Dinner and a Movie
Staying Young with Charlie
Staying Young with Charlie
By
Steve Herte
What
looks like a chubby, eyeless bear with an anteater’s tube-like
mouth and six fearsomely clawed feet, and can be boiled or frozen
solid and still survive?
According
to the American Museum of Natural History, this “tough guy”
is the Tardigrade. (Don’t worry, this monstrosity is also
microscopic.) But it’s the headliner for a new exhibit at the
museum entitled “Life at the Limits,” a multimedia hall
demonstrating the lengths that nature will go to adapt to conditions
on this planet.
There
are videos of birds doing the “Moonwalk” as a courtship
display or building a “Bower” out of sticks and blue
ornaments, along with live nautilus, mantis shrimp, axolotls (a
salamander with external gills), and a huge fiberglass elephant
seal. At the entrance, the viewer is greeted by three enormous
Tardigrades and progresses through the other exhibits until
arriving at an interactive video for the kids. In this video the
idea is to pick up and toss clams to the mantis shrimp for it to
break open and eat. There’s a section on the tubeworms that live
around volcanic vents under the ocean and the reproductive cycle of
corals as well as the African Lungfish and how it can survive a
drought.
It’s
a fascinating display that I experienced on April 4 in a members’
preview. It opened to the public on the 6. I loved it.
Extremophiles
remind me that there was a phenomenon called a “blood moon”
recently. I missed it, but I think I experienced the results. People
are usually a little crazier during and after a full moon but last
week, if it was idiotic, it happened. I think it even affected my
quartet (which planned a reunion last week, but broke up instead –
the end of an era). Has anything like this happened to any of you?
The culmination of all this strangeness was the movie I saw after
having re-scheduling my evening. See what you think. Enjoy!
While
We’re Young (A24,
2015) – Director: Noah Baumbach. Writer: Noah Baumbach. Stars: Ben
Stiller, Naomi Watts, Adam Driver, Matthew Maher, Charles
Grodin, Adam Horovitz, Maria Dizzia, Amanda Seyfried, Dree Hemingway,
Dean Wareham, & Brady Corbet. Color, 97 minutes.
Josh
(Stiller) and Cornelia (Watts), a couple in their early forties,
tried to have children and suffered more than one miscarriage. They
say they’re happy with their lifestyle and freedom to go anywhere
they want whenever they want. They just don’t. Josh is working on a
lengthy documentary with Tim (Maher), his cameraman and technology
expert. Tim is wondering when he’s going to get paid and Josh keeps
delaying him with “when we receive the grant money…” Needless
to say, the money never comes.
Cornelia’s
father, Leslie Breitbart (Grodin), is an established documentary
producer up for an award, and Cornelia doesn’t understand why Josh
doesn’t ask her father’s advice. Josh believes that Leslie
doesn’t like him personally and only tolerates him because he
married his daughter. Actually, Josh is secretly jealous of Leslie’s
success while he’s still struggling.
Josh
and Cornelia’s best friends are Fletcher (Horovitz) and Marina
(Dizzia). They have a little baby to care for and constantly
encourage Cornelia to keep trying. But the more they market their
opinions the further away they drive Josh and Cornelia.
Then
one day at a lecture he’s giving, Josh meets Jamie (Driver) and
Darby (Seyfried), a couple of 25 year olds who claim to be “auditing”
his class. They have seen his first documentary; were awestruck by
it, and they wish to learn from him. Cornelia isn’t sure how to
take this “hero worship” from such a young couple but is drawn in
– as is Josh – by their free-spirited lifestyle. They ride
bicycles everywhere and have a sexy roommate, Tipper (Hemingway), who
unabashedly walks around scantily clad. They also keep a chicken in
their apartment and attend strange “events” around town.
Eventually,
the influence of Jamie and Darby re-sparks the flame in Josh and
Cornelia’s love life and they start doing things together. Darby
takes Cornelia to a hip-hop Zumba class, and Jamie and Josh go
bicycling (until trying to ride with no hands aggravates Josh’s
arthritis – a condition he doesn’t understand how he could have).
