Lion(The Weinstein Company, 2016) – Director: Garth Davis. Writers: Luke Davies (s/p), Saroo Brierley (Book, A Long Way Home). Stars: Dev Patel, Nicole Kidman & Rooney Mara. Color, Rated PG-13, 118 minutes.
As a statement of the plight of many poor children in India who get separated from their families and lost in the bilingual system, this film is almost a docudrama. Based on the book A Long Way Home by Saroo Brierley, it tells the story of how he was in the wrong place at the wrong time and how it took 25 years before he saw his mother and sister again.
Five-year-old Saroo (Sunny Pawar) enjoys helping his big brother Guddu (Abhishek Bharate) swipe coal from a hopper car on a freight train to sell for two small packets of milk for his family. Neither of the boys tell their mother Kamla (Priyanka Bose) or their sister Shekila (Khushi Solanki) how they got the milk. At bedtime, later that day, Guddu gets ready to leave for “night work” and he cannot talk his brother out of joining him. At a train station in Khandwa province, Saroo falls asleep on a bench and Guddu tells him to stay there, promising to be back when he’s finished. Saroo wakes up, boards a train, finds a cozy corner and falls asleep again, only to awaken trapped on a fast moving train to Calcutta, 1600 kilometers away.
Saroo only speaks Hindi, while everyone else speaks Bengali, and no one can understand him to help. Finally, he meets a woman named Noor (Tannishtha Chatterjee) who gives him shelter and food and introduces him to Rama (Nawazuddin Siddiqui), a “very good man.” When Rama sizes Saroo up like a piece of meat, Saroo concludes that the two only have sleazy purposes for him and runs away. He retreats to the corridors of a railway station but is caught by the authorities who are clearing out the many displaced children sleeping there. He winds up in this large ruined building posing as an orphanage with hundreds of other children and makes friends with a little girl named Amita (Rita Boy).
One day, Mrs. Sood (Deepti Naval), an adoption counselor, arrives and tells Saroo that they have not been able to locate his real family or his town of Ganestalay, but they have found a mother and father for him in Australia. John Brierly (David Wenham) and his wife Sue (Nicole Kidman) take Saroo to Tasmania and raise him as their own, along with another boy, Mantosh (Keshav Jadhav) for a brother. Mantosh has a syndrome that causes him to act up in stressful conditions and needs special care.
Twenty years later, Saroo Brierly (Dev Patel) is a young man on love with Lucy (Rooney Mara) but haunted by memories of his childhood home in India. Conversations with Lucy and his friends lead him on a quest using Google Maps to find his way back. Mantosh Brierly (Divian Ladwa) is also a young man but he lives apart from his parents because of his condition.
It’s amazing how Sunny Pawar stays so calm through all his adventures while other children would become hysterical. It’s almost as if the wisdom of the ages resides in him. Nicole Kidman’s performance is heart-wrenching as the philanthropic mother who chooses to adopt rather than have her own children and endure the cultural difficulties involved with it. Dev Patel takes on this tough role of a man who loves his adopted parents but has an aching longing for his birth mother and family in India. You feel every frustration he experiences trying to locate his home using a 1600-kilometer circle centered on Calcutta, with the hundreds of train stations within it. I missed him in Slumdog Millionaire (2008), but I saw him in both Best Exotic Marigold Hotel movies (2012 and 2015) and Chappie (2015) and heard him in The Last Airbender (2010) and I’ve been very impressed. This role is his greatest I've seen.
I especially enjoyed the scenic photography in this movie. The aerial shots, videos on a moving train and the excellent use of ground-up camerawork which helped this story achieve an almost epic quality. The soundtrack is also excellent. Nothing to interfere with the story, only to accent the scenes and underscore the dilemma.
Lion is a little long but I was never bored. In fact I learned a few things. Saroo mispronounced two things until adulthood, his town, Ganesh Talai (which means the pond of Ganesha, the protective elephant-headed god) and his name, Sheru (meaning “Lion”), hence the title of the film.
I enjoyed Lion much more than I expected and recommend it to all parents and couples considering children. And remember to bring a box of tissues.
Friends have expressed concern over my choice to dine alone on my first time at a restaurant, but it has its advantages. If I don’t like the food, you have only myself to blame. I get a pretty good idea of what the service would be like should I bring friends and, if I get the address wrong or can’t find the place, the adventure’s mine alone and not my companion’s frustration.
Mykonos Blue is a case in point. At 127 W. 28th St. it’s part of the Hayden Hotel, an establishment I’ve never heard of. Nowhere did I see the number 127, either. I saw 131 to its left and 125 to its right and deduced the correct address. Only a chalkboard stand on the sidewalk announces Mykonos Blue’s presence, with a white chalk arrow pointing into the hotel.
Inside I was greeted by the lobby staff. When I asked about the restaurant a young man pointed to a marble corridor to the right of the hotel elevators and poof! There it was. No name above the door or on a sign anywhere.
The restaurant was empty at 7:45 pm on a Friday, which I put down to it being a hotel restaurant in a hotel nobody knew about. Spyros, the young man and my server, gave me a choice of tables and I chose one where I could sit on the white leather banquette and have a full view of the entire 18-table dining area as well as the bar.
Spyros explained that the restaurant has only been open for two days after “renovations,” by far the youngest restaurant I’ve ever visited. As I was the only diner, he took me on a short tour, starting with the selection of fresh fish available for dinner, all neatly arranged on ice.
On our way past the bar he asked if I wanted a cocktail and I told him I was a martini man. “Vodka?” “Sure, how about flavored vodkas?” “We have orange, raspberry and fig.” “Fig? Really? Let’s make a martini out of that with a twist of lemon.”
Figenza vodka uses figs from Greece and Turkey and is produced by the Behn Family of Eckernförde, Germany, on the Baltic coast. It was delicious, a little too sweet but an interesting spin on the martini.
Spyros and I conferred on my dinner choices. After 54 Greek restaurants I told him I was interested in the unusual dishes, even though the menu featured some of my all-time favorites, like youvetsi (lamb shank) and moussaka. I settled on two appetizers and a grilled fish entrée.
First was seftalia, grilled Cypriot-style meatballs on a bed of tzatziki (yoghurt, cucumbers, garlic and oil), garnished with chopped tomatoes, onions and cucumber surrounded by more olive oil. They were tender enough to cut with a fork, well-cooked at the medium-rare level and delicious.
The second appetizer arrived at the same time as the first, but in Greek restaurants, that’s not surprising. It’s always fun to switch between dishes and compare flavors. Halloumi is a dish I’ve had several times before and I’ll order it whenever I go Greek. It’s that addictive – grilled Cypriot cheese topped with capers in a citrus-mustard vinaigrette. It was a little salty, a bit chewy (a good thing) and crisp where the grill marks were.
Spyros and I had decided that before the main course was ready I would select a wine. He suggested the 2015 Nykteri wine (made from Assyrtico grapes) from Spyros Hatziyiannis vineyards on the island of Santorini. It was perfect, with an iodine-like nose and a crisp, dry, resin-like edge.
Normally, when I order fish in a Greek restaurant I get the whole fish intact and I’ve become adept at de-boning my own dinner. The chef here does that for you. My lavraki, a whole branzino (Mediterranean sea bass), was virtually boneless and butterflied on the plate. Just the head and tail and a plateful of flaky, sweet fish with the tang of capers and olive oil. Spyros even used my dish to demonstrate the filet techniques to the diet debaters. I chose the leek rice as a side and it was wonderful. The rice was a large, fluffy grain and the tender, flavorful leeks were visible throughout. The Nyteri accented each dish in classic Greek style.
Dessert was a selection prepared ahead of time, only a yes or no decision. Baklava, chocolate mousse and galaktoboureko (a custard cake made with filo dough) all shared a single plate. All delicious. Spyros asked me if I’d ever been to Greece because of my pronunciation. Sorry, no. Just restaurants. I ordered sweet Greek coffee and a glass of Ouzo to finish my meal, again, very good.
When word gets around, Mykonos Blue will be quite popular. I heard someone in the lobby say, “They’re open?” when I entered. I also found out that they also have a rooftop dining area for warmer weather (it’s open to the sky). A good enough reason to return, but then there are all those other favorite dishes to try.
Split By Steve Herte
Split (Universal, 2016) – Director: M. Night Shyamalan. Writer: M. Night Shyamalan. Stars: James McAvoy, Anna Taylor-Joy, Haley Lu Richardson, Jessica Sula, Sebastian Arcelus, Lyne Renee, Ameerah Briggs, Betty Buckley, Izzie Coffey, Nakia Dillard, Dann Fink, Jerome Gallman, Kash Goins, Brad William Henke, Rosemary Howard, Neal Huff, Kate Jacoby, Robin Rieger, M. Night Shyamalan, Julie Potter, Peter Patrikios, Christopher Lee Philips, Ukee Washington, Robert Michael Kelly, & Emlyn Morinelli Macfarland. Color, Rated PG-13, 117 minutes.
“The broken are the more evolved” – Dennis (James McAvoy).
Even though there have been movies about young girls being abducted and locked in underground, spooky places, and films about multiple personalities, this one stands out. Maybe it’s because it goes for the Ripley’s award of most identities contained in a single person. Maybe it’s because it proposes a new theory about multiple personae, “An individual with multiple personalities can change their body chemistry with their thoughts,” says Dr. Karen Fletcher (Buckley). Or, maybe it’s M. Night Shayamalan’s Hitchcock touch, where a scene builds the audience up for something scary and leaves them hanging, only to deliver the knock-out punch when they least expect it.
I will admit I was glued to my seat wondering what will happen next, even though the trailers gave away more than I would like them to have done. The opening scene introduces us to Claire Benoit (Richardson), a high school student whose father Dennis (Huff) is waiting to drive her and her girlfriend Marcia (Sula) home from school. Casey Cooke (Taylor-Joy) stands by the window and it looks like her ride isn’t coming. Casey is not like Claire and Marcia as Claire is quick to point out, that she’s been in detention every day that past week. Nevertheless, Mr. Benoit offers to take Casey home too and she accepts. He loads up the trunk of the car while the girls get in, we hear a thump and the trunk closing and Dennis sits in the driver seat. Donning a particle-filter mask, he sprays Claire and Marcia with something to knock them out and later sprays Casey when she attempts to open her door, and drives away.
The girls wake up in a locked room without windows, obviously underground and meagerly furnished. Dennis is strange and brooding and they have only minimal ideas of what he wants with them. Claire and Marcia are near panic-stricken but Casey is oddly calm and detached. Claire wants to rally all three to attack Dennis and escape, but neither she nor Marcia can get Casey to join their cause.
Meanwhile, in another part of Philadelphia (Shyamalan’s seeming favorite city setting) Barry, a talented fashion designer, pays an unexpected visit to Dr. Fletcher, his psychiatrist. Obviously to the audience and to Dr. Fletcher, this is the same man who is Dennis, and she tries to speak to Dennis but Barry will not let her. She humors him, knowing there are 22 other personalities “sitting in chairs” deep down inside him, including the original one, Kevin Wendell Crumb.
We are later treated to several flashbacks in Casey’s life to explain her attitude or lack thereof. She’s five years old (Coffey) and on a deer hunting camping trip with her father (Arcelus) and her Uncle John (Henke). Her father teaches her to shoot a rifle and a shotgun and her uncle teaches her pedophilia and is nearly shot by her for doing so. But Casey is trapped. Her father succumbs to a heart attack and she’s stuck with no recourse but to live with her lecherous Uncle John.
Though there are 24 personalities abiding in Kevin, the audience only gets to meet eight of them, including The Beast. Dennis and Patricia (another of his personalities) have been preparing the way for The Beast and the girls are a part of that preparation, the grisly end. The only personality we see for any length of time is Hedwig, an awkward, shy nine-year-old boy with a distinct lisp whom Casey tries to befriend in hopes of escaping. Later, we glimpse Orwell and Jade on Kevin’s computer and we see the other names in video files on the screen.
James McAvoy does a splendid job switching among his varied personae with an obvious mental effort that seems almost painful and he keeps the attitudes and facial differences so distinctly, you know who has just “entered the light.” Anya Taylor-Joy runs the gamut in acting, displaying at times restrained terror, interested shock, veiled concern and sly bravery. Haley Lu Richardson and Jessica Sula are the perfect opposites from Anya with their over-the-top fear displays and fool-hardy actions. But the great Betty Buckley is my favorite. I remember her from Cats on Broadway. She’s excellent as a psychiatrist, complementing, cajoling, always smiling and concerned, while trying to get Dennis to reveal his (and Patricia’s) secret plans.
As Hitchcock always did, so does M. Night Shyamalan. Look for him as Jai, a young man who loves going to Hooters’ restaurants. Another cameo you can’t miss is Bruce Willis, at the end of the film, answering the question, “Wasn’t there that guy in the wheelchair 15 years ago? What was his name?” with “Mr. Glass.” Split is one of M. Night Shyamalan’s better films. Having seen 10 out of his 14 so far I would put it way above The Village (2004) and Lady in the Water (2006), but just below Signs (2002) and Unbreakable (2000). Though not for the whole family, the gore is kept to a minimum, sexual content is only hinted at and vulgarity is nonexistent. Quite an accomplishment for a 2017 horror/thriller. As I said, I was riveted to my seat. The only negative I can think of was the scene where McAvoy, as The Beast, starts climbing a vertical wall and it’s obvious that there was some kind of wire pulling him up that was edited out – his left foot slides up the wall rather than gripping it. Other than that, I enjoyed it.
Ever since my parents took me to see The King and I on the big screen I’ve been fascinated by the architecture and ornamentation of classical Siam, now Thailand. That architecture is replicated at Thai Villa, from a large tree with golden leaves etched on it in a circle on the outside to the main dining area, shaded by thousands of shimmering gold leaves, and continuing the image of this mythic tree.
My server, a slight, friendly young woman named Aui, brought a three-sectioned leather-bound food menu along with a wine list. On the left side on the menu were listed the Classic Thai dishes. In the center are the “Privileged” Thai dishes – gleaned from the royal days of old Siam. And on the right are the chef’s Signature dishes. Looking at the cocktail list I ordered a Pandan cocktail – Old Tom gin, green chartreuse and citrus juices garnished with a pandanus leaf. Very nice.
While I was choosing my meal another server brought a shot glass of soup as an amuse bouche that tasted like a light pea soup with hint of green curry and yellow lentils. Again, very nice.
The place was nearly full and the servers were bustling back and forth. The next time I could get Aui’s attention, I ordered my dinner: one classic appetizer, one privileged appetizer and an entrée from the same central section. I chose the 2013 Old Vine Garnacha from Breca vineyards, Spain, a beautiful, medium-bodied deep red wine with a peppery after taste.
I’ve always loved Thai curry puffs, filled with minced organic chicken, potatoes and onions, cooked with curry powder and served with a sweet cucumber relish for either dipping or pouring over. The spice level was low and only added a hint of the exotic, while the rice flour shell of the puffs was delicate and crisp and the insides soft, warm and savory. With the sweet cucumber relish it was a great combination.
The “Royal” appetizer was Ray Rai Nah Phu – minced shrimp and rice noodles with curry paste in betel leaves, topped with lump crab meat and garnished with a ring of red chili pepper. I asked Aui if this was finger-food. She said yes, you just wrap the individual contents in the leaf and eat it as if it were a taco. It was amazing. Everything was so minced together I couldn’t distinguish the noodle part, but the shrimp and the crab asserted their flavors and the curry and chili pepper merely added a touch of spice.
My main course was the royal pad Thai, consisting of prawns, shallots, beansprouts, chive leaves, peanuts, bean curd, and dried shrimp wrapped in an egg nest pancake and resting on a red banana leaf and garnished on top with parsley. This dish is never spicy in any Thai restaurant and I’ve had it in several, but not like this. I had a great time with this dish.
Not surprisingly, there were only four desserts, including a selection of sorbets. I wanted to continue in the exotic style and ordered the banana crepes. Nothing like a French crepe, these were closer to Chinese fried bananas, but with a crepe-like, crispy coating and vanilla ice cream. The plate was artfully drizzled the both white and dark chocolate sauces. Excellent.
In the time I was there, the couple to my left had ordered a spicy tea as a cocktail before their meal and it was served in a beautiful glass teapot with matching glass cups and saucers. I had to have tea after my meal. Aui suggested Oolong tea and I agreed. The teapot had a central repository for the tea leaves and you could watch as your tea slowly darkened as you finished your dessert. I waited until it attained a deep golden color. It was delicious without sugar or milk. I ordered a glass of Bulleit Bourbon to finish off this truly royal meal.
I love restaurants that provide a transporting experience and Thai Villa lived up to everything it promised online. I can’t wait to go back and try some of the “spicy” dishes.
La La Land
Given a choice
of Monster Trucks and La La Land, which would
you choose? Of the movies playing at the right time in the right
location, that was my dilemma. I’m that rare kind of guy who loves
a good musical. Yes, they’re often sappy and sometimes a stretch to
the imagination, but just as often they can be memorable and even
endearing. When this happens, situations in life recall a show tune
and make one laugh in a sad time or get misty in a happy one.
Granted, some of them make you wonder what the producers were
thinking but, thankfully, those are few and far between. Enjoy!
La Land (Lionsgate, 2016) – Director: Damien
Chazelle. Writer: Damien Chazelle. Stars: Ryan Gosling, Emma Stone,
Amiee Conn, Terry Walters, Thom Shelton, Cinda Adams, Callie
Hernandez, Jessica Rothe, Sonoya Mizuno, Rosemarie DeWitt, J.K.
Simmons, Claudine Claudio, Jason Fuchs, D.A. Wallach, & Trevor
Lissauer. Color, Rated PG-13, 128 minutes.
Growing up I’ve
been accused many times of being in “La-La Land,” a kind of
disoriented state bordering on confusion and indecision. So naturally
I took the title of this film to indicate a crazy, anything-goes trip
set to music and I delayed seeing it. Then I heard that it won all
seven Golden Globe Awards it was nominated for and that piqued my
curiosity. On top of that, it was nominated for a record-tying 14
Academy Awards. Hoping it was a parody or a satire on Hollywood
musicals, I took the chance.
The movie opens on a
traffic jam on the on-ramp to a Los Angeles freeway. No vehicle can
move. So what do they do? Get out of their cars and start the big
opening number, “Another Day of Sun,” of course. All the drivers
can sing in harmony, dance lightly between and on the cars,
skateboard and bicycle to the joyous music coming from nowhere and
everywhere. The typical opening for a typical Hollywood show and
mildly humorous considering the situation.
However, the film
coasts downhill from there. It follows a familiar formula with a few
twists. Boy meets girl, girl snubs boy. Girl meets boy again, this
time he snubs her. They meet a third time and gradually fall in love.
They tell each other their dreams and give each other encouragement.
The dreams don’t sync with each other. Boy loses girl and they both
dream about how it might have been if they could do it over. That’s
is a jazz pianist and purist who wants to open his own club, not just
anywhere, but on the spot occupied by a Samba/Tapas restaurant. He
resents the concept, especially because the building has historic
jazz heritage. Mia (Stone) is not exactly the stereotypical waitress
auditioning for parts in plays. She’s a barista in a coffee shop on
a Hollywood lot and doesn’t have to walk far for her auditions.
She’s been at this for six years and wants to put on a one-woman
play she wrote, which is doomed to failure.
Needless to say,
including musical numbers, this movie should not be two hours and
eight minutes long. Especially, when the featured song, “City of
Lights” insinuates itself into every scene after its first
appearance, like “Lara’s Theme” in Doctor Zhivago.
If it was as good as “Lara’s Theme” it would not be that
intrusive. Yet it won the Golden Globe. Randy Newman, where are you
this year? At least his songs are memorable.
I was squirming in
my seat telling myself, they can’t be serious. It must be a spoof.
But aside from the opening, it’s didn't pull me in like a hooked
fish. The dialogue is hokey and should evoke laughter but only does
so occasionally. The acting is forced and the choreography (with the
exception of the waltz) was cramped and clumsy. I understand that
Ryan Gosling learned tap dancing just for this role. It was good for
the three seconds he got to demonstrate his expertise. There were
many missed opportunities for glory, late dance steps (even in the
waltz through the stars in the Griffith Observatory) and too many
dead spaces that had me mentally shouting, “Move it!”
Gosling was a
believable character most of the time, but despite her big eyes, Emma
Stone’s wooden acting could have been accomplished by a department
The one song I did
like, “(What a Waste of) A Lovely Night,” sung gazing at the
typical view of L.A. from the Hollywood Hills, was cheapened by the
dance routine involving (for some, hopefully comic reason) dragging
of feet as a part of the “style.” If this was parody, it wasn’t
Did I have a
favorite character? Yes, when J.K. Simmons shows up as a restaurant
owner who fires Sebastian for disobeying his rule of “Christmas
songs only” at his establishment. La La Land promised
more than it delivered and could have been a really great comic
musical with the right stars, choreographer and editor.
With the change in
relations between the governments of the U.S. and Cuba, and the
nearness of this restaurant to my theater on a rainy night, I chose
to visit my sixth Cuban cuisine restaurant. Havana NY advertises
itself as “authentic” Cuban food and has been in operation since
1991 for good reason. It’s that great.
A cool blue glow
emanates from the bar on the left as I confirmed my reservation. I
was led to the main dining area, a beautiful room made to look like
an arcade with faux fieldstone arches leading to a street scene in
Havana, complete with a parked 1950’s style car, and was seated on
a leather banquette facing the arches on the opposite wall.
My server, Jesus,
introduced himself and asked if I would like a cocktail. I asked him
what a typical Cuban would order. “Mojitos, of course!” I agreed
to this refreshing cocktail (meaning “a little wet” in Spanish)
consisting of rum, lime, mint leaves, sugar and club soda. As I
generally eschew the flavor of mint except in certain dishes, I was
careful where I order this drink. It was excellent and I told Jesus
it was the best one I’ve ever had. (I just didn’t have the heart
to tell him it the first one I’ve ever had.) Jesus beamed with
I mulled over the
many selections on the two-page menu while sipping my drink. And just
when I had my choices made, another server appeared to take my order.
The efficiency was impressive. No wonder no table sat vacant for
long, even though I viewed this crowd as theater-goers who would
disappear in a half-hour.
I wanted to choose
dishes new to me, and since black bean soup was familiar, I
chose Sopa de Frijoles Rojos (red bean soup). It was the
definition of “hearty” with a thick broth, chunks of potato,
onion and of course, lots of red beans. Very good.
Obvious to me was my
choice of wine, a 2014 Campo Viejo Tempranillo from Spain (I really
did look for a Cuban wine, but there were none) and it was
delightful. The delicate spice of the nose and the medium body red
accompanied all of the dishes with a flamenco flair.
My second course was
new to me. The Papas Rellenas de Carne – potato puffs
stuffed with beef – was as unusual as it was tasty. Imagine mashed
potatoes formed into a ball around ground beef and then deep fried,
served with a creamy dressing, and garnished with red cabbage and
corn. People have asked me if it was spicy. No, none of my dishes
were spicy in the least. Just good, honest, natural flavored food.
The closest Cubans get to spice is garlic. These were wonderful. I
was rapidly becoming full and I knew what was yet to arrive. Both of
the people at the next table had ordered it and I saw the size of the
As Jesus had listed
the specials of the day, the last one hooked me: a fist-sized pork
shank served with a mesa of browned rice and black beans and
garnished once again with red cabbage and corn. The meat was tender
enough to fall off the bone and just fatty enough to be rich. The
rice and beans were a little dry, but mixed with the meat and the
dark gravy, they were great. I finished the pork shank and bravely
challenged the remaining rice and beans, but even with my wine, could
not finish them. I had to save room for dessert.
enthusiastic about dessert and touted the Churros (think
sugar-coated doughnuts formed into logs with a sweet dipping sauce).
They would prove too heavy for me.
Then he cited
the Pan Leche as being very good. I agreed. A true Pan
Leche is a sweet bread made with milk and looks something like a
Parker House roll when finished. This was actually a Tres Leches cake
with a white icing made also from milk on a beautiful square white
plate decorated with a white and dark chocolate sauce skillfully
placed to look like an ornamental border. The cake was moist, sweet
and was heaven when dipped in that attractive scrolls of the sauce.
I asked Jesus if
there was such a thing as Cuban coffee and soon I had the cross-breed
between espresso and cappuccino, a dark Cuban Espresso with a foam
topping. Next to it was a sweet confection made from coconut. Very
nice. And how to finish off an authentic Cuban dinner? Jesus knew,
and brought me a snifter of Vizcaya VXOP rum, a true taste of old
(19th century) Havana. I think, If I liked cigars and they were
allowed, I would have been totally Cubanized. The manager gave me a
nod and offered to get me a second glass. I took a rain check on that
for my next visit.
Hidden Figures By Steve Herte
Hidden Figures(20th Century Fox, 2016) - Director: Theodore Melfi. Writers: Theodore Melfi & Alison Schroeder (s/p). Margot Lee Shetterly(book). Stars: Taraji P. Henson, Octavia Spencer, Janelle Monáe, Kevin Costner, Kirsten Dunst, Jim Parsons, Mahershala Ali, Aldis Hodge, Glen Powell, Kimberly Quinn, Olek Krupa, Kurt Krause, Ken Strunk, Lidia Jewett, & Donna Biscoe. Color, Rated PG, 127 minutes.
A superb cast, brilliant directing and scripting make this uplifting film one to catch, as its two hours and seven minutes go by in a flash.
The year is 1961 in Langley Research Center in a still segregated Virginia (the property was originally a plantation). The Russians have launched four versions of Sputnik and America is desperately playing catch-up. NASA is recruiting the finest minds as “human computers” to get a man into orbit before the Russians.
Enter three young black women, Katherine Johnson (Henson) a widow whose husband died of a brain tumor and mother of three daughters, Dorothy Vaughan (Spencer) a single mother with two sons, and Mary Jackson (Monáe) wife of Levi Jackson (Hodge) and mother of one son and a daughter. They join a group of about 30 other talented black women working in the west wing at Langley, computing and checking figures that come from the all-white, all-male east wing.
Katherine is a prodigy whose love of numbers and abilities with analytic geometry soon get her transferred to the east wing where she not only has to prove her superiority in deciphering and factoring, but she has to deal with being the only black woman in the building other than the custodial staff. Al Harrison (Costner), the director of the Space Task Group and her boss, soon recognizes her capability and sets her to the task of checking the figures of Paul Stafford (Parsons), his number one mathematician. Despite the excessive redaction Paul makes on his work, Katherine correctly concludes that the Atlas rocket is better to put a man into orbit than the one used to put Alan Shepard into low-Earth orbit. The pressure increases when the Russians launch Yuri Gargarin as the first man in orbit.
Dorothy is a natural leader and finds herself delegating the work assignments in the west wing without the title of supervisor, no matter how she explains it to her boss, Vivian Mitchell (Dunst). She learns about the IBM mainframe being built at Langley and how it can put all of her ladies out of a job. She “borrows” a book on Fortran programming from an all-white library before being asked to leave, learns it and can operate the mainframe before the the IBM Technicians can figure it out. She also teaches the west wing ladies how to operate it.
Mary has the mind and heart of an engineer. She also has the schooling credits to be one, until NASA adds one more class at the last minute. “Every time we get a chance to get ahead they move the finish line. Every time.” She sighs. But Mary has the encouragement of her co-worker, Karl Zielinski (Krupa), a Polish/Jewish man who is working on the design of the Mercury capsule with her. She gets her case heard in court and is granted permission to attend night classes at an all-white engineering school.
Though Hidden Figures is about higher mathematics, physics, and engineering, it is never dry. Though it’s about segregation and racism, it’s never oppressive. The dialogue and the sometimes humorous lengths the three women go to get their work done keep the forward motion of the film barreling ahead. For the life of me, I don’t know how Taraji ran back and forth from the east to the west wing in high heels (once in the rain) just to use the segregated restroom while carrying an armload of paperwork. The three portrayals are a delight to watch and their characters are true role models for young girls.
Bring a box of tissues. This film has multiple tender moments, most poignantly, Lt. Colonel Jim Johnson’s (Ali) marriage proposal to Katherine. John Glenn, convincingly portrayed by Glen Powell, relies on Katherine’s figures before he will board Friendship 7. My favorite moments? When Katherine uses Euler’s formula to calculate the reentry of Friendship 7, we hear, “That’s ancient!” from Stafford. To which Katherine replies, “But it works.” And when it takes Katherine 45 minutes to race to the restroom across the compound and back, Harrison takes a crowbar and removes the “Colored Women’s Room” sign saying, “Here at NASA we all pee the same color!”
This is a very special movie, to be seen by everyone. It gets all of its lessons across cleanly and effectively, and gives us a peek not the history we were never taught in school.
Some think that in order to be good, a restaurant must be expensive, luxurious, in a posh location and impossible to get a reservation. I could go on and on about the devastating faults of many such places. Though Henry’s End doesn’t take reservations for parties under four, I’ve never been turned away. It may look like a bricked-up hole-in-the-wall from the outside with just its bright red neon scripted name in the window, and confusing décor inside (some say it has none), but I’ve never been more comfortable. The only thing close to the first description is that the people of Brooklyn Heights consider their neighborhood to be posh. No matter, for every time I go to Henry’s End I’m greeted warmly, if not by Manager/Chef Mark Lahm, then by one or more of the staff. They remember how I like my martini and duplicate it each time. This is my version of Cheers.
This is why I make it a point to start every New Year with a dinner at Henry’s End. This year, I had two lovely ladies joining me for dinner, one of whom has not experienced the remarkable cuisine and intimacy of the place. We got a table almost halfway down the length of the restaurant, between the makeshift nook that serves as a bar and the wine dispensary.
October starts the Annual Fall/Winter Game Festival at Henry’s End (even though, by popular demand, certain dishes are on the menu year-round) and I was eager to see which ones my dining companions would choose. Let’s start with the appetizers.
The newly initiated tried the Kangaroo Potstickers, which was more like tender ravioli than dumplings and was served Japanese style with chives and mushrooms and a soy dipping sauce. If you’ve never had kangaroo, this is the place to try it: light in flavor, and the texture more like pork.
My more adventurous companion chose the Game Charcuterie Plate – country game pate, wild boar belly, and rabbit sausage. Even though I was eyeing the pate, I didn’t get a taste before it was gone. I’m guessing it was really good.
I had gnocchi with buffalo short rib ragout over mashed potatoes. It seems redundant to have a pasta made from potatoes and then rest it on more potatoes but this dish worked. The ragout infused the gnocchi with its savory taste and the buffalo meat was juicy and tender. The mashed potatoes were creamy and performed the part of an accent to the dish.
We ordered the Pan Roasted Vegetables — corn on the cob, carrots, Brussels sprouts, onions, baby eggplant and artichoke hearts with fresh herbs, polenta, goat cheese and balsamic vinegar glaze for the table and enjoyed every bite.
In the same order, our neophyte chose the Salmon Moroccan – grilled salmon steak topped with a spiced compound butter and served with mashed potatoes. It was flaky and moist, lightly spiced, and, though I’m not a fan of salmon, I liked it. The lady born under the sign of Aries, just newly introduced to lobster, picked the Penne with Lobster Tomato Cream, chunks of lobster in a brandy tomato cream sauce. It looked fantastic.
I had the Blackbuck Texas antelope with braised red cabbage in a juniper sauce, over mashed potatoes. I’m very particular about mashed potatoes; if they’re not right, I don’t eat them. But at Henry’s End. Mark flavors them so that they’re irresistible. The antelope is the only game dish on the menu I’ve never seen or tried. It was like a fine steak marinated in that wonderful juniper sauce – very tender and juicy, and easy to cut, nicely seared on the outside and pinkish-red on the inside.
Martinis, though perfect, are not the only drink at Henry’s End. I ordered a glass of Troublemaker varietal (Petit Syrah, Mourvedre, zinfandel and grenache), a deep dark red with rich tannins and tart fruity flavor.
Surprisingly, two of us had room for dessert. The newest person to Henry’s End was sated, but the other chose the Dark and White Chocolate Mousse – half Valhrona white chocolate and half bittersweet. My dessert was the Banana Bread Pudding with vanilla ice cream. All it needed was rum, but I took care of that with my after dinner drink: Kirk and Sweeney 23-year old rum, served in a snifter. It was almost like a fine grappa, but not as strong. The ladies were already planning a return trip to try more of the exotic game dishes and I’ll probably join them. After all, it is my version of Cheers.
Sing By Steve Herte
Sing(Universal, 2016) – Directors: Christophe Lourdelet & Garth Jennings. Writer: Garth Jennings. Voices: Matthew McConaughey, Reese Witherspoon, Seth McFarlane, Scarlett Johansson, John C. Reilly, Taron Egerton, Tori Kelly, Jennifer Saunders, Jennifer Hudson, Garth Jennings, Peter Serafinowicz, Nick Kroll, Beck Bennett, Jay Pharoah, & Nick Offerman. Color, Animated, Rated PG, 108 minutes.
Although this is a story that’s been oft repeated, it makes classic film lovers think back to the Mickey Rooney and Bing Crosby days with a certain nostalgia. Buster Moon (McConaughey) has loved the theater since he was a little koala sitting with his Dad in the balcony watching a grand performance on stage.
Buster’s Dad worked his whole life to get enough money to buy Buster his own theater and he’s never had a hit show. Now, he’s virtually broke. Still, with blind optimism and extreme chutzpah he tells his best friend, Eddie Noodleman (Reilly), a sheep, that he intends to host a singing contest to revive the failing theater.
Buster dictates a flier to his elderly chameleon secretary, Miss Crawly (Jennings), but before she prints it, her glass eye is blown out of its socket and hits the zero key on her computer, changing a $1,000 dollar prize into a $100,000 dollar prize. She copies it into a stack of papers taller than she is and the wind blows the entire stack out the window and around the town. It turns out to be a very successful method of dissemination and there’s a long line of creatures waiting outside the Moon Theater on audition day.
Here’s where the subplots come in. After hearing snippets of dozens of songs performed by animals ranging from spiders to giraffes and snails to elephants, Buster chooses his finalists for the contest: Rosita (Witherspoon), a harried mother pig with 25 piglets and a husband too tired after work to pay attention to her; Mike (MacFarlane), a white mouse who swindles a trio of bears in a card game and buys an expensive car to impress a girl mouse; Ash (Johansson), a teenage porcupine who only sang back-up vocals with her boyfriend Lance (Bennett) in a punk-style band; a troop of acrobatic frogs; a quintet of bouncing Chow-Chow dogs who only speak Chinese; an operatic camel; and Johnny (Egerton), a young gorilla whose father, Big Daddy (Serafinowicz), leads a gang of thieving gorillas. Meena (Kelly), an elephant with stage fright, tries out but bombs because of her fear. Later, after she assists Buster in pirating electricity from a neighboring building, Meena becomes a stagehand.
The rehearsals are not without problems. Buster pairs Rosita with Gunter (Kroll) as a song and dance routine, but she doesn’t really dance. He gives Ash a sappy song and costume that really doesn’t suit her style and he convinces Johnny to play piano while he sings, even though he hasn’t played since early ape-hood. Buster assigns Miss Crawley to be his piano teacher. To make rehearsals, Rosita builds an elaborate Rube Goldberg contraption to take care of her family while she’s gone. Ash has to deal with Lance singing “sell-out” songs to her and taking up with a new girlfriend, Becky, and Johnny misses a rendezvous with his father’s gang as getaway driver on a gold heist and his Dad and gang are arrested.
But that’s not all. When the electric company cuts off the theater’s lights, Buster gets an idea to use bioluminescent squid to light his stage and invites Eddie’s wealthy grandma, Nana Noodleman (Saunders) – who looks and acts like an ovine Norma Desmond - to the preview show. The bears come as well to collect on Mike’s debt and crack the glass tanks holding the squid and flood the theater, literally bringing the house down.
What would Mickey Rooney do? The old-time memories brought back by this remarkably computer-animated film are dwarfed by the amount the producer probably had to pay in royalties. Over 60 classic pop songs are sung in part or in entirety, including the Beatles’ “Golden Slumbers” and “Carry That Weight,” Stevie Wonder’s “Don’t You Worry ‘Bout a Thing” and Elton John’s “I’m Still Standing.” And none of the songs are forced into the plot.
Other voices in the cast feature Jennifer Hudson as a young Nana Noodleman, Jay Pharoah as Meena’s grandfather, Laraine Newman as her grandmother and Leslie Jones as her mother. The cast, the animation, the pathos and the nostalgia combine with the music to make Sing a top-notch contender for Oscar nominations. Along with the familiar songs, there are also two new ones; “Faith” an original song by Stevie Wonder and Ariana Grande and “The Way I Feel Inside” written by Garth Jennings and David Bassett. It will get your feet tapping, it’ll make you laugh, and you’ll tear up. Two words: see it!
When you have a restaurant with a chef who combines elements from Cuban, Chinese, Japanese, Thai, Vietnamese, and Korean cuisines you have to have some ‘give and take,’ precisely what Zengo means in Japanese. Opened by Richard Sandoval and Placido Domingo in April 2011, this cavernous corner space houses the restaurant proper and a tequila lounge upstairs with a library of 400 tequilas, presided over by New York’s only tequila librarian.
My server Ferenc greeted me with a broad smile and took my cocktail order. The Cucumber Serrano Martini – El Silencio mescal, muddled cucumber, serrano chili and citrus – was a perfect starter, a refreshing cool drink with a spicy rim on the glass and a slight kick. I selected three courses and told him to stagger the dishes in time, along with a bottle of the 2011 Flechas De Los Andes Gran Malbec, Mendoza, Argentina. The Malbec was a beautiful deep ruby color, medium body with a spicy aftertaste to compliment my entire meal.
The first course caught my attention when I viewed the menu online. The pork & caviar Shumai dumplings was a combination I couldn’t resist. Normally, Shumai are made with shrimp. Replace the shrimp with savory pork and slightly salty caviar and the Japanese dumpling becomes Cuban and, in a light soy jus with chopped chives, it was pure delight.
Another basically Japanese course, the volcano roll – salmon, spicy crab and cucumber, all wrapped California-style in rice and topped with bright red caviar – was a festive dish. The spice was light and didn’t interfere with the salmon’s sweetness and the crab’s fishy texture. After tasting one segment unadorned I tried the next with a bit of the wasabi and the flavor exploded!
Next, a Chinese-style dish, the Shanghai strip steak over broccolini in a caramel-soy sauce. The steak was medium rare, juicy and full of marinated flavor, tender, and easy to slice. Though broccolini would never be found in a Chinese recipe, it provided a wonderful accent to this dish and the caramel sweet leveled out the soy salty. The side dish of taro fries topped with a lemon aioli added fun to the meal. After two dishes eaten with chopsticks, it was great to use a knife and fork and have a finger-food side.
Ferenc took my entire meal into consideration before recommending the chocolate tres leches – salted caramel and chocolate sauce. The large Latino wedge of soft, soaked chocolate cake was coated with a chocolate pudding-like substance, topped with white chocolate extrusions, drizzled with chocolate sauce and cocoa crumbles and garnished with a bright yellow edible pansy. A coil of chocolate cookie added a nice touch to the dish while making it more interesting in the presentation. I loved it.
I was in the mood for an after dinner drink, and with 400 tequilas in la biblioteca, I asked about the two beautiful ceramic decanters, one white with blue filigree, the other black with gold, on the top shelf of the bar. Ferenc brought the list of tequilas and indicated those I was interested in and then recommended a third, pointing it out on the same shelf. After his explanation I chose the dark one, they were both Clase Azul tequilas, but the one I chose was Ultra Anejo (very old) and was described as ‘grassy’ with a hint of pineapple. I could smell the grassy aroma in the nose and taste the pineapple with each sip. Fabulous! Ferenc was pleased and commented on my being his favorite customer. He told me what I was already thinking, I must come back to Zengo.
Rogue One: A Star Wars Story By Steve Herte
Rogue One: A Star Wars Story(Lucasfilm/Disney, 2016) – Director: Gareth Edwards. Writers: Chris Weitz, Tony Gilroy (s/p). John Knoll, Gary Whitta (story). George Lucas (characters). Stars: Felicity Jones, Diego Luna, Alan Tudyk, Donnie Yen, Wen Jiang, Ben Mendelsohn, Guy Henry, Forest Whittaker, Riz Ahmed, Mads Mikkelsen, Jimmy Smits, Valene Kane, Anthony Daniels, Jimmy Vee, Alastair Petrie, Genevieve O’Reilly, Ben Daniels, Dolly Gadsdon, Beau Gadsdon, & Paul Kasey. Color, Rated PG-13, 133 minutes.
Back in 1977, I became a Star Wars fan. I collected the action figures as they were available and I read “Bantha Tracks,” the fan club newsletter. Six movies later I began to become jaded. What new creatures, what new effects, what new anything could Star Wars impress me with? I tried not to have any preconceptions of this film but the trailers only promised more of what I’d already seen, and, for the most part, that was true.
Similar to Episode 4, A New Hope, this movie starts with a strangely barren planet, not a desert planet like Tattooine, but remote and unpeopled. An Imperial ship skims the horizon of Lah’Mu and heads for a farm (yes, the only green spot on the world – don’t ask me why) run by Galen Erso (Mikkelsen) and his wife Lyra (Kane) and tended by their daughter, Jyn Erso (Dolly & Beau Gadsdon). Orson Krennic (Mendelsohn) and a few robotic Stormtroopers debark and command Galen to come with them and build the future planet-exterminating Death Star. Galen knew they would come and had instructed Jyn on where to hide and how to escape. Lyra is not so lucky. She’s killed by a blast from one of the robots. Rather than cause any more trouble, Galen goes.
Jyn (now Felicity Jones) essentially spends the remainder of the first hour of the movie either captured in a cell or on the run until she becomes a part of an unlikely team with Cassian Andor (Luna), a rebel who feels Galen betrayed the cause; K-2SO (Tudyk), a seven-foot-tall Imperial droid who has been reprogrammed by the resistance; Chirrut Îmwe (Yen), a blind believer in The Force; and his best friend Baze Malbus (Jiang). They seek out Bodhi Rook (Ahmed), a pilot who has a secret message from Galen. But Bodhi has been captured by Saw Gerrera (Whitaker), a tough, but aging leader of the resistance, and is now on planet Jedha. The holographic communique tells of a flaw intentionally built into the design of the Death Star which, when neutralized, will destroy the entire weapon.
