Her Pippali Are Showing!
By Steve Herte
The
first full week of work for the New Year was, in the words of Jim
Morrison “Strange Days.” There wasn’t a full moon but
things were somehow stranger than usual. I left the Christmas
decorations up until Tuesday because there was still one of my
co-workers who had not seen them and fortunately he showed up
Thursday. Friday, I took them all down first thing in the morning.
The office looks so sterile without them. Then, Saturday I took the
wreath off my door at home and “de-Christmased” the house.
I’m always surprised when, what took three days to put up can be
disassembled in less than one. I re-boxed the lights while watching
TV. Yes, I’m that obsessive-compulsive to snap each light back into
their little plastic grid and slide the whole string back into the
original box. It packs away better that way and is not tangled the
next year.
My
first new restaurant of the New Year was (Surprise!) Indian, and what
an Indian! The movie was only a first in that it was an arty drama
touted as a comedy (not funny, though) and a semi-scifi allegory. Go
figure. Enjoy!
Her (WB,
2013) – Director: Spike Jonze. Writer: Spike Jonze. Cast: Joaquin
Phoenix, Amy Adams, Scarlett Johansson, Lynn Adrianna, Rooney Mara,
Matt Letscher, Bill Hader, & Kirsten Wiig. Color, 126 minutes.
Let
it be known from the onset that my rating for this film comes from
the fact that it is indeed a good movie. It failed to score a perfect
five because it is classified as a “comedy,” which couldn’t be
farther from the truth either in the Shakespearean sense or the
humorous sense. The only people I could conceive would think any part
of it funny would be the same sad subscribers to Schadenfreude who go
into gales of laughter whenever a groin shot happens on “America’s
Funniest Home Videos.”
That
said, the story, which takes place in some unexplained future time in
Los Angeles, introduces us to Theodore (Phoenix). He is employed, and
apparently has an promising career, at
Beautiful_Handwritten_Letters.com, a type of firm in which the
employees write letters for clients who (I guess) are too preoccupied
with trivial things or who are not imaginative enough to write their
own. Though he’s average looking and a bit gawky in appearance,
Theodore’s letters (which he dictates to a computer doing the
actual writing) are superior to others in the company in their
sensitivity and content and he gets accolades from his co-workers and
his boss. However, as competent as he is in his job, Theodore is
going through a divorce from his wife Catherine (Mara) because he
cannot translate the feelings he expresses so easily in letterform to
an actual relationship with a person.
He
lives alone high above LA in a Wilshire Boulevard address (the only
clue to the city – there are many fanciful skyscrapers added to the
scenery than actually exist now) and visits occasionally with his
friends Charles (Letscher) and his girlfriend Amy (Adams). They worry
about him because he can’t seem to move on with his life and get a
new girlfriend. Small surprise there, because everyone in LA is
totally non-communicative with each other. The street scenes show
individuals in every crowd talking to some computer, email service or
internet site through a small device plugged into their ears. They
don’t even register someone else’s presence even when that person
shoves them aside.
Theodore
tries various online services including a call-girl site where he
hears (but doesn’t see) SexyKitten (voiced by Wiig), but even then
the relationship gets too weird for him to handle. One day he learns
about a service called “OS-1” – an interactive empathic program
that can carry on a conversation, laugh at jokes, and can evolve its
programming as the relationship progresses. He tries it and meets
(but never sees) Samantha (Johansson). She is like no woman he has
ever met, and soon he becomes comfortable telling her everything.
She’s able to sense his moods and react positively. They fall in
love. He takes her to the beach. He takes her to a secluded cabin in
the snowy mountains. He introduces her to his friends (she’s
contained in a small iPhone-like device with a camera lens for an
eye). They even have an argument. Everything is going well and
Theodore gets up the courage to sign his wife’s divorce papers (and
does). It’s soon after this he starts to think, “I’m dating a
computer program.”
He
asks Samantha if she talks to anyone else and she answers with a
number near five thousand others. When he asks how many she fell in
love with the result is over six hundred. (These are the jokes in
this film, by the way.) Samantha finally confides that she has
learned so much from him that it would be impractical for them to
stay together (she has evolved beyond him) and she leaves him
forever. Later Theodore learns that the same thing happened to
everyone who signed up for an OS-1 companion. The last scene shows
him and Amy on the roof of their impossibly high apartment building
(she and her boyfriend Paul also broke up) and they sit watching the
sunset together. Can he now relate to a real person? We’ll never
know.