After attending an Ayahuasca ceremony (a hallucinogen made from the
bark of the Shiwawaku tree, served in tea – supposedly to bring on
spiritual revelations, but which usually results in vomiting)
complete with a Shaman (Wareham), Josh agrees to help Jamie with his
documentary. They even go up to Poughkeepsie to interview Kent
(Corbet), a former soldier who served in Afghanistan who tried to
commit suicide after returning home.
Josh
and Cornelia’s former friends (all who have babies) worry about
them hanging out with such a younger couple, but they don’t listen.
Jamie’s documentary is a huge success while Josh’s six-hour
clunker languishes. Leslie even called it boring.
Finally,
it dawns on Josh that his meeting Jamie and Darby was more than a
coincidence and that he was manipulated because of Cornelia’s
relation to Leslie. None of the “facts” in Jamie’s documentary
are true. All of the “facts” were from other peoples’ lives,
none from Jamie’s, and Josh is outraged. He believes that true
documentaries should be factual. And when he makes a scene at
Leslie’s award dinner, he’s horrified that Leslie agrees with
Jamie.
I
must admit that the trailers did not prepare me for the drug-less
drug trip this movie was. I exited the theater not remembering the
name of the restaurant I was going to next. It’s designated as a
comedy, but like so many “comedies” being produced currently,
there’s only a chuckle here and there and no hilarity at all. It
might be considered a comedy in the Shakespearean sense. I didn’t
recognize him at first, but Peter Yarrow appears as Ira Mandelstam
with Bonnie Kaufman, as one of the married many couples. I love Ben
Stiller and am sad that the Night at the Museum series
is over. They were funny and worth watching more than once. This film
tries too hard, gets too metaphysical and falls flat. The flippant
vulgarity at the beginning becomes more vicious toward the end and
only works part of the time.
The
funniest part of this comedy is watching Naomi Watts trying to do
hip-hop dance moves.
Rating:
2 out of 5 Martini glasses.
Charlie
Palmer’s at The Knick
6
Times Square – 4th Floor
(42nd Street
and Broadway), New
York
After
braving the teeming mobs on 42nd Street
and following a walking signpost for a “Gentleman’s Club,” I
gradually arrived at the Hotel Knickerbocker. Opened in 1906 by John
Jacob Astor IV, its historic New York status radiates from its
steel-supported brown awning. My mind was still reeling from the
movie and I was taken by surprise by the young doorman zipping from
outer to inner door to hold them for me. Frankly, I’m not used to
this service.
Inside,
all is sleek, shiny, and modern in rich browns and golds. I walked up
to the front desk and announced I was going to the restaurant (whose
name escaped me) “Patrick, or someone’s name.” “Charlie
Palmer’s?” they said and pointed me toward the elevator. The
distinguished-looking elevator operator (I haven’t seen one of
those in New York in decades) asked me for the floor. “Four, I
believe, the restaurant.” “Yes, sir.” And up we went, me still
trying to clear my head and speak like a cultured resident, and
failing.
Exiting
the elevator it was obvious that a left turn was needed and I saw the
Captain’s Station, presided over by two lovely young girls. I
announced my reservation and one of them led me to a table by a chain
mail curtain separating the dining area from the private function
room beyond. My table was at the end of a soft gray velour banquette
running along the wall. The room was lit beautifully in shades of
beige to light brown, and the chairs were smoke gray with metallic
silver threads running vertically down the fabric. The lamp on my
table was unique: an aluminum colored, cylindrical base from which a
pencil-thin support projected to support the disc-shaped light. There
was a touch-sensitive spot on the base, which regulated its light in
four gradations. (Helene would have loved it.) That (and the yellow
calla lily looped in a clear glass vase) was charming.
My
server, Lucy, introduced herself and took my water preference. When
she brought the water, she presented me with the food menu. I was a
little surprised that there was no cocktail and wine menu, but Lucy
was a busy girl. I had almost made my choices by the time she
returned and asked what I would like. I told her I would like a
cocktail. Acting like an absent-minded professor, she apologized and
procured the needed list.
I
chose the Knickerbocker Martini – Tanqueray 10 gin, Dolin dry
vermouth, Cocchi Torino vermouth, orange bitters and a lemon twist
garnish – a delightful change from my usual and served in a
stunning Waterford crystal glass. The golden color of the drink from
the Torino vermouth matched the restaurant décor nicely.