Unfortunately the Death Star needs a testing and the target is Jedha City, the capital of the planet of the same name and the message source is destroyed along with everything and almost everyone on that side of the planet. Jyn and her crew escape and must convince the Rebel Council on Yavin 4 of the need to attack the Imperial stronghold on the planet Scarif to steal the Death Star blueprints and gain the advantage for the Rebel Alliance. The council doesn’t believe her and thinks it’s too risky. She and her “team” steal an Imperial cargo shuttle that soon becomes known as “Rogue One.”
Are you still with me? I know. I nearly fell asleep in the first hour. But I stuck it out. Granted there were no new special effects and only one new creature who looked like a giant fake octopus, but there were surprises in the cast. Peter Cushing was remarkably replaced as Grand Moff Tarkin by Guy Henry. I had to look twice. And it was good to see Jimmy Smits reprising his role as Bail Organa, Princess Leia’s father. The head of the Rebel Council, Mon Mothma, was again ably and regally played by Genevieve O’Reilly and we got to see cameos of C-3PO (Daniels) and R2-D2 (Vee). The part of Darth Vader took three actors this time, Spencer Wilding and Daniel Naprous for the character and, of course James Earl Jones for the voice. But the biggest surprise was Ingvild Deila as Princess Leia. I was convinced it was Carrie Fisher.
The musical soundtrack, which will almost certainly be nominated for an Oscar, had me convinced that John Williams was still at the helm. But it was Michael Giacchino. Still, the same glorious and powerful orchestrations (without, mind you, repeating the Star Wars Theme).
At two hours and 14 minutes, the film could have been shortened and the story would be intact, especially the sleepy first hour. It’s not until halfway through the second hour that the title comes in. The best scene is the climax of the battle over Scarif when Admiral Raddus (Kasey) of the Mon Calamari (yes, they are evolved from squids) sends a Hammerhead ship against a disabled Imperial Battle cruiser. Other than that, everything is familiar to fans.
The good part of Rogue One is that it neatly ties Episode 3 Revenge of the Sith to Episode 4 A New Hope. In fact, if you didn’t get the idea, the word “hope” is the most used word in the dialogue. It was an interesting film and I’m glad I waited for the crowds to thin. But I’m looking forward to Episode 8.
2017 is the year Delmonico’s celebrates 180 years of serving fine steaks with Italian flare. When you talk of chicken a la king, lobster Newburg, eggs Benedict, Delmonico steak or baked Alaska, this is the source you’re referring to.
When my lovely lady arrived, she ordered a Kir Royale. We toasted the New Year and friendship, and explored the menu together. Frane listed the specials and we both agreed on the New England seafood chowder. It was not white like New England clam chowder but had a tangerine tint to it and was full of vegetables and tender fish. I gathered that the color might have been from paprika. We both enjoyed it.
Next, we split an order of living greens salad (leaf lettuce in a tangy, creamy dressing). The sliced radishes and red onions added a holiday touch to the various greens, all crisp and fresh. At this point my lady switched to a glass of Pinot Grigio and I had a glass of chardonnay. Another server brought a silver basket of hot, fresh-baked rolls and a silver ramekin of butter.
I’m always surprised when I hear that someone has never tasted lobster. When she expressed an interest, I suggested lobster Newburg served with broccoli rabe and fingerling potatoes. After a brief lesson in how to extract the meat (the shells were all pre-cracked and ready to eat), I think she loved it. She didn’t even offer me a taste.
I ordered the filet mignon with bleu cheese topping and a side of bacon fried rice with a glass of cabernet sauvignon. Every time I dine at Delmonico’s the food improves and this steak was perfection: almost two inches high, perfectly seared on the outside and beautifully rare and juicy on the inside. The side dish was not as bacon-y as I might have expected, but it was still moist and delicious with bits of fried egg and shredded carrots.
Again, I heard “I’ve never had…” and the classic baked Alaska – walnut cake, apricot jam, banana gelato, and meringue created by Charles Ranhofer in 1867 – was ordered. The meringue puffs were artfully singed and the apricot jam was formed like planets orbiting a white sun on the plate. I chose the chocolate raspberry fondant – dark chocolate ganache and raspberry ice cream. The alternating sweet and sour made it an exciting dessert.
We both had tea after dessert, she a peppermint and myself Earl Grey. We weren't overly full nor hungry. Just happy. Delmonico’s proved itself once again as a great way to ring out the old year.
Passengers By Steve Herte
Passengers(Columbia, 2016) – Director: Morten Tyldum. Writer: Jon Spalhts. Stars: Jennifer Lawrence, Chris Pratt, Michael Sheen, Lawrence Fishburne, Andy Garcia, Vince Foster, Kara Flowers, Conor Brophy, Julee Cerda, Aurora Perrineau, Lauren Farmer, Emerald Mayne, Kristin Brock, Tom Ferrari, & Quansae Rutledge. Color & 3D, Rated PG-13, 116 minutes.
The Starship Avalon, owned by the Homestead Corporation, is on its 120-year course for the Homestead Colony – an Earth-like planet on the other side of the galaxy – with 5,259 people in stasis pods. The ship looks remarkably like a piece of the double helix of DNA attached to a hypodermic needle that emits a force field umbrella from its tip. This is not its maiden voyage. It’s been there and back before. And yet, in the vast emptiness of space, this time it encounters an asteroid field and the audience sees one particularly large rock heading straight for the ship.
We hear the computer send out a warning of “Imminent Collision” in red letters, but no one is awake to act on it. Apparently, evasive maneuvers were not programmed into it. The rock hits the force field and breaks up, the Avalon is shaken and various computer screens light up red. One by one they turn green as the computer makes repairs, all except one.
Jim Preston (Pratt), a skilled mechanic, is awakened from his 120-year sleep with 90 years left for the journey. There is no way to repair his pod, and even if there were, it is not equipped to put him back into stasis. A 3D hologram of a stewardess directs him about as if the ship were arriving at its destination. He’s baffled and after a year of reading manuals and trying to get onto the bridge of the Avalon and failing, he decides to upgrade his meager cabin to first class by forcing his way in. All about him, things flicker on and off and cleaner robots malfunction one by one. His only company is Arthur (Sheen), an android bartender, who is human enough from the waist up.
Jim falls in love with Aurora Lane (Lawrence), a writer, still safely in her stasis pod. He wrestles with his conscience and discusses it with Arthur, but decides to read another manual, short out her pod, and awaken her. After swearing Arthur to secrecy about his tinkering, he courts Aurora and they become a loving couple, even to the point of doing the nasty on the breakfast table. Things are still misfiring and malfunctioning around them, but they’re having a high old time anyway. Until Arthur malfunctions and reveals Jim’s secret to Aurora. Now she hates him for “taking her life away.”
It’s not until the breakfast machine spews gallons of wet cereal on Aurora and she nearly drowns in the pool when the gravity suddenly switches off that she realizes that she and Jim need each other. And then another pod malfunctions and Gus Mancuso (Fishburne), a part of the crew is awakened. Now they have access to the bridge, but all systems look OK from there. Gus however, is not OK. He’s coughing up blood. A short session in the AutoDoc machine and they learn that he has hours left to live. It’s Laurence Fishburne’s shortest time on screen, almost a cameo. But before he dies he tells them, “Search the ship. Look for something broken, something big.”
The audience cannot help but laugh, knowing the immense size of the Avalon. The Grand Concourse alone looks like Foxwoods’ shopping area if it was designed by the crew of Lost in Space. If it weren’t so comical, Passengers might have been a romantic space love story. But the love scenes are clumsy.
Forget the science accuracy. Gus’ opening line is “Who the hell planted a tree on my ship?” Jim somehow opened a hole in the floor of the Grand Concourse and planted a small, obviously artificial, oak tree to impress Aurora. (You can see the wires in the leaves as she admires it.) The zero gravity pool scene has a major problem. Most of the water in the pool forms a huge globule, as water would do in zero gravity, but another part of the pool water forms a breaker wave that slaps Aurora down when she swims to the surface. Not possible.
Come Oscar time, Passengers will probably be nominated for set design (they are fabulous) and perhaps for costume design (Jennifer’s bathing suit is a point for that), but very little else. My favorite quote was from Arthur, “I was laughing at the man not wearing pants, then I realized, I have no legs.” And speaking of cameo appearances, we only see Captain Norris (Garcia) briefly at the end. The film is entertaining and almost believable in parts, but too close to comedy to be taken seriously.
French and Japanese cuisines have been melting together for a while now, using ingredients from one and presentations from the other, but this is the first time I’ve found a restaurant where the name is both French and Japanese.
Surprisingly, at 7:00 pm on a Friday, this restaurant had only two of its 12 tables occupied. Walking around the block before entering I noticed many other Japanese-style places on the same block doing lively businesses, and it made me wonder. My smiling and highly informative server, Kazuya, explained that the restaurant has only been open for a little less than a year, and their first Kyo-Ya was already well known. Hence, the Autre, which means “other” in French. He loosely translated Kyo-Ya as a place for people, music and enjoyment.
Asked if I wanted a drink, I remembered our location was on Stuyvesant Street and chose the Stuyvesant Cocktail: Laphroaig 10-year single malt scotch, fernet branca (a type of amaro, a bitter tasting Italian spirit), and yukari powder (dried and pulverized red shiso flakes, an herb in the mint family) and garnished with a large shiso leaf. It was an interesting flavor, as I’ve never had Laphroaig mixed with anything else. However, the resulting taste was smoky, slightly bitter, but pleasant.
Kazuya walked me through the menu and helped me select three courses and a side dish. When he returned I selected the 2013 Vinium Cellars Chenin Blanc from Clarksburg, California. It was another impressive wine from a screw-top bottle. The crispness of this white wine went well with all my courses.
My first course was a signature dish for Kyo-Ya: sea urchin consommé gelée – onsen style (slow-cooked at low temperature) egg, citrus aroma, and parsnip purée. The sea urchin flesh was on the surface of the parsnip purée in five points, topped with edible flowers. Below the creamy parsnip was the gelled urchin. I’ve had sea urchin before and I love the sweet-briny flavor of them.
Next, the house smoked octopus – sliced charcoal grilled octopus, celery root puree, and smoked soy sauce. It was beautifully white and pink with bright green pea pods on top and beyond tender and moist. The sauce formed a foam around the pieces of octopus, increasing the attractiveness of the dish.
I originally wanted the branzino, but Kazuya told me it was a dish for two people, a whole fish. I selected the roasted Australian lamb instead, with basil chili, fingerling potatoes, seared nasu eggplant (a long, narrow Japanese variety) and halved Brussels sprouts. The lamb was perfectly cooked to my specifications, juicy, tender, and medium rare. The eggplant was a novel flavor – a little spicier than more common eggplant. The basil chili added an unexpected zip to the meal. The side dish, roasted beets with yoghurt and pistachio, was a cooling effect after the chili.
My dessert was quintessential Japanese: the Azuki Yokan: a little, flourless red-bean jelly cake topped with gold leaf and swirled round by a sweet green tea sauce. This was a light finish to a diverse dinner. Normally, I would have tea after a Japanese meal but this time I asked Kazuya for his favorite sake. He pointed it out on the impressive list and I ordered it. I could taste the plums in this wonderful sake. I thanked Kazuya for widening my knowledge of sake and his meticulous help throughout my dinner.
Collateral Beauty By Steve Herte
Collateral Beauty(WB, 2016) – Director: David Frankel. Writer: Allan Loeb. Stars: Will Smith, Edward Norton, Kate Winslet, Michael Peña, Helen Mirren, Naomie Harris, Keira Knightley, Jacob Latimore, Ann Dowd, Liza Colón-Zayas, Natalie Gold, Kylie Rogers, Shirley Rumierk, Alyssa Cheatham, & Benjamin Snyder. Color, Rated PG-13, 97 minutes.
“Children don’t come from you, they go through you.” “You don’t need her permission to be her father.” “You’re losing someone? Don’t forget to notice the collateral beauty.”
This multi-moralistic movie starts slow and plodding with Howard Inlet (Smith) being introduced at a corporate meeting by his best friend and partner, Whit Yardsham (Norton). He asks the assemblage what their “why” is. Why did they come to the meeting (aside from being fired if they didn’t)? Then he goes on to discuss the three constants: love, time and death. Yeah, yeah, and so on and so on. A good corporate speech.
Then, as the plot progresses, we learn that he lost his six-year-old daughter to a rare form of brain cancer. Howard clams up, discontinues his charismatic leadership and spends all of his office time setting up elaborate strings of multicolored dominoes and knocking them down. He’s completely withdrawn and the company is floundering, about to lose a mega-million-dollar contract. Whit and Howard’s two closest compatriots, Claire Wilson (Winslet) and Simon Scott (Peῆa), are at a loss as to how to get Howard back on track. A private investigator, Sally Price (Dowd) reveals he’s now writing letters to the Universe, addressed to his constants, love, time and death.
At an audition campaign, Whit meets a young actress, Aimee Moore (Knightly) who impresses him with her reversal of a tag line to “Shed your skin and find your life.” He follows her to a small repertory theater where she and her two fellow actors, Brigitte (Mirren) and Raffi (Latimore), are rehearsing a play. An idea is born. Whit, Claire and Simon contract the three actors to play parts in the most outrageous intervention of all time. They are to represent the personifications of the three constants and answer Howard’s letters. Brigitte will play death, Raffi time, and Aimee love. The scam is carefully worked out to appear as if nobody can see them if they don’t want to be seen and they are digitally removed from the video taken by the private investigator. All it will cost them is $20,000 apiece.
As the plan is set in motion, the film picks up the tempo as one by one, the actors interact with Howard, while at the same time becoming closer with their respective “coaches” – Brigitte with Scott, Aimee with Whit and Raffi with Claire. A double bonus is achieved as Howard’s problem is being solved for each. Whit’s daughter blames him for his divorce with her mom, Simon hasn’t told his family that his cancer has reappeared and is fatal, and Claire has always wanted children but never succeeded.
Aside from the slow start, Collateral Beauty is an excellent film. Will Smith will make you cry as he struggles with his internal fears. Helen Mirren is fabulous as the consummate actor playing a consummate actor. And the twist at the end involving the leader of an encounter group for people who have lost someone to death, Madeleine is played tenderly and capably by Naomie Harris. I enjoyed Collateral Beauty despite the fact that the trailers led me to believe that death, time and love actually visited Howard. It would have been more spiritual, but wouldn’t have worked out in the long run. This movie is a must see.
Jue Lan Club bills themselves as serving “Chinese food for people who do not like Chinese food.” That would be a turn-off for me if I had seen it before dining there.
Pronounced “U” Lan, the restaurant name means “determination to create change” and hails back to a club founded by avant-garde artists in the early 1930s in Paris. The entrance is a lit, white enclosed awning leading to twin red doors. Inside it’s dimly lit; votive candles flicker on all the bare wood tables and the semi-circular, green velvet banquettes surround the tables conspiratorially. There are several rooms and I was led to the first table in one of them. The brick wall on one side featured three stained glass windows and the wall to my back was papered with a burnished gold Asian design.
I found the food menu and the wine list already on the table and as I perused both I asked my server, Geo, if there was a separate cocktail list. There was. I told him I was in the mood for adventure and asked for the most unusual drink. He suggested the Lady Dragon cocktail – Grey Goose vodka, fresh lemon juice, and rosemary-infused agave. The main flavor was lemon but in the background were the rosemary and the slight sting of the vodka. A good drink.
While I was thus engaged with the menus another server brought an amuse-bouche, a crisp little bishop’s cap filled with crab meat in an orange sauce. Very nice. Geo asked if I had decided on an appetizer and I gave him the two first courses to put in.
I ordered my entrée and wine. They were out of the one I ordered, but Geo brought me a 2013 Albert Boxler “Reserve” Pinot Blanc from Alsace. A lovely wine with the crispness I wanted, it was chilled perfectly and had a slight acid tang with a beautiful golden color.
It went perfectly with the short rib Bao buns wrapped around chunks of short rib with jalapeno, pickled cucumber and shredded carrots. The second course, crab and pork soup dumplings with beef broth, arrived almost simultaneously with the buns, but they were in a bamboo steamer and would stay hot longer than the exposed Baos. I finished the Bao buns first as they were rapidly getting cold. I love the texture of Chinese buns, a spongy, almost bread-like quality. The jalapeno was just there for an accent and did not mar the savory short rib flavor.
The soup dumplings did indeed remain hot in their steamer and weren’t there too long before I started eating them. They came with a soy dipping sauce, but didn’t need it. The crab and pork ground together made a good, tasty combination. But where was the beef broth?
I chose the main course for its description. The green prawns with Chinese water spinach, chili, red peppers and cashews did, remarkably, have bright green prawns. How did they get them that vivid color? They were tender with a slight crunch and a spicy aftertaste, which the wine accentuated magically. The entire dish was a marvel and changed my mind about prawns. I had always thought of them as an “Eh!” seafood, not too special. These were special. It was served with a bowl of sticky white rice, just as one would expect in a regular Chinese restaurant.
You will never find a dessert called infamous chocolate mousse – dark chocolate, mirror glaze, red berry compote, flourless sponge and green tea gelato – on any menu in Chinatown, much less anything chocolate at all. But this was a lovely dessert, simple, yet decadent and just the right size. If anything, it was more French than Chinese. The Earl Grey tea I ordered to go with it clinched the non-Chinese atmosphere. Then it hit me. None of the servers were Asian and neither were the patrons. I guess the motto got around. I’m almost glad I didn’t order the Peking duck. Still, Jue Lan Club is a charming bistro with comfortable seating, romantic lighting and good food and wine. It just isn’t Chinese.
Jackie By Steve Herte
Jackie(Fox Searchlight Pictures, 2016) – Director: Pablo Larrain. Writer: Noah Oppenheim. Stars. Natalie Portman, Peter Sarsgaard, Greta Gerwig, Billy Crudup, John Hurt, Richard E. Grant, Caspar Phillipson, Beth Grant, John Carroll Lynch, Max Casella, Sara Verhagen, Helene Kuhn, Deborah Findlay, Corey Johnson, and Aidan O’Hare. Color, Rated R, 99 minutes.
“Every First Lady must be ready to pack her bags.”
It’s 1963 in Hyannis Port, Massachusetts. Jacqueline Kennedy (Portman) is being interviewed by an unnamed journalist (Crudup) on the porch of the Kennedy home. He’s trying to write an article of her version of life in the White House up to and just after the assassination of John F. Kennedy (Phillipson). She is cautious about what should be printed and what shouldn’t. As she lights up one cigarette after another, she tells him, “I don’t smoke.”
“The White House was never my home, any more than this place is,” referring to the mansion where they sit. She describes how nervous she was before conducting her “Tour of the White House” broadcast on Valentine’s Day in 1962. Flashbacks in grainy black and white to simulate television quality back then add verisimilitude to Portman’s portrayal.
Over the course of the interview several topics arise, such as Pablo Casals performance at the White House, the cost of restoring the Lincoln Bedroom to its former grandeur, and of course, the gruesome assassination itself, done twice in graphic, gory detail. Jackie describes how protective Bobby Kennedy (Sarsgaard) was, even to the point of not informing her when Lee Harvey Oswald was shot and how angry she felt with him at the time. We see an intimate scene on Air Force One in the intense Dallas heat as Lyndon B. Johnson (Lynch) insists on being sworn in as president before leaving the plane (or even turning on the air-conditioning). We hear Lady Bird Johnson (Grant) cattily suggest that Jackie change out of her blood-stained pink suit before debarking into the public view.
“I want them to see what they have done...” is Jackie’s rejoinder. Of course, what the public didn’t see was her agonized washing of the gore from her face, which Portman made to look torturous.
The two people who could actually be called Jackie’s friends were her social secretary Nancy Tuckerman (Gerwig), a lifelong confidante, and, later on, her priest (Hurt), who helped her understand the tragic turn of events.
Among her non-friends, the part of Jack Valenti (Casella), LBJ’s right-hand man and planner for the motorcade route through Dallas, was slyly played. John Carroll Lynch was a foreboding and scary presence as the politically devious Johnson. I was actually surprised that he sat down when Bobby shouted at him to do so.
But above all, it was Natalie Portman’s acting that made this film. Though prettier than Jacqueline Bouvier, if you close your eyes, she took great pains to get her voice right. Her walk and poise were undoubtedly Jackie. Some may say her portrayal was a caricature and an insult to her legacy, but that is not true. Jackie Kennedy was put on a pedestal by Americans who wanted a royal family in the White House. The problem with that is, the higher the pedestal, the longer the fall from it. Here we see a human Jackie Kennedy, one who knew what she wanted, knew the consequences of wrong actions, and only pursued the positive in her husband’s legacy in the public eye. She was aware of John’s actions when away from her. “Jack would go into the desert to be tempted by the devil, but he always came home.”
She noted that “Camelot” was a favorite song of John’s and that the myth grew from there, but as all Broadway show-goers know, Camelot had its own internal problems and was not a utopia. As a whole, the film moved well and was interesting. The old-time television effect was well done if you were there to have actually seen it. My only complaint was with the musical soundtrack. The creepy glissandos up and down made it sound more like a science fiction movie than a biopic. It could be nominated for best film, but for sure, we’re going to see a best actress nomination.
According to Aztec mythology, the god Quetzalcoatl, the feathered serpent, transformed into the Black Ant (La Hormiga Negra) and found corn and seeds for his people, thus instituting agriculture and feeding them.
This two-year-old modern Mexican restaurant is presided over by master mixologist Jorge Guzmán from the Dominican Republic and Chef Mario Hernandez hailing from Cuernavaca, Mexico. Together, they create innovative potions and daring dishes in a friendly restaurant almost as dim as an ant’s burrow.
The adventure of my first time actually eating insects was integral in my decision to dine at The Black Ant, but, to tell you the truth, I did not notice anything radically different in any of the dishes.
I ordered the Climbing Ant (why not?) a tall glass of Alacrán Reposado Tequila, aperol, melon, agave, lemon, mole bitters and sal de gusáno (worm salt, made from ground up tequila worms – more accurately, larvae) lining the glass rim, garnished with a bouquet of mint leaves. For those who are curious, there was no flavor other than smoky salt to the rim encrustation. The drink could have been one of many tequila-based cocktails, heady and fruity.
Abarca, my server, helped me select my courses. I chose two from the para las hormigas (for the ants, or small plates) section and one from the main course section. As there were only three red wines on the list, I chose one I never had, The 2014 Salento Susumaniello (a breed of grape) red wine, from Brindisi, Italy. It was remarkable. The deep red (almost purple) color, together with an edgy, fruity nose promised something special, and the smoky, smooth flavor with light tannins told me this was going to be amazing. When paired with my dishes, it stayed in the background with the sweeter foods and added an intriguing edge to the spicier ones.
My first course was a ceviche (marinated raw fish) of Kampachi (Hawaiian yellowtail), cantaloupe-habanero gazpacho, cacahuachintle (a corn like hominy), and ant powder (yes, made from ground-up ants – again, not noticeable). The main flavor was from the sweet and slightly tart cantaloupe sauce. The fish was sliced neatly and tender and the dish was garnished with cherry tomatoes, sliced cucumber, mini squash and cress.
My next dish, the croquettas de chapulín (grasshoppers), were yucca-manchego croquets rolled into balls and deep fried, then anchored to a square of black slate by a green chapulín salsa, sided with a ramekin of huitlachoche (a fungus that forms on corn, called a smut) sauce and garnished with fried grasshoppers. Not the big locust variety, these were more like large crickets. In fact, I didn’t even notice them; it could have been the lighting. They were bite-sized. I took one onto my fork, dipped it in the sauce and popped it whole into my mouth. I could taste the cheese and the earthy yucca, a spicy tartness from the salsa, and the wonderful truffle-like earthiness from the huitlacoche. Only a crunch identified the garnish.
On Abarca’s recommendation, I kept the remaining huitlacoche sauce for my main course. The buῆuelos de pato – crispy duck dumplings with fried plantains and topped with Oaxacan mole negro (a chocolate/jalapeno sauce) and queso fresco (fresh cheese) – was delightful. The sauce was poured over the dumplings after the dish was served and the cheese was crumbled over that. The dumplings never lost their crispiness and the duck was juicy and tender.
I almost forgot my side dish, the cactus fries, long, thin deep-fried fingers of cactus, breaded with more sal de gausano and chilpaya (chili pepper). Cactus does not have much of a flavor on its own (it’s a fleshy vegetable texture and a slight crunch), but the other ingredients make the dish stand out.
Choosing a dessert after that was not easy. The gansito – tortilla crust, frozen strawberry mousse, marshmallow and strawberries – had all the ingredients I love. But then I looked at the ice creams and sorbets. I could select one scoop or three and I chose three. The sweet corn ice cream was just that, a truly different flavor for dessert, The jalapeno-cucumber sorbet had a little spicy kick, but at the same time it had the coolness of cucumber. The prickled (I think they meant prickly) pear sorbet was a beautiful deep rose color and had the sweet/tart flavor of the cactus it was made from.
Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them By Steve Herte
Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them(WB, 2016) – Director: David Yates. Writer: J.K. Rowling. Stars: Eddie Redmayne, Sam Redford, Johnny Depp, Scott Goldman, Tom Bentnick, Tom Clarke Hill, Tristan Tait, Colin Ferrell, Matthew Sim, Katherine Waterston, Samantha Morton, Dan Fogler, Ezra Miller, Carmen Ejogo, Faith Wood-Blagrove, Zoe Kravitz, Ron Perlman, Jenn Murray, & Cory Peterson. Color, Rated PG-13, 133 minutes.
“How do you catch a beast you cannot see?” “With great difficulty.”
Indeed, trying to catch a “demiguise” when it’s invisible can be challenging but not for Newton Artemis Fido “Newt” Scamander (Redmayne), a magizoologist who is collecting and cataloging rare magical creatures and keeping them in his suitcase. (When visible, a demiguise looks like a blue-furred sloth with big, sad eyes.)
It is 1926 in New York City, 70 years before Harry Potter even got started, according to writer J.K. Rowling. Newt arrives by boat searching for a much rarer creature, a “Niffler" – in appearance, a short-tailed platypus – which has eyes for gold and sparkling things and a pouch to store them in. What he doesn’t know is that an “obscuros" is also loose in the city and it has already destroyed one building and torn up a street.
Newt’s plans are upset when he meets Mr. Jacob Kowalski (Fogler) a man with a dream of opening a bakery and who has an identical suitcase, but his is full of sample baked goods. The suitcases are destined to be switched (and are). Mr. Kowalski becomes curious when one clasp mysteriously pops open and he lets out a few of the creatures within, one of which bites him.
The escape alerts an agent of MaCUSA (The Magical Congress of the United States of America) – an organization of wizards in a parallel universe inside New York’s Woolworth Building. Porpentina “Tina” Goldstein (Waterston) arrests Newt for breaking the laws of the organization. Unfortunately, her status in MaCUSA is tenuous at best and her arrest makes no impression on her superiors, Seraphina Picquery (Ejogo) and the sinister looking Mr. Percival Graves (Farrell). It is only with clever trickery that they get themselves and the suitcase back to her apartment.
Tina helps Newt find Mr. Kowalski and they bring him to her apartment where Newt can cure him of the beast bite. But Jacob falls instantly in love with Tina’s roommate, a vivacious red-head. After showing Jacob the world he has hidden in the suitcase and demonstrating that these fearsome creatures are really gentle when treated right, the three go in search of the escapees, one of which is an “Erumpent” – a huge rhinoceros-like creature that is in heat and is tearing up the local zoo looking for a mate.
MaCUSA has their own major problem, as witnessed by the opening credits. The evil Grindelwald (Depp) has escaped captivity and threatens to start a war between the wizards and the No-Maj world (people with no magic, or Muggles in the Potter universe). In addition, a No-Maj named Mary Lou Barebone (Morton) is preaching against witches from the town hall steps with her children Chastity (Murray), Credence (Miller), and Modesty (Wood-Blagrove) and whipping up support for her cause.
When presidential candidate Senator Langdon Shaw is killed by the rampaging obscuros, his father joins the movement against witches. This makes MaCUSA’s situation even direr.
Newt, Tina, Queenie and Jacob have to set things right before armed camps form and more deaths result. Their searches take them to meet the mysterious Lestrange (Kravitz) and the avaricious gnome Gnarlack (Perlman) at the Blind Pig Speakeasy. Gnarlack’s information costs Newt his timorous leafy green Bowtruckle – a creature who can pick locks.
Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them is a stunningly beautiful film with remarkable special effects and must be seen in 3D, which it uses to full capability. The animation is excellent, the soundtrack powerful and the script is eminently quotable. My favorite line is, “Worrying makes you suffer twice.”
The only weakness in the movie is the delivery of lines. Eddie Redmayne plays the self-effacing and modest collector well but mumbles several sentences incoherently. If I were director David Yates I’d be screaming, “What did you say?” over and over. Katherine Waterston has this problem too. Otherwise, the acting is splendid and the characters are believable. Especially, the police who line up and repeatedly shoot at something that has no body to speak of. The two hours and 13 minutes passed before I knew it. I would like to see a sequel to this film.
Did you ever wonder what happened to the iconic Metropolitan Life Building (the one pictured on all their stationary – with the golden pyramid on top) after the insurance company bought and moved into the former Pan Am Building? It’s now the Edition Hotel and houses an elegant restaurant called The Clock Tower.
An inducement for my choosing The Clock Tower was the menu. Billed as being British cuisine, the listings on the menu were anything but the expected fare in an English pub.
When I met Carla, my server, I had had just enough time to view the cocktail list. But I knew that there was no place else in the universe where I could get a perfect Beefeater martini if I couldn’t get one here and I was right. The menu had English ingredients in almost every dish but with a stylish twist. I could have had king crab legs as an appetizer, but I wanted to seek the extraordinary.
Like magic, the wine steward appeared and I told him what I had ordered and what qualities I wanted in a wine. He steered me to the red wines from Spain and I chose the 2009 CVNE Viῆa Real, Gran Reserva Rioja. I had specified an elegant, full-bodied red with deep fruits and this one definitely fit the description. It even brought out finer flavor in the first course.
I admit I’m not a fan of salmon. I like Nova Scotia lox and the occasional salmon sushi, but I never order a main course of salmon. But the London gin cured salmon with salt baked beets, fennel pollen, and horseradish ice was on another level of reality. The salmon was delicate and delicious and, when combined with the other ingredients, divine. When a taste of the rioja enhanced that, I was in disbelief.
Next was the “winter leaf salad,” with smoked figs, black walnuts, watermelon radishes and fresh honeycomb. It looked like a bigger portion than it was but that was only the excess of frisée. The figs were julienne cut and the walnuts were candied. The light dressing did not overpower the individual flavors and the occasional honeycomb was a tasty, sweet surprise each time.
The competition between the “Long Island duck” and the “pan-roasted striped bass” was tough but the Colorado lamb chops (medium rare) in a spiced pistachio crust, with mixed grains, caramelized yoghurt, and artichokes won my choice of main course. They were appetizingly crossed and leaning on the other ingredients, the perfect shade of pink, tender enough to cut with a fork and delicious.
My dessert was pistachio soufflé with a ball of chocolate ice cream served separately finished a truly delightful dining experience. I had my traditional double espresso but this time, I had a nice glass of green Chartreuse with it.
But it wasn’t yet over, for Carla brought out a tray of homemade cookies and candies. I haven’t been served like this in many years. I started wondering what it would be like to stay at this hotel and come down here for breakfast. Who knows? Maybe even this will happen.
Doctor Strange By Steve Herte
Doctor Strange (Marvel/Disney, 2016) – Director: Scott Derrickson. Writers: Stan Lee, Steve Ditko (comic book). Jon Spaihts, Scott Derrickson, C. Robert Cargill (s/p). Stars: Benedict Cumberbatch, Chiwetel Ejiofor, Rachel McAdams, Benedict Wong, Mads Mikkelson, Tilda Swinton, Michael Stuhlbarg, Benjamin Bratt, Scott Adkins, Zara Phythian, Alaa Safi, Katrina Durden, Topo Wresniwiro, Umit Ulgen & Linda Louise Duan. Color, Rated PG-13, 115 minutes.
I’ve been waiting for a long time for a movie to blow me away and this one did it in spades. The special effects alone are mind-boggling. I’ve never been on a drug trip, but I can imagine one now. Combine elements of a kung-fu film with an Escher masterpiece and sprinkle in a little Harry Potter, then put it all in a blender and splash it on the screen. It’s the first blockbuster to deserve the title this year. And to think the character Dr. Strange first made his appearance in 1963 in Marvel Comics when I was three years old.
Dr. Stephen Strange (Cumberbatch), who bears a striking resemblance to Vincent Price, is a consummate neurosurgeon and he knows it. His operations are just as much a stage show as a life and death situation. When fellow surgeon Dr. Nicodemus West (Stuhlbarg) fails to accomplish a procedure, Strange publicly embarrasses him in the operating theater. Strange is super-confident and full of himself. That is until he drives way too fast in his sports car in the rain, and has a horrific accident which leaves his hands virtually useless.
Girlfriend and fellow surgeon Christine Palmer (McAdams) loves Strange and has been patient with him up to this point. But she leaves him when he seems completely out of touch with reality. Strange learns of a paraplegic Jonathan Pangborn (Bratt) who was completely cured after all medical knowledge failed him and begs him to reveal how. (Strange refused to operate on Pangborn because the case wasn’t high profile enough.)
Pangborn eventually tells him, but with a warning, to seek out the Ancient One (Swinton) who lives in a hidden compound called Kamar-Taj in Kathmandu, Nepal. He spends the last of his savings to get there, pretty much insults the Ancient One by expecting her to be a man, and is thrown out after getting a small taste of her powers. (She temporarily separates his astral form from his body.)
Kamar-Taj has its own problems though. Master Kaecilius (Mikkelsen) has led a small rebellion against the Ancient One and has stolen pages from a book of spells which will open up a doorway to the Dark Dimension and allow Dormammu, a powerful evil into the world. Of course this means killing the librarian at Kamar-Taj. Here the movie almost echoes Star Wars.
After nine days of entreaty and desperate banging on the door to Kamar-Taj, Strange is allowed in again and is permitted to train with Karl Mordo (Ejiofor). His impatience and thirst for knowledge lead Strange to the library and the new librarian, Wong (Wong) tries to dissuade him from learning too fast without knowing the consequences of this knowledge. But when the Ancient One strands him on Mount Everest and he’s forced to use his training to create a “portal” to get back, he uses this power to swipe books from the library.
As a part of his training, Mordo informs Strange that each master has a special weapon, and it’s the weapon that chooses the master, not the other way around. When Kaecilius and his followers attack Kamar-Taj, a red cape floating in a display case chooses Strange – the Cape of Levitation. There’s some hints of Harry Potter here as well. We follow Strange in his mystical progress as he unwittingly becomes a kind of superhero who uses the Eye of Agamotto, a pendant containing an infinity stone to reverse time and fight off Kaecilius and his minions.
Dr. Strange is a visually stunning, sometimes dizzying movie with the forward motion of a runaway train down a mountain. Benedict Cumberbatch plays the best role I’ve seen him in and nails the part. He has the kind of look you want to trust but know you shouldn’t, but you like him anyway. Rachel McAdams is good at portraying the long-suffering, faithful lover who would still do anything for this self-involved genius. Tilda Swinton is a great choice for the Ancient One. She’s inscrutable, yet vulnerable, intensely focused, yet tempted to distraction around Strange. And Mads Mikkelsen is such a stereotypical villain, one expects him to say, “Nyah-ah-ah!” and twirl a long mustache.
Like Tony Stark, Dr. Strange has all the comic lines and sarcasm in the well-written script and some of them are really funny. When Mordo shows Strange his room, he hands him a card on which is written the word “Shambala.” “What is this? My mantra?” says Strange. “It’s the wifi password. We’re not savages,” answers Mordo. The Ancient One gives new meaning to “It’s not all about you.”
The only thing this movie is weak in is pathos, otherwise it’s excellent. The 3D effects work well without throwing something at the audience, the blood is kept to a minimum and there’s no vulgarity that I noticed. Children who can understand what’s going on will love it. I kept thinking how the last scene in 2001: A Space Odyssey would go from lame to “Wow” with today’s technology. And…there will be a sequel. Stay through the first set of credits at the end for proof. My question is, how can they top this film?
It’s been four years since Superstorm Sandy devastated downtown Manhattan, with South Street Seaport and Pier 17 beating the brunt of it. The rebuilding process has been long and laborious as well as costly. Some businesses never reopened.
But one month ago, The Tuck Room was established in the newly-renovated Fulton Market Building in South Street Seaport. It was from the east side of this building that the Fulton Fish Market operated until it was transferred to The Bronx. I remember that I could still smell fish when I crossed South Street at lunch time. The three restaurants that were in the market building are long gone, but the place is bustling once again.
I saw the restaurant name in art deco letters over the entrance a little to the right of the main doors to the market. Two escalators later I was at The Tuck Room. The interior featured one wall completely made from stacked books. An artist had painted a dance scene over some of the bindings representing two women dancing with three men who had animal heads; a bear, a horse and an elephant.
A bubbly blond server, Larissa, introduced herself and presented the menu book, bound in leather. She gave me a little time to look through it before asking if I wanted a drink. I exclaimed that it wouldn’t be right to pass up a drink with a name (and detailed description) of Empire State of Mind Manhattan – Hillrock Hudson Valley Estate 20-year Oloroso Sherry, Cask Finished Solera Bourbon, Balsam New York State Single Vineyard sweet vermouth, homemade maraschino cherries and Truffe Amere Winter Black Perigord truffle bitters. It was everything promised, not your usual sweet flavor, but a mature, rich slightly tangy quality.
While waiting for the first course I selected my wine – a 2013 “Baby Amarone” blend “Palazzo Della Torre” from Allegrini vineyards in Veneto, Italy. It’s comprised of 70% Corvina, 25% Rondinella and 5% Sangiovese grapes for an earthy, mild spice, all-purpose, delicious red table wine. The wine steward proudly brought it out for tasting and offered to decant it. I agreed. It was lovely.
The first dish to arrive was my appetizer. The six “Reuben Croquettes,” basically potato croquettes with crispy pastrami, Swiss cheese, sauerkraut, and a “Thousand Island” sauce provided an unusual twist to a fairly ordinary appetizer. I enjoyed them, very different.
I decided to test the restaurant for the next dish. I haven’t had a Caesar salad in a long time and the reason is that it’s never made right. The Tuck Room calls theirs the Classic Caesar with hearts of Romaine, garlic croutons, shaved parmesan, and Caesar dressing. It was almost perfect. The romaine was crisp and fresh, the cheese visible and sliced right, and the croutons fresh also, not hard as rocks. The best part, no anchovies in sight!
My main course was the Chinatown Duck – shredded with pickled vegetables in a hoisin-sesame glaze with scallions, garnished with watermelon radishes, sided with three ginger and carrot bao (Chinese buns) and served on a cutting board. It was almost like a deconstructed Peking duck and was as much fun to eat as to look at. The buns were exactly as the Chinese would make, soft and moist, the duck tender and savory and the pickled vegetables mixed with the tart/sweet hoisin sauce to create a circus of flavor.
The mixologist at the bar has a device called a Heizenberg that uses liquid nitrogen to cool the drinks and Larissa treated me to their “shot” with the main course. I tasted mild vodka and something like flat ginger ale. It was indeed very cool and it complimented the duck nicely, but I stayed with my lovely wine.
The three desserts on the menu all sounded too large; maybe next time. I was too interested in this Heizenberg thing. I ordered “the cocktail” as a dessert drink. It was strong, citrusy and refreshing and had a large slab of pineapple as a garnish. I definitely have to return, if for nothing else to explore the Market Building and possible movies.
Inferno By Steve Herte
Inferno(Columbia, 2016) – Director: Ron Howard. Writers: David Koepp (s/p), Dan Brown (novel). Stars: Tom Hanks, Felicity Jones, Irrfan Khan, Omar Sy, Sidse Babett Knudsen, Ben Foster, Ana Ularu, Ida Darvish, Paolo Antonio Simioni, Alessandro Grimaldi, Fausto, Maria Sciarappa, Gábor Urmai, Robin Mugnaini, Paul Ritter, Vincenzo Tanassi, & Alessandro Fabrizi. Color, Rated PG-13, 121 minutes.
If you’re looking for the Indiana Jones-style plot of TheDa Vinci Code (2006) and Angels & Demons (2009) in this third installation, get that out of your head right now. The cosmic nature of the first two films is lost in the down-to-earth terrorism of the third. It seems we can’t get enough of that today.
Robert Langdon (Hanks), a Cambridge professor and symbologist, awakes in a hospital in Florence, Italy, thinking he’s still in Boston. His beautiful doctor, Sienna Brooks (Jones) questions him like an FBI agent though it’s clear he has amnesia (even she admits that) and when assassin Vayentha (Ularu) arrives with guns blazing, she hustles him out of the hospital and into a cab with the efficiency of the Mission: Impossible team. The questions begin for the audience. What hospital door not only locks, but resists bullets from an automatic weapon?
Meanwhile, billionaire geneticist Bertrand Zobrist (Foster) is being chased by Christoph Bouchard (Sy) working for the World Health Organization to the top of a campanile (bell tower) of a church in the same town, from which he plummets to his death rather than be captured. It seems that Zobrist is obsessed by overpopulation and has engineered a plague that will kill off half of people on Earth (How in the world can he know that? It didn’t work that way in Stephen King’s The Stand.) and like all fictional sociopath geniuses, has given those who would stop him 24 hours to find it. With Zobrist out of the picture, Bouchard teams up with Elizabeth Sinskey (Knudsen), head of WHO and former love interest, to find Langdon, the only man who can read the clues and find the plague virus.
If that weren’t enough we have Harry Sims (Khan) who works for a mysterious company called “The Consortium,” Zobrist’s major competitor, and who “cleans up” messes (like dead bodies) leading a third team to find the poor, beset Langdon.
But Langdon doesn’t remember the last 24 hours and the memories are only coming back in several painful dribs and drabs. Sometimes they help and sometimes they make the mystery more confusing. The best part about it is that Langdon has learned nothing from the previous two movies. He should know not to trust anyone because no one is who they appear to be. But you know he’ll figure it out by the end of the movie.
