Dragons Hitched to a Trading Post
By Steve Herte
The
wonderful part of writing my reviews from our nation's capital (yes,
I'm in Washington, D.C.) is that my Clear Hotspot is working
lightning fast. It still takes time to write them because my brain is
a little bit slower. But never mind that.
The
trip down was uneventful, just as I like it, but I didn't get to meet
any interesting people on the way. Good thing I had my Kindle Fire to
entertain me. The Omni Shoreham Hotel is just as genteel and gracious
as the last time I stayed there only this time my room is in the West
Promenade. Last time it was the East, overlooking the garden and
pool. Prior to leaving I scheduled and reserved all my dinners and
the first one was a big, wonderful surprise.
The
District Kitchen is a quaint little place with an outdoor café on
Connecticut Avenue, a block away from my hotel. One would never
suspect that an innovative, amazing chef creates wonders there. The
chilled corn soup with chorizo and English peas was a delight, as was
the octopus ceviche with sliced avocado and taco chips. Then the
homemade Cavatelli with asparagus and peas in a Spanish paprika sauce
was divine. I hope this isn't making you too hungry. I'll let you go
with goat cheese cake on a graham cracker crust, dried cherries and
sliced almonds in a sinful cherry sauce. OK, I'll stop. No wait! I
have to tell you about the lemon-flavored grappa! Wow! The level for
dinners has been set high, I'll admit, but why not. Likewise I had a
high level of anticipation for my movie Friday night and it sailed
right over it easily. Not so the restaurant, but you'll see that.
Enjoy!
How
to Train Your Dragon 2 (20th Century
Fox/Dreamworks, 2014) – Director: Dean DeBlois.
Writers: Dean DeBlois (s/p), Cressida Cowell (book). Voices: Jay
Baruchel, Gerard Butler, Cate Blanchett, Kit Harrington, Djimon
Housou, Craig Ferguson, America Ferrera, Jonah Hill, Kristen Wiig,
Chrstopher Mintz-Plasse, & T.J. Miller. Color and 3D, 102
minutes.
The
exception proves the rule, right? The rule is that sequels rarely are
as good as the original movie. How to Train Your Dragon 2 is
every bit as amazing and joyous as the first installment. It even
weaves in a bit of ecology (if fantastic creatures count as a part of
the ecosystem).
Once
again we are taken to the rocky land called Berk where Vikings ride
dragons and the two species live in harmony with each other. Stoick
the Viking Chief (Butler) is preparing for the day that his son
Hiccup (Baruchel) takes over the business (they’re dragon-saddlers)
and become Chief of the Vikings. Hiccup has other plans. He wants to
go flying on Toothless, his Night Fury and discover and map new
lands.
One
day he and his friends stumble across the lair of a band of
dragon-hunters led by Eret (Harrington) and almost have their dragons
given over to the infamous Drago (Housou) who is determined to
control all dragons and rule the world (sound familiar anyone?)
On
another of his flights he finds a spikey land of ice and while
exploring is attacked by a mysterious figure riding a four-winged
dragon. The struggle is unnecessary because when the mask is removed,
the figure is none other than his own mother, Valka (Blanchett) who
left him as a child, located an “Alpha” Dragon (If you think
dragons are fantastic creatures, wait ‘til you see this one! I
would bet on the Alpha in a battle against Godzilla.), and with its
help (It breathes ice rather than fire) created a haven for hundreds
of dragons. She had no idea that the Vikings of Berk would ever get
along with dragons, much less ride them. When Stoick arrives to
“rescue” his son he and Valka renew their love and she agrees to
come home.
Bad
plan. Drago has amassed an army and a fleet of ships to take over the
ice land and the battle begins. That is until he reveals his secret
weapon, a second Alpha which battles and kills the first one. Alphas
have the power to “will” all other dragons to do their bidding
and, one by one the familiar dragons’ pupils turn from ovals to
slits and they follow the Alpha, even Toothless. In the fray we lose
Stoick and go through a Viking funeral.
In
their short time together prior to the battle Valka teaches Hiccup
many things she has learned about dragons in their time apart and he
teaches her as well. “Every dragon has a secret” she says, as she
presses a scale on the back of Toothless’ neck and a double row of
ridge plates pops up on his back (much to his surprise), “now he’ll
be able to make those sharp turns.” We also learn why his name is
“toothless” – he has retractable teeth.
It
all looks hopeless until Hiccup uses his special bond with Toothless
to “will” him back. At which point the Alpha buries both of them
in solid ice. Valka is horrified. But if you’ve ever heard the
phrase “never make a dragon angry” you’ll understand the
transformation that comes over Toothless.
The
two films are based on Cressida Cowell’s How to Train Your
Dragon book series, and I’m seriously considering looking
those books up. If they’re half as entertaining as these films I
will enjoy them as much as I did Anne McCaffery’s Dragon-Riders
of Pern series. The animation is smooth and credible, in
particular the eyes and facial expressions. It’s not as digitally
detailed as Monsters Inc. but it still caught me up
in the story. The musical soundtrack is almost classical in the
choral works set against heroic orchestration. If your children have
wild imaginations, this movie is for them. If they have no
imaginations, it may give them one. I laughed, I shed a tear and I
enjoyed the entire hour and 42 minutes.
