you where it's good for no one, especially for yourself. It's like saying I love you, or thank you, or I'm sorry. It doesn't do any good to keep that in.

So, out it goes.