The title refers to the name given the plague virus and it in turn was taken from Dante’s Inferno and his nine circles of Hell, depicted in a Botticelli painting. Langdon is in possession of a Faraday pointer which can project said painting on a wall. But the painting has been altered and the circles are in the wrong order. This gives him his first clue. It leads him and Dr. Brooks to the Uffizi Gallery to seek out the death mask of Dante. Marta Alvarez (Darvish), a pregnant curator familiar with both Langdon and the mask, leads them to the empty display case. The security tapes reveal that Langdon and his friend Ignazio Busoni (Urmai) are the ones who stole it. Now the Italian police are after him, along with the other three groups. This could be an old-time comedy with Charlie Chaplin with the right music.
Knowing that Tom Hanks has to stay alive until the end of the movie makes every getaway pedestrian and not that exciting, not even when the two are negotiating the ceiling rafters of the Uffizi. There is only one exciting scene and it’s at the climax of the movie during an orchestral concert in the cistern underneath the Hagia Sofia in Istanbul. Up until that point I was shifting regularly in my seat. At two hours and one minute, it needs cutting, but I could not say where. Maybe the scene in the rain where Tom Hanks almost looks like John Wayne. The strange camera angles were not only distracting but at times dizzying; from the bottom of a car door shooting up, the tail of a plane entering clouds, and the like.
From what I’ve read of other reviews, the story is a radical departure from the book as well. Hmm. Aside from the one scene, Hanks is the best part of this film and the only draw. He is superb, but his character is a bit of a disappointment. The rest of the cast was just along for the ride. But on the positive side, there were only two four-letter words in the entire movie and they were justified. The gore is kept to a minimum though the sound effects of stabbing are unnerving. The cinematography is excellent and it brought back pleasant memories of my times in Italy. I came out of the theater with one quote from Zobrist, “Our population is spiraling out of control. Inferno is the cure.” But did I believe it? No.
Who in the world would name a charming Greek restaurant “Death Avenue?” I thought they might have used the Greek word Thanatos, which is much more romantic than the stark English word “Death.” But I admit, being so close to Halloween, it drew me in.
The restaurant gets its name from a time in New York when railroad tracks ran down 10th Avenue and was dubbed “Death Avenue” due to the number of fatal accidents. It has been operating successfully for five years with beautifully paneled wooden doors opening to cream colored walls, heavy, ornately gilded mirrors, and faux Medieval chandeliers..
My hostess led me through a mini-labyrinth to a hidden room in back. Only five bare-topped, polished wood tables were in the room with simple wooden chairs and equally bare-topped banquettes. As soon as I was seated I met my server, Michael, and ordered a Black Ink Martini – Singani 63 (a Bolivian brandy), agave, lime juice, sweet vermouth and squid ink. I know it sounds a little disgusting. It was limey-flavored and strong. I liked it.
Michael, my waiter, was invaluable in selecting my dinner courses. When we had the dinner order set, we discussed wine, and he asked what kind of wine I liked. He suggested the 2013 “Staphylus” blend of Xinomavro and Cabernet Sauvignon from Chatzivariti vineyards, Goumenissa, Greece, a new wine on their list, and offered me a taste. It was exciting, a nose of fine wood in an old library and a taste of deep tannins with a leathery smooth overtone. It was the taste of antiquity. He explained that Staphylus means grapes in ancient Greek and the name also refers to a legend on the back label of the wine bottle.
Michael and I had decided that the appetizer and side dish should arrive first and soon I was presented with the eight-hour octopus – sushi grade Portuguese octopus slowly braised in an earth oven for eight hours and flash grilled. Its artfully posed tentacles rested on a bed of red and white beans, onions and spices and all was coated with parsley leaves.
The eight hours were well spent. The octopus was almost tender enough to cut with a fork. Octopus doesn’t taste like any fish. It’s closer to conch (that’s scungill to Italians) in flavor and texture and has the “dusty” consistency of chick peas.
The side dish was a new favorite of mine, fried pickles. Only this time, they were Greek style, served with tzatziki (a Greek yoghurt sauce), skordalia (mashed potatoes with lots of garlic) and barbeque sauce.
Michael warned me about how hot this dish was, but after the first pickle, they were finger food. In fact, mixing the tzatziki with the barbeque sauce made a delicious new flavor. The pickles were sliced and simply breaded and deep fried.
Next was the entree: lamb shank braised over a light tomato sauce with chopped vegetables and home-made Hilopite pasta (otherwise known as orzo). Michael sided it with an extra order of skordalia because I raved over it. As expected, the lamb shank fell of the bones with the touch of a fork and was rich, tender and had just enough fat to enhance the flavor. My only comment was that the orzo was over-done and not solid enough. Homemade pasta cooks very fast and disintegrates if over-cooked.
By now Michael was asking me if I was Greek. He said I look like one and eat like one (and can pronounce the names of the dishes) and that was enough for him. It was dessert time and Michael listed only two. I asked which was more Greek. That’s how I got the “spiced fig bread pudding” with a big ball of vanilla ice cream and chocolate syrup. Unfortunately, they did not make Greek coffee, and I settled for my usual double espresso. Michael was surprised that I ordered a glass of Ouzo neat. He commented that it was strong that way. I reminded him that it was the same thing he said about the martini and the wine and he told me the dessert, coffee and drink were on the house.
Michael and I were buddies now and he helped me negotiate the mini-maze to the rest room. I asked for a business card, we gave each other a bro-hug and I left feeling very content. Next time, I must try their tacos. I learned a history lesson and had a great meal at the same place.
Keeping Up With The Joneses By Steve Herte
Keeping Up With The Joneses(20th Century Fox, 2016) – Director: Greg Mottle. Writer: Michael LeSieur. Stars: Zach Galifianakis, Isla Fisher, Jon Hamm, Gal Gadot, Patton Oswald, Ming Zhao, Matt Walsh, Maribeth Monroe, Michael Liu, Kevin Dunn, Dayo Abanikanda, Henry Boston, Jack McQuaid, Ying He, & Yi Dong Hian. Color, Rated PG-13, 105 minutes.
Jeff Gaffney (Galifianakis) lives in a suburb of Atlanta, Georgia, and works as a personnel relations manager for MBI Company. He and his wife Karen (Fisher), a home decorator, live in a charming house on a cul-de-sac. The day-to-day life includes cleaning up after Dan Craverston’s (Walsh) twin bulldogs. Dan is a rocket scientist who also works at MBI. The Gaffneys have just waved goodbye to their two sons as they're bussed away to summer camp. Coming home, they meet Dan’s wife, Meg (Monroe), a real estate agent, who has just sold the last property in the neighborhood for all cash. Karen wonders who would buy a house without using credit or putting a down payment on it. Her curiosity keeps her by the window until the new occupants arrive.
Tim (Hamm) and Natalie Jones (Gadot) are not only the most attractive couple to move in, they’re absolutely perfect. They’re worldly, he speaks fluent Chinese, he can blow glass, she raises funds for orphaned children in Sri Lanka, speaks Israeli and cooks like a professional chef. Inviting them over for coffee, the Gaffneys receive an elaborate glass sculpture from the Joneses, which proves to have a bugging device inside – Jeff’s boss, Carl Pronger (Dunn) authenticates it. Karen is sure there’s something strange about the Joneses.
Knowing the Joneses would be out for the evening, Karen drags Jeff to their house, using the spare garage door opener to get in. All seems too perfect until they go upstairs and find the computer room with MBI company ID badges displayed on the monitors for all the technical employees and Jeff. Now she’s sure. But Jeff picks up a silver retractable pen and unwittingly shoots his wife with a sedative dart. Switching between carrying and dragging her, Jeff manages to get her out of the house just as the Joneses arrive home.
The fun continues when Karen’s suspicious sleuthing involves her and Jeff in a gun battle between Tim and Natalie and the henchmen of Scorpion (Oswalt), the real bad guys. Jeff’s and Karen’s ordinary, safe life changes forever. In the process, Jeff dines at a snake restaurant run by Yang (Liu), a good friend of Tim’s and Karen, and learns the meaning of provocative lingerie from Natalie.
The comedy in Keeping Up with the Joneses is sophisticated and subtle with a little slapstick thrown in for good measure. There are no laughfests, which is good. The sound effects crew supply exaggerated sounds that make the audience wince when Jeff hits Karen’s head on a door-jamb while trying to hurry her out of their neighbors’ house. Then there’s the ridiculous situation of Jeff’s well-dressed boss living out of his van after a divorce. Absurdity, and funny. Add to that, Scorpion’s girlfriend’s (Zhao) reaction when Jeff recognizes him and reveals his true name. Very smooth humor.
Zach Galifianakis plays the role of the insouciant believer in talking things out almost to the point of being annoying but it works. Isla Fisher is great as the nosy neighbor who never realizes that a professional spy would instantly catch her following wearing a lame disguise. I would be shocked if Jon Hamm was not or is not tapped to be the next James Bond. He would fit the role elegantly. And Gal Gadot is drop-dead gorgeous in everything she wears, no matter how little. I can’t wait for her sequel to Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice as Wonder Woman, now in post-production.
Keeping Up with the Joneses is a unique comedy with a great concept. I enjoyed it. It entertained me without using vulgarity, nudity or sex, just sly, clever, and sometimes subtle humor. My favorite quote (from Tim to Jeff), “You tried to jump through a triple-paned window without breaking it first?”
I have learned over the years that whenever I think I’ve seen or heard the strangest things, there’s always something stranger waiting around the corner. When I received my confirmation call (I thought) from Chimichurri Grill, imagine my surprise at being told that they do not accept reservations for solo diners! Gee, I just made one. This is the first time I’ve ever been instructed that I would have to sit at the bar for dinner. Then, if a table opened up (maybe), I could have it. I was ready to change reservations as the bar stools at this place are back-breaking, flat-seated, backless stools. The excuse I was given was that there is usually a Broadway show crowd occupying all the tables for two. Still having misgivings, I accepted the bar-to-table possibility even though I knew that logically anyone who had tickets would not be dining at 7:15 pm when I would be arriving.
Chimichurri Grill is not as brightly lit as several other restaurants in their neighborhood. In fact, one could miss it entirely. Its humble black awning with the name in white make it seem to take a step back from the sidewalk as compared to the garish lights of nearby, larger establishments.
One look inside and I could see unoccupied tables with two chairs among the total of 14. The small bar in front limits the number of tables near the window, but confirmed the uncomfortable stools. I met the man I spoke with on the phone when I announced my reservation. As he seated me at a table in the center of the one-room restaurant he repeated the “no solo diners” reservation policy. I advised him to inform Opentable.com soon to avoid future embarrassments.
Arthur Schwartz advised me long ago to do everything at a restaurant with a smile, especially when entering and it took some effort, but I accomplished that. I told Wilmer, my server, that I would like to start with “El Gibson” – Nolet’s Silver dry gin, Noily Prat dry vermouth and house-made pickled pearl onions. Served in an elegant martini glass, it was a good drink, but not as dry as the two ingredients promised. I would like to own pearls as big as the two onions skewered on the swizzle stick. They were almost golf ball size and delicious.
The wine list was also quite impressive, with at least 20 Malbecs listed on the first page. But I pressed on to see what else I could find, eventually choosing a 2013 Almancaya Gran Reserva “Lafite Rothschild” Malbec/Cabernet Sauvignon varietal. The two grapes worked well together (in equal parts) to create a rich, intense red wine, without being over-bearing or too dry.
The first dish to arrive was the Sopa Pescado“Patagonian” (seafood soup), made with clams, mussels onions, tomatoes and other vegetables. It was like eating an excellent gazpacho, but hot with just the right hints of spices. Though I don’t like clams in general, I had to rave about the ones in this soup. They were not rubbery or even excessively chewy with a pleasant flavor, not metallic. The mussels almost melted in the mouth.
Next came the appetizer, a “Trio of Chorizo” – Argentine pork, blood sausage and red Spanish spicy – served with red and green dipping sauces. All were excellent, especially the blood sausage: delicate, rich, earthy and savory.
My main course was the Ancho boneless ribeye steak topped with caramelized Vidalia onions. Served on a dark wood plate it was easily as good a steak as I’ve ever had. The side dish – Col Risada (sautéed kale in garlic and oil) was the best kale I’ve ever tasted, better than the best steakhouse spinach sides. Cooked to a little less than crispy and drenched in garlic, it still had that exciting “green” flavor of kale.
In my dining experiences, the dessert with the longest name is usually the simplest and best after a very filling meal. This proved true again. The Queso de Oveja Manchego y Membrillo, wedges of Manchego cheese with quince preserve and raspberry sauce, was as much a delight to the eyes as to the taste buds. I prefer guava paste to quince but this was really very good.
I saw the national drink of Argentina and ordered the Mate “Gaucho Macho.” I was a bit disappointed when it tasted like nothing but hot water – nothing “Macho” about it. I told Wilmer and he treated me to a glass of port wine, mumbling something about the mate not being the same as in Argentina. Mate is a tea drink, but no tea should be that wimpy.
I would really like to return to Chimichurri Grill, but will have to bring a dining companion the next time. I know just whom I would bring. I was surprised to learn later on that Chimichurri Grill has been in business for over 18 years and has a sister restaurant on the East Side. Except for the food and the wine, it seemed like their first year.
The Girl on the Train By Steve Herte
The Girl on the Train(Universal, 2016) – Director: Tate Taylor. Writers: Erin Cressida Wilson (s/p), Paula Hawkins (novel). Stars: Emily Blunt, Hayley Bennett, Rebecca Ferguson, Justin Theroux, Luke Evans, Edgar Ramirez, Laura Prepon, Allison Janney, Darren Goldstein, Lisa Kudrow, Cleta Elaine Ellington, Lana Young, Rachel Christopher, Fernando Medina, & Gregory Morley. Color, Rated R, 112 minutes.
Not to be confused with the 2009 movie of the same title, this one is based on the novel by Paula Hawkins, the book that “shocked the world.” Frankly, it didn’t shock me. Classified as a mystery/thriller, it was neither too mysterious nor thrilling. It starts and ends in the worst way, with bland, slightly bored sounding narration by the title character.
Rachel Watson (Blunt) and her husband Tom (Theroux) are trying to have a baby, and failing. Even in vitro fertilization doesn’t do the trick and they are running out of funds to cover the cost. To ease the pain, Rachel slips into a bottle and becomes an alcoholic while Tom fools around with the real estate agent. Rachel’s blackouts afford Tom ample opportunity to accuse her of violence for the time she can’t recall until even she believes it. An explosive scene at a dinner party thrown by Tom’s boss Martha (Kudrow) appears to clinch her manic outbursts.
They get divorced. Rachel moves out of their house in Ardsley, N.Y., (the book is set in England) and stays with a friend, Cathy (Prepon). Tom marries Anna (Ferguson), the real estate agent, and they have a daughter, Evie.
Having been fired from her job due to her alcoholism, Rachel uses her alimony to ride back and forth to New York City on the Metro-North railroad to keep the illusion of still having a job to Cathy. When she passes the Ardsley station she sees Scott and Megan Hipwell (Evans and Bennett), who live a couple of houses down from Tom. She fantasizes them as the perfect couple, the ones who have what she never got, until she sees Megan kissing her therapist, Dr. Kamal Abdic (Ramirez). Rachel is outraged.
Megan babysits for Tom and Anna, but quits when she becomes bored of it, and disappears. When Rachel involves herself in the quest for Megan, her repeated appearances at her old house label her as a stalker and a person of interest to Detective Riley (Janney). When Megan turns up dead, all fingers point to Rachel.
The Girl on the Train is a mediocre Hitchcock wannabe with all the earmarks and plot twists, but none of the gorgeous suspense the master would include. The trailers are more thrilling than the actual film. Even Danny Elfman’s excellent music does nothing to add to the mystery and shock the movie should generate.
The hour and 52 minutes creep by and could be shortened to an hour and a half by cutting several scenes where someone asks Rachel a question and she just sits there with a blank expression on her face. I guess Emily Blunt is trying to convey mental overload at probing her blackouts but it doesn’t come across that way.
The narration is uninteresting and fails to set up the movie for the audience. Justin Theroux, on the other hand, is the perfect cad. Haley Bennett plays the bored slut to the hilt and even I was not surprised that her character is murdered. I have no complaints about Luke Evans except that he got shorted on his part. And Edgar Ramirez had serious trouble keeping his Middle-Eastern accent.
If it weren’t for the many flashbacks, no one in the audience would have a clue as to what was going on. And then there are the “F” bombs whenever frustration arises, which are completely unnecessary. The most interesting parts for me were the two times Rachel returns to the Conservatory Gardens in the north part of Central Park and sits by the fountain sketching the nymphs and the final confrontation scene. All the rest was filler. I’ll stick with the book.
“Inspired by Dutch and English gin bars of the 1920s” says the website of this six-month-old hotel bar, displaying a picture of cream-colored walls, a fireplace with the ornate gilded mirror above it, and a brocaded wing chairs flanking an oval cocktail table against a backdrop of striped curtains.
I had to ask a hotel employee if what I saw when I entered the hotel was actually The Gin Parlour, as it simply looked like a large oval bar set up a few stairs from the sweeping main lobby, with no indication of a title.
There was no Captain’s Station. I walked past the bar and hoped that someone would see and seat me. Fortunately, I didn’t have to wait long. One of the servers seated me in a corner of the room facing the bar. The striped curtains were there but drawn back and inelegantly tied. I didn’t see a fireplace and there were no wing chairs. All illusion of charm was dashed, and the flat screen television playing sports on the far wall tossed the last of whatever atmosphere there was out the window.
So what was keeping me there? The fact that the website boasted 88 different gins in their stock. When I met Julio, my server, he corrected that total to 95 gins. In my dining experiences, I’ve only made the acquaintance of about a dozen of them. Julio presented me with the flip-style menu which included wines and cocktails, and, the gin list, which was most impressive. I almost wish there had been an entry listing a “flight” of gins to make comparisons. But I ordered my Beefeater martini and it was made perfectly.
In the food section of the menu there were categories of Bites, Shellfish, Small Plates, Greens & Entrées, Between the Bread (Burgers), and Desserts. I chose one “bite,” one “small plate” and an entrée, plus a Merlot from Long Island that seemed like a good choice to go with my meal. But I was informed they were out of the wine. So with Julio’s assistance I chose a lovely 2015 “Loca Linda” Malbec Mendoza Argentina. Usually Malbecs are too heavy for the dishes I chose but this one was lighter bodied, with full fruits and mild tannins and a beautiful red color.
Another server brought out the bread basket. The sourdough baguette was almost as difficult to tear as to chew. I switched to the seven-grain roll which was much more malleable and tasty.
The first dish was Alphabet City soft pretzels – truffle cheddar and garlic parsley soft pretzels with a Pork Slap beer (a New York brewery) mustard and cheese dip. It’s a weakness of mine, but I love pretzels and this was an adventure. The parsley was not intrusive in the flavor of the one pretzel and the cheddar did not overpower the other. The dip was just right.
Next was a dish I’ve seen nowhere else and just had to try it. The Broiled Oysters “Reuben” combined Gruyere, crumbled corned beef, Thousand Island dressing, and Barclay pickle relish with small West Coast oysters for a strange, but novel taste. I enjoyed it but would probably not order it again.
I’m basically a carnivore, so you know that when I order fish, the meat dishes were not crying out to me. The Montauk bass was served with chorizo, corn, local clams and summer squash in a beautiful piquant (lemons) golden sauce. The fish was delicate enough to cut with a fork and the combination with the Spanish sausage was remarkable. The two flavors worked together to create a savory whole. I doubt if the meat dishes could have compared.
Surprisingly, I did not order a side dish, because none were offered on the menu. Neither was one needed. The main course was quite complete. For dessert I ordered the “Chocolate Crunch” – dark chocolate mousse and pralines – which was almost too pretty to eat. It was like a large chocolate goose egg resting on a nest of pralines with silver and white pearls perched on top. The mousse was delicious, not the best I’ve had, but surely not the worst. A double espresso later and I was finished.
The Gin Parlour is not a bad place to dine. The food is good, at times unusual, the service is impeccable and friendly and I have to try some new gins when I return. They actually have a pink gin from Germany! Who knew? What I would like to have them recapture is the charm of the 1920s they tout on the website. But they’re young still. Hopefully, they’ll learn.
Middle School: The Worst Years of My Life By Steve Herte
Middle School: The Worst Years of My Life(CBS Films, 2016) – Director: Steve Carr. Writers: Chris Bowman, Hubbel Palmer & Kara Holden (s/p). James Patterson, Chris Tebbets (based on the book by). Stars: Griffin Gluck, Lauren Graham, Alexa Nisenson, Andrew Daly, Thomas Barbusca, Retta, Rob Riggle, Adam Pally, Luke Hardeman, Jessi Goei, Jacob Hopkins, Patrick Fagan, Isabella Moner, Isabella Amara, Madeleine Stack, & Efren Ramirez. Color, Rated PG, 92 minutes.
Variety’s review of this film included Francois Truffaut’s sagacious observation that adolescence leaves pleasant memories only for adults who cannot remember. I believe it. My schooling did not involve a Middle School per se but I do remember my experiences from sixth to eighth grades in my Elementary School. They weren’t the worst years of my life, but I wouldn’t want to repeat them.
This realistic fiction, based on the book by James Patterson and Chris Tebbets, reminisces Patterson’s time in Middle School. Hills Village Middle School represents the last chance for Rafe Katchadorian (Gluck), a sixthgrader who has been expelled from several other schools. His mother Jules (Graham) works double shifts at a diner and considers herself a sous-chef. She also worries about him a lot, realizing that not having his father around (the film was not clear on where or when he disappeared) has affected his social skills. That, plus the loss of his younger brother to cancer probably contributes to his antics.
His sister Georgia (Nisenson) argues with him, providing and gives additional unwanted motherly advice despite Jules’ requests to leave the mothering job to her. If this weren’t bad enough, Mom is dating a self-centered loser named Carl (Riggle) whose hairiness provides the children a few laughs. Rafe’s only friend is Leo the Silent (Barbusca), and he’s imaginary (though this fact is not immediately apparent in the movie). His passion is drawing caricatures. He keeps a sketchbook with him at all times containing various cartoon characters he’s created and their adventures, languages and travels. He’s put a great amount of time into developing it.
Rafe’s first encounter with the obsessive Principal Dwight (Daly) is at the front door of the school where he’s informed of his breaking the dress code – too many bright colors, no floral prints. How obsessive is Dwight with winning on the test scores? He has a tall number one topiary sculpture planted in front of the school to represent the school’s consistent ranking on the B.L.A.A.R.T. test. When he sees the student body lined up like convicts in a prison, Rafe realizes something’s really wrong with this school, especially when Vice Principal Ida Stricker (Retta) tells him in no uncertain terms to stop loitering in the halls. He also meets the class bully Miller the Killer (Hopkins), who sits behind him in homeroom, kicks his chair, threatens him and refuses to pronounce his name correctly. The only relief from this is in his homeroom teacher, Mr. Teller (Pally), who recognizes Rafe’s talent for drawing and is somewhat of a rebel himself.
At a student body meeting to elect a class president, Rafe develops his first crush on Jeanne Galetta (Moner). Her platform is more leeway for the students and less rules, and he’s the only one who applauds her as Principal Dwight hurries her away from the microphone. But when he’s caught sketching in the assembly, Dwight destroys his sketchbook in the dreaded “yellow bucket” filled with acid. This drives him and Leo to set in motion Operation R.A.F.E. (Rules Aren’t For Everyone) and to break every rule in the book he was handed by Principal Dwight on the first day. The pranks are some of the funniest moments in the movie and include papering the principal’s office and school halls with colorful Post-It notes, putting pink hair dye in Dwight’s fedora, filling a utility closet with multicolored balls, and injecting blue, red and yellow dye into the fire sprinkler system before setting it off.
Though a comedy, this movie has some sensitive, emotional scenes and at the same time makes a statement about pigeon-holing children with standardized tests. It addresses bullying and unfair practices as well as not allowing children to be children. It skirts the scary and potentially dangerous issue of the “acid bucket” with clever dialogue. Scenes seesaw from reality to the imaginative animations in Rafe’s sketchbook, which are as real to him as his family. The animated scene where Carl becomes Bear is hilarious.
Andy Daly’s over-the-top acting keeps his character from being a hateful villain and modulates it into a strict but silly obsessive. Alexa Nisenson is a convincing crier and a great little sister. Rob Riggles succeeds in creating the guy you’d love to hit with an anvil. Griffin Gluck plays the perfect straight man to the unpredictable Thomas Barbusca.
At only one hour and 32 minutes long, the film is well timed, has no dead spots and has great forward motion. I never shifted in my seat. If you’re a student, teacher or a principal you will not find any of it offensive, only entertaining, and you’ll probably breathe a sigh of relief knowing your school’s not like this one. I enjoyed it so much I never expected the final plot twist.
“An unparalleled dining experience!” So boasts the website of this two-year-old New York steakhouse with a Broadway-style entrance, ablaze in bluish-white neon.
Inside is a large space with dark walls, a chic bar on the left flanked by faux marble columns and tables with white tablecloths and little electric lamps with gold shades. As I confirmed my reservation, I was directed to a table toward the back of the long room with a comfortable leather banquette which (surprise!) had an armrest. I had heard live music and could see a trio off to my right playing mellow rock and swing style at just the right volume. I was charmed.
Soon my server Paolo arrived, oozing confidence and foodie knowledge and smiling conspiratorially while describing the intimacies of the menu. He presented me with the food menu and wine list, both bound in brown leather (matching the banquette).
When he returned I ordered a Beefeater martini. He acknowledged having all the ingredients and dashed off to the bar, returning to stir and pour my martini at the table. He noted that there would be more in the shaker once the glass was filled and how I was to hold it to pour the remainder. Nice touch, but unfortunately, even with the personal attention, it was more than a little watered down and didn’t have that familiar kick.
I told Paolo that I intended to have two appetizers and a main course. He recommended my choosing the wine first so that he could uncork it and give it time to breathe by my first course. I chose the 2013 Rosenblum Cellars Zinfandel from Contra Costa County, California. It was a beautiful wine with a delicate nose but a disappointing lack in body. It wasn’t bad, it just wasn’t what I expect of a zinfandel. It worked with every course but didn’t speak for itself.
The two appetizers arrived within minutes of each other. The king crab stuffed mushrooms were served in a little silver frying pan along with a lemon half in yellow netting. They were delightful. The crab meat was only slightly hashed and not pulverized and the mushroom caps were tender with a slight crunch. The second appetizer was one Paolo tempted me with and won: a slab of maple bacon, fully 10 inches long and three-quarters of an inch thick with a maple sauce drizzled over it and a small cress salad.
Paolo confided that he would leave time for these dishes to “settle” before bringing out the main course, an 8-ounce filet mignon with its blanket of truffle butter in the middle of its plate and sautéed wild mushrooms (Shiitake, Cremini, and Porto Bello) next to it. The mushrooms were a mix of and were cooked to perfection losing none of their individual earthy characters. The filet was seared nicely on the outside and my kind of rare on the inside, juicy and tender. This was one time the meal outshone the wine.
As I had room for dessert, I ordered the pecan pie a la mode, a wedge that looked like a quarter of a pie and was crowned with a tennis ball of vanilla ice cream drizzled with caramel and served with gobs of fresh whipped cream. I had to take part of the pie home, but it was good.
Mastro’s is my 98th steakhouse and was impressive in its way. But though it’s chic, has live music, both the food and service are excellent, it doesn’t quite come up to my benchmark steakhouse. Uncle Jack’s still reigns supreme. I would gladly return to Mastro’s to try several other menu items, but I’ll be more careful of the wine ordering and more specific in my cocktail.
Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children By Steve Herte
Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children(20th Century Fox, 2016) – Director: Tim Burton. Writers: Jane Goldman (s/p), Ransom Riggs (novel). Stars: Eva Green, Asa Butterfield, Samuel L. Jackson, Judi Dench, Rupert Everett, Allison Janney, Chris O’Dowd, Terence Stamp, Ella Purnell, Finlay MacMillan, Lauren McCrostie, Hayden Keeler-Stone, Georgia Pemberton, Milo Parker, Pixie Davies, Louis Davison, & Raffiella Chapman. Color, Rated PG-13, 127 minutes.
Based on a 2012 book by Ransom Riggs, this beautifully photographed film directed by Tim Burton is an intriguing adventure in time travel. It begins in Florida as Jake Portman (Butterfield) is being driven to his grandfather, Abraham “Abe” Portman’s (Stamp) house. Jake’s relationship with Abe has been much closer than with his Dad, Franklin Portman (O’Dowd), who is always too busy photographing and writing about birds for a book he’s composing. Abe has been telling Jake the stories of the children with special abilities protected by Miss Alma LeFay Peregrine (Green) and of the wights called Hollowgasts that would destroy all of them.
When Jake arrives this time, Grandpa’s house is in complete disarray and he finds Abe lying near death out back and missing his eyes. Abe’s last words implore Jake to find “the bird in the loop” for all explanations, including the monstrosity Jake glimpses in the everglades just beyond the house.
Franklin doesn’t approve of Abe’s tales and thinks that they have had a negative influence on the boy’s sanity and, as a result he takes Jake Mom to see psychologist Dr. Golan (Janney). Dr. Golan recommends taking Jake to Cairnholm, a small island off the coast of Wales, to hopefully disprove the incredible stories and bring about closure. His mom thinks it’s a good idea and may help with Jake’s bonding with his Dad.
While on a ferry from Wales to Cairnholm, Jake’s Dad points out a peregrine falcon soaring above them and Jake relates it to his grandfather’s yarns. But does this result in bonding? No. Dad can’t wait to get to the beach to a photograph birds for his book and Jake has a mission. With the help of a couple of local youths, he finds the bombed-out shell of the orphanage he knows so well. He explores the ruined grounds and sees what he thinks are ghosts of the children formerly living there. Scared, disappointed and disturbed, he runs back to the inn where he and his Dad are staying, but everything has changed. He’s looked upon as a spy by the pub crawlers now there. (Before, there was barely a person in the room.) It’s only with the help of two of the children that he gets out of the pub and back to the orphanage, now fully restored to its Victorian glory.
Jake doesn’t realize that he has traveled back in time to September 6, 1943. Miss Peregrine is there to greet him and introduce him to all of her charges. Emma wears lead shoes to keep her from floating away and she can control air. Millard is fully invisible, just a newsboy cap floating above his clothes. Enoch O’Connor (MacMillan) can bring inanimate objects or previously dead objects to temporary life by implanting hearts in them. Olive Abroholos Elephanta (McCrostie) controls fire and wears heavy rubber gloves. Fiona Fruanfeld (Pemberton) is sensitive to plants and can hasten growth. Hugh Apiston (Parker) has bees inside him and can make them do his bidding (he has to wear an apiary net over his head at dinner). Bronwyn Bruntley (Davies) and her brother Victor Bruntley (Davison) have the strength of 10 men. Alas, Victor was killed by a Hollowgast and remains in state in his bedroom. Claire Densmore (Chapman) doesn’t reveal her peculiarity until dinner, when she lifts her Shirley Temple curls and exposes the fierce jaws in back of her head. And Horace Somnusson (Keeler-Stone) is a human movie projector who can display his prophetic dreams.
Miss Peregrine tells Jake between puffs on her Meerschaum pipe that she’s a Ymbryne who can turn back time and thus create a “loop,” reliving the same day over and over again. This is why she is so strict with the children on timing. Not only does she have to fight off a Hollowgast every day, she has to be on guard against Barron (Jackson) and his minions, Wights who evolved from a Hollowgasts by eating the eyes of “peculiars.” There is a ghastly scene demonstrating this. Miss Peregrine and other Ymbrynes, including Miss Esmeralda Avocet (Dench) have set up “loops” in various parts of the world to protect children who might otherwise not be accepted in society or even feared (Abe has given Jake a map to find them). This is why she waits until the Nazi bomb almost reaches her house before reversing time.
Jake doesn’t know how to take all of this, but he is developing feelings for Emma. When he reconnects with his father, Dad seems genuinely concerned about his absence, but then insists Jake join him down at the beach the next day, where they meet the ornithologist (Everett), who is also writing a book. Franklin is so disheartened by the sophisticated equipment and the dedication of this new acquaintance that he gives up on his own book. It’s not until his Dad takes a mid-afternoon nap that Jake slips away and heads back to the orphanage. On the way, he discovers that the ornithologist, Dr. Golan and Barron are one and the same. Using Jake as a hostage, Barron convinces Miss Peregrine to transform into her bird form and he takes her away in a cage.
Now it’s up to Jake to protect the children. Fortunately, Miss Avocet is also there. The children team up under his leadership using their own peculiarities to help rescue Miss Peregrine.
I enjoyed Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children even though I think it would give all of my great nieces and nephews nightmares (including the nine-year-old). Eva Green is a slinky house mother with a sly grin and a killer frown. There’s also something sexy about a woman smoking a pipe. Samuel L. Jackson is a consummate villain, though I wondered how he could speak at all with that mouthful of pointed prosthetic teeth. His lisp was even more pronounced than when I saw him in Kingsmen (2015). Dame Judy Dench didn’t have that much of a part, but she did the most she could with it. As I said, the visuals were spectacular and the soundtrack excellent (even without Danny Elfman’s magic). The special effects crew list looks more like the New York City telephone book. My favorite scene was the Jason and the Argonauts retrospect battle between the skeletons and the Hollowgasts.
And…there is a lesson to be learned from this movie. It’s all about “seeing”and “paying attention.” Jake's Dad “sees” his son, but doesn’t pay enough attention to him, while Abe does. Thus, Jake’s peculiar specialty involves “seeing” and is intrinsic to the resolution of the film. As with other fantastic effects films, this movie will probably be nominated for technical expertise and maybe Eva Green will get a head nod, but otherwise it’s just a romp of imagination that, at two hours and seven minutes, is a little too long.
According to its website, the name Vago was “inspired by an historical term meaning ‘Beauty’ in old Latin.” Research as did, I could not confirm this, and I took four years of Latin. As a verb, it means “I wander” and as a noun, it means “vague.” But there’s nothing vague about this sleek, electric blue neon-lit restaurant with an elegant black latticed front window. Classified as Mediterranean, the cuisine is mostly Italian.
Inside the room was all beige with a beautiful bare wood floor interspersing dark planks with mostly lighter woods. Dark wood tables flanked by chairs with beige seats lined the left wall and marched down the center of the room. Faux-arched windows broke up the monotony on the left wall looking out on faux gardens.
I asked my server what was “great” here and I was able to compose a suitable set of dishes and choose a wine. I ordered a Malbec from France, but the manager arrived to inform me they were out of it. He suggested the 2013 “Le Sughere di Frasinello” from Tuscany, Italy. It was wonderful, with a spicy nose, a deep rich red color, and a full body that would go with every dish I ordered.
My first dish was eggplant rollantini, labeled on the menu as simply “eggplant” and described as eggplant rolls stuffed with ricotta cheese in tomato sauce garnished with organic parsley. The eggplant was easily cut with a fork and the ricotta cheese was not too sweet. It was just right and the sauce was delicious.
Next was the pasta, just called pappardelle on the menu. It was obviously homemade, al dente with a rich zesty lamb ragu. It was good. and my wine tasted delightful with it.
As it was my first time at Vago, I thought it only right to have the veal “My Way”: veal scallopini with artichokes, capers, olive oil and white wine, served with roasted potatoes. The scallopini were pounded flat and tender and propped up by the potato chunks. The sauce was almost like a Livornese but with only the hint of olives. The artichokes replaced the physical olive slices nicely. It was lemony, briny, and full of the flavor of the capers. I loved it.
When it came time for dessert, I eschewed the chocolate choices and ordered the assorted European cheese plate, which was not as diverse as the name implied. A couple of Parmesan, Romano, and Brie surrounded a few red grapes and a fan of thinly sliced Macintosh apple. My usual double espresso followed with a glass of Remy Martin XO cognac.
I must remember to return to Vago the next time I “wander” in that part of the Murray Hill section of New York. There’s still the risotto and the lamb shank waiting for me. Maybe they’ll have the French Malbec in stock.
Pete's Dragon By Steve Herte
Pete’s Dragon(Disney, 2016) – Director: David Lowery. Writers: David Lowery, Toby Halbrooks (s/p). Malcolm Marmorstein (based on a screenplay by). Seton I. Miller, S.S. Field (based on a story by). Stars: Bryce Dallas Howard, Robert Redford, Oakes Fegley, Oona Laurence, Wes Bentley, Karl Urban, Isiah Whitlock, Jr., Marcus Henderson, Aaron Jackson, Phil Grieve, Steve Barr, Keagan Carr Fransch, Jade Valour, Augustine Frizzell, & Francis Biggs. Color, Rated PG, 103 minutes.
This is one remake that was worth creating. The 1977 original only served to reconfirm that Disney corporation could mix animated characters with real-life people. But unlike Mary Poppins (1964), it was a silly fantasy with a dragon goofier than Goofy and nowhere near as funny. Today’s technology has provided us with a dragon-sized dragon complete with a wingspread capable of true flight to replace the pot-bellied caricature with the tiny pink wings. We now have a story where we can put aside our disbelief and just enjoy it.
Pete’s parents are driving their young son through the woods and explaining an “adventure” to him when a deer leaps in front of the car. Dad swerves and all we see is Pete’s reaction, securely strapped in, to a car rolling over and landing on its roof. It’s a heart-breaking moment when the two-year-old (we assume) cries when his parents do not answer him but bravely packs his storybook into his back pack and enters the woods. Strange sounds come from everywhere and he’s beset by wolves. Just before they attack we hear the familiar thudding walk of a giant creature (similar to the sound of the T-Rex approaching in Jurassic Park). The wolves scatter and Pete is confronted by a towering green, furry dragon. “Are you going to eat me?” he asks. Wordlessly we know the dragon communicates a no by putting out his left front paw palm up. Pete climbs onto it and the dragon places him gently on his back.
It’s six years later and loggers are working in the forest. Jack (Bentley) and his brother Gavin (Urban) have continued operations in a section of the woods they were not supposed to harvest and forest ranger Grace (Howard) is there to point out the infringement. Her daughter Natalie (Laurence) is with her, wandering around while Mom remonstrates with the foreman.
Now eight years old, Pete (Fegley) watches from the cover of bushes. Natalie spots him and chases him into the forest. They both climb a tree and it’s not until a branch breaks and both go tumbling to the ground that Grace hears her daughter’s screams. When Grace and Jack race in to find her relatively unhurt, she explains that she was chasing Pete and points him out. Pete is captured and the mystery begins.
In a prior scene, we heard Meacham (Redford), Grace’s Dad, telling the children the stories of the “Millhaven Dragon,” and that he himself saw it when he was young. This turns out to be the very dragon whom Pete accredits his survival to and has named him “Elliot” after the main character in his beloved book. Pete wants to get back to Elliot because, “He gets scared when I’m gone,” but Grace makes a deal with him. If he stays the night, she’ll take him back to his “home” in the morning.
Meacham joins Natalie, Grace, and Pete to the section of forest where Grace has never been. (She had claimed previously that, “I know this forest like the back of my hand.”) The three are awestruck at the huge, furry apparition that emerges from under a centuries-old tree, but Natalie steps forward to pet it. Again, wonderful wordless communication comes from the grunts, deep hums and throaty growls from Elliot and they are all convinced he’s friendly. That is, until Gavin bursts onto the scene. He’s terrified, scares Elliot with his rifle, and Elliot does a classic “bend the rifle muzzle back on itself” routine as Gavin retreats.
Gavin is undeterred, gathering the other loggers. Together, they sedate Elliot, chain him onto a flatbed 18-wheeler, haul him out of the forest, and lock him in a barn. But Gavin doesn’t know that Elliot can make himself invisible and he does so when Sheriff Gene Dentler (Whitlock Jr.) arrives. Pete and Natalie free Elliot and, with Meacham at the wheel, break Elliot free and the chase is on.
The new Pete’s Dragon is beautifully done, from the superb special effect of the dragon to the musical soundtrack ranging from tearful sadness to glorious themes in full flight. Both of the children playing Pete are adorable and convincing. Robert Redford does his usual spectacular job and Bryce Dallas Howard depicts the perfect Mom/Naturalist/Protector. The rest of the cast are Disney rubber stamps: predictable. But it’s Elliot who is amazing. The models that were built for the close-ups reveal a facial mobility that succeeds in projecting every emotion. I swore that at one moment he was going to cry.
I guess most New York children had already seen this film by the time I got to it, but the ones that were there were enjoying it quietly and without boredom. They were not scared when Elliot roared or breathed fire. That’s what a dragon is supposed to do, right? But I would also guess that covering him in luxuriant green fur makes him more accessible than the scaly look of a medieval dragon, and he did have distinctly dog-like features. (Remember Falcor in 1984’s The NeverEnding Story?) It reminded me of things I said about Disney films before The Black Hole (1979), where I first saw bloodshed. Before then, it was “survival of the cutest” and that phrase applies to this film as well. But beyond all that, it’s a well-constructed movie with no dead spots, humor mixed in with sadness, and a surprise at the end. I might even add it to my home collection.
Even though this restaurant is across the street from Gabby O’Hara’s, where I go to sing karaoke every Tuesday night, I have never eaten there. The entrance, closer to Sixth Avenue, is garish, intensely Broadway-style, featuring a nearly blinding yellow sign with Chinese calligraphy in white and red.
Inside, however, the decor is much more sedate, with everything in white walls with dark wood trim. The bar has tasteful Chinese paper and wood swags over it with a large fish tank containing tropical fish at the end of the bar.
My server, Jay, a lovely young girl, took my cocktail order: the Lychee Martini – Lychee-infused vodka, juice and simple syrup – because I wanted a drink served in the arty glass I saw on their website. The drink was deceivingly sweet, and contained two Lychees on a toothpick as the garnish.
The service is super-efficient and before I had time to page through the food menu, Jay had opened it to appetizers. I chose Mini Crab Meat Soup Buns. Jay advised me that the dish would take five minutes to prepare and I assured her that I had all the time in the world. Another server noticed the length of time I was without and asked if I wanted to order. I assured her I had an appetizer order in. Jay returned when I closed the menu and helped me with my second and main courses. I chose a standard favorite of mine, Szechuan Sour and Spicy Soup, which arrived almost immediately. It was good, but it was standard, nothing special.