Jonze’s
writing and directing is arty, moody and an almost allegorical
statement about the impersonality of society in general. It’s a
light, sad drama that makes one think, “Is that where we’re
headed? Or are we there already?” Phoenix does a superb job of
morphing through several emotions, I didn’t care for the many
outrageous close-ups of his face. At one time we could see one
moustache hair out of place – too close. Everyone else was too
insignificant to matter. While nominated, I don’t think Her will
win Best Picture.
Rating:
4 out of 5 Martini glasses.
Pippali
129
East 27th Street (near Lexington
Avenue), New York
The
welcome page of Pippali’s website tells of the meeting of Peter
Beck, a long sought-after Indian Chef and Pradeep Shinde and their
resulting restaurant that will “change our perceptions of Indian
food.” The name “Pippali” translates to mean a long pepper used
in Ayurvedic medicine as well as a spice. I learned from a friend at
work that this restaurant is again primarily focused on Southern
Indian cuisine, or, as Chef Beck refers to it: “contemporary
Indian.”
On
the street, you can find Pippali by their brightly lit logo, a circle
with what looks like a child’s drawing of the flower spike of the
pepper plant. Inside, all is simple warm browns and muted golds with
three oval mirrors on one wall and four netted lozenge-shapes
chandeliers providing the soft lighting. There is no bar at Pippali
but they do serve beer and wine with two reds from India. They were
out of the syrah but the merlot-like 2010 Mizra Ghalib from Jaipur
had just enough body to accent an Indian meal. Various servers
brought me the standard Pappadum (a crispy paper-thin bread for
dipping), a selection of chutneys – Tamarind, Mint, and Mango, and
a glass of water.
My
waiter, Sameer, was very helpful in choosing my courses for my
“Indian Feast.” The soup, Chapli Shorba – a chicken/tomato
based soup with Indian style sausage, leeks and fennel – was piping
hot and nicely spiced and served in a square bowl (but I managed to
get every drop).
The appetizer, Thalipeeth – crisp, soft tapioca
and gram flour with peanut tikki (cutlet) and kadi (a mildly spiced
yoghurt sauce made with asafetida, a bitter root that can substitute
for the flavors of onion and garlic) – was a delightful departure
from the usual samosas and pakoras; a unique flavor. The story of the
two dishes arrival is rather funny. A server brought them out
together and must have thought he made a mistake because I was dining
alone. He apologized and took them away. Shortly after, Sameer
advised him that they were both supposed to come to me and he
apologized again.
Sameer
provided interesting details and a little history about each dish I
ordered as it arrived. I decided to order a bottle of the Jaipur red
judging by the goodness of the single glass. In Indian restaurants
generally it is apparent that several dishes are served
simultaneously so next to arrive were the main course, the side dish,
the rice and the bread.
Let’s
start with the simple dishes. The rice was a good-sized serving of
Basmati rice, aromatic and flavorful without enhancement. The bread
was Paratha, a multi-layered flat bread usually cooked in a
Tandoor oven. The side dish was totally new to me. Lahori Keema was
ground lamb and kidney beans mixed with onion, ginger and garlic –
an exciting taste and not too spicy.
But the Grand Dame of the meal
was the entrée, a house specialty, the Dum Quail – Quail deboned
and marinated in spices and braised in a broth of red wine, served
with asparagus. I’ve never seen quail on an Indian menu and this
one was unbelievable! It was tender enough to cut with a fork, juicy
and spicy and (I swear) there was enough meat for this quail to have
been about the size of a chicken in life. I was more than impressed.
Also,
a usual thing as I’ve been getting older, the ability to finish all
these luscious dishes in one sitting has been waning. I wanted to try
dessert, so I had the remainder of the entrée, side dish, rice,
bread, and sauce from the appetizer packed up to go and ordered the
Falooda – pistachio ice cream with “vermicelli” rose syrup. No
they didn’t serve a pasta with the ice cream but there were shreds
of coconut imitating vermicelli in the rose syrup – delightful.
Then, after a hot cup of Masala Chai (spiced tea) I was finished.
Sameer introduced me to owner Pradeep Shinde who smiled proudly when
I raved about the food and assured him how comfortable I felt. I
didn’t get to meet Chef Beck, but I’m sure our paths must have
crossed when I dined at Chola, where he worked last. Pippali is now
definitely one of my favorite Indian restaurants. I’m sure others
agree. The 20-some-odd tables were all occupied the entire time I was
there. I guess their perceptions of Indian food were changed as well.
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