Dinner
and a Movie
Baby
Bat and Baccarat
By
Steve Herte
My
last week of vacation opened with a blast, both weather-wise and
entertainment-wise. Enjoy!
Hotel
Transylvania 2 (Columbia, 2015) – Director:
Genndy Tartakovsky. Writers: Robert Smigel & Adam Sadler. Voices:
Adam Sandler, Andy Samberg, Selena Gomez, Kevin James, Steve Buscemi,
David Spade, Keegan Michael-Key, Asher Blinkoff, Fran Drescher, Molly
Shannon, Jon Lovitz, Megan Mullally, Jonny Solomon, Nick Offerman,
Dana Carvey, Sadie Sandler, Rob Riggle, & Mel Brooks. Animated,
Color, Rated PG, 89 minutes.
“I
don’t say, ‘Blah, blah, blah!” scowls Count Dracula (Sandler)
when his grandson proudly speaks his first words. It’s a running
gag left over from Hotel
Transylvania (2012)
that continually gets his goat.
As
the camera zooms in on the iron gates of foreboding Castle Dracula at
the beginning of the film, it takes the audience through them, across
a courtyard and up to a modern glass revolving door and into the main
hall of the Hotel Transylvania. We’re at the wedding of Jonathan
and Mavis and their two families, one of monsters and the other of
humans, take their places on either side of the main aisle. The
Phantom of the Opera (voiced by Lovitz, of course) is at the organ
and the procession starts. The flower girl (human) is prettily
dressed and adorable – that is until several werewolf pups hijack
her in a whirlwind and muss up her hair and outfit – and the bride
appears at the entrance, in a black Morticia Addams-style dress and a
glittering veil of spider webs.
Six
months later, Mavis asks her father to go for a “fly” with her
(as bats) and, after a game of hide and seek in the clouds, reveals
her pregnancy to him. Dracula is overjoyed to have a new vampire
added to the family even though she cautions that it might be a
purely human child.
Dennis
(Blinkoff) is born with a thick head of curly red hair (from his
father) and Grandpa Drac (he calls himself “Vampa Drac”) can’t
wait to see his fangs grow in. “Maybe he’s a late-fanger. I was.”
He explains, eagerly awaiting the child’s fifth birthday, when they
will know for sure. As the time draws close for that ominous
birthday, Mavis wants to go to California and see the place where
Johnny grew up, possibly to move there should the child be human.
Fearful
that Johnny and Mavis will like living among humans and that they
will take his new grandson away, Dracula charges Johnny with not
making the trip too enjoyable and to keep Mavis distracted enough to
not phone home.
With
Mavis and Johnny out of the way, Dracula enlists his friends
Frankenstein (James), Wayne the werewolf (Buscemi), Griffin the
Invisible Man (Spade), and Murray the mummy Imhotep (Michael-Kaye)
and they all pile into a hearse with baby Dennis. Blobby the blob
(Solomon) insists on coming along but doesn’t fit comfortably
inside, so they hook up a sidecar for him. Their goal is to bring out
the vampiric side of Dennis before his parents return.
Not
all goes as planned however. The scary forest where Drac honed his
terror techniques is now populated by selfie-taking yuppies who think
monsters are cool. The “Vamp Camp” where he learned to fly is now
anything but scary and more Kumbaya than Creepy under the slightly
effeminate camp counselor, Dana (Carvey). The rickety tower he was
tossed off as a baby is now off-limits, but he and his crew climb it
and toss Dennis off. Of course, Drac has to rescue the kid when he
doesn’t fly on his own. But Frankenstein manages to topple the
tower and set himself afire and goes running through the campgrounds
lighting all the buildings in the process. It’s at this moment that
Mavis calls, hears the sirens and tells Drac she’s coming home. It
a wacky race back to Castle Dracula, one that Drac loses. Mavis has
made up her mind. She can’t even trust her Dad. After the fifth
birthday party, she, Johnny and Dennis are leaving for California.
The
night before the party it’s revealed that Mavis invited Grandpa
Vlad (Brooks). Dracula hastily decides to make it a monster costume
party to keep Vlad from learning that the hotel has been open to
humans (Vlad is “Old School” on this topic). But Vlad brings his
gargoyle pal Bela (Riggle) who can smell a human at 50 paces, and he
and his fellow gargoyles turn the last scene into a funny, frantic
fight, one that Dennis wins when his vampire side bursts forth as
Winnie the werewolf pup (Sandler) is injured by a gargoyle.
As
funny as Hotel Transylvania 2 is (I laughed several
times) it doesn’t quite come up to being as good as the original,
though it tries hard. I wanted to see more of Fran Drescher as the
Bride of Frankenstein than just a cameo. Molly Shannon had a bigger
part as Wanda the werewolf, wife of Wayne and mother of a huge litter
of pups. Still Robert Smigel and Adam Sandler did some great writing
for this movie. When Mavis destroys a piñata at the party, Wanda
warns her about candy and her pups but, too late. The pups devour all
the candy and become supercharged with energy, trash the bounce house
and anything else they run into. “There’s a reason they call it a
litter,” says Wayne.
The
3D effects were put to good use in the several flying scenes and the
concept of Frankenstein, the mummy, and the werewolf all getting out
of practice at being scary as they aged was hilarious. The comedy is
just sophisticated enough for adults and there are many scenes with
visual comedy for kids. It’s the second best performance by
Sandler. The first was the original.