The Mini Crab Meat Soup Buns arrived after I finished the soup, beautifully presented in a light wooden steamer tray resting on a leaf of lettuce and sided by a soy dipping sauce. Very good, but not up to my benchmark for this dish.
Lacking a true wine list, I chose a glass of the house cabernet-sauvignon to go with my main course. It was a nice red, medium bodied wine, suitable to many purposes.
My main dish was Fresh Frog with Pickled Ginger in Spicy Broth. I spooned some onto my serving dish making sure to get as much frog as I could find and started eating. I quickly realized they were not kidding when they labeled this dish “spicy.” It was one of the spiciest dishes I’ve ever had. As my eyes watered I enjoyed the tender white frog meat, scallions and slender mushrooms, carefully sipping my wine so as not to intensify the fire. When I mistook a yellow chili pepper for a piece of meat, I learned that there were three different kinds of chilies in the dish and soon was fishing through the dish with the spoon for the three ingredients I could eat without becoming a smoking volcano. It was most impressive, but the spice killed the delicate flavor of the frog, and as the frog was hacked into small pieces, each containing a bone or two, caution was called for in the dining process.
After I finished the cabernet and ordered a glass of the merlot to go with the remaining rice and ingredients I could safely eat. A few relaxing breaths later and I was ready for dessert. The Gold and Silvery Buns were true “buns” (not like my appetizer). There were four golden-brown fried and four pure white steamed buns stuffed with almond and sesame paste respectively on either side of a teardrop-shaped bowl of sweet, caramel dipping sauce.
The fire was completely out and I was full. I think I will return, with friends whom I know like exotic foods. Frankly, I’m after that conch soup and tripe main dish. They do have dishes for people who like regular Chinese food, which I would recommend for those too squeamish for brains, intestines and fish maws. However, for those who are adventurous, Savour Sichuan is the place.
Florence Foster Jenkins By Steve Herte
Florence Foster Jenkins(Paramount, 2016) – Director: Stephen Frears. Writer: Nicholas Martin. Stars: Meryl Streep, Hugh Grant, Aida Garifullina, David Haig, Simon Helberg, Rebecca Ferguson, Stanley Townsend, Nina Arlanda, Christian McKay, John Kavanagh, Allan Corduner, Mark Arnold, and Nat Luurtsema. Color, Rated PG-13, 111 minutes.
It’s 1944, World War II is in its fifth year and the Verdi Theater is providing music to the elite of New York City to keep their spirits up. With the monetary support of Florence Foster Jenkins (Meryl Streep), an heiress and wife of St. Clair Bayfield (Hugh Grant), an out of work Shakespearean actor, musical vignettes and tableaux are performed along with monologues for the Vanderbilts, Garmunders and other society people.
When St. Clair takes Florence to Carnegie Hall to hear Lily Pons (Garifullina) sing, she’s not only enraptured but she decides to revive her own singing career, even though at 76 she hasn’t sung in 50 years. She enlists the vocal coaching of Carlo Edwards (Haig) of the Metropolitan Opera and has St. Clair interview potential piano accompanists. The first applicant pounds out a passionate Chopin work and Florence complains that he’s “raping my ears” and he’s summarily dismissed. But when Cosmé McMoon (Helberg) plays “The Dying Swan” by Tchaikovsky, she’s totally enthralled and tells St. Clair to send the other applicants home.
Florence warns Cosmé that “I work hard at my singing. One hour a day, sometimes two.” He agrees and arrives promptly for the first rehearsal the next day. But he is not prepared for what he will hear. As Florence joyously goes from gasping low notes to almost quacking the high ones, he has to control himself to keep from laughing. The audience, however cannot do the same. As Carlo enthuses over her, giving her encouragement and vocal tips along the way (which she basically misunderstands anyway) the scene is side-splitting. Later, in the elevator, Cosmé just cannot restrain his laughter, and the audience has a second helping of hilarity.
But every family has its ups and downs and Florence’s marriage is no exception. St. Clair and she do not have a physical relationship (for reasons we learn toward the end of the film) and he leaves her in Manhattan for his apartment in Brooklyn, which he shares with Kathleen (Ferguson).
Florence decides that she’s ready for a concert and St. Clair judiciously controls the ticket sales. Only “Music Lovers” are allowed to attend. This elite group of high society includes Phineas Stark (Townsend) and his new gold-digger type wife Agnes (Arlanda). The line of people is most impressed when Florence walks past them with Arturo Toscanini (Kavanagh). John Totten (Corduner), show critic for the New York Post tries to get a ticket but is put off when St. Clair offers him a bribe not to review it. At the concert, all are polite, but Agnes, not knowing how to react begins cackling and coughing and is removed from the venue as having had an attack of illness. Outside the theater, she’s still rolling on the floor laughing.
The concert goes so well that Florence makes a recording to give as a gift to her friends for Christmas. A new song, “Like a Bird” written by Cosmé is played on the radio and the fan mail pours into Florence’s apartment (mostly from servicemen). She surprises St. Clair by booking Carnegie Hall for a free concert to 1,000 servicemen to thank them for their sacrifices. Her usual coterie of friends is also invited along with Cole Porter (Arnold) who brings Tallulah Bankhead (Nat Luurtsema). Up until now, St. Clair has been able to control the outcome and feedback, but this time he sees the servicemen arriving drunk and among the audience is John Totten (who leaves early).
Whether or not it is intentionally funny, Florence Foster Jenkins is a sensitive recounting of a true story. Meryl Streep masterfully plays the eccentric lead character while channeling Julia Child (I could hear it) and Hyacinth Bucket (Keeping Up Appearances – BBC). Hugh Grant, though a little over-the-top in his monologues, is genuine in his love both for Florence and Kathleen. And, he does a mean swing dance with Agnes at a party. Simon Helberg is the perfect straight man. His mobile face tells what he’s feeling and the audience can sense it through him. After a near disaster, he’s still agog. “I played Carnegie Hall!”
Having seen Meryl Streep in Into the Woods, I know she really can sing (it’s proven toward the end of the film). Learning deliberately how to sing badly must have been a chore. I definitely recommend this film to families with children who will understand what’s going on on-screen. Small children will not. I also see a few Oscar nominations and hopefully a win for Florence Foster Jenkins.
Those who think that Kristalbelli is an Italian restaurant would be wrong. It’s a high-end, chic, Korean restaurant. From the street, all that can be seen is a red cedar paneled door with “8W” above it and the name in raised bronze letters across it. The door is subtly recessed into a wall of gray cedar shingling and is easy to miss if you’re not aware of the address.
Inside, all is sleek cream colors and black trim. I was taken to a room consisting of five tables, a wall of mirrors and rainwater-clear glass swags. Asked ahead of time if I was going to do their barbecue or order off the menu, I chose the latter and a table had to be readied for me, for all tables in this restaurant are cooking stations for barbecue. A pedestal houses a stove whose heating element cooks through a crystal bowl in the table top. This circular bowl forms the center of a brass Buddha’s belly, which rests on the marble tabletop, hence “crystal belly.” or Kristalbelli. A pun.
To start, I ordered the Cucumber Sojutini, a refreshing mix of Soju (a distilled rice liquor whose name means “burned alcohol drink”), lime juice, muddled cucumber and a splash of soda garnished with a cucumber slice. The steel martini glass was the most attractive part of this deceptively mild drink.
As I was finishing my cocktail, my first course, the Shrimp Salad, arrived – warm, plump, spicy seriously spicy Tiger Shrimp liberally placed on fresh mesclun greens, frisé and baby spinach with a sweet mayo sauce dressing. I loved it.
The second course, the Full Moon Dumplings, arrived before I was two-thirds finished with the first. The dumplings look just like Japanese or Chinese fried dumplings, only these are lined up on the plate and are partially covered by a thin crispy crust, which gives the overall impression of a horseshoe crab on the plate. Given the choice of pork or vegetable stuffing, I chose pork. The server instructed me on how to separate the dumplings with the serving tongs and how to crack the crust and get the most enjoyment out of the dish.
While enjoying my two appetizers, my wine arrived, a 2013 Syrah “Ex Umbris” from Columbia Valley in Washington State: a deep, dark red, full-bodied and with a blackberry tone to the taste, perfect for the meal.
A woman rolled a cart in with a platter of typical Korean side dishes including; spiced dried squid, sweetened beets, string beans, red cabbage and a savory tofu. On a separate plate, she placed a single oblong piece of the national dish, Kimchi (a Korean red pepper spiced cabbage).
I was enjoying tasting all of the side dishes between sips of my wine when the main course, Galbijjim, arrived. Served in a bubbling hot iron crock was the juiciest, tender braised beef short ribs (I could cut the pieces with my chopsticks) mixed with jujube (a fruit much like a date), rice cake and mushrooms in the most outrageous sauce I could imagine. Utterly delicious with an earthy overtone.
Would there be room for dessert? Actually, I was satisfied but not full. My waiter recommended two desserts, one as being the most popular and the other as his favorite. I chose the most popular one, again, because of the name, Nunedine, a dollop of caramel ice cream drizzled with caramel on one side of the plate and three crisp puff pastries at the other joined by a smear of chocolate sauce and a smear of caramel on the plate.
When I finished this meal, my opinion of Korean restaurants improved greatly. This was my 10th experience and a very pleasant one. Everyone on the staff was smiling genuinely and were happy to answer my questions. The big surprise was the demonstration on how to eat the dumplings. I’m not used to that. Kristalbelli, silly name or not, is number one in my Korean book.
The BFG By Steve Herte
The BFG(Amblin/Disney, 2016) – Director: Steven Spielberg. Writers: Melisa Matheson (s/p), Roald Dahl (book). Stars: Mark Rylance, Ruby Barnhill, Penelope Wilton, Jermaine Clement, Rebecca Hall, Rafe Spall, Bill Hader, Ólafur Darri Ólafsson, Adam Godley, Michael Adamthwaite, Daniel Bacon, Jonathan Holmes, Chris Gibbs, Paul Moniz de Sa, & Marilyn Norry. Color, Rated PG, 117 minutes.
After the Orphanage Matron (Norry) fails to secure all the locks on the front door and leaves half the mail on the floor, we see Sophie (Barnhill) wrapped in a quilt, tip-toe down the main staircase to complete the unfinished tasks. In her monologue, we learn that the “Witching Hour” is not necessarily midnight, or even one or two o’clock. It’s three in the morning, the hour that only Sophie is awake, that she returns to her bed with a flashlight and her copy of Nicholas Nickleby by Charles Dickens. The other children in three rows of beds are fast asleep. Sophie’s bed is the last one in the center row, nearest the window.
Suddenly, she hears a clatter in the street below and she recites her mantra, “Do not get out of bed…(she does)…Do not go to the window…(she does)…Do not look behind the curtains…(again, she does)…and do not look over the railing!” She finds a few cats have overturned a garbage can.
However, a huge hand appears from around the corner and uprights the garbage can.
The giant (Rylance) hears her gasp, knows he’s been seen and plucks her from her bed, quilt and all, and speedily runs back to Giantland, which is somewhere in the North Sea, beyond Scotland.
Sophie learns that the giant doesn’t want to eat her (as most giants would), but instead eats a noxious stew made from the ugliest cucumber ever (called a snozzcumber). She understands that he’s friendly and because he wants to go about in secret, he kidnapped her to remain unseen. She redubs him BFG for Big Friendly Giant (he never reveals his true name).
Sophie soon discovers that BFG is the runt of a litter of 10 giants who refer to him as “Runt,” and are big enough to carry him like a doll. They have names: Fleshlumpeater (Clement), Bloodbottler (Hader), Maidmasher (Ólafsson), Manhugger (Godley), Butcher Boy (Adamthwaite), Childchewer (Holmes), Gizzardgulper (Gibbs) and Meatdripper (Moniz de Sa), and they do eat children.
BFG’s “job” is catching dreams in Dreamland and blowing them through his trumpet to sleeping people. But when Sophie insists on accompanying him on a hunting foray, the other giants find her quilt and smell her on it. They know BFG is harboring a “bean” (their word for a ‘being’) and when BFG takes Sophie back to London, they figure out his source of their ‘food’ and follow. What to do? Enlist the services of Queen Elizabeth II (Wilton), her aide, Mary (Hall), and Head of Household Mr. Tibbs (Spall). But this plan requires the revelation of the BFG.
The book, written in 1982 by Roald Dahl, was made into an animated film in 1989. This amazing live-action film’s screenplay comes from the pen of the late Melissa Mathison. Under Steven Spielberg’s able direction and with John Williams spectacular musical talents, this remarkably sensitive film needed a telephone book of people working on its stunning visual effects. I remember back when King Kong’s finger bent backward with the struggles of the beauty he caught. Not here. The giants are as real as Sophie and the close-ups are simply mind-boggling.
Frankly, I expected this movie to be silly, and in some short scenes, it was. But the sheer genius behind the production, the message behind the near-gibberish (you can understand it, but it sounds like Jabberwocky) spoken by the BFG and the superior acting by Mark Rylance and Ruby Barnhill bring this fantasy into reality. There was teary pathos and laugh-till-you-cry visual comedy. Even the most cynical child would be entertained. I know I will still laugh uncontrollably whenever I remember the green brew frobscottle, the volatile potable with downward-fizzing bubbles and explosive “Whizpopping” after-effect. My favorite line? “Dreams are short on the outside, but long on the inside.”
The term “Hotel Restaurant” evokes shudders in some reviewers. They are often known for spotty service, so-so food and cheesy décor. But we all know it’s the exception that proves the rule.
The classy glass and brass awning over the entrance to the Paramount Hotel in midtown Manhattan raises expectations. The soft gold lighting and elegant use of mirrors and black walls makes it an inviting place to stay.
The young man at the station gave me a choice of two tables. I chose the one with more light and was seated on a comfortable gray leather banquette. The operative word at Paramount is comfort. Though obviously a bar, it’s also a stress-relieving lounge. There is an arty silver-gray wine rack on the wall facing the bar. The black, bare-topped tables melt into the overall décor and the white cloth napkins and stemmed water glasses add to the relaxed atmosphere.
My server Thomas arrived shortly and asked if I wanted a cocktail. Though the “Smoky Scotsman” was an attractive brew I went with my favorite martini when Thomas confirmed the availability of Beefeaters gin. It was well-chilled and well mixed.
When Thomas returned, I had chosen a salad but was torn between two main courses. He recommended one over the other but asked if I was really hungry because it was a large portion. I assured him I would pace myself.
While Thomas was registering my order, another server brought a silver basket with warm rolls resting on a napkin and the butter dish on the side. He noticed my finished cocktail and asked if I wanted another. I told him I was switching to wine and had a salad coming. He recommended the 2010 Chardonnay from the Santa Barbara Winery, California. A crisp, well-chilled, golden wine, it went perfectly with my Baby Spinach Salad.
My eyes popped from their sockets at the main course; a 14 oz. Berkshire Pork Chop, sizzling and beautifully browned. It sat majestically on a bed of bright green broccolini in a whole grain mustard cream sauce. It was a good five inches in diameter and a little over an inch thick. The meat was tender and white, not too dry, and savory where browned. I succeeded in slowing down and finished it.
The side dish, called “O’Brien’s Potato Hash,” was way different from hash-browns. Bite-sized wedges of baked potato along with chopped red and yellow peppers and a small dish of homemade catsup. Served Brit-style on faux newspaper, it was kitschy as well as delicious.
Thomas wondered if I had any room left for dessert and I asked him for a recommendation. The “Pastry Bread Pudding” caught my eye and that was his advice. The fluffy pudding was topped with a substantial scoop of vanilla ice cream drizzled with caramel. It was good, but it was the only dish I didn’t finish. Thomas asked why. “Needs bourbon,” I replied. A double espresso later and my Paramount dinner was finished. I may even try to stay at the Paramount on my next stay-cation.
Star Trek Beyond By Steve Herte
Star Trek Beyond(Paramount, 2016) – Director: Justin Lin. Writers: Simon Pegg, Doug Jung, Roberto Orci, Patrick McKay & John D. Payne. Based on the television series by Gene Roddenberry. Stars: Chris Pine, Zachary Quinto, Karl Urban, Zoe Saldana, Simon Pegg, John Cho, Anton Yeltsin, Idris Elba, Sofia Boutella, Joe Taslima, Lydia Wilson, Deep Roy, Melissa Roxburgh, Anita Brown, & Doug Jung. Color and 3D, Rated PG-13, 122 minutes.
I have a confession to make: I’m a “Trekkie.” I have a complete set of action figures, starships for my Christmas tree and a Next Generation captain’s shirt. Though I don’t attend conventions, I followed the original Star Trek series, Next Generation, Voyager, and Deep Space Nine and will probably follow the upcoming Star Trek Discovery next year. And yes, I’ve seen all 12 previous movies, with this 13th installment having both things to applaud and to wonder about.
We begin in the third year of the “five-year mission” and while relations between members of the crew are becoming strained, they’re heading for some “R and R” on an amazing artificial world dubbed “Yorktown,” described by Scotty (Pegg) as “a snow-globe with a city in it.” That’s putting it mildly. Yorktown is a gargantuan structure where skyscrapers sprout up, down and sideways, depending on which walkway one is using. Mass transit flashes by on a single rail and all “cars” fly (Jetsons, anyone?). A gate opens and the Enterprise flies straight into a tube leading to an internal docking point.
Captain James Tiberius Kirk (Pine) is being offered a Vice-Admiralty and Commander Spock (Quinto) is considering leaving the Enterprise for New Vulcan to continue the work of his father. Meanwhile, the crew gets relief from interstellar travel to meet and greet friends and family.
A distress call is received from a planet in an “Unstable Nebula” and the Enterprise is assigned to investigate. Forgive me, but I have always believed that nebulae were clouds of gas and dust illuminated by ionization, sometimes the result of a supernova, and where stars are born. All are expanding and none are truly what would be called stable. This one is more crammed with craggy rocks than the asteroid field in Star Wars V–The Empire Strikes Back, and looks more like an exploded planet than a star. But … this is science fiction.
Once past the nebula, the Enterprise is attacked by a huge swarm of jagged, pointy ships that easily punch holes in its bulkhead and discharge hordes of reptilian fighters. (Where are the Enterprise’s shields?) They’re looking for an ancient artifact called the Abronath that Kirk tried to offer to another alien race that looks like lions but are the size of pugs as a peace offering. This artifact is wanted by the fearsome Krall (Elba) to complete (what else?) the ultimate weapon to wipe out humanity. (Gee, that’s original.) It remains hidden until a traitor is unmasked, the alien Kalara (Lydia Wilson), who reveals the hiding place in the tentacles forming her headdress. The swarm of pointy ships slice and dice the Enterprise like an inter-galactic blender, the crew is taken hostage, the officers use escape pods and the ship crash lands on the planet Altamid.
Sulu (Cho), Lieutenant Uhura (Saldana), and Chekov (Yelchin) are captured, but Sulu and Chekov later escape. Spock is impaled by debris when the escape pod carrying him and Doctor “Bones” McCoy (Urban) crashes. Thank goodness he had the doctor with him. Scotty lands near the edge of a cliff and meets Jaylah (Boutella), a skunk-striped alien who is also stranded. She leads him to her home, the old, warp-4 starship Franklin, formerly commanded by Balthazar Edison.
The dilemmas facing the heroes when they reunite on the Franklin are how to rescue Uhura, restart a grounded starship, and stop Krall and his minions from destroying Yorktown.
Though it sounds exciting, for Trekkies, there’s a lot of “been there and done that.” The cinematography is darker than a Thomas Cole painting (sometimes it’s difficult to see what’s happening), and the science credibility goes in and out of the fantastic. For everyone else, it’s a fast-moving picture with lots of action, relieved only in spurts by character development. Again, for Trekkies, it was good to see Kirk, Spock, Bones, Sulu and Chekov growing into the characters we know and love from the original TV series, right down to Doctor McCoy’s line, “In a pig’s eye!” Only Zoe Saldana has not grasped the majesty of being Uhura. I found it rather hilarious that the song “Sabotage,” performed by the Beastie Boys, is used to disorient the enemy fleet and more than a little strange that Spock receives his own death notice as Ambassador Spock.
But it was good that, in this 50th Anniversary year, the film was dedicated to the late Leonard Nimoy and simply, “For Anton,” the late Anton Yeltsin. Rating: 3½ out of 5 Martini glasses. Did you know? Pine's grandmother as Anne Gwynne, Universal actress and World War II pin-up.
Surya, which means “sun” in Hindi, is doing well in its new locale. Its previous site at 302 Bleeker St. closed in 2012 as a result of rent increases and damages from Superstorm Sandy.
Inside, all is golden, with tasteful, minimal ornamentation – framed photographs of the past, mirrors and statutes of Ganesha and elephants.
A young lady greeted me at the door and led me to a table where Shradha, my server, presented me with the menu and took my cocktail order. I chose the “Summer Delight Cocktail,” made with cucumber-flavored vodka, mango juice and cloves. Not too strong, it was an appropriately named drink.
“Colonial Indian” is how Surya describes their menu, from a time when England, Portugal, Spain and The Netherlands influenced Indian cuisine with their own.
A young man brought out the papadum (a bread like a giant potato chip) with mint and tamarind chutney. Sometimes mint chutney can be spicy, but not this time, and tamarind is always sweet. I chose as my wine a 2014 Clos Du Mont-Olivet Chateauneuf du Pape, a wine I haven’t had in a long time and one that goes with Indian food.
My first course was the smoked tomato soup – smoked ripe tomatoes and cinnamon sticks garnished with sour cream and cilantro. It was delightful, as I could taste the smokiness of a wood fire.
Next to arrive were two of Surya’s baby lamb chops, wrapped in aluminum foil for easy handling, nicely charred in the tandoor oven, and tender, marinated in yoghurt and served with a warm special house sauce and side salad of shredded cabbage and arugula.
My main dish was one I’ve never seen before on an Indian menu: Halibut Moli, sautéed halibut in a ginger and coconut sauce., served with Basmati rice. It was amazing, the sauce went well with both the fish and the rice, as I spooned out some of the rice to my plate and spoon cut the fish onto the rice. Then I added some of the sauce onto the rice and added a slice of the Onion and Black Pepper Kulcha (a flat bread made in the tandoor). Everything was deliciously balanced in flavor, nothing was particularly spicy and I would recommend this dish to anyone prejudiced against Indian cuisine.
The dessert menu featured several of the desserts I know and love but one stood out. While I’ve had pistachio, chocolate, and plain Kulfi, I never tasted Malai Kulfi. I enjoyed this true departure from the original recipe with chocolate, raspberry and strawberry sauces artfully painted on the serving dish. I followed this with Masala Chai (hot spiced tea) and since they did not have evaporated milk I drank it without milk.
Surya proved to be an intriguing choice, and though I like my Indian food to be more traditionally Indian, this colonial style is sure to please even the most spice-o-phobic New Yorkers.
Ghostbusters By Steve Herte
Ghostbusters(Columbia, 2016) – Director: Paul Feig. Writers: Katie Dippold & Paul Feig. Based on the 1984 film Ghostbusters by Ivan Reitman, Dan Ackroyd & Harold Ramis. Stars: Melissa McCarthy, Kristen Wiig, Kate McKinnon, Leslie Jones, Neil Casey, Sigourney Weaver, Andy Garcia, Bill Murray, Dan Ackroyd, Ernie Hudson, Annie Potts, Zach Woods, Ed Begley, Jr., Chris Hemsworth, Charles Dance, John Milhiser, Ben Harris, Cecily Strong, Karan Soni, Bess Rous, Steve Higgins, Dave Allen, Robin Shelby, & Katie Dippold. Color, Rated PG-13, 116 minutes.
Helene once told me to expect nothing and you’ll never be disappointed. That’s how I approached both my movie and my dinner.
What has oceans of slime, galaxies of neon blue and green lights and so-so acting? Only the third sequel I’ve seen this year that didn’t need to be made. Actually, it’s not a sequel. It’s a remake, and we know how they can turn out. The original team of Ghostbusters: Dan Ackroyd, Bill Murray, Harold Ramis, and Ernie Hudson have been recast with Kristin Wiig as Erin Gilbert, Melissa McCarthy as Abby Yates, Kate McKinnon as Jillian Holtzman, and Leslie Jones as Patty Tolan. The original cast had Annie Potts for their not-so-good secretary Janine Melnitz and the new one has Chris Hemsworth as the totally incompetent but good-looking Kevin.
The story is different in a few places, however the end result is the same. The opening scene sees a tour group in the Aldridge Mansion and Museum and the tour guide, Zach Woods, gets a little more spookiness than he had written into his script.
Gilbert is a physics and mathematics teacher who is up for tenure at Columbia University when she learns from Ed Mulgrave (Begley Jr.), curator at the Aldridge Mansion Museum, that “Ghosts of Our Past” the book she co-wrote with Abby (and tried to squelch) is suddenly popular on the Internet and has sold more than the two copies she remembers.
He came to her as an expert on the paranormal. When she confronts Abby about this potentially career-ruining publication, she meets the weird and wacky Jillian tinkering in Abby’s lab and has to make a deal with Abby to investigate the ghost sighting in the mansion.
The three go to the museum and meet the malevolent spirit of Gertrude Aldridge (Rous). Erin is convinced to join Abby and is subsequently fired when the news media airs the story. Abby and Jillian are booted out of their lab as well and the three abscond with the equipment. Where to go? They are shown the firehouse previously used by the original Ghostbusters team but the rental is way over their budget. They settle for the upper floor of Zhu’s Authentic Hong Kong Food.
When interviewing for a secretary, they meet Patty Tolan who tells them of the apparition she encountered in the mythical Seward Street subway station on the Upper East Side. They bring their ghost capturing tools to the subway but are unable to contain the electric phantom. However, Jillian knows how to increase the power of their equipment.
Meanwhile, the often bullied and constantly ignored Rowan North (Casey) is planning to open a portal to let all ghosts back onto the streets of New York to haunt the entire population. (Sound familiar?) He’s planted devices in several focal places, one of which is a rock concert in a venue similar to Irving Place.
The now quartet of Ghostbusters figure out the location and bring their improved capturing apparatus. The winged gargoyle is entrapped; the audience is thrilled beyond belief (they think it’s a part of the act), and the team members are arrested and brought before Mayor Bradley (Garcia) and his chief spin-doctor, Jennifer Lynch (Strong). Together, they give a cover-up story to the media and discount the Ghostbusters as a hoax. Does this sound even more familiar? (At the exit of the rock venue, look for a cameo by Ozzie Osbourne.)
If that weren’t bad enough, who shows up at their office but Martin Heiss the paranormal debunker (Murray). He pushes all of Erin’s buttons and she releases the gargoyle to prove they captured it. Bad idea. It flies at Heiss, pushes him out the window and out of the film.
Eventually, the girls figure out Rowan’s scheme and where “ghost central” will be – the non-existent Mercado Hotel (possibly the Conde Nast Building?) – confront Rowan, who appears to commit suicide by electrocution, and are able to shut the machine down. But once again, Lynch trumps their success as an obvious hoax, and the public is unaware of the disaster they just averted.
But wait, there’s more. Rowan’s ghost possesses Kevin and restarts the machine unleashing a torrent of ectoplasmic apparitions, including a ghostly Thanksgiving Day Parade of phantom balloons with the Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man in the rear. (Hmmm) The girls have their work cut out for them.
Except for the special effects and the eye-popping 3D, this movie has a been-there, did-that feel. Instead of an ancient god releasing the ghosts, we have a disgruntled employee doing it. The re-orchestration of the familiar theme song was effective, especially the dance routine during the credits led by Hemsworth. A running gag in the film featuring Bennie the delivery boy (Soni) who repeatedly delivers the wonton soup wrong to Abby is fun, but most of the jokes fall flat from faulty delivery. I laughed five times in the hour and 56 minutes.
But seeing the original cast in cameo roles was refreshing. The desk clerk at the Mercado Hotel was Annie Potts, Dan Aykroyd was a cabbie (as well as being the executive director), the funeral director who unknowingly supplied the hearse – plated “Ecto-1” (Hmmm) – was Patty’s Uncle Bill (Hudson) and, at the end, Jillian’s mentor is revealed to be Rebecca Gorin (Weaver). I didn’t see any memorial or reference to Harold Ramis, and Rick Moranis was noticeably missing. It was cute that Slimer found a girlfriend in Lady Slimer (Robin Shelby) and Fox 5 News Anchors (Rosanna Scotto and Greg Kelly) were a surprise along with Al Roker playing himself.
If you don’t remember the first movie, you will find it entertaining. The dialogue is squeaky clean. Your kids would enjoy it without getting scared. Me? I just sighed and wished the original cast could have taken over.
Sometimes the first restaurant you investigate is the one you want. But there are times when the right restaurant is the one located conveniently and has an opening at the right time even though it’s not the one you would pick first.
Schilling is a two-month-old Austrian restaurant almost hidden away on the east side of Washington Street amid scaffolding and aged buildings. The location is a tenement building dating from 1871 and looks it. The once white exterior of a retractable garage door and the two columns flanking the door is faded and chipped. However, inside is a tastefully decorated bistro with a 24-seat communal table in the middle of the room leading to the aluminum bar at the far wall. Tables with white chairs and brown banquettes line the two side walls. Real votive candles and wildflowers in small vases line the center of the tables.
The young lady who greeted me would eventually become my server. When she asked if I wanted a drink, I chose the Aviation Cocktail – gin, maraschino liqueur, and lemon juice. It was citrusy and refreshing.
My first dish was roasted artichoke hearts with baby carrots and short ribs. It was delightful. The artichokes were crunchy and nicely blackened, the carrots sweet and tender right to the green tips and the pieces of short rib a little salty but juicy.
The accompanying wine was a fine 2013 pinot noir “Mayer am Pfaarplatz” from Austria, a very nice medium-bodied red that went well with all my dishes, especially the next one: grilled quail with sautéed marbled potato, broccoli rabe and dandelion pesto. The quail was crispy skinned, easy to pry apart and tasted wonderful. I have to admit, the potato and the broccoli rabe, which I would normally eschew, were equally good with the pesto.
My main course was something I would never expect on an Austrian menu: braised lamb shoulder with Israeli couscous, mustard greens, and cherry tomatoes. It was as delicious to eat as it was to look at. The attractive presentation left no doubt that it was one of the most popular dishes on the menu. The mustard greens were an inspiration. I ordered curried peas as a side dish, and to my surprise they were snow peas topped with filaments of fried onion and in the lightest curry sauce ever. Even someone who hates curry would love the taste of this dish.
For dessert I had apple strudel with fresh vanilla ice cream and strawberries. It was far from ordinary – delicate in both texture and flavor. I finished with a double espresso and a thistle glass of Austrian brandy. I found Schilling was worth every penny and way beyond its dowdy exterior. It deserves a return visit.
Kindergarten Cop 2 By Steve Herte
Kindergarten Cop 2(Universal, 2016) – Director: Don Michael Paul. Writers: David H. Steinberg (s/p). Based on the film written by Timothy Harris, Murray Salem, & Herschel Weinrot. Stars: Dolph Lindgren, Fiona Vroom, Sarah Strange, Daria Taylor, Aleks Paunovic, Bill Bellamy, Enid-Raye Adams, Danny Watley, Rebecca Olson, Raphael Alejandro, Abbie Magnusen, Andre Tricoteux, Michael P. Northey, Jenny Sandersson, Dean Petriw, & Carolyn Adair. Color, Rated PG-13, 100 minutes.
After the success of the first movie in 1990 starring Arnold Schwarzenegger as Agent Kimble, it took 25 years for us to be treated to this lukewarm sequel. FBI Agent Zack Reed (Lundgren) goes undercover as a teacher in a new-age, politically correct, over-protective kindergarten to find a flash-drive containing sensitive information on the Federal Witness Protection Program.
The FBI provides him with a glowing resume that impresses the Head Mistress, Miss Sinclaire (Strange) and gets him the job easily. He thinks that six-year-olds are simple to handle, but not with Cowboy (Alejandro), who is hyper-allergic to peanuts, and Molly (Magnusen), whose dad is having employment problems and is taking out his frustration on his family. Zack’s first day on the job is an almost total disaster, only saved by fellow teacher Olivia (Taylor).
Zack’s partner, Agent Sanders (Bellamy) and a parent himself. eventually convinces him to wear a communication device and things progress much better with his coaching. At the same time, the Albanian mob is also after the same flash-drive under the leadership of the merciless Zogu (Paunovic), who comes off like a second-rate Boris Badenov.
Another thing Zack isn’t prepared for is falling in love with Olivia, thus alienating fellow male teacher Hal (Michael P. Northey), who has called “dibs” on her. Frankly, if I were as roly-poly as Hal, I would not confront a muscular guy like Lundgren with such a childish claim.
With the exception of the kids, the acting in this film falls flat. It’s really all about them. They’re adorable. Lundgren is just as wooden as his chiseled good looks. His boss Mike Giardello (Watley) tops the boring scales with his overacting, but never quite evens out the balance. The audience is left with only the children to care about as characters, and they’re being natural.
There are several attempts at humor. Some succeed, some are ruined by Lundgren’s off-hand delivery. Maybe if he had an accent? The writing is good but only the six-year-olds and Sarah Strange know how to handle punch lines. Even at the climax of the film, it’s the children reenacting a scene from the Trojan War who save the day. But it doesn’t save the movie. There's a good reason it went straight to video.
After two days of touring the Catskills and a Chinese take-out dinner with my godson’s family, my sister, brother-in-law and I had our sights set on a lovely Italian dinner in Milford, but it was booked for the time we preferred. The search for a dining experience ran the gamut of places previously visited to places none of us wanted to visit. And then we hit upon a Mexican restaurant none of us has tried.
On the main road in Orange, Puerto Vallarta stands out. The adobe hacienda-style design of the restaurant is eye-catching and as the sun goes down, the strings of multi-colored twinkle lights edge every curve of the Alamo-like entrance. Inside the front door is a colorful mural of a welcoming señorita with carved dark-wood benches lined up around tall tables in both directions. Sun motifs are on the walls as well as brightly painted artworks framed by authentic Mexican tiles.
Our server, Lupe, introduced herself and offered the possibility of cocktails. I chose the Puerto Vallarta Cosmolito – a Mexican twist to an American favorite with Don Julio Silver Tequila, Grand Marnier, cranberry juice, and fresh lime juice. It was mostly sweet with a little tart overtone and that beautiful rosy color.
Not seeing a small appetizer-sized salad on the menu as a side, my sister tried asking for a “tossed” salad. I ordered the Sopa de Albondigas (meatball soup) – fresh-minted beef and pork meatballs, with seasonal vegetables in a clear broth, served with diced onions, fresh mint, oregano and warm tortillas in a ceramic crock. The salad was dinner-sized and enough for both my sister and her husband. My soup was just right for me, a good-sized bowl filled with sliced summer squash, cauliflower, green peppers and savory tender meatballs.
The Enchiladas Suizas – corn tortillas filled with a choice of cheese, chicken, ground beef, or “picadillo” (shredded beef) topped with green tomatillo sauce and Monterrey Jack cheese and sour cream – were a little disappointing and lacking in flavor for my brother-in-law and the refried beans were not to his liking. My sister had the Fajita Quesadilla – large flour tortillas filled with melted cheese, marinated grilled strips of chicken or steak, sautéed onions and bell peppers with guacamole, sour cream and Pico de Gallo. The meat was tender and well-cooked and flavorful. She enjoyed it but found the portion a bit too large.
My Chamorro Pibil – lamb shank marinated overnight in wine, wrapped in banana leaves and baked, served with white rice, beans and salsa verde (fresh tomatillos, avocado, chilies and special Puerta Vallarta spices) – was excellent. The meat fell off the two bones into the rich sauce. I took some of the white rice and mixed it with the beans and a little sauce and was very happy and the salsa verde added just the right touch of heat.
For dessert, my two companions shared the Tres Leches (three milks) Cake. It was moist, fluffy and sweet and just the right size. I had the Dulce de Leche Cheese Cake and it was amazing. There were three layers, the sweet milk on top, chocolate cheese in the middle and cream cheese on the bottom, all laced with caramel syrup and topped with a cherry.
And for a finisher I had a coffee called Mexican Dream – coffee with Kahlua, brandy and Bailey’s Irish Cream. Even when I was in Puerto Vallarta, Mexico I didn’t eat this well. I’m sure we’ll all return. Independence Day: Resurgence
Day: Resurgence(20th Century Fox, 2016) –
Director: Roland Emmerich. Writers: Nicolas Wright, James A. Woods,
Dean Devlin, & Roland Emmerich (story & s/p). James
Vanderbilt (s/p). Dean Devlin, & Roland Emmerich (characters).
Stars: Liam Hemsworth, Jeff Goldblum, Jessie T. Usher, Bill Pullman,
Maika Monroe, Sela Ward, William Fichtner, Judd Hirsch, Brent Spiner,
Patrick St. Esprit, Vivica A. Fox, Angelababy, Charlotte Gainsbourg,
Nicholas Wright, & DeObia Oparei. Color, 3D, Rated PG-13, 120
had 20 years to prepare – so did they.” So goes the catch phrase
in the trailers of this unnecessary sequel. Yeah, we used the time to
integrate alien technology into our construction, transportation and
weapons systems. Now we have anti-gravity fighter planes, a ring of
anti-alien ray guns in orbit around Earth, and a monster ray cannon
on our moon base as well as a base on Saturn’s moon Rhea. And yes,
the first movie was released in 1996. But where did the aliens come
from and why were they here? We needed this film to explain that.
Hiller (Usher), son of the deceased Stephen Hiller (Will Smith), is
being celebrated at the White House by President Elizabeth Lanford
(Ward). We see a portrait of his father on the wall behind him as he
enters the reception area. He’s been selected to lead an elite
squadron of fighter pilots and thus, the world defense team.
in Africa, the only alien ship to have landed in 1996 and thought to
be out of commission, lights up. Earth Space Defense Director David
Levinson (Goldblum) meets with Dr. Catherine Marceaux (Gainsbourg)
and the formidable warlord Dikembe Umbutu (Oparei) to investigate.
The ship was once a drilling operation (no one knew why) and is now
sending out a distress call. Umbutu shares a headache with anyone who
got too close to the aliens in the first movie.
President Thomas Whitmore (Pullman) wakes up from a hideous nightmare
in the opening scene of being face to face with an alien. Dr. Brakish
Okun (Spiner) is sprung from his 20-year coma by a similar nightmare.
They, along with the warlord, all see the same symbol – a circle
with a straight line bisecting it from the left. Umbutu can read the
alien language, Whitmore translates the symbol as fear, and Okun
draws a sphere from his vision.
the moon, Jake Morrison (Hemsworth), former comrade-in-arms of Dylan,
is still a space jockey, piloting a space tug to put the final
enormous piece in place and completing the defense ray gun at the
base. At first, it’s off center and starts to topple. But he
recklessly uses his hyper-drive to muscle it back into its socket.
Han Solo would be proud.
a communication is received that something really large is tugging on
the rings of Saturn and that the base on Rhea is already gone. A
titanic sphere emerges from a wormhole over the moon and hovers
benignly over the base, as if watching it.
strikes the leaders of the world and the new weapon is used to shoot
it down. It was friendly, however. Jake ferries David to the moon
and, using the tug, retrieves a piece of the sphere for dissection at
ESD Headquarters in Area 51, Nevada. Another ship, this one
unfriendly and 3,000 miles wide, starts creating havoc on the moon.
The debris field it leaves after demolishing the new weapon is
carried along with it as it heads for Earth. The theory proposed was
that it was so large, it warped the fabric of space to acquire its
own gravity. As it heads for a landing, it sucks up buildings, planes
cars and people in Malaysia on its approach to the Atlantic.
a landing causes a tsunami on America's east coast where it just so
happens Julius Levinson (Hirsch), David’s dad, is out on his boat.
It dumps all the debris into the Thames (including the Petronas
Towers) in London. It straddles the Atlantic and proceeds to drill
the mid-Atlantic ridge to remove the Earth’s molten core.
Goldblum, ever the voice of gloom and doom posits, “If they remove
our molten core, we’ll lose our magnetic field and the solar wind
will wipe out all life on Earth.” That is the one piece of science
that is believable in this film. But he also gets a lot of the funny
lines, making one wonder if this movie is secretly a comedy.
Spiner is hilarious and has put on some weight as he uses alien
technology to cut open the portion of the sphere and communicate with
the virtually intelligent white sphere within. At least we learn that
the sphere people and the aliens have been at war for a long time and
the sphere promises greater technology for ensuring its safety (it’s
the last of its kind, of course).
chuckled several times at the absurdity of this sequel, especially
when we learn that Cheyenne Mountain was destroyed, along with the
current president and all of her cabinet, with General Joshua Adams
(Fichtner) being sworn in. It was good to see Robert Loggia again,
playing General William Grey in his last movie role (he died in
December 2015). And, if the white sphere is correct, there will be
another sequel (hopefully in 20 years).
the 24,000 restaurants graded by the Department of Health in New York
City, the third largest ethnic group is Italian at 1,035 (4%).
American and Chinese form the bulk of this number. When I choose a
restaurant, I space the Italians with other cuisines to keep the
variety, though I could easily eat Italian every day of the week
without regret. Florian Café is my 361st Italian.
only having opened in February 2015, this charming, friendly place
brings the atmosphere of a 300-year-old trattoria in Venice. Bright
red signs with the name in bold white letters are prominently posted
on the scaffolding enveloping the restaurant. The entrance is a
revolving door framed by backlit photos of wine and liquor bottles
and topped by the name in bright white capital letters.
a high ceiling is supported by arches painted to appear as if
constructed of two-tone stone blocks, with a spacious informal dining
area opens to the right and a 12-seat bar is to the left flanked by
four two-customer booths. In the middle of the bar, one cannot miss
the bronze statue of a naked woman uncorking a wine bottle held
between her knees. In back is a gorgeous, formal room dominated by a
glorious crystal chandelier orbited by brass rings.