And,
since I bought my ticket online, I received a bonus from iTunes –
three additional short features downloaded to my computer: The
Gift of the Night Fury (a kind of Christmas story on
Berk); The Book of Dragons which tells the tale of
Bork, the Highly Misfortunate and how he became Bork the Bold;
and The Legend of the Bone Napper, a dragon even
considered a myth by the Vikings. Together they made a delightful
source of background for the two feature films.
Rating:
4 ½ out of 5 Martini glasses
The
Trading Post
170
John Street (South Street), New York
Until
two and a half years ago, this piece of prime real estate in
Manhattan - a block away from South Street Seaport - was the Yankee
Clipper, an excellent seafood and steakhouse. It’s different now.
The
first thing one notices about the Trading Post is the weathered look
of the wooden sign bearing its name, the black wrought-iron handrails
on the stairs and the shiny lacquered doors and windows. Inside,
you’re transported to a seaport inn with simple wooden tables
(though polished) and leather cushioned chairs, dim single swag
lights with simple tin-parasol shades and blood-red walls decked with
period art-works and subjected to a black-tin ceiling. The young lady
at the Captain’s Station asked if I had a preference for seating
and I told her I preferred a table to sitting at the bar (especially
not during World Cup; all the crazies were at the bar). She found me
a moderately quiet table in the back after I turned down one with
high stools adjacent to an internal window facing the bar. I say
moderately quiet because I still could hear the noise of the bar
fans, but they didn’t bother me. I could still make out my favorite
tunes on the Musak, and the two delightfully spoiled little girls at
the next table were the only disturbance. (Mommy looked harried
indeed as she sipped her wine.)
Jordan,
my waiter, appeared (he looked big enough to take on the bouncer who
let me in the front door) and took my water preference as he handed
me the menu and wine list. One of the signature cocktails on the
reverse side of the wine list mentioned Beefeaters gin and I knew
what I wanted. Jordan was either a meticulous server who wanted to
make sure he got an order correctly or he was partially deaf. I had
to raise my voice to describe my martini preference and he repeated
it (missing one ingredient). I don’t like shouting and I was not
surprised that my martini had olives instead of a lemon twist, but it
was well made – not great, but well made. I asked Jordan how people
normally ordered dinner (especially with a good appetite). The menu
had classifications of Bites, Bowls and Boards (Appetizers, Soups and
Cheeses), Raw Bar, Salads, Flatbreads (a new fad, like a fluffy
pizza), Large Plates and Sides. He explained that the lobster mac
and-cheese is a filling dish to start with and did not recommend it
as a part of a three-courser. That set me thinking. It was the only
interesting appetizer. But I did choose.
When
I suggested the classic onion soup as a starter and the salt-roasted
beets with baby arugula and aged goat cheese as a salad, he suggested
that they come out together. I saw no problem there but I warned him
that I’m a slow eater and the main course should be held off until
I’m ready. He agreed.
The
soup was indeed a surprise. It was the recipe I’ve loved in the
past topped with melted Gruyere cheese (I didn’t even have to taste
it – I could tell by the aroma.) Dark bread was used for the
crouton inside and it was chock full of onions in a flavorful broth.
The beets were tasty and almost as sweet as Harvard beets but with a
slightly salty flavor and buried under a mound of baby arugula –
all this topped with two teaspoons of impressively gamey goat cheese.
Jordan had warned me that there would be cashews in the salad and I
had told him not to worry. I have no food allergies and I love
cashews! They were walnuts. Disappointing, but still good.
I
wasn’t even halfway through the soup and hadn’t even touched the
salad when the main course arrived. Making my astonishment known loud
enough for Jordan to hear (I had already ruled out the
meticulous-server notion and added a different option) I sent it
back. Jordan apologized and implied someone didn’t listen to his
instructions. Hmmm.
As
soon as he noticed that I was almost finished with the beets, Jordan
asked if he could “put in” my main course order and I told him
yes, of course. The New York Sirloin was a nice thickness but it was
the smallest cut I’ve ever seen. I was tasty and done almost to my
specifications but it had a sinew that diminished the enjoyment –
it ran the length of the piece of meat. I was glad the peppercorn
sauce was served on the side. I tasted it with morsels of steak a few
times and decided not to pour it over the meat. It was spicy enough
to burn a fakir’s beard off. The steakhouse fries were served in a
paper cone stuffed into a ceramic cup and were crisp enough and
better when dipped into the ramekin of catsup that accompanied them.
A glass of 2010 Numanthia Tempranillo from Spain added a touch of
class to the meal.
By
this time the two squealing darlings at the next table had their
daddy join them and were now orbiting their table and crawling all
over him. But soon they all left and I noticed the soccer fans had
gone as well. It was time for dessert. Jordan recommended the Blue
Marble trio of sorbets over the apple-rhubarb cobbler and he was
right (Yay!). The black raspberry, lemon, and blood orange sorbets
were as intensely flavored as their names (and their bright colors)
implied. That was one highlight. The double espresso was uninspired
but the 30-year-old tawny port made up for its shortcomings.
Unfortunately,
the Trading Post has replaced a very good restaurant with a very
charming bar in a rustic, historic location. I shall miss the Yankee
Clipper.
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