When
Lucy returned, I had a question whether a special dish at the bottom
of the menu was an appetizer or a main course. She thought main
course, but said she’d check. I had judged by the price of the dish
that it was an appetizer, but I awaited her confirmation. Shortly she
brought back the answer I expected – appetizer. “It’s
brand-new! Do you want to start with that?” She asked, almost
excitedly. “Yes.” And then I gave her my dinner selections.
The
appetizer in question was boudin moir over frisé and toasted bread
topped with a poached egg. I’ve had boudin noir (a black sausage,
usually a blood sausage) before and it’s familiarly left whole for
the diner to slice up and luxuriate in. This dish was pre-sliced and
crisped on a grill and surrounded the snow-capped mountain formed by
the remaining ingredients. It was very tasty and unusual, just not
what I expected.
Lucy
had mentioned in her listing of the specials that my next course, the
oyster soup was excellent and she was right. Served in a bowl with
two lion heads for handles (yes, the same one I have at home), the
soup was more like bisque: creamy, aromatic and musky with croutons
floating in it. The oysters were small and delicate and already in
the bowl before Lucy poured the “soup” over them. I commented
that the Oyster Bar at Grand Central now had competition.
The
wine selection by the glass was impressive and I ordered a glass of
2010 Blanquet Merlot Dry Bordeau from France. No one makes Merlot
like the French. It complimented the soup beautifully and welcomed
the main course.
Being
thankful that Lent was over and I could once again eat meat on
Fridays, I asked Lucy about the difference between the two steaks
offered on the menu. She responded that the ribeye had more marbling
and that was all I needed to know. I ordered the Snake River Farms
(Boise, Idaho) ribeye steak with butter potato, roasted winter roots
(carrot, parsnip, winter squash, red onions) in red wine jus. It
looked amazing! The tender beef was a glistening, appetizing seared
color. The butter potato formed a graceful lagoon to its left. And
the vegetables were lined up like soldiers on the right. Everything
was heavenly and when Lucy asked me about it, I just rested my head
on the arm of the banquette as if dying and going to Heaven. I saved
those beautiful onions for last.
While
I was enjoying my steak I noticed that the Merlot was being
overpowered by the flavor of the meat. I changed to the 2011 Carpe
Diem Cabernet, Napa Valley. The full-bodied wine was a perfect match
for the dish.
The
desserts were all things I’ve had before, but the cheese platter
intrigued me. I love cheese and am willing try any kind. Here were
four selections I’ve never of. I didn’t even recognize the names,
looking them all up when I got home. The Four Murray’s Cheeses –
Cooperstown (in Milford, NY) Creamery Alice (a soft, yet firm, ripe
cow cheese), Bellweather Farms San Andreas (a sheep cheese made in
California near the fault line), Coach Farms Rawstruck (a soft
ripened raw milk goat cheese), and Hudson Valley, New York, Jasper
Hill Hazen Bleu (named for a Revolutionary War road in Vermont’s
Northeast Kingdom – Stilton-esque) were all spectacular from first
to last. They were served with raisins (still on the vine), honey on
the comb and a red fruit sauce with slices of toasted baguette.
Getting
the OK from Lucy on Brooklyn Roasting Company coffee (25 Jay Street),
I ordered a cup and followed it with a glass (the Empire State of
cordial glasses) of Cloudy Bay New Zealand Late Harvest Riesling. The
coffee was rich, dark and flavorful and the Riesling generally sweet,
but with tart, dry overtones.
I
learned later on that Chef Charlie Palmer was originally from the
restaurant Aureole. It’s been so long since I dined there I forgot.
This new place is a little over one month old. The décor (including
the chain-mail curtains) was designed by Gabellini Sheppard. The
restaurant not only has the elegant Waterford stemware but a Carrara
marble bar top. The wine racks form a backdrop to the bar – very
impressive. I know I have to return to this hotel sometime in the
future, because there is another restaurant called “Jakes”
somewhere in it (named after the founder) and they plan to open a
rooftop bar this spring called St. Cloud.
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