Captain’s Station is a few steps into the restaurant from the door
and the young lady there led me to the second to the last booth,
where I chose to sit facing that fabulous emerald room. My server,
David, appeared and I ordered a Beefeater martini. It was perfect,
with three Spanish olives skewered on a stick suspended over it.
first course was the Short Rib Meatballs in Sunday gravy: two
delicious meatballs sprinkled with grated cheese in just about the
richest red sauce imaginable – chock full of every Italian
ingredient from garlic and basil to wine and cheese.
this point, I had David bring the wine, a 2012 “Dei” Vino Nobile
Di Montepulciano, an amazing full-bodied red that can stand up to the
strongest flavors in an Italian meal and still delight the senses. My
second course was Pappardelle: broad, flat and long noodles served
simply in eggplant parmigiana sauce and garnished with sprigs of
fresh basil. I had David grind fresh pepper and fresh cheese over the
top. Made in-house, the pasta was al dente and delicious. The baby
eggplant scattered throughout the sauce added a sweet/tart flavor to
in the Lenten season are usually my fish days but the next dish just
had to be chosen. The Red Snapper Livornese, completely invisible
under braised tomatoes, olives and capers and another lovely tomato
sauce. And, to my surprise, no bones, Just delicious flaky fish
smothered in savory ingredients (and more basil garnish, of course).
I finished my wine, I looked around and saw a most unusual thing
behind the bar (besides the naked lady) – a chalk board listing
various bodily ailments, the kind of wine to take to cure them, and
how many glasses, all in Italian. For instance, it takes four glasses
of Barolo to cure anemia. I loved it.
dessert, David suggested “Limoncello Pie.” How do I describe it?
It was like a strong lemon mousse pie but the upper crust was like
the glaze on a crème brulée. To go with it, I ordered a double
espresso and a lovely glass of Barolo grappa. The charm of Florian
Café is only equaled by its reasonable prices for both food and
wine. Of course, if you want to go overboard, that’s available as
well. As for myself, I’ll be back. Maybe for lunch someday.
Now You See Me 2 By Steve Herte
Now You See Me 2(Lionsgate, 2016) – Director: Jon M. Chu. Writers: Ed Solomon (s/p and story), Pete Chiarelli (story), Boaz Yakin & Edward Ricourt (characters). Stars: Jesse Eisenberg, Mark Ruffalo, Woody Harrelson, Dave Franco, Daniel Radcliffe, Isla Fisher, Lizzy Caplan, Jay Chou, Sanaa Lathan, Michael Caine, Morgan Freeman, David Warshofsky, Tsai Chin, Ben Lamb, William Henderson, Richard Laing, & Henry Lloyd-Hughes. Color, Rated PG-13, 129 minutes.
Although this movie takes place one year after the first installment, it’s been three years since the first one was released. For those who did not see the previous film, a little background information may be necessary. (For the full review of the first film, click here.)
Four incomparable amateur magicians are formed into a team by an unknown benefactor and call themselves the “Four Horsemen:” J. Daniel Atlas (Eisenberg), Merritt McKinney (Harrelson), Jack Wilder (Franco), and Henley Reeves (Fisher). They perform in an elaborate Las Vegas show funded by Arthur Tressler (Caine) and their final trick is to empty the vault of the Crédit Republicain Bank in Paris of its recent delivery of euros and then shower the Las Vegas crowd with the money. FBI agent Dylan Rhodes (Ruffalo) is assigned to investigate them. He turns to former magician, now magic debunker, Thaddeus Bradley (Freeman) for help. In a later spectacular trick, they steal millions of dollars from Tressler’s private account and plant the money on Bradley, thus landing him in jail as well as making an enemy of Tressler. We learn that Dylan is the son of famous magician Lionel Shrike and he leads them to an elite and secretive group of magicians called The Eye.
A year later, Henley Reeves has left the infamous quartet and the remaining three are keeping under the public radar. But nature abhors a vacuum and illusionist Lula (Caplan) finds Atlas begging to be the fourth (and first woman) horseman. Dylan, still working for the FBI, and still unknown as the fifth horseman, inducts her into the group with a special mission. It seems that Owen Case (Lamb) has created a major bit of malware which can steal identities not only from computers, but from phones and other electronic devices. The Four Horsemen are assigned to discredit him. However, in the middle of their presentation, the scheme is thwarted by a mysterious intruder and the four run for their escape plan.
But instead of winding up in the truck they had waiting for them, they wake up in Macao. Asian thugs lead them to Walter Mabry (Radcliffe). Not only is he the one whose high-tech brilliance interrupted their show, but he’s the illegitimate son of Arthur Tressler. He wants the chip from Owen Cases’ machine (which just happens to be the same size as a standard playing card) for his own corporation’s uses.
Meanwhile, Deputy Director Natalie Austin (Lathan) and Dylan are seeking out the Four Horsemen to eventually arrest them, but the group’s public appeal as modern day Robin Hoods make it extremely difficult. Dylan breaks Bradley out of prison and, following the clues, wind up in Macao, where Bradley vanishes.
The first movie was spectacular, but the sequel easily outdoes it. There are several “Wow” moments, great dialogue, superb special effects, acting that makes you care about the characters and a super soundtrack. It was like watching a Penn and Teller show with a fantastic Mission Impossible story (virtually all the tricks performed are explained). It opens with the back-story between Dylan and Bradley when Young Dylan (Henderson) witnesses the death of his father, Lionel Shrike (Laing) in his final illusion – escaping an inescapable safe at the bottom of a river. Morgan Freeman’s performance was so slick you didn’t know if he was a bad guy or a good one. Daniel Radcliffe makes a greasy villain as compared with Michael Caine’s suave exterior. And I loved Lizzy Caplan as the new member of the team. She provides a lot of the comic relief, but you know she’s dead serious. And Woody Harrelson gets to play two parts, as the serious Merritt McKinney and his wacky twin brother, Chase.
I didn’t see any children in the audience but I’m sure they would be amazed, even without the first film. The language is kept clean almost throughout (only one goof and it’s a small one) and the short violent scene is bloodless. I came out of the theater almost tired. That’s entertainment!
Casual is this Irish pub with the unusual menu items from Asian places. If you can’t locate The Perfect Pint by the pint-shaped neon sign three stories over the door, you might find it with the six-foot-high, three-dimensional one just above the faux-thatched awning over the entrance.
Once inside, I confirmed my reservation with the hostess and she led me upstairs to a long, cozy room with perhaps 20 tables total. I sat at a central table about midway in the room and chose to face the bar. A true pub, none of the tables had tablecloths, but there were both charcoal and cream colored cloth napkins.
With a selection of 40 brews on tap, I was not about to order a cocktail. With Meabh, my server, I chose a three-course meal and the order in which each dish was to come. To start I chose The Perfect Pint Irish Red. This red beer had the creamy flavor and minimum bite for a refreshing start to my meal.
As I mentioned before The Perfect Pint is an unusual pub in that interesting Asian dishes are mixed in with the standard Irish pub food. For my first course I chose the chicken lemon grass dumplings with ponzu (soy based) dipping sauce.
The dumplings were light, tender and aromatic with ginger and only a light flavor of the lemon grass. With it was a sprinkling of what only could be called kim chee, but not as spicy as the Koreans would make it. It was remarkable. With it, I chose the Magners “Angry Orchard” beer, boasting that 17 varieties of apple go into its brewing. It delivered the apple experience in spades.
I had considered the Newcastle Brown Ale to be perfect with my second course, the Irish onion soup – caramelized onions, stout, chicken broth, sage derby croutons and, of course cheese. It is sweeter and less salty than French onion soup and uses mozzarella instead of gruyere. The sage and the stout made it uniquely delicious.
On to the main course: crazy plum shrimp lo mein. I found it to be unlike any lo mein I’ve ever had in a Chinese restaurant; more like the Vietnamese would make it. The noodles were almost translucent with julienned green, red and yellow bell peppers, and the sauce was both spicy and sweet. The shrimp were cooked to that crunchy tenderness shrimp lovers enjoy.
To accompany it I chose Duvel Green – a full-flavored Belgian golden ale. Its spicy after taste almost interfered with the dish but it was an exciting combination.
Meabh then asked me what would my next choice of beer would be before dessert. I chose Hoegaarden – a white, Belgian wheat beer, spiced and fermented in the medieval fashion. It was rich, hoppy, and almost malty, but a good precursor to dessert.
While the Irish cream cheesecake was tempting, the Mississippi mud pie won me over. In addition to the rich, dark chocolate topping the normally cocoa/chocolate filling was imbued with Bailey’s Irish Cream and Jameson, making it irresistible on a chocolate, graham cracker crust.
Meabh was ready with my check, but I saw that they had specialty coffees. I asked if could have a cup of regular coffee. “Yes.” And I noticed that there were two single-malt scotches I’ve never tasted, Clynelish and Middleton. I ordered them both. Meabh identified which was which and I started my comparison. The Clynelish is smooth and unassuming, a good scotch for the non-scotch-drinker. The Midleton was my favored one; it had the character and the slight bite of a good scotch.
When I had paid the check and was ready to leave I asked Meabh how long the two Perfect Pints (there’s one on the East Side as well) have been in business and she responded, six years. I had a great time and I look forward to the chance of dining there again and trying more ales or beers.
Warcraft By Steve Herte
Warcraft(Universal, 2016) – Director: Duncan Jones. Writers: Duncan Jones, Charles Levitt (s/p), Chris Metzen (story & characters). Stars: Travis Flimmel, Paula Patton, Ben Foster, Dominic Cooper, Toby Kebbell, Ben Schnetzer, Robert Kazinsky, Clancy Brown, Daniel Wu, Ruth Nega, Anna Galvin, Callum Keith Rennie, Burkeley Duffield, Ryan Robbins, Michael Adamthwaite, & Dean Redman. Color, 3D, PG-13, 123 minutes.
It seems more and more movies are coming out inspired by video games. Some really do not need to be made. This movie is one of them.
The problem with making a movie based on a video game is that of translation: will those who have not played the game be able to understand what is going on? Unfortunately, in this case, no. The film comes off as a sort of Tolkien-Lite (with a little Star Wars mythology added along the way), stealing his concept of Orcs, which are described as larger than goblins, hideous, warlike and not very bright. They are led by as spiky green shaman named Gul’dan (Wu), who wields a magical power known as “the fel,” which has the ability to drain or instill the life force within its victim. Because their world has been destroyed by some form of apocalypse, Gul’dan has opened a portal for his warriors to run through, beginning a war with a world called Azeroth, home to humans, elves, dwarves, and much more, though in this movie we’re mainly introduced to the humans.
Along the way, Gul’dan is busy subjugating other Orc clans to his will, such as the Winter Wolf Clan, led by Durotan (Kebbell) and his mate Drakka (Galvin). They are quick to figure out that Gul’dan is not only the cause of the devastation of Draenor, their homeland, but that the magic power he wields, “the Fel,” is evil. Later they will join the forces of Azeroth in opposing the evil warlord.
The human kingdoms in Azeroth are led by King Llane Wrynn (Cooper), his faithful warrior sidekick, Anduin Lothar (Fimmel), and the Guardian Magna Medivh (Foster). When Lothar learns of the Orc invasion, he along with the Dwarf King Magni Bronzebeard (Adamthwaite) urge King Wrynn to summon Medivh to stem the threat. After a quick flight to Karazhan, Medivh is enlisted and brought to Azeroth, Llane is convinced and a scouting party is formed.
The scouting party is beset by orcs and saved though the magic of Khadgar (Schnetzer), a wizard who abandoned his monk-like order. They capture a half-breed orc/human named Garona (Patton). Knowing Gul’dan is evil, she convinces Lothar and Llane to meet with Durotan to join forces against Gul’dan. But working against them is the fact that Medivh has been perverted by the fel and is working for the orcs. As the movie continued, I had the feeling that the plot was not headed for a resolution so much as a sequel.
The problem with Warcraft, as mentioned above, is that it’s directed to those who are serious and frequent players of the video game. Director Duncan Jones – son of the late, great David Bowie – who previously made the excellent Moon and Source Code, is better as director than co-writer, as the battle sequences are far more accomplished than any of the scenes in which characters stand around spouting various inanities concerning the fel.
Like so much of the fantasy jargon employed in the film, there’s absolutely no wider explanation of what it is or how it works; it’s just assumed that the audience should understand what’s going on. The film’s characters spout monologues about the “Guardian of Tirisfal” or the rules of ancient orcish battle rituals. The result is that things quickly become hopelessly muddled, and it’s impossible to keep track of what’s going on.
One of the most annoying irritating aspects the film to me was that it plunged me right into its plot without a concern for those, like me, who have never played the game. The characters just begin talking about even more creatures I haven’t yet met. A good movies gives out its information carefully, trusting that those who don’t quite get what’s going on will be able to catch up without too much time having passed. Warcraft feels like it should be accompanied by a guide explaining what it’s all about.
Unlike Tolkien and unlike other fantasies, this video game adaptation has veritably no comic relief. We yearn for a wisecracking character like Han Solo to relieve the tension and the seriousness. The lightest moment in the movie is when Lothar is holding Durotan’s head by the hair with a short sword to his neck, threatening to kill him if his mount, an enormous, snarling white wolf, does not back off. It does, and Lothar says, “Too bad. It would have made a nice coat.” Other than that, there is no lessening of the direness of the situation.
On the good side, though there is gratuitous violence throughout, the gore factor is at a minimum, even when heads are crushed or removed. Parents, judge accordingly. The 3D effects are excellent and the action scenes are not dizzying. But seriously, the Mystery Science Theater 3000 team would have a field day with this film. The fact that the orcs’ hands were twice the size of their heads made me think of Wreck-It Ralph. At one point, the plot turns Biblical when Drakka, seeing no other option, commits her child to the river in a basket. (I’ll bet he’s renamed “Moses” or something similar.) Yes, there will be a sequel. Sure, why not? Hollywood has no new ideas and there are five chapters to the original sequence of Warcraft games.
Located along a lonely stretch of Greenwich Street, two blocks from Canal, is Azabu. The restaurant is one step up from the sidewalk, identified only by a white sign with its name. A sign on the door reads, “Open the green door to the left.” There are three. I tried two wrong ones until I found the correct one.
Once inside, it’s a golden, simply decorated place with seven butcher-block tables on one wall and an eight-seat sushi bar on the other. Behind the sushi bar were two chefs busily working in front of a lighted, smoky lucite panel whose only decoration was a pictograph of a carp/catfish. The faux bamboo ceiling added to the Zen atmosphere.
I was cheerily greeted by Su, whom I had spoken to on the phone confirming my arrival. She directed me to one of the only two open tables and I sat on the cushioned banquette facing the sushi bar.
Looking over the menu I noticed that, contrary to the information I gleaned online, the restaurant does not serve cocktails. Su explained that since they “lost” (she didn’t elaborate) the upper floor (meaning the ground level) they had to simplify their menu as well as eliminate the more complex cocktails. She recommended the sake, of which there were at least nine varieties. With her help, I chose one that turned out to be very nice; understated, but promising not to interfere with the flavors to come, and at the same time having potency.
Again with Su’s help, I was able to chart out a three-course meal that began with Wagyu Tataki (seared Wagyu beef with onions and a soy dipping sauce). For those not familiar with Wagyu, it’s as excellent and succulent as Kobe beef but with more marbling and more flavor. The bite-sized pieces of meat were served on a bed of thinly sliced white onions resting on a banana leaf in the long narrow opalescent platter. It’s a good thing chopsticks force you to eat slowly. I could easily have finished this dish in a minute.
Next came a six-piece sushi platter, consisting of O-Toro, the much-prized bright red fatty tuna (delightful and sweet), Kohadaa (Gizzard Shad, which was salty, not as sweet as the tuna, and a little denser in texture), Awabi (Abalone, which I first had at Foxwoods; once you try it you’ll be hooked.), and two Uni (Sea Urchin) from two areas of Hokkaido (believe it or not, there was a difference in flavor, with one being slightly sweeter than the other.) Last on the plate was Anago (Conger Eel), the only sushi served marinated in soy sauce. I love eel any way you prepare it and this was no exception.
I would like to call the next dish my main course from the way Su described it: Grilled King Crab with crab butter. Prying the crab meat loose with chopsticks was relatively easy. But calling the heavenly dressing simply “crab butter” was insulting to the herbal, rich flavor I received from this remarkable topping. The crab meat was perfect and tender and the whole experience was transporting.
I was still hungry, so I had Su bring back the menu (I believe she took it when we thought I was through ordering). I chose the Shiso Kanpachi Roll, a California style roll (rice on the outside). Six pieces were served on a shiny oval plate rimmed in gold and were comprised of Yellowtail, pickled radish and shiso leaf (a fragrant member of the mint family). Topping each piece with a dab of wasabi (hot Japanese horseradish) I alternated between sushi and slices of ginger and sips of sake. Very good.
I asked Su about dessert and she cited various ice creams, sorbets and gelatos. I chose a combination of green tea and strawberry ice cream. Green tea, like red bean ice cream, is an acquired taste and I acquired it a long time ago. Such intense tea flavor! It outclassed the strawberry (usually my favorite) by a long shot and I told Su. No, they don’t make their desserts on site, they get them from a distributor who is very particular about the flavors.
Su’s only faux-pas was assuming I was finished then. She brought the check. There was no indication of any hot tea on the menu – odd for a Japanese restaurant. I had her bring back the drinks menu because I remembered “flavored sakes” as a category. I chose a glass of spicy plum flavored sake, thinking “how in the world could plum wine be spicy?” It was. The pinkish-orange beverage in the tall thin stemmed glass had a nice spicy kick to it.
Azabu may be in a lonely spot, they may have “lost” their ground floor, but it’s a gem to be found. A little on the expensive side, but when you consider that the fish is flown in fresh from Japan daily and the expertise of the staff, it’s worth it.
Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Out of the Shadows By Steve Herte
Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Out of the Shadows(Paramount, 2016) – Director: Dave Green. Writers: Josh Applebaum, Andre Nemec (s/p); Peter Laird, Kevin Eastman (characters). Stars: Megan Fox, Will Arnett, Laura Linney, Stephen Amell, Noel Fisher, Jeremy Howard, Pete Ploszek, Alan Ritchson, Tyler Perry, Brian Tee, Stephen Farrelly, Gary Anthony Williams, Peter Donald Badalamenti II, Tony Shalhoub, & Brad Garrett. Color and 3D, Rated PG-13, 112 minutes.
The second installment of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles is full of action, has scenes for those who love explosions, is perfectly voice-cast, and equal parts comedy and drama.
In the first movie two years ago, we learned how four normal turtles and a rat became mutations from a lab experiment gone wrong and how the scientist’s daughter, April O’Neil (Fox), saved them from the fire by releasing them into the New York sewer system. It was also April who named them: Michelangelo (Fisher), Donatello (Howard), Leonardo (Ploszek), and Raphael (Ritchson). They keep to the shadows of night, as advised by their master trainer, Splinter (voiced by Shalhoub).
Now, two years later, master criminal Shredder (Tee) is being readied for transfer into maximum security prison. With him are two lesser criminals, Bebop (Williams) and Rocksteady (Farrelly). Through April’s news reporting, the Turtles learn of this transfer. Donatello, the brains of the group, correctly concludes that the gang is hatching an escape plan. They board their high-tech garbage truck and race off to intercept the security detail, which is already under siege by ninjas riding motorcycles.
Shredder has found a component of an alien machine that creates a transport portal. As soon as he is freed, he disappears into it. On the other side, Shredder meets the monstrous alien Krang (Garrett), who convinces him to obtain the other two components, one located in the Museum of Natural History and the other is in the jungles of Brazil. To assemble the device, he needs the brilliant, but mad, scientist Baxter Stockman (Perry). Together, they will rule the world.
In need of accomplices with plenty of brawn but not too much intelligence, Shredder hijacks Bebop and Rocksteady from their favorite bar and brings them to Stockman’s laboratory. Dr. Stockman has developed a mutagen that “brings out the inner animal” in people and the two are forcibly injected and are transformed into an anthropomorphic warthog and rhinoceros. Strangely enough, though, Bebop retains his purple Mohawk hairstyle. What they don’t know is that April is hiding in the lab and swipes a vial of the mutagen. A chase scene later, the vial is in police hands, but one of the syringes makes it to turtle central.
Donatello’s analysis of the mutagen leads to the conclusion that, engineered correctly, it could transform them into normal people. He and Leonardo keep this a secret from Raphael and Michelangelo. But the latter two figure it out and are insulted by their brothers’ lack of trust. They convince April and Casey Jones to help them break into police headquarters and get the vial. With the added assistance of Vernon Fenwick (Arnett), who received the key to the city for “single-handedly catching Shredder” the first time, under the alias “The Falcon,” they make it in. But so have Shredder’s people. Chief Vincent (Linney) arrests April and Casey when they allow the turtles to escape.
Time is not on the turtles’ side. Shredder easily gets the second component from the planetarium and, by the time Donatello figures out that the next stop is Brazil, Bebop and Rocksteady are returning with the third component at the same time as they are flying south.
To understand their lack of coordination, keep in mind that these kung fu adept reptiles are still teenagers. For the rest of the film, Leonardo has to regain his brothers’ trust if he’s going to lead them as a team against an alien who is constructing a death-star-like machine arriving piece by piece through an open wormhole in the New York City sky.
The element of cartoon, however, is never lost. Knowing it’s obvious that no one can get seriously hurt, we enjoy the almost slap-stick horseplay and battles. Kids will love it. And the 3D effects were finally used to full potential: for example, a tank cannon is fired directly at the audience. Overall, it was an improvement on the first movie, which was lame in comparison. Even the soundtrack was light hearted, ranging from “Long Cool Woman in a Black Dress” by the Hollies to “Ice Ice Baby” by Vanilla Ice, to “Spirit in the Sky” by Norman Greenbaum, and, of course the “Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles” television theme song during the credits.
Usually when I choose a restaurant, I go to their website to get a feel for the place, the décor, and the lighting as well as the menu. But I chose Serenata, sight unseen, by its beautiful written menu.
A terra cotta banner with the name in bold white script hangs over a green awning with red and white stripes, which shades the black-framed glass entrance. Inside, the walls are covered in brightly colored murals. The open kitchen was right in front of me and was tucked into a corner of the dining area. The dark wood chairs are cushioned and comfortable and all tables have white cloths and napkins with colorful placemats and attractive red glass votive candle holders.
When I was seated, my server, Ibanez, handed me the menu and the wine and drinks list. Though it was not dark in the restaurant, the font was just a little small and it took some adjustment to read them.
I told Ibanez that I would like a cocktail and chose the Mexican Mule – Tequila Cazadores (100% blue agave), lime juice, simple syrup, and ginger beer, served in what looked like a Mason jar with a handle. It had an intriguing taste like a sweet margarita with a Caribbean twist.
Ibanez helped me to construct a three-course meal, beginning with the queso fundido – literally, melted Chihuahua cheese, with pico de gallo, corn tortillas and chorizo or vegetable upon request. I chose the chorizo. The little black iron skillet held my cheese and sausage mixture. Next to it was a cloth party-popper filled with eight soft corn tortillas and next to that was the pico de gallo sauce. The sauce name means “beak of the rooster” and refers to the spicy taste as likened to being pecked by a chicken. The portion was very good, not too much, the flavor was amazing, and it wasn’t as filling as I had expected.
I had read earlier that the chef of Serenata has as his main objective making Mexican food healthy, such as including edamame in the guacamole upon request. Vegetables come with most dishes, rice is only a side and refried beans only accompany three menu items.
Next I chose the pescado (fish) ceviche – striped bass marinated in lime juice, leche de tigre (literally tiger’s milk, referring to the liquid that remains after the ceviche is finished), potato cream sauce, salmon caviar, and chile manzano aiol (a yellow chili pepper about twice as spicy as a jalapeno mixed with garlic). Served in a long black dish, it was vinegary, sweet, salty and delightfully fresh and crunchy with small round crackers mixed in. The manzano was not as spicy as I expected, but added a nice kick.
I told Ibanez to hold off serving the wine until the main course. It was now time. The 2012 “Redemption” Zinfandel from Dry Creek Valley Vineyards, Sonoma California was full-bodied to the point of being husky. The bold flavor of the rich dark red not only accented the meal, it amplified the flavors.
It was a perfect choice for my next course, enchiladas suizas de huitlacoche – fresh huitlacoche (a fungus that grows on corn and has a similar earthy flavor and texture to a truffle), onions, corn, epazote (an herb that adds a musky flavor to food), Oaxaca cheese, and creamy tomatillo sauce. This beautiful dish had the three pale green enchiladas, more than likely green from the epazote, drizzled with the cheese and accented by the tomatillo sauce. Finely chopped tomatoes, peppers and cheese on top form the base for a decorative purple flower much like a clover blossom. It looked like the Mexican flag on a plate. But it was so much better to eat.
When the wine was finished, it was time for dessert. I had a choice of churros or tres leches, one of my favorites. Vanilla ice cream on a crispy meringue with a milk cracker leaning over it. A string of chocolate beads was lined up at the side of the bowl on a thread of raspberry sauce as a garnish.
For one of the few times I can remember, I did not have coffee or tea. Something else caught my attention at the beginning: The Mole Margarita – herradura añejo tequila, St. Germain liquor, mole (spicy chocolate), mole bitters, sparkling rosé, and a walnuts “power rim” on the glass. Basically, a spicy, chocolatey after-dinner drink.
Instead of a business card, Serenata had a tripartite folded take-out menu with all their business information on it as well. It will serve as a reminder to return for more culinary adventures.
Alice Through the Looking Glass By Steve Herte
I can’t understand how people say they’re bored when they retire. There’s always something to do around a house or even an apartment. With the warm weather came the responsibilities that my Dad used to assume. Now they’re mine. It’s remarkable how fast grass grows when the conditions are right. I’ll never say “about as exciting as watching grass grow” again. Not now that it’s up to me to mow it. And then there’s always something that breaks and a minor repair is in order. I just don’t think I’ll be bored when I do retire. As long as I can keep up my lifestyle at the same time. Karaoke, movies and dining out are a part of me. Enjoy!
Alice Through the Looking Glass(Disney 2016) – Director: James Bobin. Writers: Linda Wolverton (s/p), Lewis Carroll (books). Stars: Johnny Depp, Mia Wasikowska, Helena Bonham Carter, Anne Hathaway, Sacha Baron Cohen, Rhys Ifans, Matt Lucas, Lindsay Duncan, Leo Bill, Geraldine James, Andrew Scott, Richard Armitage, Ed Speelers, Stephen Frye, Alan Rickman (voice), Timothy Spall, Paul Whitehouse, Michael Sheen, Wally Wingert, & Barbara Windsor. Color, Rated PG, 113 minutes.
It was a long time ago that I read Alice in Wonderland, but I never got to the sequel and thus cannot confirm or deny anything I saw in this remarkable movie. All the characters I remember from Lewis Carroll were there with the exception that now they have names. Alice Kingsleigh (Wasikowska) is a skilled ship’s captain of the appropriately named “Wonder” who evades three pirate ships in the Straits of Malacca by going full sail in a storm and tipping over sideways through a shallow gap in the deadly shoals. This is 1875 and it’s her father’s ship, otherwise no one would hire a female captain.
She comes home to her mother Helen (Duncan) only to learn that her devious and spoiled cousin Hamish (Bill) has convinced Helen to sell her shares in the family company to him, and now they have the choice of giving up the ship or their home. Though uninvited, they attend a gala thrown by Hamish and his snooty new wife Lady Ascot (James) to hopefully discuss terms. Alice doesn’t help her case by wearing a gown which would be the height of fashion in China, but is only frowned upon by all the guests as a carnival clown costume.
Unable to change Hamish’s mind and disappointed in her mother’s lack of support (suggesting that a clerk’s job is more than a woman could hope for in 1875), Alice storms off and hears her name spoken by a blue butterfly. It’s none other than Absolem, formerly the Smoking Caterpillar (Rickman). He informs her that Hatter Tarrant Hightopp (Depp) is madder than ever (in a bad way) and needs her to help find his family. But weren’t they all killed by the fearsome Jabberwock? (For some reason they add the “y” at the end of the creature’s name.) Alice follows Absolem through a mirror to Wonderland, where she’s directed to open a door and to mind her first step, for it’s a lulu.
From high above, she plummets through a flowering tree, arriving with a plop at the Mad Hatter’s Tea Party. There she is welcomed by her friends Mirana the White Queen (Hathaway), Tweedledee and Tweedledum (both Lucas), Bayard the dog (Spall), Thackery the March Hare (Whitehouse), McTwisp the White Rabbit (Sheen), the Cheshire Cat (Frye), and Mallymkum the Dormouse (Windsor). The Hatter is locked in his hat-shaped house, but he opens it to Alice and the two come to believe that a travel back in time would save Tarrant’s family.
Mirana tells Alice that in order to time travel, she needs the Chonosphere owned by Time (Cohen) himself, but the journey is very dangerous. It isn't for our Alice, the sea captain. She agrees and finds out that Time is making overtures to Iracebeth (Carter) the Queen of Hearts and Mirana’s sister, who only wants the Chronosphere for herself and her greater power. Her adventures include bumping into Humpty Dumpty (Wingert), causing him to fall off the chess table and break on the floor (again, he says). And, appropriately, all the king’s horses and all the king’s men (from the chessboard, of course) set to the task of reassembling Humpty. The most important thing Alice learns is from Time himself: you cannot change the past, you can only learn from it. After several mishaps in time, this finally gets through to her when Iracebeth gets control of the Chronosphere and nearly destroys Underland by confronting herself in a horrendous time anomaly.
It’s a tale of many morals, belief in real friendship, that sometimes the impossible really is just that, and the importance of family. The special effects in 3D were almost like a drug trip in this film. Sailing across the oceans of time was exactly that, oceans both above and below. The script, which could have been written by Lewis Carroll himself, was cleverly funny in several places.
Congratulations to Johnny Depp in not mumbling his lines too often. Though this is a Disney production, Alice is quite the opposite character from the prim cartoon Alice in the gingham dress. The animation is beautiful and the voice match-ups excellent. Anne Hathaway was close to being over-the-top as the White Queen. (I almost expected her to start giggling like Billie Burke as Glinda.) Helena Bonham Carter, however, is great as the Queen of Hearts; at times performing a Bette Davis cover.
Though there were no characters I could identify with (well, maybe the Cheshire Cat), the characters were all believably done and I would have liked to meet any one of them (including the Jabberwock). Alice Through the Looking Glass is squeaky clean from a language and gore point of view. There are only a few intense scenes, but most kids today can handle them. The ones in my audience were imperturbable. It’s an exciting movie with no dead space and no jarring anomalies. Even the soundtrack kept its place and was non-intrusive. I enjoyed it, and as soon as I can, I’m reading the book.
The name of this restaurant intrigued me from the first. An “osteria” is an informal eatery featuring a long counter displaying prepared meats and cheeses. Principe means “prince” in Italian. So which is it: Fit for a commoner or for royalty?
Inside, the cherry-wood tables and oak-paneled walls kept the sleek look. The right side of the restaurant is dominated by the immense counter lined with modern, oak wood stools. Beyond a gauzy curtain at the end of the counter, one can see the party room or main dining area. I was seated at a table midway across from the counter and in direct view of appetizingly displayed meats.
Placemats with the restaurant logo have replaced tablecloths, but the votive candle was very real, as was the glassware, and the brown cloth napkin. Soon, my server, Carlotta, arrived reciting the specials of the day, all of which sounded wonderful. Carlotta is not just a server., but also a passionate foodie and a professional promoter of the dishes made by Osteria del Principe.
I perused both the menu and the drinks and wine list. When she returned I ordered a grapito cocktail. To imagine this cocktail, think of a mojito. Then replace the tequila with grappa and the mint with basil. It was a fascinating flavor and definitely an acquired taste.
Carlotta explained that the company hails from the Trieste Area of Northern Italy on the Adriatic Coast and the dishes reflect that regional influence. The way she enthused about food almost made me want to talk with her more, but then, I wouldn’t get to eat. I gave her my choices and she lit up my table with her smile and was off to submit the order.
First was the bresaola – a beautiful 14-inch diameter glass plate of thinly sliced, air dried salted beef with shaved bella lodi cheese, cherry tomatoes and arugula in a lemon/olive oil dressing. The tomatoes were cherry-sized and hidden under the beef at the center of the plate. They were deep red, sweet and fresh. I asked Carlotta if they were locally grown and she confirmed my suspicion.
I realized I had forgotten to select a wine. I chose the 2012 Pinot Nero “Red Angel on the Moonlight” from Jermann vineyards, Venezia Giulia, Italy. Carlotta mentioned that my next course would be perfect with it.
She was right. The lasagna alla bolognese was not like any I’ve ever had. The house-made pasta was thinly layered with beef ragu and béchamel sauce, and graced with the flavors of rosemary and marjoram. The square of baked pasta was crisp around the edges, had grated cheese on top and a world of savory flavor inside. I noted the extra virgin olive oil made especially for the restaurant.
The main course displayed the Triestina influence with neighboring countries: Ljubljanska (pronounced Lee-oob-Yahn-skah) – veal, pounded thin, filled with ham and cheese, breaded, and pan-fried and served with salad and fried polenta. The dish, named after a town in Slovenia, was better than any schnitzel or scaloppini I’ve ever had. As with the lasagna, the crispy parts were just as good as the tender center. The wine helped and made additional flavor accents with it.
Carlotta then presented me with the dessert list. I had seen one of the desserts at the next table. It was the millefoglie (a thousand leaves) – pastry covered in mascarpone cheese and studded with strawberry pieces. Though it was tempting, I asked Carlotta about the cheese platter. “Only two cheeses?” “I’ll get you more,” she replied. In fact, she brought five: Asiago D’Allevo, Fontina, Bella Lodi, Taleggio, and Gorgonzola, accompanied by a raspberry sauce, sliced green apples and honey as palate cleansers.
Of course, a double espresso is de rigueur after a dessert like that, but Carlotta informed me that the bar stocked Strega, which I preferred. This restaurant that was previously an enigma passed every test I usually present to an Italian place.
If that weren’t enough, Carlotta brought over these lovely chocolate drops filled with grappa. Again, not for just anyone’s tastes but perfect for me. I can’t wait to return, if not for Carlotta’s food passion, but for the special gnocchi and those prosciuttos.
Elvis & Nixon By
& Nixon(Bleecker Street Media, 2016) –
Director: Liza Johnson. Writers: Joey Sagal, Hanala Sagal & Cary
Elwes (s/p). Stars: Kevin Spacey, Michael Shannon, Alex Pettier,
Johnny Knoxville, Colin Hanks, Evan Peters, Sky Ferreira, Tracy
Letts, Tate Donovan, Ashley Benson, Kamal Angelo Bolden, Ahna
O’Reilly, Ian Hoch, Ritchie Montgomery, & Nathalie Love. Color,
Rated R, 86 minutes.
It’s December of
and Elvis Presley (Shannon) is sitting in his television room at
Graceland. Several screens are tuned to various news programs and
show protests, drug busts, and hippies burning the American flag.
Elvis takes out a pistol, shoots the nearest television and shuts the
Like a teleprompter
typing a script for a newscaster, we see words explaining that this
month, Elvis went to the White House and spent a few hours with
President Richard Nixon (Spacey). But no one knows what the
conversation was like as it occurred behind closed doors. This clever
film posits a possible scenario.
Elvis has just come
off a major tour and his love of all things American fuels his zeal
to destroy the “drug culture” that is destroying the youth of his
homeland. He decides to fly to Los Angeles and see his best friend
Jerry Schilling (Pettyfer) and reunite with Sonny West (Knoxville) to
hopefully arrange a meeting with the deputy director of the Federal
Bureau of Narcotics and Dangerous Drugs John Finlator (Letts) to
volunteer as an undercover agent at large. But first he has to get on
a plane from Tennessee. Though star struck when she first sees Elvis,
Margaret the ticket agent (Benson) for American Airlines is
appropriately terrified when he reveals he’s packing a sidearm.
He’s held by security until Jerry can talk them out of this
Though Jerry is
reluctant to be “back in the business,” Elvis talks him into
going to Washington, D.C., where Sonny joins them at their hotel.
The visit to
Finlator proves futile and disappointing and the FBI is not an
option. The next step is the president himself. Elvis writes his
introductory letter to the president on the plane ride and soon,
Jerry drives him to the west gate of the White House. There, the
guards restrain their amazement at who’s visiting to do their job,
but are eventually sweet-talked into delivering the letter. When it
gets to presidential advisers Egil Krogh (Hanks) and Dwight Chapin
(Peters) and verified by White House Chief of Staff H. R. Haldeman
(Donovan), they are ecstatic at what a visit from Elvis would mean to
But Nixon nixes the
idea of talking with a “rock and roller.” It’s not until Krogh
and Chapin meet with Sonny and Jerry at “an undisclosed Washington,
D.C., location” that the idea of contacting Nixon’s daughter
Julie and that’s the key that unlocks the door to the Oval Office.
Nixon is a subtle comedy of the meeting between two huge
egos and what they could have talked about. Kevin Spacey’s
portrayal of Richard Nixon is frankly amazing. Though the caricature
is close visually, his mannerisms and vocal accents make the role
believable. Michael Shannon’s Elvis has Johnny Cash overtones but
still is very convincing.
There is a funny
scene at the Los Angeles International Airport where an Elvis
impersonator mistakes Elvis to be a fellow impersonator and he
demonstrates how he should act. Shannon applauds him and, as Elvis
would, accepts the advice without correcting the error. And yes, just
once, he says, “Thank you. Thank you very much.” Alex Pettyfer is
wonderful as Jerry, a man who now has a life, a girl he wants to
marry – Charlotte (Ferreira) – and a date he wants to keep with
her parents. He manages to effectively juggle this situation with his
deep friendship with Elvis until finally, Presley releases him to his
Aside from a few “F”
bombs – two from Nixon and two from Krogh – the dialogue in this
film is clean and well written. The script never verges on the
incredible and the humor never gets silly. The whole concept of Elvis
deeming himself capable of going around unnoticed and undercover is
the main cause for laughter in the movie, especially when he wears an
enormous gold belt into the Oval Office.
The end credits
reveal what happened to each character afterward, the Watergate
scandal and its results, and states “Elvis never went undercover.”
I enjoyed Elvis and Nixon and hope it plays in more
theaters (only two in Manhattan a week after opening). It’s a good
film about the most requested photo from the National Archives: Nixon
and Elvis shaking hands (and David's computer screensaver).
Somehow I thought
this restaurant was a lot older than it is. In fact, the blue
pinstriped awning only went up in June of 2014, a little less than
one and a half years ago. Owner Keith McNally named it after the
left-bank street in Paris where he once lived; a street famous in
1847 for a military prison built there. The name ChercheMidi means
to search for midday. It comes from the popular French phrase, Elle
cherche midi à quatorze heurs” – searching for noon at two
in the afternoon. It's a way of explaining that a person makes a
situation more difficult than it has to be. But there’s nothing
easier than dining at Cherche Midi.
The entrance on
Bowery Street leads straight to the Captain’s Station where my
reservation was confirmed, I was seated by the window to the street
and sat on a red leather banquette with my back to the wall. The room
is spacious and lit with a golden glow from the globes suspended from
the ceiling. The octagonal-tiled floor harkens back to a simpler time
and the gigantic wine rack is made even more formidable by
well-placed mirrors. The effect is calming: this is a place to meet,
talk and dine in comfort.
When I was settled
in, my server John greeted me and, after listing the specials, asked
if I wanted a cocktail. I chose “The Ol’ Sour cocktail,” a
mixture of Maker’s Mark Cask Strength bourbon, cognac, génépy (an
herbal liqueur from the Alpine regions that, like absinthe, is made
from wormwood), sweet vermouth, and a lemon twist. I like bourbon and
I loved this drink. It had a subtler, “greener” tang to it and a
After a brief
session with John over the size of certain dishes, I was ready to
order. Before he left he asked if I wanted bread. “What’s a meal
without bread?” I said, and soon there was a lovely basket of bread
The first course was
crispy tête de cochon (pig’s head), three croquettes
stuffed with extremely tender pork and flavored with grain mustard on
a platter with pickled vegetables (cauliflower, wild mushrooms, red
onions) providing color as well as a contrasting taste.
When I saw that the
restaurant served Zinfandel by the glass, I ordered the 2013 Three
Valley Zinfandel, from Ridge Vineyards in Sonoma County California.
It was a delicious, full-bodied red with a fruity nose and sturdy
aftertaste promising a solid marriage to my meal.
The second course
was the only one not a special, but something I look for in all
“real” French restaurants. The frog’s legs were not served as I
would expect. Instead of the traditional “cuisses” (looking like
little pairs of pants on the plate), the bones were dislocated and
served in a beautiful green garlic velouté with garlic chips and
crisp parsley. It was almost too pretty to eat, but I got over that.
Next came the
pan-roasted halibut over tiny morels with fingerling potatoes and
ramp beurre blanc sauce. When John described this dish he called the
morels “mushrooms,” which is like calling a truffle a fungus.
They are so much more than a mushroom: Their woody flavor melded with
the flaky fish and the savory ramps and butter to create a major
experience rather than “just halibut.”
Although I love
crêpes suzette, the selection of cheeses was too enticing and, when
I saw how they were displayed by the servers, with little name flags
on a silver platter, I knew what my dessert would be. I chose the
Moses Sleeper raw cow cheese from Vermont, the mimolette, a
hard orange cow choose from France and the fragrant bleu Colston
Bassett Stilton. They were served with green apple slices, red
grapes, honey, compote and almost black, toasted baguette slices. It
was Heaven. I was so happy I forgot about an after dinner drink with
my double espresso.
such an excellent, innovative, yet traditional, French restaurant,
Cherche Midi is in rather a strange location, but I’m not
complaining. The prices are reasonable, the service is friendly,
there are at least three other red wines I have to try, and of
course, there’s the fantastic food. As Schwarzenegger once said,
“I’ll be back!”
Captain America: Civil War By Steve Herte
My choice of what movie to see was a no-brainer even though I had my “druthers” about it. After seeing Batman and Superman duke it out I was not ready for an all-out war, but consider the other option – Elvis & Nixon. Hollywood needs ideas. Enjoy!