Rating:
4 out of 5 Martini glasses.
Chevalier
30
West 53rd St.
(between 6th and
5th Avenues),
New York
After
Indian, French cuisine is my second favorite gustatory delight. And I
must be crazy about it, because New York was experiencing a
“Noreaster,” a rain event with wind gusts of up to 40 miles per
hour, and I had to fight the elements from 42nd Street
to 53rd to get to my dinner. Fortunately, it was not
a downpour and I had my London Fog coat.
I
arrived relatively unscathed at the Baccarat Hotel (no, I’ve never
heard of it either) where Chevalier has its own separate entrance.
It’s elegant and simple, just the name in script written vertically
up a black wall and lit in white light. Through two glass doors we
find the Captain’s Station and a small bar with a few tables. All
is shades of off-white, pearl and gray. The young lady noted my
reservation and another took my coat, umbrella and baggage, and I
followed the first one around the bar and into the main dining area
and to my table. The room is high ceilinged and the same color scheme
as the bar, except the walls have opalescent panels adding a gentle
blush to the décor and the carpet and wall banquettes are a rosy
tan. There are twin urns of magnolia branches and orange Amaryllis at
either end of the room and a wall of wine bottles lit in red behind
the first.
A
mature gentleman presented me with the wine list, took my water
preference and asked if I would like a cocktail. I made my standard
Groucho Marx joke about getting out of these wet things and into a
dry martini, and he smiled. But upon learning from him that the only
gins they had were Bombay Sapphire and Hendricks (yuck!), I ordered a
Stolichnaya vodka martini instead. Usually gin-less restaurants make
an abysmal vodka martini, but this one was impressively good, chilled
perfectly and without bruised ice floating in it.
My
server, Satomi, presented me with the food menu and was very patient
with me, as I took longer than usual to decide. Meanwhile, another
server brought me a pre-appetizer plate of three Lilliputian
delicacies. One was a puff pastry made with salmon roe and topped
with the same, the second was a little brown crunchy pyramid made
with goat cheese and the third resembled a tiny Linzer tart but was
neither cookie nor cherry.
The
menu was set up as a prix fixe of two or three
courses (including dessert). There were two appetizers that called to
me and that meant adding a course, which Satomi said could easily be
done. There were Starters, Sides, Mains and Desserts, with a special
category of dishes that could be shared at table. I had my first two
dishes chosen but was interested in three different main courses. The
young man at the next table had the pork loin (I learned this from
another server) and it looked very appetizing. The Atlantic black cod
with a curry flavor also intrigued me. But given the choice, Satomi
chose the duck dish, so did I.
While
Satomi went to register my order, the Amuse Bouche arrived. It was a
sushi-quality slice of Hamachi (Amberjack) resting on a paper-thin
slice of cucumber in a parsley sauce and topped with a sprig
of frisé. Light, delicate and delicious. I was
considering the wine I would choose and inwardly was hysterical at
the outrageous prices. Page after page, the wines were uniformly over
$200 each, some over $2,000! I was near the end of the wine list when
the same gentleman appeared at my table asking what I was interested
in. I told him I love a full-bodied red, but was unwilling to
purchase any over $100, for no wine is worth more than that.
Surprisingly, he was unflappable at that revelation and directed me
to a 2013 Gigondas, Domaine Du Grapillon D’Or (French, of course)
that was perfect for both my tastes and my pocketbook.
The
bread arrived next, still warm from the oven with a ramekin of fresh
butter. I learned that all of the bread was made in their kitchen,
from the mini baguettes I now had to the olive bread and sour dough I
had later. All were excellent.
It
was time for the first dish. The pan-seared foie gras with black
figs, sauternes gastrique and pain d’epices (literally spice bread,
actually gingerbread) was heavenly but the little dish of paté under
a sweet fruit topping was erotic. I tried it alone and in combination
with the other ingredients and it was always amazing. My lovely red
wine was a delicious companion to this and all my other dishes.
Next
on my choices was the homemade tortellini stuffed with wild mushrooms
and snowed under by three cheesy foams that had my senses reeling.
Satomi saw me roll my eyes while eating this dish and smiled
appreciatively.
My
main course was duck breast beautifully grilled with turnip, lavender
and a Medjool date purée. The duck was tender and juicy, sweet and
savory and, sided with a fabulous mushrooms fricassée, a celebration
of autumn. I had the olive bread and sour dough with this dish and
they helped to get every drop of sauce.
By
this time I was praising Chef Shea Gallante to seventh heaven, but
Satomi reminded me of the dessert still to come. I chose the Valhrona
Chocolate Soufflé with Grand Marnier Crème Anglaise and a pot of
Earl Grey tea: one to stimulate the pleasure center and the other to
calm it down. Both worked.
It’s
been a long time since I’ve dined at a classic French brasserie and
it was refreshing to know that some still exist. There are many
restaurants in New York calling themselves a “brasserie,” but
they neither live up to the title nor are they French (I recall one
in particular, downtown, where they gave me blank stares when I
pronounced the dishes in correct French). The Baccarat Hotel only
opened on Bastille Day, July 14. That would make Chevalier almost
three months old. They already have a Michelin star chef, hopefully
they will last a good long time. There are two more dishes I want to
try.
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