Captain America: Civil War(Marvel Studios, 2016) – Directors: Anthony Russo, Joe Russo. Writers: Christopher Markus, Stephen McFeely (s/p), Mark Millar (comic book), Joe Simon, Jack Kirby (characters). Stars: Chris Evans, Robert Downey, Jr., Scarlett Johansson, Sebastian Stan, Anthony Mackie, Don Cheadle, Jeremy Renner, Chadwick Boseman, Paul Bettany, Elizabeth Olsen, Paul Rudd, Emily VanCamp, Marisa Tomei, Tom Holland, Daniel Brühl, & Frank Grillo. Color, PG-13, 146 minutes.
The term “hero” certainly has changed, having evolved from a mythical girl’s name to the main protagonist in a drama set against the villain, to something called an “anti-hero,” to this film’s definition. Here we have 10 “enhanced” human beings, each of whom should be a hero and yet, none of them are. Each one believes he or she is doing the right thing, but none of their decisions end well.
How many times does one hit a guy in the head before he goes down for the count? The answer, in this movie, is unlimited times, even with a fist made (literally) of iron. Unless you’re a fan of violent kick-boxing matches, you will get tired of seeing these so-called “good guys” pummeling the living daylights out of each other for two hours and 26 minutes. I, for one, made sure I saw it in a theater with super-comfortable seats. It was still hard to watch.
Even the one “bad guy” isn’t exactly a villain.
The film starts in 1991 with Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier (Stan) being given a string of Russian words that will program him into being a raving, merciless sociopath. He ambushes a Cadillac on a dark country road and kills the elderly couple inside. He opens the trunk revealing a metal briefcase with six mysterious blue packets inside. These he delivers to his master. When he’s not a larcenous lunatic with enhanced strength (and don’t forget that metal fist), he’s good friends with Steve Rogers/Captain America (Evans).
Captain America is still having difficulties wrapping his World War 2 way of thinking around the modern concepts of dealing with crime. His inability to resolve the “no collateral damage” with “use any means to stop the evil” is the main cause of the entitled Civil War.
After the severe destruction and loss of innocent life that were the results in New York, Washington D.C., Sokovia, and most recently, Lagos, Nigeria, several countries complained about The Avengers’ seemingly willy-nilly use of their powers. The United Nations convened and drew up an accord requesting the “enhanced” beings to submit to oversight and control. Tony Stark/Ironman (Downey Jr.) sees the wisdom in this action and he, along with Lieutenant James Rhodes/War Machine (Cheadle), Vision (Bettany), and Wanda Maximoff/Scarlet Witch (Olsen) sign the agreement.
King T’Chaka of Nigeria is a major proponent of this accord, but he is killed by an enormous explosion just outside of United Nations headquarters. His son, T’Challa/Black Panther (Boseman), an enhanced human being himself (surprise), swears to avenge his death. You seriously have to keep a scorecard in this movie. The security cameras reveal that it was the Winter Soldier who set off the bomb.
Captain America does not believe that his good friend Bucky (it comes from his middle name, Buchanan) would such a thing. He, and Sam Wilson/Falcon (Mackie), Natasha Romanoff/Black Widow (Johansson) and Clint Barton/Hawkeye (Renner) disagree with the accord, believing that they are the only hope against super criminals running loose in the world. They recruit Scott Lang/Ant-Man (Rudd) to be a part of their team.
Stark and Rogers are supposedly good friends, but their ideals serve two different goals and their egos are way too inflated to reason with each other. When Captain America and Falcon go off on a hunting trip for the Winter Soldier on their own, Ironman sees it as a break of the accord (which they didn’t sign, mind you) and battle lines are drawn.
Tony sees that his side is one hero short, so he and Wanda pay a visit to the improbable May Parker (Tomei) and even they stare in amazement at how beautiful and young she is (really, this is such a stretch for comic book fans). Their purpose is to recruit her nephew, Peter Parker/Spiderman (Holland). Now the sides are even.
Captain America eventually learns the truth about the 1991 incident, that the blue packets were the means to create six more Winter Soldiers worse than the first and that the couple who were murdered were in fact Howard and Maria Stark, Tony’s parents. But does he discuss this with Tony? No, of course not. And the battle begins.
So who’s the real villain? Again, not a real villain at all. Zemo (Brühl) and his family lived just outside Sokovia before the disastrous upheaval there and he lost everyone. But he’s not evil.
Do you see my perplexity? Everybody deep down inside is good but nobody does the right thing. I was amazed that some people applauded this movie. For me, it just became a same-old, same-old thing. People zipping and zooming around, toppling structures and flinging each other into buildings, groaning in pain, but getting up again for more. It seriously became tiresome.
Chris Evans looks great bulked up in costume, but his wishy-washy acting style makes him dull and uninteresting. I was rooting for Robert Downey Jr. until his pompous, self-interested attitude became intolerable. Elizabeth Olsen was lovely and I wished everyone listened to her character’s reasoning. But then, the movie would only be an hour and a half long. My favorite characters were Paul Bettany (another character with the voice of reason who went unheeded) as Vision and Tom Holland who, though a little younger than I expected, did a great job as the ever-wise-cracking Spiderman (the one truly entertaining character in the film). Look quickly and you’ll see William Hurt as Secretary of State Thaddeus Ross.
Special effects, there were plenty, but nothing eye-popping. The 3D was just used to enhance the story, not to throw anything at the audience. Story? I’m not sure why it had to be that way. Comic book, for sure. Believable, no. Parents, if your child is used to gratuitous violence, they won’t be affected by this movie. If not, judge accordingly. There might be a sequel. You need to stay through the first set of credits to know why.
Thinking about a place I could dine for the day after Cinco de Mayo, I found this promising Spanish/Mexican place in Chelsea only three blocks away from the movie theater. The Five Pineapples is a tiny bar that has just recently opened a new dining area called “El Comedor,” accommodating 12 tables of diners at most.
Inside, the small bar takes up most of the space in the first room with a couple of half-tables squeezed against the wall. The bronze chandelier however, is a nice touch and matches the sconces on the wall behind the bar.The wall behind the banquette where I was sitting is dominated by a huge wall-hanging incorporating weaving with a little macramé, It undulated across the space like dunes in the Sahara and matched the sandy color of the room.
One glance at the menu presented by my server, Georgi, and I realized that this was indeed a Tapas restaurant (several small dishes, no real entrees). She asked if I wanted a cocktail. I chose the Monserrat – Vermut Negre (a bitter herbal wine), Aperol (a bitter orange flavored aperitif), and Cava (a Spanish sparkling wine), garnished with a Spanish olive and brandied kumquat. With two bitter ingredients, it was surprisingly refreshing and fruity and a lovely reddish-gold color.
Georgi told me that most people choose three dishes for their meal, but there were so many interesting selections when the specials were included that I eventually decided on four, telling Georgi that I would be taking my meal one dish at a time.
I started with the picos y taquitos – imported chorizo (a hard Spanish sausage), za’atar (a Middle Eastern spice mixture) marinated manchego cheese, house-made spreadable sausage, artisanal olive oil, and doughnut-shaped breadsticks. Using a knife to spread the menorcan sausage onto the crispy little breadsticks, I experienced a savory, spicy flavor like none before. When I combined a piece of cheese with a piece of chorizo, I was in cold-cut heaven.
My wine was a 2014 blend of equal parts Merlot and Syrah called “Lazarus” (from Somontano in Northern Spain), a deep red with a slightly acid nose. It’s fruity and medium bodied, perfect for a Tapas dinner.
My second course was pinchos moruno – Moorish spiced lamb skewers that are a favorite in Andalusia and Madrid. The two skewers were jammed into a slice of baguette.
Next I had the bomba toledana – “shepherd’s pie” style spiced beef croquettes, topped with habanero vinegar and set in sweet pea sauce. These soft, beefy patties explode in the mouth like small fireworks. Easily the most colorful dish, and although not extremely spicy, the spice is there.
Having once tried my hand at fishing, the title of the next dish intrigued me. It was one of the daily specials and was called crispy dogfish tostada. It was delicious – a nicely browned, soft tostada containing crisp, flakey fish beautifully placed along with lettuce and parsley. A spicy yellow sauce made the flavor jump out, and a slice of lime was provided to moderate the fish flavor, but the lime went unused. It was by far the spiciest dish I had but at the same time, the most fun.
My dessert does not translate into English. Called greitxonera on the menu, it was macerated pineapple and mandarin orange pieces with two scoops of French vanilla ice cream and a wafer cookie. Spanish desserts are usually simple and wonderful and this was no exception. A double espresso and a nice glass of La Garrocha Amontillado helped finish a lovely Tapas dinner.
After I paid the check I asked for a business card at the bar and was presented with three, for it seems they have two sister restaurants, a Basque place called Txikito where I’ve already dined, and La Vara in the Cobble Hill section of Brooklyn. The hospitality didn’t end there. The young lady at the Captain’s Station walked with me to Ninth Avenue, where she pointed out another sister restaurant that she claimed was “better” than El Quinto Pinos. I thanked her profusely.
The Huntsman: Winter's War By Steve Herte
On opening night, I was glad to have an assigned seat in the movie theater, though it was nowhere near full. It was the same theater I where saw The Maze Runner featuring the Regal RPX sound system. A good feature providing there are no explosions on screen. The fun was spotty in the theater but started seriously at dinner. Enjoy!
The Huntsman: Winter’s War(Universal, 2016) – Director: Cedric Nicolas-Troyan. Writers: Evan Spiliotopoulos & Craig Mazin(s/p), Evan Daugherty (characters). Stars: Chris Hemsworth, Charlize Theron, Jessica Chastain, Emily Blunt, Nick Frost, Rob Brydon, Sheridan Smith, Alexandra Roach, Sope Dirisu, Sam Hazeldine, Sam Claflin, Robert Portal, Nana Agyeman-Bediako, Sophie Cookson, Conrad Khan, Niamh Walter, & Fred Tatasciore. Color, Rated PG-13, 124 minutes.
Until my waiter at dinner after the theater told me this movie is a sequel, I was confused by all the unexplained asides and non-sequiturs in the script. Now that I know that Snow White and the Huntsman (2012) is its predecessor, I’m even more confused. The knowledge explained some things but put others in question. Following so close on the heels of Disney’s Frozen (2013), I’m forced to separate the concepts of Snow Queen Elsa from the Ice Queen. Add to that the scene where Queen Freya (Blunt) leads her army astride a polar bear-like creature and I need to separate her from the White Witch in The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe (2005) whose chariot was pulled by three polar bears. All three are wintery characters.
The narrator at the beginning of the film tells us there are stories we have heard over and over, but there are some we’ve never heard. And this story begins with the evil Queen Ravenna (Theron) killing her king (Portal) by remote control using a chess game. When she says, “Queen takes King…” she means it and the chess piece begins to bleed as the human king collapses.
Ravenna is still obsessed with her brass serving plate “mirror” and her vain good looks, but she’s turned to mind games rather than special effects to get her way. When the mirror tells her that her sister Freya will give birth to a child that will be more beautiful than she, she forces the father to destroy the baby (thank goodness we don’t see that). However, the trauma releases the magic powers in Freya, which up until now she has denied having, and she becomes the Ice Queen. She moves out, heads north (why not?), and establishes her own kingdom in a frozen wasteland. (Sound familiar, Disney fans?)
But Freya is not like Elsa. She’s ruthless and wants an army. She conquers the kingdoms around hers (with what?) and steals all the children, who will then be trained as her huntsmen. When one terrified child exhibits love for his parents, Freya scars his cheeks with her freezing fingers while lecturing him about love being an illusion and a weakness.
Eric (Khan) and Sara (Walter) excel in their training beyond the other children and gain her favor. They grow up to be Chris Hemsworth and Jessica Chastain. Tull also grows up to become Sope Dirisu and their best friend. But when Eric and Sara fall in love and marry each other neck deep in a pool of water they incur Freya’s wrath. Freya has a white feathered Mardi Gras mask she wears when she spies on her “children,” and a ceramic snowy owl was perched above the marriage pool. Freya sets the rest of her huntsmen against Eric and Sara and, when it looks like they would successfully fight them all off, builds an ice wall between them, using deceit to drive them away from each other. Eric sees Tull kill Sara (something he knows in his heart Tull wouldn’t do), and Sara sees Eric abandon her and run away like a coward (also something she knows better than to believe). But they both believe what they saw. Sara is locked up in the queen’s castle and Eric is knocked unconscious, taken for dead, and hurled into the river. How in the world is he going to help Snow White regain her kingdom as he did in the first movie? Oh wait, from previous dialogue we learn that Snow White already has her kingdom. Maybe there’s a time warp here somewhere.
But it gets worse. Somehow, Freya has learned that her sister Ravenna is dead and she wants the magic mirror so she can be unstoppable. (Remember, she’s doing all this for the children.) For some strange reason, Ravenna’s brother Finn is neither mentioned in this film, nor does he inherit the mirror. It turns out to have been stolen by goblins.
Eric is not dead. He meets Snow White’s brother, William (Claflin), and is joined by two dwarves, Nion (Frost), one of the original seven from the first movie (eight, if you count the murdered Gus), and Gryff (Brydon). After a pub brawl that looks pretty dire, Eric and his dwarf companions are saved by a hooded figure that turns out to be none other than Sara! They’re both gobsmacked. He delighted she’s alive and she hates him for leaving her. Now they have to join forces to get the mirror before Freya does. On the way, they encounter two female dwarves, Mrs. Bromwyn (Smith) and Doreena (Roach), who know the way to the goblins’ lair. They want the gold and gems already there in payment for their tour guide service.
Hence my confusion? Some say it’s a fantasy and shouldn’t be taken so seriously. I say that it’s a story and the storyline should be consistent and whole; not broken up into whatever the writers want to throw in. The first movie has Eric’s wife as dead and Ravenna promising him to bring her back if he’ll kill Snow White (who doesn’t even appear in this movie). Ravenna doesn’t even consider Snow White when she conspires to kill Freya’s baby. And what would Sara say if she saw Eric give Snow White “true love’s kiss” in the first movie?
Eventually, I started ignoring the main characters except for the dwarves, who were much more real to me (and funnier), and paying more attention to the CGI background effects, which were marvelous – especially in the dark forest. If you decide to see this film, look for the python made of grass and white flowers, the large tortoise and the flitting pixies artfully woven into the scenes. On the good side, this film was 12 minutes shorter than the first one, but one still had to dig through Chris Hemsworth’s thick Australian-verging-on-Scottish accent to decipher what he was saying. Jessica Chastain also sounded like she was channeling his accent. Thank goodness Ravenna and Freya spoke clearly.
My applause goes to the costume designers and make-up artists once again for superlative work on Ravenna and Freya’s gowns and accoutrements. The CGI effects were top notch to the point that I wish this movie was in 3D. Parents warning: there is a good share of violence in this movie as well as bloodshed (did you know that goblin blood is like tar?), and then there’s the hokey love scenes. But the best part of all – there is no hint of another sequel.
In the Sixties, I became a Yankee baseball fan and followed the careers of both Mickey Mantle and Roger Maris. My uncle took me to ball games and I enjoyed being there. In the Seventies, I was still a fan when I joined the Westchester Golden Chordsmen Barbershop Chorus and found out that most of them were Yankees fans as well. My Dad was a Brooklyn Dodgers fan until they moved to California and disappointed him. He latched onto the New York Mets when they surfaced in 1962, but that’s another story.
When I started dining out and trying new restaurants, eventually, you know that Mickey Mantle’s restaurant on Central Park South near 6th Avenue (opened 1988) would be one of them. Unfortunately, it was geared to children who consider a hot dog with sauerkraut to be haute cuisine. I was not impressed. Though the food was solid and good, it wasn’t my kind of dining. Later, I gave the Mets equal time when Rusty Staub opened his restaurant on 39th Street and Fifth Avenue in 1989 and a sister restaurant on Third Avenue at 73rd Street. Pretty much the same thing. Mantle’s closed in 2012, Staub’s uptown place closed in 1991 and the Fifth Avenue one went out of business in 2011.
So one might guess I was leery about something called the New York Yankees Steakhouse, which is only entering its third year of existence. It’s said first impressions are the most important, and the flashy entrance to this restaurant made it look very important. Set back from the sidewalk and recessed within the building line, the 12-foot front windows flanked a snazzy steel awning stretching to the curb with the restaurant name in black raised lettering on both sides. OK, it has my attention.
Inside, the maple wood paneling and tastefully displayed Yankee memorabilia offset the dramatic stairway leading to the second floor. The bar on the far left had a canopy of silver, gold and copper chains swaying like fringes on a flapper’s skirt. Shirts with the number 6 (Joe Torre), 23 (Don Mattingly), and 44 (Reggie Jackson) were interspersed with two World’s Series Trophies in glass cases. There were flat-screen television monitors at several places showing baseball games, but they were not oppressive, just a part of the décor. The tables had white cloths and navy blue napkins (team colors), stemmed glassware, and unusual rock-like table lights (though it was bright enough to see without them). The atmosphere spoke “class” to me. This is not a run-of-the-mill sports bar.
Two young ladies at the Captain’s Station took my reservation and one led me up a second set of stairs to the right onto a level overlooking 51st Street. I sat on the navy blue banquette and settled in. I knew I wore my white shirt with the blue pinstripes for a reason.
Andrew, my waiter, appeared and handing me the wine and drink list and food menu. He recommended a cocktail that sounded interesting, but I saw one that was more appropriate. As this was my first time at the New York Yankees Steakhouse, I ordered the Yankeetini – Veev vodka, blue curacao, and white cranberry juice with a twist of lemon. Too bad there were so few patrons on my level, just three other tables of the possible 15. No one to notice that this drink was a vivid greenish-blue that even my camera couldn’t catch, but it was sweet and delicious, with blue sugar rimming the glass.
The menu read like a first class steakhouse menu (several of which are in the same part of town) featuring Raw Bar, Salads, Appetizers, Pasta, U.S.D.A. Prime Steaks, Butch Cuts, Fresh Seafood, and Sides. Andrew told me that Chef Braden Reardon is obsessive with freshness and can guarantee that everything I order will be as fresh as can be.
He described many items and the myriad combinations and sauces, not once saying, “we’re all out of” anything. I liked that. After explaining that my table lighting was an actual block of salt used in curing the steaks, he left me to consider.
Meanwhile, another server brought something to the two gentlemen sitting window side that caught my eye. It appeared to be a stack of seven or eight fresh doughnuts held in place by a thin black rod. I learned from the server that they were indeed onion rings! I think I decided to come back then and there. After a short discussion with Andrew, I had my three-course meal ordered and he knew which would come out when. He recommended the house wine and I told him I’d let him know.
By now you might know that I am pretty predictable in a steakhouse and two of my dishes were just that. The appetizer, oysters on the half-shell, arrived first on a large stemmed stainless steel platter. There were three from the west coast and three from the east coast. On a separate oblong white dish were ramekins of cocktail sauce, horseradish, and herb oil. Talk about freshness, the east coast oysters were not in the least bit briny. They were all wonderful, and frankly, I couldn’t tell one coast from the other. They were almost the same size. And with the tangy sauces, they were perfect.
Deciding to go Yankees all the way, I agreed to Andrew’s wine recommendation and ordered the 2013 Paso Robles New York Yankees ‘Reserve’ cabernet sauvignon. It was surprising in many ways. There was a cork, it was a deep red, had a great nose, and was full-bodied enough to take on the rest of my meal. Another home run.
The crab bisque, an almost corn chowder/puree kind of soup of the day, arrived in classic style with blue crab bits in the middle of the bowl. The server poured the bisque around it from a stainless steel pitcher. It was a beautiful pumpkin-colored, savory delight that was not fishy at all and gave a nice spicy aftertaste. Did I mention they served pretzel-rolls? When Andrew asked if there was anything else he could get me, I told him to keep the pretzel rolls coming. (By the way, the bread dish was in the shape of a baseball diamond.)
Next, but not least, in presentation was the 12-ounce filet mignon, seared black and crispy on the outside, rare on the inside (termed Black and Blue – just the way I love it), accompanied by a dish of bleu cheese topping. Sheer heaven. This steak was comparable to the one I had at Uncle Jack’s (Look out Jack!). The Yankees hit another home run. To make it a triple header, there was the side dish, decadent truffled Parmesan fries with barbecue dipping sauce. Perched in a paper cone inserted into a stainless steel server, they were crisp, earthy, cheesy and tangy with the sauce.
By now I was becoming full. The colossal chocolate cake sounded beyond my capacity, so I chose the strawberry and chocolate-marshmallow gelato and mango sorbet trio. Again, another home run. It was bigger scoops than I expected but the mango was excellent and the two gelatos were creamy and just as good as ones I tasted in Rome. Once again, the predictable double espresso was mine and Andrew recommended the Taylor Fladgate 20-year-old port wine, the pinnacle of meal-toppers.
New York Yankees Steakhouse is a class act from beginning to end without being stuffy or pretentious. I mentioned the time when George Steinbrenner loaned real Yankee uniforms to my chorus for our competition package and another server was happy to tell me about George and his friendship with him. I wore Dave Righetti’s shirt and Dale Berra’s pants. (Remember them?) I had a great time, ate a grand meal and will be returning for those onion rings (among other dishes).
The Jungle Book By Steve Herte
The Jungle Book (Disney, 2016) – Director: Jon Favreau. Writers: Justin Marks (s/p), Rudyard Kipling (book). Star: Neel Sethi. Voices: Bill Murray, Ben Kingsley, Idris Elba, Lupita Nyong’o, Scarlett Johansson, Christopher Walken, Giancarlo Esposito, Garry Shandling, Brighton Rose, Emjay Anthony, Max Favreau, Chloe Hechter, Asher Blinkoff, & Knox Gagnon. Color, Rated PG, 105 minutes.
“Do you like Kipling?” “I don’t know, I never kippled before.” Familiar lines from the Laugh-In television series. I was a pre-teen when I read “The Jungle Book” and I loved it. Of course I saw the Disney animated version in 1967 and the real-life remake in 1994. My favorite quote from 1994 is “Why do you suppose he (the panther) stares at us like that?” “Because to him, you are food.” The animated version was an entertaining, typically Disney bit of fluff that sugared the original story and topped it with a cherry. This time, Disney Corporation appears to be getting serious with the dangerous life of a child raised by animals in the jungle.
Mowgli (Sethi), as we learn from Kaa the python (Johansson) about halfway through the film, is the son of a traveler who is beset by Shere Khan the tiger (Elba) one night in their cave shelter. The father blinds the tiger in one eye and burns him with a torch before the tiger kills him. Shere Khan leaves the cave without noticing the orphaned child still there. The bewildered child is found by Bagheera the panther (Kingsley), who raises him and teaches him the ways of the wild. Eventually, he entrusts the “man-cub” to Akela (Esposito) and his mate Raksha (Nyong’o), the alpha male and female in a wolf pack. They care for Mowgli as one of their own cubs.
My ticket had a “4DX” after the film title. Frankly, I paid no attention to it when buying my ticket. I only wondered why this movie cost more than double what I usually pay. When I arrived at the theater, I saw a list of rules posted outside the door. Things like age limits, medical condition warnings, how to sit, what to do, and so forth. Sitting in my assigned seat I noticed a button on the armrest with “water on” lit. Not wanting to get wet, I immediately changed it. But I was not prepared for what was to come.
The movie opens with Mowgli running a race with his fellow wolves, he in the trees and they on the ground. Every seat in the theater followed his motions, up, down, back and forth. And when the tree branch broke under him you felt it on your left leg. When the breeze blew on screen, you felt it. When you saw flowers, you smelled them. And when it was misty onscreen, or when the vengeful Shere Khan kills Akela and takes over the pack, the audience is squirted with water.
Mowgli decides to leave the wolf pack and follow Bagheera to a “man-village” when he sees the pack in danger because of him. Separated from the panther, and alone in the misty rain forest, he’s saved from the hypnotic and hungry Kaa by Baloo the Bear (Murray). Up until now, the computer-generated animals are spectacular. They move like real beasts and talk with only a minimal movement of their mouths. Baloo even looks like Bill Murray, with the same sleepy eyes. But when Mowgli is captured by the monkeys and taken to the Hindu temple where King Louie the orangutan (Walken) sits on his throne, things get a little less believable.
King Louie is immense, very much larger than the largest male orangutan ever created. But considering his gigantic size, his head is disproportionately small. The effect is ridiculous.
Speaking of the ridiculous, I mentioned Disney “trying” to get serious in this film. The drama is not just broken, but outright dropped as Murray has to sing “Bare (Bear) Necessities” while doing the backstroke with Mowgli riding his chest, and even more laughable is Walken croaking his way through “I Wanna Be Like You.” Forgive me, but Phil Harris and Louie Prima they are not. Fortunately, Kaa’s song, “Trust in Me,” is left for the credits at the end and sung very well by Johansson.
When I was reading the book, all the characters were real to me, Bagheera being my favorite. I even liked Kaa, whom I totally misunderstood. It didn’t matter to me that this was a fantasy jungle. Nowhere on earth do you see tigers, wolves, bears, pangolins, orangutans, macaques, one lonely male peacock, rhinos, elephants, Ikki the porcupine (Shandling), and a giant squirrel together in one part of the world. I didn’t wonder why Mowgli could talk to all of the animals, though there are some in this film he cannot talk to, like the monkeys. Yes, it’s an allegory and a family film that teaches loyalty and right from wrong – great for viewing with children. However, I don’t believe the thrill of “being IN the movie” is worth the cost. I enjoyed The Jungle Book as a 3D movie with stunning CGI. I just want my seat to stay put and not to be spritzed with water.
After a movie involving multiple animals, it was great to find a Tex-Mex restaurant only four blocks away with the name of another animal. A Javelina is a wild pig about the size of a large house cat. If you’re still curious, they have a stuffed one over the bar.
Javelina is striking at street level. The Southwestern cross-hatch pattern on the gray and white tiles framing the front windows is easy to see, and the name in big green letters on a wood background contrast nicely. Inside. I had to squeeze past the Happy Hour crowd to get to the Captain’s Station and then move downstairs to the bar itself past a lively crowd to the dining area. My server, Samantha, supplied me with both the drinks menu and the food menu, and a glass of water at the same time as an apology for quickly zipping off to take care of other diners. All 20-plus tables were occupied, and the piped-in music found itself seriously competing with the ever-growing chatter. I didn’t mind, though, for I had a good view of everything.
I was still reeling from the bucking bronco that was my seat in the movies when my eyes cleared up enough to find an interesting margarita on the cocktail side of the drinks menu. When Samantha was free, she took my order for a prickly pear margarita on the rocks and asked me what tequila I would like. I was speechless for a second; I’ve never had that kind of a choice. I thought of my favorite tequila, but didn’t think “Two Fingers” was being produced anymore. All I could say was “Wow!”
She suggested a top-shelf brand, Casamigos Blanco, sang its praises, and added that although it cost a couple of dollars more, it was worth the extra price. Excellent salesmanship. I ordered it. I guess I made an impression on the man I took to be the manager who, at the time was assisting the bartender. He brought me the guava-pink drink with only half the rim encrusted with salt and a lime slice perched on the unsalted rim. It was beautiful and, I thought, very considerate to people who can’t have too much salt. Not only that, it was delicious.
The food menu is four pages long with several intriguing and different dishes I found nowhere else (such as brisket tacos?). I told Samantha that I liked everything and that I was putting together a three-course meal. I asked her about the size of the taco dishes and she answered that it depended upon how many I ordered. That settled my decision. I gave her my selections, she suggested the order they should come out, and I ordered a second margarita.
Another server brought the first course, tortilla soup – shredded chicken in pasilla (the dried form of the chilaca chili or chili negro) broth with tomatoes, avocado, creama (sour cream), fried tortilla strips and cheese. It was hearty, rich, and only mildly spicy. I remembered the last tortilla soup I had and made the suggestion of using blue-corn tortillas in the recipe. Samantha said she’d tell the chef. Otherwise, it was excellent.
I had kept the drinks menu for my wine choice and ordered the 2015 Chilean Cabernet Sauvignon “Alto” Riserva, Los Romeros, Colchagua Valley, Chile. When the manager/assistant bartender arrived with the bottle, he apologized for the screw-top bottle. As he poured I explained that quite a few times I’ve experienced wonderful “corkless" wines, and as I tasted it, said, “like this one.” Samantha had joined us and I told them about last week’s restaurant being all out of Chilean Cabernet Sauvignon and the week-long craving that resulted. They both smiled and acknowledged that now, I have it. I knew it would go with the soup, but it had a poblano pepper “meaty” flavor, verging on spiciness as well as a deep cherry fruitiness that would match my main course perfectly.
My second course was one of the unusual dishes, fried oyster tacos wrapped in soft fresh-made tortillas, with shredded cabbage, tomato, cilantro and lime. Something weird happens to oysters when they are cooked. This dish recalled to mind my first taste of oysters at a Japanese restaurant called Kabuki (no longer in business). Then, as now, the cooking process brings out the metallic zinc flavor in oysters. I had ordered two of these tacos and, after finishing the first I dowsed the second in fresh lime juice, which helped a lot. I think I’ll stick to fresh oysters on the half shell.
No dish arrived at the same time as the previous one and I credit Samantha with a great job of choreographing the meal. In several places on the menu, the words chile and chili were interchangeable though they mean distinctly different things. The main course was an example. The chili (chile – their spelling) relleno, a large poblano pepper battered and fried and stuffed with beef picadillo (ground beef, onions, green bell peppers, garlic and tomatoes), and topped with melted cheese, toasted pecans, raisins and tomatillo sauce, was a wonder to behold.
The colors of this dish were vibrant and the aroma enticing. I decided to start at the stem end of the pepper (where the spiciest part is) and discovered it was uniformly mild throughout. The chef made sure to exclude the seeds. Unlike the first one I had at the Caliente Cab Company in Greenwich Village, this dish did not make me empty the accompanying red rice dish or the refried black beans just to put out the fire in my mouth. It was savory, cheesy, beefy and wonderful throughout. I told Samantha that it reminded me one I had in San Antonio, Texas. She liked that.
Javelina has been open for a year now and has yet to get a dessert list. Samantha offered a complimentary sopapilla with a honey dipping sauce. A sopapilla is something like a cross between a fluffy doughnut and Italian zeppole, coated with brown sugar, and best eaten hot and fresh. Samantha asked how it I liked it and I asked for more. She brought two more. However, coffee was strangely missing from the menu, much less the fancy coffees I see in Mexican restaurants. But just as strange, I didn’t need any. I considered an after dinner drink but changed my mind. I was satisfied.
Midnight Special By Steve Herte
Midnight Special(WB, 2016) – Director: Jeff Nichols. Writer: Jeff Nichols (story and s/p). Stars: Michael Shannon, Joel Edgerton, Kirsten Dunst, Jaeden Lieberher, Adam Driver, Bill Camp, Scott Haze, Sam Shepard, Paul Sparks, David Jensen, Sharon Landry, Dana Gourrier, Sharon Garrison, Allison King, & Sean Bridgers. Color, Rated PG-13, 112 minutes.
I’ve been duped. The trailers for this movie promised more than it delivered. I saw glowing streams of light coming from a child’s eyes and fiery bolides falling from the sky and I was hooked. None of it prepared me for what I saw.
We have Roy Tomlin (Shannon) kidnapping (or escaping) with his eight-year-old son Alton Meyer (Lieberher) from a Waco-esque religious cult ranch in the dark of night. They are aided by Roy’s childhood best friend and ex-state patrolman Lucas (Edgerton) as they whisk away the boy while the minions of the fanatic minister Doak (Camp) give chase.
The question “Why?” besets this movie throughout and is rarely answered. Why does the child have goggles on; why is his last name different from that of his parents, and why does everything have to be done at night?
Roy and Lucas are on a mission to get the boy to a certain location by a certain date and time before his weakening “condition” causes his death. They are in a car accident and have to seek shelter with another former cult member, Elden (Jensen). But Elden cannot resist staring into Alton’s eyes for another jolt of those intense beams that appear to be hurting the boy. Why? He says he needs to see it once again.
We learn that Alton has special powers and can channel radio broadcasts and signals from orbiting satellites. The ludicrous “prayer sessions” held by the cult quote “readings” from the various “revelations” and numbers Alton has spouted while in their keeping. They would be laughable if it weren’t for the fact that some people will believe anything. Even Pastor Doak believes Alton is speaking in tongues. And he does do a Spanish broadcast at one point.
Why is the FBI after Alton? It seems that some of the numbers he’s been speaking into scripture are top secret military locations and they consider him to be some kind of weapon. How did they even know he was speaking coordinates? That question is one of the unanswered. But when Alton brings down one of our spy satellites (the fiery bolides I mentioned before), they go all out to capture him.
Roy and Lucas swipe Elden’s van after they hear on the police radio that their car has been spotted and described by a motel manager. They make it to Roy’s wife, Sarah Tomlin (Dunst), and though she’s delighted to see Alton again, she knows they have more traveling to do.
The FBI have reluctantly recruited Paul Sevier (Driver), a psychological specialist who looks and acts like a young Jeff Goldblum. When the FBI raid one of the motels Roy, Lucas and Alton are staying at with Sarah, they capture Alton. But Alton will only speak to Paul and he convinces him to bring him back to his parents.
So now we have these parents and best friend and this strange child who gets weaker every time his eyes light up running to a destination at which they know not what will happen. And then Alton tells his “Dad” that he must go out into the sunlight. It’s one of only two scenes that are vaguely interesting in this film – this one and the second to last one – and surprise! It recharges his battery. He all well again, he knows who he is (that’s good because the audience sure doesn’t) and what he has to do. Can you say, “ET phone home?” Except, he’s not exactly an alien.
By the end of Midnight Special many, but not all, of the questions are answered. Two that are not answered are why this movie was made and how you got fooled into seeing it? Jaeden Lieberher is a beautiful, but serious little actor, Michael Shannon verges on non-believability as a character and Kirsten Dunst does what she does best: act shocked or concerned. Joel Edgerton is a strong, silent type, which is good. He does have not too many lines to remember and he mumbles those he does have. Adam Driver may grow up to be Goldblum if he studies hard. Jeff Nichols’ script probably fits on a single page for all the dialogue there is. Most of the interaction is facial expression changes and subtle nods.
Parents, if you have nothing better to do, this is a movie without vile language and a minimum of gore with flashy special effects, just none that you haven’t seen before. Its most redeeming quality is the spectacular computer-generated stage sets. But be aware. It’s an hour and 42 minutes you’ll never get back.
I was hoping this restaurant would be a landmark Indian for me because it was so good. I knew I was approaching a count of 150, but it was only my 144th. Tamba’s exciting and varied menu on their website is what drew me to make a reservation. Its location in the Murray Hill section of Manhattan is now more famous for Indian restaurants than East 6th Street in East Greenwich Village.
Everything about Tamba is humble, right down to the exterior – a simple aluminum-silver framed front window with the name in lower case, soft-white neon lights. Inside, the simple string curtains lit by a single string of white twinkle lights flank the small bar. The most ornate decoration is here, a statue of an Indian goddess dancing. Otherwise the décor is low key, shades of brown and soft gold. Even the artwork on the walls is minimalist. There are at most 20 tables in the entire restaurant meticulously covered in white tablecloths and topped with glass water goblets in which are artfully folded cloth napkins.
There is no Captain’s Station and, with only two tables occupied upon my arrival, I had no problem being seated. The gentleman who seated me eventually became my server and was one of only three employees I saw during the entire meal. He went simply by the initials “B.G.” and I made no reference to the musical group of similar name. He brought me a glass of water, the cocktail card and the beer and wine list, and menu (neatly bound in leather).
The drink that attracted my attention first (and beat out a drink called the Kama Sutra) was the “Volcano Cocktail,” a sweet, bewitching combination of Demera rum, Kahlua, almond syrup and brandy. Why it has the name “volcano” I have no idea. It was cool, not hot or even spicy. I liked it, but decided not to have a second.
The food menu is extensive even for an Indian restaurant and it incorporates cuisines of Pakistan and Afghanistan as well. I was tempted by the Dosa, south Indian specialties rarely seen on Indian menus but are slowly coming into fashion. The nearest thing I can compare them to are crèpes in texture and shape, but the size of the largest chimichangas you’ve ever had. One Dosa is indeed a meal, stuffed with meat, vegetables and spices. I know, I had one long ago at the Bengal Tiger in White Plains. No way are they a side dish or an appetizer.
I looked for dishes I’ve never tried and I found them easily, though I took my time. B.G. wrote them down and after checking the serving order with me, he was off to the kitchen.
While he was thus occupied, I considered the wine list and decided on the Chilean Cabernet Sauvignon. But B.G. said he’d check and did I have a second choice? Malbec was my second choice and soon he returned with a bottle of 2014 Frontera Malbec from Mendoza, Argentina. For an extremely young red it was assertive, a rich, dark red and had a respectably strong nose and big fruity flavor. It would be perfect.
The man I took to be the manager had been roaming from table to table and now I saw the third of the three employees, a tall thin man all in black, who served me the chicken pakoras, my appetizer – shredded chicken and onion fritters with mild spices – and the mulligatawny soup – traditional Indian soup with chicken, lentils mild spices and green peas. The reddish-brown, crispy fritters were served encircling shredded cabbage and had a delightful mixture of flavors. The soup was served in a square bowl and its delicious aroma filled my nose. It was all I could do to wait until I took pictures of both dishes before eating.
Both were amazing.
By now you must know that I’m an eavesdropper. Not an intentional one, but I hear all the conversations around me. The round table in front of me was seated with six seniors from Texas and one asked where mulligatawny soup got its name. One woman looked it up, as did I. I guessed correctly that it is an English (or rather Anglicized) name cobbled together from the original Tamil (South India) words mulluga and thanni. The recipe is Indian but when the English got a hold of it, it intensified in spice content. B.G. asked me how I wanted my main course: mild, medium or hot. I told him to make it the way it’s supposed to be made. The way Indians would eat it. He agreed, medium – or as he said, regular.
Originally, my preference for main course went to one of the Tamba specialties, a ground lamb kebab involving cashew nuts and exotic preparation, but B.G. didn’t think that it could be made that evening. He didn’t say they were out of it, he said it couldn’t be made. I didn’t question it.
The pepper mutton fry – dry mutton curry with hot spices in Chennai style – was my other choice and was exactly what I wanted. Chennai or Madras is sometimes called the “Gateway to Southern India” and for me, this dish was a portal to Wonderland. Though it had two good-sized, foreboding black chili peppers in the mixture, it was not by any means hotly spiced. Yes, there were three bones, but one expects that with mutton and goat. But the mouth-filling flavor was grand, savory, and just a little tart. The net effect was almost sweet.
My side dish was one I’ve never seen, sambar rice. Normally Indian restaurants serve basmati rice plain or with green peas and that would be enough. This dish truly gilds the lily by mixing it with sambar, a lentil-based vegetable stew (not unlike a chowder), using broth and tamarind. It is intrinsic to Tamil Nadu in southern India. The sambar turned an aromatic rice side dish into a flavorful party. And then there’s the bread: ghobi paratha (another bread new to me) was a flat bread, cooked in the tandoor oven and stuffed with (of all things) cauliflower! It was light and heavy at the same time. The ghee (buffalo butter) made it heavy, but its extreme thinness made it light.
B.G. and the manager came to visit several times, both commenting on how much I seemed to be enjoying my meal, and I was. The manager wanted to know where I came from. When I answered Queens, he lit up. “Where in Queens?” I gave him my location and he had a relative who lives five blocks away from me. B.G. and I shared a joke about the lovely couple who dined at the next table and who had just left. I told him that she should have known if she were bringing an Argentinean to an Indian restaurant that he would order chicken tikka masala. He laughed. To explain, chicken tikka masala is such a mild dish, I call it “Indian food for those who don’t like Indian food.” I had the remainder of my rice boxed to go so that my Dad could taste it.
I noted that there was a dessert on the list (again) that I’ve never seen, chocolate kulfi and I asked B.G. about it. He put on that face that I’ve learned and said, “I don’t know if we have it tonight,” but he said he’d get me pistachio kulfi if that were true. And it was. The bright green Indian ice cream (which isn’t really ice cream at all, made with condensed milk, white bread and cardamom with flavoring) was cold and definitely pistachio. Combined with a nice, hot cup of masala (spiced) tea, it was a comforting end to a perfect Indian feast.
Tamba is five years old and I’m sure it will last long enough for me to return and try the many new (to me) dishes on the menu, as well as the familiar ones. And I shouldn’t forget the Dosa.
Eye in the Sky By Steve Herte
Eye in the Sky (Bleecker Street Media, 2016) – Director: Gavin Hood. Writer: Guy Hibbert (s/p). Stars: Helen Mirren, Aaron Paul, Alan Rickman, Jessica Jones, Aisha Takow, Bob Chappell, Lex King, Dek Hassan, Abdi Mohamed Osman, Ebby Weyime, Barkhad Abdi, Iain Glen, Phoebe Fox, & Richard McCabe. Color, Rated R, 102 minutes.
“Never tell a soldier about the casualties of war!” The last line from Lt. Gen. Frank Benson (Rickman) to Kate Barnes (Jones) echoes the agony experienced by the entire cast as the scenes played out in this modern warfare thriller.
When you have three of the top five terrorists on your watch list constructing suicide vests in a house located in a friendly country, and you have a drone poised to fire a missile to destroy them, and innocent little Kenyan girl Alla Mo’Allim (Takow) sits directly outside selling bread, what do you do?
This is the dilemma facing Col. Katherine Powell (Mirren). On the one hand, she’s ecstatic at finally tracking down the radicalized Susan Danford, now Ayesha AL-Hady (King) after months of searching, and, not only that but she has the husband Abdullah AL-Hady (Hassan) and number two, Amadu Mukhtar (Osman) in the same building. On the other, her top secret operation in cooperation with the United States military is subject to legal rules of conduct and moral judgments that threaten to delay or even prevent her capture of the targets. How does she know this? Operatives on the ground, Damisi (Weyime) and Jama Farah (Abdi), who control surveillance cameras in the shapes of a hummingbird and a beetle, have “seen” inside the safe house.
Lt. Gen. Benson meanwhile is in contact with Col. Powell through his laptop in London with representatives of the United Kingdom government who are there to witness the “capture.” When the situation evolves to a drone strike, the ramifications are heightened and the issue is “referred up” to Foreign Secretary James Willett (Glen), who is unfortunately suffering a bout of food poisoning.
When all is cleared for firing the missile and the collateral damage has been calculated, drone pilot Steve Watts (Paul) and US Air Force colleague Carrie Gershon (Fox) can see the little girl setting up her table just outside the compound in their cross-hairs. Steve’s reluctance to fire until the collateral damage or “CD” is recalculated sends the decision to the Attorney General, George Matherson (McCabe), for reassessment.
The suspense and tension throughout this film is palpable. If you do not find your heart rate increase by the end, you’re probably dead. Every actor in the cast is obviously aware of the horrific results of the decision to fire (or not) and it shows in the faces. Helen Mirren’s frustration each time her victory is put off is graphic. Alan Rickman is still the great stone face he was as Severus Snape in the Harry Potter movies, but you can read the deep concern in his expressions.
It’s a frighteningly believable tale of high technology warfare done superbly without vulgarity (not one) and with minimal gore while having maximum moral teaching. It asks the difficult question of how to deal with terrorists from Somalia (an unfriendly country) imposing sharia law in neighboring Kenya (a friendly country) and making it their base of operations. From a technical standpoint, this movie deserves the term “Wow” even without the top rate actors and performances. The effects of the mechanical bird and beetle were amazing. I went to see it just because I love Mirren, but I got so much more.
I can’t tell you exactly when I last dined at the China Grill, but it was over 12 years ago and it was my third or fourth time. It’s one of those restaurants you can’t get enough of, and so you’re compelled to return. This time it was to celebrate my dining companion’s birthday. My karaoke host suggested the restaurant and I realized that I’ve never reviewed it. Perfect.
I arrived first at the sleek black stone and glass tower that was once the CBS Building on the corner of Sixth Avenue and 53rd Street and entered through the revolving door. I marvel at the use of this cavernous space every time I’m there. The Captain’s Station is immediately to the left; beyond it are black wood bare-topped tables of the bar crowd. There are more tables to the right on a wedge-shaped platform. In all, I didn’t see one empty space. The 20-plus-foot-high ceilings are graced with pancake-like lighting fixtures in shades of flax and blushing pink as they march through a narrowing hall toward the rear dining area.
The young lady asked me to wait for my companion because they do not seat anyone until the entire party has arrived. The bar down the hall was fully occupied and the only seat was a small curved bench behind the revolving door, now occupied by a young man awaiting his take-out. I sat next to him admiring that décor. Even the floor is not just tile. There are words. I read “The Wild Animals” right beneath my feet. The walls are painted muted shades of red with fanciful dragons sketched on them.
One half hour after our reservation time, my dining companion arrived (she got off at the wrong subway station). The lady at the Captain’s Station graciously led us past the bar to the rear dining area, where she split apart two tables to make a single for us. The space has at least twice as many tables as the front area, and though they were a little more than half occupied, it was alive with conversation. I had forgotten how noisy the place was when combined with the piped-in music. We had to lean in toward each other to hear ourselves.
Our server, Jessica arrived and greeted us. When the water was poured, she asked if we wanted a drink. My lovely guest ordered a glass of the Riesling from the Mosel region of Germany and I ordered the specialty cocktail, “Shiso Crazy” – green tea infused Russian Standard vodka, cucumber, shiso (a Japanese herb sometimes called “Japanese basil”), and lime. I think she got the better of that deal. My drink was tasty, but when Jessica returned I dubbed it too namby-pamby and ordered a decent Beefeater Martini, which was almost perfect. The second one was perfect.
The four page, all-inclusive, bound menu featured cocktails, wine and beer on the first page, Dim Sum, Salads and Starters on the second, Mains, “Grand Plates” and Accompaniments on the third, and Desserts and Soufflés on the fourth. Knowing from previous experience that nearly everything on the menu was good, I found myself explaining the difference between sashimi and sushi, spicy dishes and mild dishes and the difference between authentic Chinese cuisine and China Grill’s interpretation.
When she finished the Riesling, I recommended the Sancere – “Patient Cottat” from the Loire region, France, which she found equally as good. We ordered two starters and two main courses and decided to share everything.
The blue crab, tuna and edamame guacamole tartare was an artistic little tower in shades of light green, beige and brown surrounded by pepper and herb oils with a ramekin of savory prawn crackers. It was delicious, but the tuna flavor dominated (by that I mean the “Chicken of the Sea” flavor, not the sushi flavor). I liked the crackers much more. The lobster pancakes, stir fried with wild mushrooms, red chili, scallions and coconut milk was a much better starter. Looking like a large burrito covered in shredded carrots, it was easily sliced with a spoon and served.
When there was nothing left of the appetizers but a few drops of sauce, Jessica cleared the table and another server brought our two main courses. The duck two ways was tender, pan-seared, sliced duck breast with chocolate-orange sauce and “moo-shu” style confit of duck leg with a spicy hoisin sauce. The hoisin sauce was sweet, as hoisin sauce should always be. The duck was amazing in both preparations. The pale green and white pancakes for wrapping the moo shu duck were too soft and moist to put into service as wrappers – much less hold, so we ate them as a side dish.
The grilled Szechuan beef (marinated in sake, soy, spicy shallots and cilantro) shared its plate with a mound of crispy Chinese noodles. It made quite an impression. The blackness of the meat implied a crisp crust, which I love. The beef was tender and juicy but, as I warned my dining companion beforehand, nowhere near as spicy as a true Szechuan dish would be. In fact, it was not spicy at all. Delicious, yes. The noodles were great fun to eat and the dark brown sauce added just the touch of flavor they needed.
When I could get Jessica aside, I mentioned that we were celebrating a birthday and she nodded comprehension. Our two desserts arrived simultaneously. The bananas in a box, caramelized bananas upright in an edible cookie “box” were topped with caramel cream, a caramel drizzle, two spoons made from caramelized sugar and a lit candle. On the plate was written “Happy Birthday” in chocolate sauce.
My hazelnut tort paled in comparison. Both were wonderful and again, a lot of fun to eat. That, and a double espresso for me and a cappuccino for her ended what I call The Orientation (she’s never been to the China Grill before). We both had a great time and I still love China Grill.
Batman v. Superman: Dawn of Justice By Steve Herte
Batman v. Superman: Dawn of Justice(WB, 2016) – Director: Zack Snyder. Writers: Chris Terrio & David S. Goyer. Based on characters created by Bob Kane, Bill Finger (Batman) & Jerry Siegel, Joe Shuster (Superman). Stars: Ben Affleck, Henry Cavill, Amy Adams, Jesse Eisenberg, Diane Lane, Laurence Fishburne, Jeremy Irons, Holly Hunter, Gal Gadot, Scoot McNairy, Callan Mulvey, Tao Okamoto, Brandon Spink, Michael Cassidy, Kevin Costner, Jeffrey Dean Morgan, Lauren Cohan, & Alan D. Purwin. Color, Rated PG-13, 151 minutes.
“You can’t tell the next generation of Waynes…Lord knows if there will ever BE a next generation of Waynes…” Wise words from Alfred Pennyworth (Irons).
The big question I had when I first saw the trailers for this film was: why Batman would ever have to battle Superman? One is in Gotham City, the other is in Metropolis. Each have their own set of villains to oppose and both are good guys on the side of justice, no? Not from each other’s perspective.
For one thing, Metropolis and Gotham City are nearer to each other than Philadelphia and New York (I never knew that). And the opening scenes depict the destruction resulting from Superman’s last battle with General Zod, including buildings being sliced by Zod’s spaceship and Superman’s x-ray vision. Metropolis is a mess. The town council under Senator Finch (Holly Hunter) is considering limiting Superman’s freedom. Bruce Wayne/Batman (Affleck) stands a short helicopter ride away viewing Superman as a menace to society. Clark Kent/Superman (Cavill) and Lois Lane (Adams) are still trying to depict Superman as a hero and a necessary asset to the city, but Perry White (Fishburne) will have none of it.
On the other hand, Superman and the governing body of Gotham City see Batman as a renegade vigilante with no supervision. He views him as nothing more than a thief. There’s no Commissioner Gordon in this movie (I checked) to stick up for Batman and his reputation is sinking fast.
If that wasn’t bad enough, Lex Luthor (Eisenberg), a wealthy young upstart and CEO of Lexcorp, has managed to get a hold of a large chunk of kryptonite salvaged from the Indian Ocean and he hatches a plan to pit the two heroes against each other. He frames Superman with killing American soldiers in the African country of Nairomi (as opposed to the city of Nairobi), kidnaps Martha Kent (Lane) as a hostage, and gains access to General Zod’s (Shannon) body and crashed spaceship (although why Metropolis has it enshrined in a large, inflated dome similar to indoor tennis courts, I have no idea) – and is planning worse havoc.
At one of Lex’s benefit galas, Clark Kent and Bruce Wayne meet for the first time. Bruce is there to discover what mischief Lex might be up to and he plants an elaborate version of a flash drive on his computer system (with remote help from Alfred). Superman hears the two communicating, but is interrupted in stopping the cyber thievery by Lois’s dilemma in Nairomi (wouldn’t you know she’d be there). However, when Bruce goes to retrieve his device, it’s already been removed by Diana Prince/Wonder Woman (Gadot). “You’ve never met a woman like me. And besides, I only borrowed it.” They both learn a part of Lex’s plans and are united in the effort of stopping him.
Batman steals the kryptonite from Lex, Superman nearly wrecks the Batmobile and the stage is set.
Who is the hero of this film? At one point, it’s Lois. But she’s still partly the same Lois Lane that Noel Neill played back in 1948 and who always goes where she shouldn’t. Jesse Eisenberg approaches brilliance in his portrayal of Lex Luthor. He’s somewhere between Heath Ledger’s Joker and Matthew Gray Gubler’s Dr. Reid on Criminal Minds. Henry Cavill makes a good Superman (they forgot the curl on his forehead) who is beginning to have his doubts about what he stands for. Ben Affleck has bulked up considerably for his role as Batman – as well he should, considering his adversary – but is not the lovable character we all know.
There are interesting flashbacks to the funeral of Thomas and Martha Wayne (Morgan and Cohan) as young Bruce Wayne (Spink) runs off into a forest in his grief, falls down a well and we discover how he chose the name Batman. On a snowy mountaintop, there is a meaningful conversation between Clark and Jonathan Kent (Costner) – probably the smallest role for this actor. Where was Jimmy Olsen (Cassidy)? Here and there.
The big problem with this movie is the two-and-a-half-hour length. There’s only so many times you can watch one guy bashing another around before it becomes routine and boring and you just don’t care anymore. The special effects are all familiar, nothing new. The 3D is good but not innovative (not Avatar – still the best use of the technique). The dialogue is predictable with the exception of Alfred’s lines. He’s my favorite character. Gal Gadot makes a really sensual Wonder Woman. Parents: beware, there's a lot of brutal violence in this film but surprisingly only one four letter word (shockingly, spoken by Batman). Movie lovers, according to a now bald Lex Luthor, there will be a sequel. “He’s coming!”
For a dyed-in-the-wool carnivore like myself, there is no greater penance (I thought) than going to a vegan restaurant on Good Friday. Not only would there be no meat, there is not even a tasty bit of fish to enjoy. The online menu for Blossom, however, was intriguing and I thought, what the heck, blow me away.
The dark blue and white striped awning announces “Organic Vegetarian Cuisine” after the name in big white letters. Inside, past a heavy velvet drape, is a charming cream-colored space lit by ceiling spots and minimally decorated with various shaped mirrors. Twenty or so tables are polished and bare-topped with yellow votive (electric) candles providing a soft glow.
I didn’t see a Captain’s Station upon entering but there was a young woman awaiting a table. The hostess arrived and greeted us. I indicated that the lady was before me. She didn’t have a reservation and the hostess led her to a table in the back. Thank goodness I made a reservation. I was led to a brighter-lit table near the kitchen – not usually a great location, but better than for the non-reserved. Most of the tables were occupied, including a table for four near myself, and soon, the table next to mine.
My server introduced himself simply as “Stone” and brought me the Beer and Wine List, the Food Menu and a glass of water. The food menu featured Starters (including the soup of the day), Salads, Entrées, and “Snacks and Sides.” The beverage list was not what I would call a cocktail list, but they did have an impressive variety of beers. I chose the Sixpoint “Sweet Action” beer, brewed in Brooklyn, N.Y. It was a refreshing and easy drinking.
I told Stone of my usual habits – the three course meal and my slow eating – and that I had a good appetite. “Then you came to the right place!” he said. I made my selections and told him I would choose the wine after I finished my beer.
I concluded that every dish served in this restaurant was made fresh by the time it took to be served, not just to me, but to the diners nearby. That’s a good thing. My Butternut Squash Gnocchi with cherry tomatoes, pumpkin seeds, red cabbage and spinach in a cashew cream sauce arrived just as I was finishing the beer. It was remarkable, sweet, dense and very filling. I was glad it was just a starter. The cantaloupe-colored dumplings were literally made (not stuffed with) from squash mixed with potato.
I ordered the 2013 Zinfandel Trentadue, (Italian for Thirty-two) Sonoma, Calif. Stone approved. It’s his favorite. Once again, I was amazed that a great, rich, full-bodied red with a spicy nose and tantalizing aftertaste should come from a screw-top bottle. I heard the young lady at the next table ask her companion what Zinfandel was. I was compelled to intervene and sing the praises of the uniquely American grape. She thanked me.
I knew what my quinoa salad would look like because the same person I just spoke to had ordered one to start. I was curious how anyone could make a salad out of a seed (technically) masquerading as a grain. The salad contained fresh greens, black beans, sweet corn, diced bell peppers, watercress, toasted pumpkin seeds, and guacamole, with a tahini dressing. Quinoa was sprinkled throughout but it was not the main ingredient. I loved the mixture of flavors, nutty, tart, sweet, and sour. The young lady next to me was still hungry after the salad but I assured her, after she finished the gnocchi – I heard her order it – she would be full. She said, “Perfect!”
I saw my main course arrive at the round table along with the “lasagna,” which I was glad I didn’t order. The lasagna appeared to be too big a dish after that filling gnocchi and the mound of salad and it didn’t have an appetizing color. Maybe in a future visit.
The pine nut crusted eggplant with roasted Yukon gold potatoes, rosemary and shredded herbs garnish in a light cream sauce was exactly what I wanted. The two square eggplant patties were stacked on top of crisp spinach greens in a sea of pink sauce. I don’t usually prefer Yukon gold potatoes, but these were well prepared and were not the main event on the plate. I would have preferred French tarragon to the rosemary, but I loved it anyway.
I heard the couple next to me deciding on dessert from the choice of five. I distinctly caught the word “cobbler” and thought peach? No, it was apple. The young man ordered the chocolate ganache with a peanut butter drizzle and vanilla ice cream, and I had to ask if he could taste the peanut butter. Not only did he confirm that, but he stated that “usually vegetarian restaurants fail miserably on chocolate desserts, but this one is really good!” That sold me. It was. The oblong box of dark chocolate was rich with cocoa butter and yes, the sauce was unmistakably peanuty. The vanilla ice cream was equally as good. I ordered a French press coffee to accompany it and was further delighted.
Blossom has three locations in New York but this one is the first and has been open for a little over ten years. It bears revisiting. Before I left, I asked Stone the question, “If this were a French restaurant, would I call you Pierre?” He laughed and said yes.
By Steve Herte
Anyone who knows me can tell you I rarely make forays into the movies about real events. Reality is often painful (as in the case of this film) which is why I turn to fantasy so often. But when a movie wins “Best Picture,” the attraction is stronger. I’m glad I saw it and doubly glad I’m not the ‘shrinking violet’ I once was about people and food. Enjoy!
Spotlight(Open Road Films, 2015) – Director: Tom McCarthy. Writers: Josh Singer & Tom McCarthy. Stars: Mark Ruffalo, Michael Keaton, Rachel McAdams, Liev Schreiber, John Slattery, Brian d'Arcy James, Stanley Tucci, Elena Wohl, Gene Amoroso, Doug Murray, Sharon McFarlane, Jamie Sheridan, Neal Huff, Len Cariou, Billy Crudup, Richard Jenkins, & Robert B. Kennedy. Color, Rated R, 128 minutes.
“Boston, 1976” reads the caption at the film’s beginning. A priest is visiting a distraught family. A senior cleric arrives and takes him away in a big black Lincoln Continental.
The scene shifts to 2001 at a retirement party for the editor of TheBoston Globe. The new editor, Marty Baron (Schreiber) sees that readership is down and wants to build it back up. He proposes cuts in various places and calls in the manager of the “Spotlight” Team, Walter ‘Robby’ Robinson (Keaton). “Spotlight” is a deep-investigative reporting team who sometimes take a year to produce a series of articles on a topic. The elite group consists of Mike Rezendes (Ruffalo), Sacha Pfeiffer (McAdams), Ben Bradley Jr. (Slattery), and Matt Carroll (James).
Marty assigns Spotlight to the story behind reports of a Catholic priest, Father John Geoghan, accused of sexually abusing children. But he states that he wants “the system,” not just the individual case. They accept the task knowing that the Boston Archdiocese under Cardinal Bernard Law (Cariou) is a major force in the town.
The investigation leads to Phil Saviano (Huff), who reported the problem nearly 20 years ago. His accusations, however, were dismissed and the number of suspects balloons from one to 13 priests. The reporters question several lawyers, including Mitchell Garabedian (Tucci), who has way too many cases; Jim Sullivan (Jamey Sheridan), an attorney for the church who clams up; and Eric Macleish (Crudup), who has tried many of the cases. But it’s a Baltimore psychotherapist, Richard Sipe (Jenkins), who gives them the estimate of 6 percent of all priests who are guilty of this behavior. This results in a total of 90 priests in Boston alone.
Researching the archives for priests transferred frequently they are shocked to come up with 87 names. Sipes was accurate. With the help of Boston Globe Special Investigator Steve Kurkjian (Amoroso) and a judge’s ruling, the teams manages to secure previously sealed evidence documents that sets them on a course to uncover a horror more frightening than a Stephen King novel.
Spotlight is a deeply disturbing movie, well acted, and equally well directed. Michael Keaton is splendid as the leader of what appears to be an impossible mission at first. Mark Ruffalo is excellent as the fighter for truth and justice. He’s livid when he hears that the article has to be delayed (for good reason, as 9/11 happened and took precedence). Rachel McAdams is just as tough a reporter as Mark, but is able to put a softer touch to her interviews. A truly creepy performance is given by Richard O’Rourke, who is briefly seen as Father Ronald Paquin, one of the accused. We even see Paul Guilfoyle as the principal of a school where several abuses occurred.
Knowing the plot ahead of time did not prepare me for the scope of the problem described in detail before the closing credits. The Best Picture Oscar for 2015 was well deserved, proving what I’ve always known: truth is stranger (and scarier) than fiction.
What do you think of when you hear “Bamboo 52?” I had my trepidations about dining in a restaurant with a rhyming name, especially when it serves a dish that requires expert handling like sushi.
Looking down 52nd Street from 8th Avenue, I could not see any evidence of any restaurants. Halfway down the block, I saw a Kelly green sign winking from under a scaffolding. Closer, the words “Bamboo 52” were visible on the green background. There was also a small green awning over the glass-fronted entrance. Inside was a din of rock music and very lively conversation, with the bar to the left, and the Captain’s Station immediately to the right.
A young lady took my reservation and led me to a high table just beyond the bar. I normally demur at sitting perched on a stool, but this one had a high back, which made it suitable; definitely better than the stools at the sushi bar in back or those at the regular bar, and infinitely better than the backless hassocks upon which some young people were seated.
Deciding to face the bar, I tried the stool first, but every joint on it was dangerously loose. I turned around and a young lady with a buzz cut who would become my server was there. After she introduced herself as Arnitra, I indicated the peril of my sitting on this about-to-collapse piece of furniture and she switched it for one more solidly built.
Arnitra brought me a glass of water and presented me with the separately bound drinks and food menus. She gave me a little time to consider before asking if I wanted a drink. I chose the wasabi martini, a volcanic concoction of vodka, citrus and powdered wasabi (Japanese green horseradish). I like wasabi and I loved the drink. As I was the only one in the place drinking this potable, I was immediately popular with the bartender. He asked how I liked it and I gave him a “thumbs up.”
Japanese restaurants are ideal for Lenten Fridays because of the enormous selection of vegetable and fish dishes. The food menu listed Starters (including two soups), Salads, Sushi/Sashimi, Classic Hand Rolls, Signature Rolls, Samurai Boat Entrees, Hot Entrees, and Desserts. It was tough to choose. I consulted Arnitra to get an idea of what people usually order and how much. She was very helpful.
The Samurai Boat Entrees looked interesting but the pre-assortment of sushi and sashimi was not enough. I’ve come to love the various sushi rolls and the dragon roll is one of my favorites. Bamboo 52 has one called the dinosaur and one called the American dream. It wasn’t easy.
Finally, I settled on two starters that were new to me and two crazy rolls. The two appetizers arrived simultaneously, but I didn’t mind because both were small and neither would get cold by the time I finished them. The vegetable gyoza was the hot appetizer and was delicate, crescent-shaped rice dumplings filled with shredded carrots, pepper, and cucumbers and served with a light soy dipping sauce. How delicate were they? Well, I’m pretty good with chopsticks and I broke one in half trying to pick it up. I had to lighten my touch. They were wonderful.
The second appetizer was totally new to me. The wasabi seaweed crisp was squares of crispy rice crackers painted with wasabi-flavored black seaweed and sprinkled with mini-cubes of tofu, tomato and pepper. One bite demolished one as I gingerly folded it into my mouth. It was a fun finger food. Once you know how breakable they are you can adjust your handling of them.
The bartender asked me if I wanted the next wasabi martini spicier and I told him to kick it up a notch. I saw Arnitra sniff my drink before serving and she drew back suddenly, as if electrically shocked. I tasted it and it was perfect. I gave the bar tender another “thumbs up.” On the side, I told Arnitra they tasted exactly the same.
The two signature rolls arrived next sharing a large oval platter. The one I noticed on a specials list was too outrageous to ignore. The St. Patrick’s sushi roll wrapped shrimp tempura, avocado, eel, and Cajun tuna in a green soy wrap with jalapeño sauce. Yes, it was quite green, but not as spicy as it sounds. The shrimp tempura was crunchy and flavorful and the other ingredients added extra sweet and tart flavors.
What other roll could share the plate with this one? I selected the rainbow roll, an eclectic mix of kani (snow crab), tuna, salmon, yellowtail, white tuna, avocado and cucumber, arranged in rainbow color order. I figured that since this was the first year that the gay community were invited to march in the St. Patrick’s Day Parade in New York, I would place the symbol (the rainbow) next to the green roll. It was great. So many different fish, different textures and different flavors melting into one delicious experience. Yes, there was the traditional blob of wasabi on the plate as well as the shaved ginger. Both were finished with the main course.
Usually Japanese restaurants have very little in the form of desserts. Maybe unusual flavors of ice cream or something with a banana, but Bamboo 52 had a triple milk cake (tres leches, essentially the same dessert I had last week in a Mexican restaurant, except that this one was made with mascarpone cheese). It was light, creamy, sweet, and would have put out any fire the wasabi had started (if it had).
I didn’t feel like having tea (which I would have in any traditional Japanese place), and this was a bar/lounge. I ordered a guavatini as an after-dinner drink. I love the flavor of guava and, mixed with vodka and other fruit juices it was the right ending for my dining adventure.
When I did my research, I learned that Bamboo 52 is nearly 10 years old, and except for my original chair, it doesn’t look like it’s aged a day. The crowd is diverse and obviously happy to be there. The staff is caring and the food is spectacular. There are 17 signature rolls on the menu. I need to come back at least seven times to try them all.
10 Cloverfield Lane
By Steve Herte
Two Addresses, No Names
After last week’s movie I decided to take the lesson it taught to heart. Make no decisions based on past performances. Things and people can change. I’m glad I did. The movie was better than I expected and the restaurant was like discovering a rare gem. Coincidentally, it was on Pearl Street. Enjoy!
10 Cloverfield Lane(Paramount, 2016) – Director: Dan Trachtenberg. Writers: Josh Campbell, Matthew Stuecken & Damien Chazelle (s/p). Josh Campbell, Matthew Stuecken (story). Stars: John Goodman, Mary Elizabeth Winstead,, John Gallagher, Jr., Suzanne Cryer, Bradley Cooper, & Sumalee Montano. In Color, Rated PG-13, 103 minutes.
I had my doubts about this movie after having seen the original Cloverfield in 2008. The hand-held camera photography was indistinct at best and dizzying at worst. If the purpose was to make me want to see more of the Godzilla-sized alien destroying New York City, then it achieved its purpose. But I wanted no more to do with hand-held. The previews of this film looked considerably steadier and promised a landmark performance by John Goodman. It delivered on both counts.
Definitely not a sequel to the original, 10 Cloverfield Lane begins in New Orleans, Louisiana, where Michelle (Winstead) is packing her things looking wistfully out the window of her apartment. She leaves her engagement ring and keys on a table and speeds off into the countryside toward Lake Charles. Her fiancée, Ben (voice of Cooper) calls her and begs her to come back apologizing for whatever argument they had, but Michelle doesn’t speak or answer. Suddenly, she’s in a violent car accident, spinning and rolling off the road into a gully. It isn’t until this moment we start to see the opening credits and the title of the film. It reminded me of something Hitchcock might do. They flash on between clashes of metal and breaking glass. Very effective. Also, the soundtrack plays a major role in 10 Cloverfield Lane.
Michelle wakes up to find she’s in a windowless room, hooked up to an intravenous feeder and wearing a jury-rigged knee-brace that’s handcuffed to the wall. After trying unsuccessfully to disengage herself, she disassembles the IV pole and uses it to hook her cell phone and bags across the room. Of course, there’s no service on her phone. The scene is very reminiscent of a Stephen King story. She hears horrendous heavy footsteps on metal stairs and the door unlatches with a terrifying screech, and we see (we assume) a man enter. She holds up both hands begging him not to hurt her (she’s assumed that she’s been abducted). The camera pans up to show Howard (Goodman), who tells her he’s not going to hurt her, he’s trying to keep her alive. He sets down a segmented plate of food, rights the IV pole and leaves, sealing her in.
Already this film is not like the previous one with similar title. As it progresses, we meet Emmett (Gallagher Jr.) who helped Howard build this elaborate bunker/fallout shelter in anticipation of a nuclear war, a chemical holocaust or (we hope) an alien invasion. He’s young, attractive and sports a full beard and his left arm is in a sling. Why? Apparently, he saw a huge explosion like none he’s ever seen before and, in the process of trying to get into the bunker, Howard injured his arm trying to stop him.
Howard, unshaven and rumpled, comes off as an extreme conspiracy fanatic who’s convinced the end has come, the air outside is not only unbreathable, but irradiated, and he’s resolved to staying underground for years. Even though he takes Michelle up to the exit door and shows her the bloody mess that was everything that remained of his two prize pigs, she’s not convinced. She flirts with Emmett at dinner to make Howard mad and distract him so that she can steal his keys and escape. But just as she gets to the exit, she sees a woman (Cryer) with red sores all over her face begging to come in. Between Howard’s shouts not to and the increasing lunacy of the woman outside, Michelle decides it’s safer inside.
Howard tells Michelle of his daughter Megan and refers to her often through the movie, even showing her a photo. When the air compressor malfunctions, it’s Michelle who has to crawl through the air ducts to reset it, and when she does, she discovers another hatchway to the outside. The window has the word “Help” scratched onto it and there is blood. She finds the earring used to etch the word into the plastic.
When she returns from the compressor, Howard orders her to shower and gives her Megan’s clothes to wear as a change from her “possibly contaminated” clothing. Later, she and Emmett find a photo album. He tells her the photo Howard showed her was not Megan and a photo drops out showing the real Megan with Howard and she’s wearing the T-shirt Michelle is now wearing, as well as the earrings she found. They conclude that Howard is a psychopath and they must escape.
Magazines in the bunker give Michelle (an amateur fashion designer) the idea to create a protective suit and a gas mask to facilitate escape and get help. After her shower, Howard had disposed of the shower curtain in the trash receptacle but Michelle retrieves it with the IV pole hook. She makes the outfit, hiding it under her mattress whenever Howard appears in her room. But you know he’s going to find it, and he does.
SPOILER ALERT FOR THE REST OF THE MOVIE REVIEW: Howard orders them to move a very heavy barrel to the bathroom to help with disposal of waste. Opening it, he shows them the perchloric acid inside and threatens them with being plunged into it if they do no tell him what they’ve been planning. Emmett takes the full blame and makes up a story and Howard pulls his gun and shoots him. The noise not only deafens the characters but the audience as well and the sound slowly comes back.
Michelle is in shock (again). Howard tells her he’ll clean up “the mess” and, when he does, he returns shaven and neatly dressed. Michelle knows what that means. She runs from her room closing the door, thinking it will lock him in and heads for the kitchen and an aerosol can which Howard used to chill a cup of vodka. When Howard appears (hey, he built this place), she trips him and kicks over the barrel of acid on him while he’s lying on the floor. Now she’s an accomplished gymnast as she vaults over him – avoiding the pool of acid – retrieves her protective suit, ties it to her ankle and worms her way through the air ducts while he stabs at her with a knife.
The acid has eaten through a lamp wire and a fire starts. We see various signs saying “flammable.” Michelle uses the aerosol spray to freeze and break the lock on the hatch and escapes. She’s stunned at the blue skies and the sunset and the healthy foliage and a flock of ducks flying overhead. The air is breathable. A truck is there. She hears something and climbs on top to see. What initially looks like a helicopter turns out to be an alien vessel and there’s a scaly monster on the ground galloping toward her. While Howard’s bunker explodes around her. she on the run again.
I had great expectations for 10 Cloverfield Lane and, though it lagged in places, I was surprised to find that I never knew which way the plot would turn. The whole forward motion and suspense of the film was generated by the brilliant soundtrack. Even horrors that were not revealed were foreboding because of it. John Goodman did indeed perform a masterly role as crackpot fanatic. But unlike a Stephen King story, there’s hope at the end and the hint of a sequel. Maybe we’ll get to see more of the aliens in the next one. And they can be defeated. The voice (Montano) on the car radio said that there are survivors in Houston and that they’ve “secured the southern seaboard.”
I seem to be finding Mexican restaurants in the least likely places. This one is in a building built in 1831, on the same block as Fraunces Tavern, where George Washington made his farewell address to his troops. There has been a restaurant at 66 Pearl St. for 11 years, but this incarnation is only 10 months old. It’s a good thing I’ve seen a photo of La Dama because neither the address nor the name are visible anywhere on the outside.
I knew where Pearl Street was as I power-walked from west to east in downtown Manhattan. The south bridge from the World Financial Center was closed and Ihad to find a traffic light to cross the West Side Highway. But good fortune was with me and the area where the Twin Towers once stood (I hate the term “Ground Zero”) was not walled off and I could cut some time by walking through and admire the fountains sparkling in the night. Finally, on Pearl Street I walked south when I saw the address 160 and knowing the addresses increase from south to north. I recognized the restaurant from the photo and checked the address on the next door and it was 66.
The white exterior was made even brighter by the lights of a film crew shooting on location. As I entered the black airlock door, I was momentarily stunned by how small the space was. The bar occupied a third of the room and if there were 15 tables, it was a lot. But the place was buzzing with conversation, piped music and three flat-screen televisions going at the same time. I asked the young lady who would eventually become my server if I was indeed at La Dama. She said yes and acknowledged my reservation (there was no Captain’s Station to speak of). Toni led me to a corner table by the window and I chose the beige banquette facing the front. She brought me a glass of water and presented the menu (both food and drink) in a nicely bound two-page book.
As the website states, the cuisine of “The Lady” is Mexican/Latin. The menu features many interesting choices in the understated categories of Appetizers, Salads, Tacos, Sandwiches, Entrées, Sides, and Sweets. The variety of seafood and vegetable dishes was splendid. Toni asked me if I wanted a drink and I chose the Dulce Vida Margarita – Dulce Vida tequila, triple sec, lemon juice and garnished with a slice of lime. Served in an old-fashioned screw-top jar, it was golden yellow with pink accents and had a remarkably sweet taste. I loved it and told Toni. She agreed. It’s her favorite too. I needed more time to choose my dinner and Toni said she’d be back in 10 minutes.
At our next rendezvous, I gave Toni my selections and she commented that they were all excellent. I didn’t even mention my slow eating habits and limitless time, but it didn’t matter. No dish was served too early.
My first course was one I’ve loved since the first time and the chef at La Dama made it perfectly. The tortilla soup was a light tomato broth with both cheddar and Monterrey jack cheese, cubes of avocado and strips of blue corn tortillas. The combination of flavors was amazing. I told Toni that it was so good that it made me forget my wonderful margarita. And no, it was not spicy, just savory.
All of the salads on the menu were enticing and I asked Toni to help me. She chose two. It was between the pomegranate and goat cheese salad with toasted pecans, and the kale and pear salad with goat cheese and crumbled bleu cheese vinaigrette with toasted pumpkin seeds. I chose the kale. The respectable mound of crisp, fresh green kale was delicious, with strips of pear on top and the cheeses crumbled throughout. My first taste of kale was rather jarring as it had a much stronger flavor than lettuce or even spinach. But this salad was a milder flavor than that and I enjoyed every bite.
There was still a little salad left when my main course and side arrived but it was easy to slide the dish to the side and nibble at it at intervals. The pan-seared branzino (a Mediterranean Sea bass) was butterflied with head and tail attached and a beautiful appetizing color, sprinkled with Mexican spices and wearing a collar of cilantro. A grilled lemon shared the plate with the fish. The side was roasted Brussels sprouts, a brilliant shade of green.
Aside from the spinal bone (there were virtually no other bones), the meat was melt-in-the-mouth tender. Even the skin was delicious. I left nothing but the head, tail and spine. The sprouts tasted like maple syrup, a part of their sauce, and were only slightly crisp, perfect. Once again I forgot my margarita. The salad was still a delight as I finished it last.
There were only three desserts on the menu and one was a favorite of mine. The “Tres Leches" cake – sponge cake in a sweet milk sauce and topped by a sweet cheese icing garnished with a strawberry crown and surrounded by blueberries – was another wonder in a dinner of wonders. The latte accompanying it was a great, rich contrast in flavor and needed no sweetener added. Since the margarita was so good I asked Toni if I could have the Dulce Vida tequila as an after-dinner drink. She thought it was a great idea and soon I had a small tumbler in front of me. Forget what you know about the flavor (or lack of one) in tequila. This one deserves the title “dulce” (sweet). It’s comparable to a good cognac.
La Dama is ultimately worth several return visits for not only the seafood and vegetable dishes but for the meat dishes as well. How are these for instance: butternut squash soup with spiced croutons, grilled octopus or mahi mahi tacos, a pork chop in tamarind-chili ancho sauce or garlic parmesan fries? Sounds good to me.
Gods of Egypt
By Steve Herte
Gods of Egypt(Lionsgate, 2016) – Director: Alex Proyas. Writers: Matt Sazama& Burk Sharpless. Stars: Brenton Thwaites, John Samaha, Courtney Eaton, Nikolaj Coster-Waldau, Paula Arundell, Alia Seror-O’Neill, Emily Wheaton, Elodie Yung, Rachael Blake, Bryan Brown, Michael-Anthony Taylor, Emma Booth, Felix Williamson, Chadwick Boseman, Gerard Butler, Rufus Sewell, Kenneth Ransom, & Nathyn Bolton. Color and in 3D, Rated PG-13, 127 minutes.
In a spectacular opening, the audience is soaring over mountains, fields and the river Nile until we come to a city dominated by a colossal gold statue (presumably of Ra) while a narrator explains. “The gods of Egypt so loved their worshipers that they lived among them. The gods were taller (much taller) and could transform into animal shapes.” Osiris (Brown) (king of the gods and Egypt) is preparing for a celebration. He will be handing his crown and his rule over to his son Horus (Coster-Waldau). Horus, meanwhile thinks very little of this honor and even less of his ardent adorers.
The narrator turns out to be Bek (Thwaites), a young mortal thief deeply in love with Zaya (Eaton), a pretty, but poor mortal girl. He knows she’s preparing for the coronation and swipes a bejeweled gown for her to wear to it. Together, they head for the temple along with hundreds of other people bearing gifts for the gods.
At the temple, a stage has been set and the gods and goddesses are being announced as they arrive, comparable to a Hollywood premiere, except that I couldn’t understand a single word the barker was saying (the background noise was too loud). Osiris steps forward and calls Horus to his side. But just before the crown is to be bestowed, Set (Butler), brother to Osiris, finally arrives. Set has spent his entire life in the desert while Osiris was living a life of luxury (one can understand why he might be bitter). Set presents Horus with a hunting horn made from a special ram and invites him to try it out.
Foolishly, the vain Horus does and it summons Set’s mortal troops, a seemingly endless line of red-clad, spear-toting soldiers who storm through the center of the crowd like a river of blood, eventually surrounding them. They then turn to the people and threaten them with their weaponry. Osiris is outraged. Set kills him with one spear thrust and then has to do battle with Horus. This fight literally brings the house down as the two transform into their golden animal forms – Horus the falcon versus the unknown animal hybrid. Onstage, Nephthys (Booth), Set’s winged sister, protects Isis (Blake) and Hathor (Yung) with her outspread wings.
Set wins the battle and steals Horus’ “all-seeing” eyes, blinding him. Horus goes into hiding in the desert and Set takes over the kingdom of Egypt, enslaving the entire populace and forcing them to build an enormous tower to Ra. Zaya is fortunate enough to be enlisted as the maid servant to the Master Builder Urshu (Sewell) and we see how indelicate he can be when a gust of wind blows his papyrus scrolls from his desk and she has to pick them up while being berated for not closing a shutter.
Bek however, has eluded capture and enslavement and visits his love unseen. He has her take him to the library, where he learns the location of Horus’ eyes (of course, not in the same place) and he travels to Set’s treasure room, braving the three death-trap bridges to secure one of them. But when he returns to Zaya, he finds that Urshu knows where he went, what scrolls were out of place, and demands their return. Bek hands him a small trinket but then pulls out the Eye of Horus, temporarily blinding all in the room, and escapes with Zaya in a chariot (conveniently parked outside) drawn by two white horses.
But Bek doesn’t consider Urshu’s skill with bow and arrow. Urshu kills Zaya before they leave the city. When he arrives at Horus’ hideout, he makes a deal with the blind god to bring Zaya back from the dead for the return of his eyes. Horus agrees, knowing this is something he cannot do.
Set’s delight at his ridiculously tall – 2,220 cubits/3,330 feet (the Dubai Tower is only 2,722 feet tall) – monument to Ra pales at his anger at a mortal who successfully thwarted the traps set by his Master Builder in his treasure room. He’s also not happy learning that Horus is no longer blind and in prison.
Horus and Bek climb another impossibly high mountain to a shrine to Ra that looks strangely like a child’s version of a Stargate. Horus implores Ra to grant him the power to transform (taken away, we assume by the loss of his eyes and not returned by regaining one) and Ra allows the two to travel to his celestial chariot. But Ra is too busy fighting Apophis (God of snakes, war and chaos), who manifests himself as a colossal dust storm with several rounds of sharp teeth in a gaping mouth. Without direct help from Ra, Horus scoops up a vial of the Heavenly river with which to put Set’s “fire” and therefore defeat him.
Shortly after crashing to the ground back in Egypt, Bek and Horus are beset by minions of Set led by Khnum a ram-headed god and Set’s guard (voiced by Bolton). Bek is thrown off another impossibly high cliff and Horus plunges after him, breaking their fall with his spear between two upright columns of stone. I had no idea Egypt had so many high places that remind me of a Road Runner/Coyote cartoon.
Meanwhile, Hathor, the goddess of love, tries to conjure up a dust-devil crystal ball to find Horus’s location. Set catches her but she uses her bracelet of 42 stars to transport to the underworld and out of his reach before he can kill her. She pops back into the mortal world to warn Horus about the sphinx at Set’s shrine. The three head for the secret palace of Thoth (Boseman), god of wisdom, who seems to be more interested in singing the praises of a head of cabbage than helping to save the world. But Bek uses his vanity to trick Thoth into accompanying them to Set’s shrine to get Horus’ other eye.
At the pyramid shrine, there are more traps, including the gigantic, lumbering sphinx (Ransom), whose riddle has be answered or you die. (And…it’s not the easy one Oedipus had to solve.) They manage to get it right after two incorrect answers and two violent reactions when Bek tells them to stop thinking like gods. Unfortunately, when they get to Set’s fire, Horus and Hathor are imprisoned in a trap, Set appears and steals Thoth’s brain and stops Bek from pouring the heavenly water by revealing Horus’ lie about being able to bring Zaya back. Set brings the house down once again, and collapses the entire pyramid on them, but Horus saves everyone with a huge circular stone as an umbrella.
Feeling the love Bek has for Zaya, Hathor lets him talk to her once more through one of her dust-devils, but Anubis cuts them off: “It is forbidden for the dead to speak to the living.” Zaya is almost at the eighth gate of the underworld where she will be judged and she has nothing to offer as a price. (In true Egyptian mythology, her heart has to be weighed against a feather and come off lighter to gain the afterlife.) Hathor summons Anubis, gives Bek her bracelet, and is captured by the demons it wards off. Bek accompanies Anubis to the underworld.
Set was surprised at the killing of four of his best soldiers and the wounding of his guard but remains undeterred. He continues with his plan as he viciously cuts off the wings from Nephthys and has them attached to his back, has the brain of Thoth installed in his head, and the remaining Eye of Horus plugged into his forehead like Bindi. He then can fly to Ra for his approval to rule all of Egypt and the Underworld. But Ra wants him to take his place fighting Apophis. No, he doesn’t want that. He battles Ra, stabs him with his spear and casts him into the heavenly waters.
Taking Ra’s sun spear, Set calls down Apophis to engorge himself with the Nile and spread chaos. In the Underworld, Zaya and Bek are reunited, but she’s insubstantial and suddenly chaos breaks out there as well and Anubis does his best to hold it off. How can Set, the super-god, be stopped? Rely on Bek.
In the golden age of movies, this film would have merited the headlines, “Colossal,” “Grander than Grand,” and “Cast of Thousands!” But today, we know most of those people are CGI, as are the huge sets. I was impressed that the sphinx had more than one riddle. I loved the effect of the human-looking gods transforming into their animal forms and was amazed at the lack of gore considering the violence (the gods bleed gold).
Gods of Egypt is a fanciful version of Egyptian mythology and has many parallels to the writings in The Book of the Dead. But it has one real problem: According to legend, when Set killed Osiris, he cut him up into 42 pieces (the number of provinces in Egypt) and scattered them throughout Egypt. Isis searched for the pieces and reassembled them. Then, in the form of a bird, she copulated with the complete Osiris and gave birth to Horus. So Horus could not have been present at the killing of Osiris. Oh well. But this is the movies, where details are adjusted for plot enhancements.
There is plenty of action in the film, though at times it became dizzying (the flight scenes in particular). The dialogue was occasionally clever and funny, though most times it was trite and often incomprehensible. The big draw here are the special effects, but even in this category the makers didn’t pull out all the stops. All the major gods transform except Thoth! I wanted to see the Ibis-headed god, not just a self-centered effeminate know-it-all. I actually didn’t want to see Hathor transform into a cow-headed thing though and they didn’t do that either.
Agreed, Egyptian mythology is complex with many illicit relationships (which are not mentioned, thank the gods), but there was more to do in this movie. I enjoyed and marveled at what was there, but given a $140,000,000 budget, I expected more.
When you’ve dined at over 140 Indian restaurants, you’d better keep a database if you want to keep visiting new ones. I really had to make sure. The picture on Opentable.com didn’t look familiar and the name was almost, but not quite, like another. I checked my list. The area around Murray Hill and into Kip’s Bay is a second enclave of Indian restaurants in Manhattan. (The first is 6th Street in the East Village.)
Haldi’s menu variety was perfect for a Friday in Lent, with lots of vegetable dishes and different seafood recipes. As I approached 27th Street, I saw a place called Haandi and momentarily thought I had misread the name. But, across Lexington Avenue, was Haldi with its name in big, yellow, Broadway style lights.
I entered and found myself in a small bar section where there were about five tiny tables for two and one occupied by a jolly, smiling Indian gentleman who greeted me. A little farther and two servers met me. I announced my reservation and one led me to a table in the main dining area right in the middle of one wall. I sat on the green, brown and beige banquette and faced the wall-sized mirror. I looked up at the chandeliers (made of green glass bottles) surrounding a globe-shaped bulb and the bronze woks attached decoratively to the ceiling. The effect was amazing. The 15-table room looked much bigger than it actually was.
My server, Sarin, brought me the menu and the wine list on two separate cards. He brought a bottle of tap water, poured me a glass and left me to consider. The food menu had many choices I’ve never seen before and imaginative categories: Starters, Hemant Mathur’s (the Chef) Famous Kebabs, Biryani, Spicy Club, Celebrating Calcutta, Traditional Favorites, Lamb and Goat, Seafood, Vegan, Vegetarian, Breads, Sides, Desserts. I tried to choose exotic. It was easy.
When Sarin returned, I ordered an interesting cocktail, the Kamasutra – vodka, gin and rum blended with mango and fresh strawberries – served in a stemmed, margarita-style glass. It was sweet, fruity with a slight kick. Very nice.
My “starter” arrived soon after. The jhal nuri – tossed puffed rice, cucumber, peanuts, and lime topped with shredded coconut – was delightful, a house specialty. Using a spoon I tried to get every layer of ingredients from this beautifully formed dish. It was crunchy, slightly spicy, aromatic and very filling. I ate cautiously and eventually decided to only eat half, knowing what was coming.
The second course arrived before I was halfway through the first dish, but there was no problem. The jhal muri was not a hot dish, only room temperature, and I set it aside. The tandoor bharwan was described as paneer (cheese) stuffed potatoes but it was so much more. Also a house specialty, the hollowed-out potatoes were filled with crumbled yellow home-made cottage cheese and topped with sharp red onion slices and a lemon wedge for a little citrus zing. It was hot in temperature and I figured it would not be so good if it got cold.
The wine arrived with the tandoor bharwan. Frankly, I was surprised at there being two Greek red wines on the list for an Indian restaurant. I chose the 2012 Eurynome Blend Xinomavro/Negoska Greek red wine named after an ancient Greek goddess from the creation myth. (Eurynome split sky from sea and danced on the waters giving birth to the elemental entirety of Earth uniting wisdom and divinity.) It was a perfect accompaniment, not too tannic, medium bodied, and a lovely accent to the spices.
Sarin noticed that half of my first dish was still there and asked if he could bring the main course. I told him to bring it, I could always nibble. Meanwhile, two gentlemen were seated to my right and one was enjoying the papadum to an extreme, sounding like a chipmunk with a cracker. (A lot of little crunches.) I gave him the remaining half of mine and he was very grateful.
Beside the fact that it was a seafood dish, I chose the goan balchao – shrimp in a creamy sauce with coconut, jaggery (a sugar made from the date palm tree) and vinegar – because it was a Goan dish. Goan cuisine is a rare find on Indian menus because of the level of spice. But I was in for a surprise. The tender shrimp in the pumpkin-colored sauce was delicious and only mildly spicy. It was excellent over the basmati rice with the splendid garlic nan bread. The manager came to my table and asked how it was. I told him how wonderful it tasted… “But you were expecting more spice.” “Yes, it is a dish from Goa.” He went on to explain that they purposely tone down the spices for American tastes. I told him that if they had asked me about the level of spice, I would have requested that the dish be made authentically, not changed in any way.
Packing the remainder of the rice and the first course to go, I was ready for dessert. There were only three on the menu. One I’ve had in almost every Indian restaurant I’ve enjoyed. I chose the rasmalai this time – flattened cheese balls in cream with nuts. It’s a simple dessert but very nice and light. This, with a cup of hot masala chai (spiced tea) ended my feast in the place whose name means turmeric in Hindi.
Haldi surprised me in several ways. The photo on the website showed simple, bare-topped tables and chairs in shades of green and yellow. What I saw was neat white tablecloths and butcher’s paper on all the tables. It added a touch of class to an informal dining room. Not all Indian restaurants have interesting cocktails. This one does. And then there’s the food menu with all those choices. I would return just to celebrate Calcutta. Haldi is only four months old but it makes quite an impression.
Risen By Steve Herte
Risen(Columbia, 2016) – Director: Kevin Reynolds. Writers: Kevin Reynolds (s/p) & Paul Aiello (s/p and story). Stars: Joseph Fiennes, Tom Felton, Peter Firth, Cliff Curtis, Maria Botto, Luis Vallejo, Antonio Gil, Richard Atwill, Stephen Greif, Stewart Scudamore, Andy Gathergood, Stephen Hagan, Mish Boyko, Jan Cornet, Frida Cauchi, Karim Saleh, Joe Manjon, & Pepe Lorente. Color, Rated PG-13, 107 minutes.
As the film opens, a lone figure in dusty, common garb is roaming the barren, rocky area in what we learn later is Galilee. He stops at the only dwelling place and the owner offers him food and rest. Noticing his signet ring, the proprietor recognizes him as a Roman tribune by the name of Clavius (Fiennes). With a haunted look, he sits down to tell his tale.
A brief scuffle between a troop of Roman soldiers and several rock-throwing Jewish zealots led by a zealot leader (Saleh) is easily extinguished and he is captured. After he babbles about the Messiah King rising up and crushing Rome, he is slain by Clavius.
Pontius Pilate (Firth) has put Clavius in charge of the three men crucified on Golgotha. Before riding there, the sky darkens and an earthquake rocks Jerusalem, cracking the thick stone gates of the palace he’s just left. When Clavius arrives at Golgotha, he notes that the two thieves are still alive and orders their legs to be broken. But when he looks up into the still-open eyes of the third victim of Roman justice, he realizes the man is dead and hears the anguished cries of Mary (Cauchi), Yeshua’s (Curtis) mother. He belays the command to break his legs, instead ordering the piercing of his side with a lance.
As the soldiers are brutally letting the crosses fall with their occupants still on them, Joseph of Arimathea (Gil), a member of the Sanhedrin, presents Clavius with a papyrus scroll signing the body of Yeshua over to his care. Clavius orders his men to allow the family to see to the burial of Yeshua.
Back at Pilate’s palace, there is concern expressed by Chief Priest Caiaphas (Greif) that Yeshua’s followers will steal the body from the tomb and claim the truth of his prediction that he will rise in three days. Pilate assigns Lucius (Felton) to be Clavius’ aide and orders him to seal the tomb and set a watch over it. Soon many thick ropes anchored to the walls of the tomb crisscross each other over a huge stone and are set in place by large wads of red wax imprinted with his seal. Clavius assigns two of his best men to guard the tomb overnight ignoring their protests that they haven’t slept in two days.
The two soldiers station themselves despondently by the tomb and while one builds a fire, the other pulls out a skin of wine. The next day, Pilate is notified by his aide that the tomb is open and the body is gone. Before he can cover up the news, however, Caiaphas and the Sanhedrin storm in and accuse the Roman soldiers of incompetence.
Pilate summons Clavius and orders him to find the body. Setting Lucius out to arrest anyone speaking about the risen Nazarene, he interviews them one by one. No one seems to know anything until Lucius brings in Joses (Vallejo), whose poverty overrules his sense of right and wrong, and he gives them the name of Mary Magdalene (Botto).
In one of the lighter moments of this movie, Clavius asks a gathering of his soldiers if they know of Mary Magdalene. First, one hand goes up, then another, then several others. But when brought for questioning, Mary speaks in ecstatic riddles and Clavius concludes that she’s mentally unstable. Returning to Joses, Clavius manages to buy the name of Bartholomew (Hagen) from him and the disciple is brought in for questioning.
As stolid as Mary Magdalene was, Bartholomew is bubbling over with joy. When threatened with crucifixion, he happily kneels down and welcomes it. Clavius tosses a nail at him and describes the agony of hanging from these and not being able to breathe. Clavius then asks where the disciples are and with a grin on his face, Bartholomew leaves with the word, “Everywhere.”
There’s nothing left for Clavius and Lucius but to take the soldiers and search every house in Jerusalem. Spotting Mary Magdalene ducking into a doorway, Clavius follows her. He opens the door to find the disciples sitting down to dinner. But the big surprise is who is with them: Yeshua himself, living, breathing, eating and drinking and showing the wounds in his hands and sides to Thomas.
Silently, and with utter disbelief, Clavius sits staring until Yeshua suddenly disappears. He learns from the disciples that they will see him again in Galilee. Calling off the enthusiastic Lucius and not telling him what he found, Clavius decides to follow the disciples to Galilee by himself. Being loyal, he leaves a note for Pilate, and, of course, Lucius takes a cohort to follow him. Clavius’ evasion tactics throw the cohort off their trail, but he has to convince Lucius as well, who was not fooled by his deceit.
Risen tells the New Testament story of Jesus’ resurrection believably from the Roman point of view. There are several “could have been” moments not defined in detail in the Gospels: There could have been a Roman tribune at supper with the disciples. He could have been in the fishing boat when the nets were lowered and the catch nearly swamped the boat. He could have witnessed the healing of a leper and the final ascension.
The portrayals of Clavius by Joseph Fiennes and Yeshua by Cliff Curtis were magnificent, with the hardened Roman soldier, believing and praying only to the god Mars, meeting the gentle, loving, all-forgiving son of Mary (who really didn’t have that big a part). Maria Botto’s performance as Mary Magdalene was also brilliant.
Without being evangelistic, Risen puts a novel slant on a well-known story and does so with minimum brutality (we don’t actually see the soldiers breaking legs), and maximum grace. The whole family could enjoy this movie. The 1 hour and 47 minutes pass before you know it. And even though we may know how events unfold, we still wonder where the film will go next, causing us later to say to ourselves, “Of course, that’s where it should have gone.” It a beautiful, powerful film, released timely, and one that will be remembered.
The name of this wonderful eatery brings to mind such images as what you think of when I say “sea shack cuisine,” “lobster rolls” and “north shore,” yet it’s located on the ritzy upper west side of Manhattan, directly across the street from Lincoln Center.
Passing through a canvas airlock door and up two small flights of stairs wrapped around hanging glass “bubbles,” I arrived at the Captain’s Station and announced my reservation. The young lady led me through the airy, high-ceilinged space, decorated in stripes of sandy earth tones, and through a grand archway formed by a towering wine rack (with a rolling ladder, as one would see in venerable libraries) to my table by a window.
I sat on the cream-colored banquette as she moved the table to give me room, wished me a bon appetite and pushed the table back into place. An enormous mirror dominated the wall opposite me and I could see a large ring-shaped chandelier in the next room.
My server, Daria arrived with the food and drink menus. After looking over the imaginative cocktail list, I was ready when Daria returned. They did serve Beefeater gin and I ordered my favorite martini. It was perfect – a rarity. Daria took this opportunity to cite the two specials of the day, both appetizers, a foie gràs torchon and a carpaccio, neither of which I could have on a Friday in Lent.
The food menu included Raw Bar, Shellfish Platters, Chowders, Appetizers, Simple Mains (this is where we see lobster rolls), Composed Mains (more elaborate dishes), and Sides. It took me a while to decide, as there were so many choices. The wine list was also very impressive and remarkably affordable for this area of town. However, remembering my experience from last week’s restaurant, it was easy to choose: the 2013 “Deusa Nai” Albariño from Rias Baixas, Spain. It is a glorious white, with a crisp flavor lighter than a chardonnay and with a refreshing aftertaste.
Daria was very patient as I listed my choices and she advised which dish should come out first. Since this was my first time at Ed’s Chowder House, it only stood to reason that my first course be the chowder sampler: a mushroom chowder with truffle oil and chives, a New England-style clam chowder, and a Manhattan-style blue crab chowder. The New England clam chowder was creamy and good and the clams tender but it couldn’t surpass the best I had in Boston. The Manhattan-style was delicious and spicier than anything on the cajun menu I had last week. But it was the unique flavor of the mushroom chowder that won the day. When I tasted it, the earthy, musky fullness of truffles and pureed mushrooms was pure Heaven.
I rarely have mussels, but this next dish promised something different. The spicy steamed Holland mussels with sourdough croutons was one of those dishes where the sauce is so good one might well ask ask for a spoon. I did, and quickly emptied the black and green shells of their delicate contents into that wonderful spicy, green and red pepper strewn soup. Holland mussels are about the size of the last joint of your pinky finger and have a light flavor of their own, but it was the liquid part of this dish that almost set me into a food frenzy. The “croutons” were long slices of sourdough bread, lightly toasted and great for spooning mussels and soaking up sauce.
My next dish was the blue crab lasagna with béchamel and marinara sauce: lasagna filled with delicate, shredded blue crab meat and the béchamel was topped (but not drowned) by the marinara and crowned with a sprig of fresh basil. I had to cut it carefully to get all the layers at once and found it amazing. The side dish was Ed’s version of mac & cheese and it was a hefty one, the only dish I couldn’t finish and had packed up to go.
When it came to dessert I followed Daria’s recommendation and chose the lemon meringue pie. It was lovely. The meringue was just a foamy, toasted wave on top of a brick of lemony goodness that eclipsed the thin crust at its base. A double espresso was de rigueur after this feast.
Ed’s is almost a year old. It’s co-owned by Jeffrey Chodorow of China Grill Restaurant fame (and one of my favorite return places) at 60 W. 53rd St. I was not surprised to learn this considering the quality of the food and service at Ed’s. It looks like I have another “return” place here.
By Steve Herte
Deadpool(20th Century Fox, 2016) – Director: Tim Miller. Writers: Rhett Reese & Paul Wernick (s/p). Fabian Nicieza & Rob Liefield (characters). Stars: Ryan Reynolds, Karan Soni, T.J. Miller, Morena Baccarin, Kyle Cassie, Ed Krein, Gina Carano, Stefan Kapicic, Brianna Hildebrand, & Leslie Uggams. Color, Rated R, 108 minutes.
After a list of joke opening credits, including “Written by: The True Heroes of this film,” the scene opens inside a cab driven by Dopinder (Soni). His only passenger is Deadpool (Reynolds). Lonely, Deadpool climbs through the tiny window into the front seat and starts giving Dopinder advice on getting his girl back from his best friend. He stops the cab on a highway overpass, pays Dopinder with a high five, and waits on the railing. Breaking the fourth wall for the first of many times in the movie, he explains that he’s not a hero, just a “bad guy kicking the asses of badder guys,” and he leaps onto a passing black panel truck and starts a battle that ends with a huge car crash and bodies littering the roadway.
The theater was a large one and was nearly full. This is amazing to me considering I had no idea who (or what) Deadpool was and they obviously did. For those of you in as much darkness as I was, I learned that back in the 1990s, two writers, Rob Liefeld and Fabian Nicieza created the character for Marvel Comics as a super-villain with a mouthful of ferocious pointed teeth. But with the advent of the X-Men, in particular, Wolverine (whom Deadpool alludes to in one of his conversations with the audience), he evolved into an anti-hero. I was attracted to this film by the trailers and his unbridled wit. In the comics, Deadpool’s insensitive and sometimes insulting (but always funny) sense of humor brought him the title the “Merc with a Mouth.” And I just thought he was an amalgam of Spiderman and Groucho Marx.
The film now does a backtrack to when Wade Winston Wilson (real name of Deadpool) was a highly-skilled mercenary fighter with lethal weaponry acumen. His best friend goes by the handle of Weasel (Miller), a bartender in Wade’s favorite hangout. Over the bar hangs a blackboard “Dead Pool” showing how many bets were made by the patrons on who would die next. Fights break out in the bar for the least reason and Wade starts one by sending a drink called a “blow-job” (kahlua, Bailey’s Irish Cream, and whipped cream) to the biggest guy there. Everyone is disappointed that no one is killed at the end of the fight.
Wade meets the love of his life, Vanessa (Baccarin) – you might know the actress for her portrayal of the leader of the Visitors in the television series V (2009), or as Detective Gordon’s true love, Dr. Leslie Thompkins on Gotham, or as the evil Erica Flynn on The Mentalist. Their mutual insanity and unpredictability is what draws them together. But when Wade is diagnosed with prostate cancer, he has second thoughts about staying with her and “pulling her into this.” After learning that Weasel bet on him in the Dead Pool and might win his bet, Wade meets Gavin Merchant (Cassie).
Wade makes several Men In Black jokes about Gavin’s resemblance to Tommy Lee Jones before he hears that Gavin knows someone who can cure his cancer. With no explanation, he leaves Vanessa and soon is introduced to “Doctor” Ajax (Krein) – real name, Francis, but he hates it – who is no more a doctor than I am. But he wins Wade’s trust and subjects him to whippings, dunking in gooey slime, ice baths, and vicious torture to “jump start a mutation” in him. The last treatment is an oxygen deprivation tube that deforms Wade’s skin as it eventually cures his cancer and grants him hyper-healing powers. Per Weasel, “You look like an avocado who married and uglier avocado…” But the sadistic Ajax leaves Wade in too long. Before being locked in a second time, Wade head butts Ajax’s wooden match-chewing assistant Angel Dust (Carano) and swipes a match from her mouth. He uses this to blow up Ajax’s entire laboratory through the oxygen feed pipe. The two fight in the burning building with Ajax using his super-strength (he’s also a mutant) to impale Wade on a rebar, and escapes.
But, Phoenix-like Wade rises from the ashes and is determined to find Francis (he calls him this just to annoy him) to either have his looks restored or to kill him. Because of his deformity he hesitates going back to Vanessa and the scene reverts to the beginning. He’s found Francis and has pinned him to the guardrail on the highway with one of the crossed swords he wears on his back.
The plan is interrupted by two X-Men who believe Deadpool’s talents would be better channeled toward doing good. One is an enormous metallic CGI muscleman with a Russian accent named Colossus (voiced by Kapicic). The other is a young girl with closely cropped black hair calling herself Megasonic Teenage Warhead (Hildebrand). They unintentionally distract Deadpool from Francis long enough for him to escape while he makes Sinead O’Connor jokes about the girl and, referring to the character Ripley from Alien. Colossus hand-cuffs Deadpool and starts dragging him off, but Deadpool escapes by cutting off his own hand with surprisingly minimal gore.
Since he won’t go back to Vanessa, Wade is staying with Blind Al – short for Alice (Uggams) and he returns there until his hand grows back. Meanwhile, Francis has moved his base of operations to a decrepit, rusting, grounded aircraft carrier and has kidnapped Vanessa to get Deadpool to come to him. The final battle scene is almost hilarious as Deadpool fights Francis and his men, Colossus is evenly matched with the seemingly indestructible Angel Dust, and Megasonic pitches in where needed.
The comic opening credits promised a villain with a British accent (Ajax) and a gratuitous famous cameo. This came during a scene in a strip club where the DJ, Stan Lee (the legendary former head of Marvel Comics), gets everyone on the dance floor.
Were not for the main character’s constant quips, insults and malaprops (“What’s a nice place like this doing in a girl like you?”), this movie would be unbearably brutal. The action scenes are filled with characters being slammed into and by enormously heavy things, blades thrusting into various body parts and numerous crotch shots as well as over-the-top pummelings. The vulgarity is kept to a surprising minimum as is the gore but the violence is exceedingly high (it got the movie banned in China). Parents, take this into consideration before taking sensitive children to this one.
Overall, I enjoyed the writing, though sometimes crude, most times very funny. I understood the character Deadpool, though did not identify with him (or any of the cast for that matter). It’s not a movie I would own, but I might watch it again to catch some of the funny lines I missed.
I love cajun cuisine. It’s perfect for the Lenten season, when I forgo meat on Fridays. And the location was a surprise as well, being in that area of Manhattan in the West Thirties I refer to as the “restaurant desert” (not too many good ones).
Looking down the south side of 33rd Street, you won’t see CajunSea until you’re there. Though the name is engraved on the glass above and on the two doors, and is also in blue neon in the main window, it’s an understated entrance. Inside, is an attractive black and white tile floor leading past a long seafood bar edged with clams on ice with fragile-looking aluminum stools (some backless). There was no one at the Captain’s Station and I waited patiently until a young woman asked if I were being helped. I confirmed my reservation and she indicated that I should wait while she checked availability.
After a protracted communication problem with the staff over seating, I chose to sit on the caramel-colored banquette side.
The room was walled on two sides with a colossal wine rack decorated with red, heart-shaped balloons for Valentine’s Day. The back wall sported a giant terra cotta crab and matching lobster flanking the window into the kitchen. My server, Nathalie, soon arrived, presented me with the two cards (one for drinks and one for food), and took my water preference. When she returned with the water, she asked if I wanted a drink. Having already determined that the restaurant has only a beer and wine license, I asked for a glass of the Martin Codax Albarino from Spain. She was back in a minute to tell me they were out of Albarino, but that the Gavi was almost the same. Not wanting to discuss the fact that no wine is “almost the same” as any other, I conceded.
The Gavi from San Matteo, Italy, is a nice, crisp white wine with a light golden color. Made from the Cortese grape in Piedmont Region, it’s a good pre-meal drink.
As I searched the menu for spicy and Cajun, I was sadly disappointed at not being able to order any of my favorite dishes, as everything had Andouille sausages in them. Nathalie returned well before I was ready and I mentioned that it would take a little longer because I can’t have the sausages. She made no suggestions and left.
At long last, I came up with a three-course meal and cited my choices to Nathalie, explaining that I had a good appetite but was a slow eater. Aside from jotting down my choices, she paid no attention to what I said and made no question as to which dish should come first. I caught the wine list before she could take it away.
I knew the first two courses would arrive simultaneously, and they did. The two cajun lobster balls on a long, narrow dish were served in a tomato sauce, with the spicy Manhattan clam chowder in a ceramic crock. Nathalie placed the chowder before me and the lobster balls farther away. I asked her which of the two dishes would get cold faster and she pointed to the chowder. Wrong! When I tasted the lobster balls, I easily determined that they were already losing heat while the chowder was still hot. Paul Prudhomme would not be proud of either of these two dishes. There was nothing “cajun” in the lobster balls and nothing spicy in the chowder. The only flavor in the lobster balls came directly from the lobster, with nothing from the breading, and very little from the tomato sauce. Well, at least I won’t get heartburn.
The clams in the chowder were on the rubbery side and the main ingredient, potatoes, were almost underdone. Manhattan would disown this chowder. When Nathalie came back, I ordered the Malbec. Thinking I would get the 2013 Kaiken Malbec listed on the menu, I was surprised to see the 2015 “Coleccion” from Bodega Norton. Both are from Mendoza, Argentina, and both are good, but as I said before, no wine is almost the same as another.
The only non-cajun dish was the main course and I had high hopes for it. Two steamed Alaskan king crab legs straddled a long ovoid metal platter with boiled potatoes and corn on the cob and a ramekin of drawn butter between them. Nathalie supplied me with the requisite seafood fork, a shell cracker and something I never saw before, crab scissors. For those not in the know, crab scissors have one long, thin blade with a forked tip for sliding into a crab leg and a short blade for cutting the shell.
The crab legs were delightful, the corn was sweet (though I prefer not to have it on the cob) and the potatoes ordinary (they were just there; I ordered a second ramekin of drawn butter to help with them). The big surprise was that I was still hungry after three courses.
Nathalie was soon at my side touting dessert. I told her I was still hungry and could finish a bowl of crawfish (dumb idea, not on the menu) but it was like talking to a computer. No suggestions, only a short dessert list. I like bread pudding but was suspicious about having it here. I asked if the beignets were light and crispy and Nathalie said yes.
I ordered the bread pudding, as did the woman at the table next to me. It looked good. I asked how it was. She liked it. I asked her where she had her favorite bread pudding. “Washington Heights!” I told her briefly about Brennan’s restaurant in New Orleans and how bread pudding should be and figured my dessert was doomed to failure. I saw the young lady at the table on my other side had ordered the beignets. They did not even resemble the ones I had in New Orleans, but instead looked like they came out of a box and were heaped with powdered sugar.
My bread pudding arrived. It was attractively served in an oblong crock and was steaming hot and sweet. The bread was cut in cubes like croutons and the main flavor was vanilla (no liquor license, remember?). No espresso machine either, regular coffee. Not bad, just not transporting. Nathalie told me that the restaurant has been open a little over two years. If I return, it will not be on a Friday in Lent. Hopefully, their jambalaya is more authentic.
The Finest Hours
By Steve Herte
The Finest Hours(Disney, 2016) – Director: Craig Gillespie. Writers: Scott Silver, Paul Tamasy & Eric Johnson (s/p). Casey Sherman & Michael J. Touglas (book). Stars: Chris Pine, Casey Affleck, Ben Foster, Eric Baba, Holliday Grainger, John Ortiz, Kyle Gallner, John Magaro, Graham McTavish, Michael Raymond James, Beau Knapp, Josh Stewart, Abraham Benrubi, Keiynan Lonsdale, & Rachel Brosnahan. Color, Rated PG-13, 117 minutes.
The Finest Hours, like Storm of the Century (2000), is based on a book (The Finest Hours: The True Story of the U.S. Coast Guard's Most Daring Sea Rescue by Michael J. Tougias and Casey Sherman.) It’s a far better movie, though, than Storm of the Century, a riveting, exciting film that celebrates the dedication and determination of those who serve to keep our shores safe.
The movie begins calmly in Wellfleet, Massachusetts, in 1951, where we meet Bernie Webber (Pine), a Coast Guardsman at Chatham Station who drives with his best friend to a small coffee shop to meet two girls. One of them is Miriam Pentinen (Grainger) and it’s quite obviously love at first sight. Though Bernie is a bit standoffish and shy, eventually Miriam takes command and asks him to marry her at a dance as the film jumps ahead to February 1952. He says “No.” She leaves. He follows. They talk it out and decide to marry in April.
Later that night, a nor’easter is wreaking havoc off the coast of Cape Cod. Chatham Station is partially disabled by a faulty radar system and is desperately awaiting a repairman. Bernie’s commander, Daniel Cluff (Bana), is not a native of New England (in fact, he’s from the South) and is unaware of the stormy conditions in the North Atlantic in winter. Still, when he gets notice of an oil tanker breaking up in the storm, he sends a crew out in their larger boat to rescue survivors. He doesn’t choose Bernie for this mission because, we learn later, he had a mishap on a previous mission.
Meanwhile, out at sea, a second oil tanker, the Pendleton, is traveling too fast for the high seas around it and the captain only begrudgingly heeds the “slow-down” messages from his Chief Engineer Ray Sybert (Affleck), who is already worried about a weak spot in the hull. Down in the galley of the pitching ship, the cook, George “Tiny” Myers (Benrubi), is trying to keep his assistant’s spirits up by singing “Sit Down, You’re Rocking the Boat” from Guys and Dolls. However, a view outside shows the bow of the tanker spearing way out of the crest of gargantuan wave and the scene cuts to the engine room where we hear a loud thud and a groan of metal. The weak spot in the hull becomes an 18-foot gash and water starts pouring in. Ray sends a crewman to alert the captain because he’s not answering the radio. The crewman, running along the catwalk heading toward the bow, stops suddenly when he realizes there’s no more catwalk. In fact, there’s no more bow. The tanker has split neatly in two and he’s just in time to see the entire front end sink in the wave trough below.
Meanwhile, the Pendleton has been spotted and reported to the Coast Guard station. Commander Cluff orders Bernie to round up a crew and take CG 36500 (the smaller of their two boats) on a possible suicide mission to retrieve the survivors. Bernie takes Richard Livesey (Foster), Andrew Fitzgerald (Gallner), and Ervin Maske (Magaro). As he leaves, he ignores the pay phone ringing in the hall, knowing it is Miriam calling. Miriam, distraught, heads to the Coast Guard station and confronts Cluff repeatedly, asking him to call Bernie’s boat back.
On what’s left of the Pendleton, one man is rallying the crew to let down the lifeboats and abandon ship. It is here that Sybert becomes a leader. After cutting one of the empty lifeboats free, he proves what would have happened if it were filled with men, as it smashes to pieces against the hull. He coordinates the men in constructing a manual rudder by which they can steer the remaining half to a shoal and run it aground, giving rescuers more time to find them.
It was said about The Finest Hours that it keeps you on the edge of your seat, and though I was sitting in a lounge chair, it accomplished this. Bernie and his crew face a failing engine, ridiculously high waves at “the bar” (a dangerous shoal they must cross before entering the open sea), and a lost ship’s compass that went missing during one of the many swampings their vessel endured. Still, using his innate knowledge of the shores and the sea, he guides the tiny craft to the wreck, just as the Pendleton loses power from water entering the exhaust pipes of its engines.
Thirty-two survivors crowd onto Bernie’s boat – 10 more than its capacity – and head for shore, when Chatham loses power due to the storm. Miriam, the strongest female lead I’ve seen since Meryl Streep did Margaret Thatcher, doesn’t give up. She leads a string of cars to the harbor. They follow her example and point their headlights out to sea. Exhausted, Bernie (and the audience, for that matter) brings the boat to dock safely amid cheers from the townspeople.
Given the running time of an hour and 57 minutes, the movie never lagged. Several times I wondered, “How in the world did they film that?” Later on, I checked out the Visual Effects crew listing and it was incredibly long. I have to admit I’m impressed. I found nothing wrong with the portrayals, the acting, the dialogue, or the cinematography. All were superb and I heard myself saying, “Wow!” That’s what I look for in a movie. And Disney Productions did all this without vulgarity or gore. Amazing!
East Sixth Street in Manhattan is fondly known as “Curry Row” or “Little India” for its profusion of mutually surviving Indian restaurants. In its heyday, I counted about 30 in the two block space between 2nd Avenue and Avenue A. I’ve dined at half of those.
Today, the number of restaurants has declined remarkably. Some moved uptown or just around the corner, some just went out of business, and some changed cuisines. I was sorry to see the flash and excitement leave the neighborhood. But Malai Marke (Hindi for extra cream) has been a survivor and, as near as I can estimate has been open at least three years. They feature a two-page, three-column menu that not only includes the most familiar Indian dishes, but also some original recipes and something intriguing labeled “Calcutta-Chinese” cuisine.
The large entrance on 6th Street has two doors. One is marked “use other door” and is overhung by a sleek black semi-awning with the restaurant name in big red letters. Obeying the sign, I used the other door and found the Captain’s Station right away. Generally, Indian restaurants do not have a bar, and this one is no exception. Tables for four lined the left wall and tables for two were on the right. The left wall was open brick decorated with traditional brass serving pots and lids, and the right wall featured a mural depiction of the spices one might see in a typical Indian spice market.
A young man noted my reservation and led me to a table half-way down the main hall. My server, Kalidas, poured my tap water into a mason jar and asked if I wanted a drink. From the beer and wine list, I chose Flying Horse Indian Lager and asked him to leave the list for future reference.
I always forget that Indian beers sometimes come in large bottles; this one contained a pint. It was a good, filling lager and I made it last while I considered my choices on the menu, telling Kalidas that I needed time with all the selections.
As for the Calcutta-Chinese dishes, I didn’t choose any, but I’m sure I’ll be back to try the corn soup with garlic and scallions, or the lollipop chicken – spicy, pulled back chicken wings, vegetable hakka noodles, or the hot garlic shrimp.
Another server brought a basket of papadum (flaky crisp chips) with mint, tamarind and onion chutneys for dipping and, as the beer wound down, I was ready, and Kalidas came to take my order. I listed my choices and, when he asked whether one dish should arrive first or another, I suggested that whatever comes out of the kitchen first should be served first. He agreed.
The mulligatawny soup arrived shortly thereafter. Each time I have this soup it’s different, depending on the chef. In this recipe the yellow lentils were mixed with coarsely ground chickpeas, lemon, fresh coriander and curry leaves. I loved its hearty thickness and mild spice. The color was a warm pinkish yellow, almost orange, perfect for a cold night.
Next came the appetizer, Kurkuri Bhindi: shredded okra tossed with onions, lime and chaat masala (savory spice coating) and deep-fried. The flavors of this dish ranged from mildly spicy to salty, to savory, and this is without the bright green mint chutney served alongside.
My beer now finished, I asked Kalidas which of the very reasonably priced red wines would go best with my main course. He raved about and enthusiastically recommended the 2013 Duckhorn “Decoy” Cabernet Sauvignon – described on the menu as being big and rich with expansive black currants and spice. I ordered it and found the “spice” in the wine worked wonderfully with the meal.
For my main course, I chose the allepy red curry: tilapia cooked with kokum (a plant indigenous to the Western Ghats of India whose fruit – called a squash – yields a bright red color), tomatoes and whole garlic. It was a beautiful shade of red with big, tender pieces of fish, onions, curry leaves and one long dried red chili pepper. A good-sized bowl of basmati rice accompanied it (one must order the rice as it’s not automatic here), along with a bowl of cool cucumber yoghurt dip (raita).
The onion nan flatbread arrived at the same time and I prepared my dish, spooning rice first, then some of the fish, a slice of the bread and a couple of spoons of raita. The flavor was like nothing I’ve had before, only mildly spicy, rich, tomato-y, and with the wonderful earthy flavor of the rice. Interestingly I learned later that the Michelin guide recommended the seafood dishes from the Indian southwest coast.
Even though there was much to choose from on the menu, there were only three desserts. I ordered the gulab jamun, (my usual) – malted milk balls in honey/rose water syrup and a masala (spiced) tea.
Malai Marke was buzzing from the moment I entered until after I left, and I’m not surprised. I felt welcome by the efficient staff, the food is great as well as interesting, and the ambiance is charming. Friendly service encourages friendly customers. A girl saw me taking a picture of the mural on my wall and offered to take a picture of me with it as a backdrop. How friendly is that?
The “Others” Are Coming, Unleash the Hounds!
By Steve Herte
I’ve heard that weather forecasting is not an exact science, but this is ridiculous. I checked the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA) for the weather. I was happy that the snow accumulations would be four to eight inches. Hmph! I shoveled 23 inches.
The 5thWave(Columbia, 2016) – Director: J Blakeson. Writers: Susannah Grant, Akiva Goldman, & Jeff Pinkner (s/p). Rick Yancey (novel). Stars: Chloe Grace Moretz, Matthew Zuk, Gabriela Lopez, Bailey Anne Borders, Nick Robinson, Ron Livingston, Maggie Siff, Zackary Arthur, Liev Schreiber, Maria Bello, Dave Moldonado, Paul Ryden, E. Roger Mitchell, Charmin Lee, Parker Wierling, Alex Roe, Madison Staines, Nick Robinson, Maika Monroe, & Tony Revolori. Color, Rated PG-13, 112 minutes.
The words “low budget,” “too long,” “obvious models,” “stock dialogue,” and “disappointment” do not begin to describe this film. Based on a novel by Rick Yancey, this sad attempt at an alien invasion/world destruction flick can be seen in its entirety in the trailers.
And yet, the theater was half full on opening night to see Cassie Sullivan (Moretz) transform from a party-loving cheerleader into a Barbie version of Rambo. The film opens with a voice-over from a dirt-smudged Cassie as she cautiously crosses a litter-covered street toting a rifle. She’s heading to the Quickie-Mart of a gas station to get supplies. Inside, she grabs whatever is there she needs, and hears a man’s cry for help coming from the restroom. She opens the door carefully to reveal him (Zuk) sitting on the floor with his left hand on his chest and he’s obviously bleeding. She demands to see what he has in his left hand and as he slowly moves it, we see a shining glint of something and she shoots him. It’s a crucifix.
The scene reverts to the past and the events that led up to this moment. Cassie lives in Ohio with her dad, Oliver (Livingston), mom, Lisa (Siff), and little brother, Sam (Arthur). Everything’s normal with Cassie and her best friends Lizbeth (Lopez) and Julia (Bailey Anne Borders) at high school, texting during math class.
Meanwhile, on the news, a large metal object is detected in the sky and it’s slowly circling the world until it stops over Cassie’s street. Someone borrowed the spaceship from Independence Day and hung it like a chandelier over her town. Suddenly, the lights go out in the school and all the cell phones darken and are useless. Cassie and her friends run to the windows to see cars crashing into each other and an airliner dropping from the sky and bursting into flames on impact nearby. “That was the First Wave,” the narration goes.
While getting drinking water from a stream in the forest the next day, an enormous earthquake shakes the scene and Cassie and Sam are running for their lives, dodging falling trees left and right. When the ground stops shaking, a different roar comes from beyond the trees and Cassie and Sam are forced to climb a stout oak to avoid the tidal wave from Lake Erie. “We just had to deal with the lake. I can’t image what people had to deal with on the ocean” that narration continues. We see ridiculously large tidal waves wipe out a cheesy model of Miami, the Tower Bridge in London and a glass-fronted hotel in Thailand. The Empire State Building in New York still stands and so do many high-rise towers, but all the streets are flooded. “That was the second wave.”
Then she goes on to quote the statistics on how many birds there are in the world and how many per person. “We came to calling the invaders, ‘The Others.’” (How original! There was a movie by the same name in 2001, a TV series, and a term used in The Game of Thrones.) “They took the avian flu and genetically mutated it so that it was unstoppable. Some of us were immune to the virus.” (Not Cassie’s girlfriends or, eventually, her mother.) “That was the third wave.”
Oliver gathers up Cassie and Sam and takes them to a refugee camp. But not for long. A huge rumble is heard heading toward the camp. Army vehicles galore! (I thought the invaders turned off all the power, but no one questions this.) The Army takes over under the command of Colonel Vosch (Schrieber) and separates the children from the adults, shepherding the children onto school buses (how appropriate, they’re going to learn something) and corralling the adults into a hall “for a briefing.”
Sam forgets his teddy bear and Cassie goes to retrieve it. Looking in on the briefing, she sees one man rebel against being separated from his child. He pulls out a gun and there is a mass murder (including Oliver). Cassie has missed the bus, Sam is panic-stricken, and, totally traumatized, Cassie runs into the forest, toting the rifle we see her with in the beginning. “That was the fourth wave.”
The movie could conceivably have ended here, but it goes on for 52 minutes more. The children are recruited into a fighting force where they’re taught to shoot and fight. They get a “tracking device” injected into the back of their necks (Can you say Invasion of the Body Snatchers?) from Sergeant Reznik (Bello) and are told that they are the last defense against “the others.” They don’t even question where the U.S. Army got the technology to create a device that allows you to “see” the alien creature’s true form inside a human head.
Meanwhile, Cassie gets shot in the thigh while crossing a highway littered with cars and wakes up in a strange bed. It’s here she meets Evan Walker (Roe) and the movie jumps its second shark. Evan doesn’t tell her right away, but he’s a half-breed alien/human from the first invasion decades ago. But Evan rejects his alien heritage for his love for Cassie and agrees to help her save her brother.
At boot camp, the troops are ready for a foray into an “alien-infested” town. Hometown Ohio football captain Ben Parish, aka Zombie (Robinson), leads his squad (including, but not with, Sam, whom they dub “Nugget”). A Goth girl, Ringer (Monroe), has shown them the proper techniques of firing weapons, and they all receive helmets with a special “visor” that indicates “the others” (who glow green, of course). Ben is not your typical football jock, for he figures out that if the implant from the back of your neck is removed, you glow green too. The Army is really “the others,” and they are the “fifth wave.”
The only plus this movie has is its obvious allusion to recruitment of children by ISIS. Otherwise, I wish the audience who saw The Forest with me could have seen this one. They would have taken back their comment of the “stupidest movie ever” and rethought their opinion. It makes Norm of the North look like Academy Award material. The Fifth Wave had me groaning and rolling my eyes in amazement at how gullible the makers thought their audiences would be. It won’t even achieve the honor of being a classic B-movie. More than likely, it will be forgotten. That is until the Sixth Wave.
Usually the word “pub” would not attract me as being a restaurant, but the photos posted on their website and the interesting menu items sealed the deal. The fact that it was also five blocks from the theater helped.
The bright streetlights of Eighth Avenue were dim compared to the row of hot incandescent bulbs outside this corner property. My camera almost couldn’t handle the glare. Above the glassed-in front on two sides was the name in classic white letters on a charcoal gray background. Inside, the horseshoe-shaped, marble bar stands on a traditionally English tiled floor and all the woodwork and paneling is mahogany. Two very attractive San Dimus chandeliers add to the old-fashioned, homey atmosphere and hang from 20-foot ceilings. The curtains in the windows and the placemats on the bare wood tables match in the same black and white houndstooth pattern.
The young lady at the Captain’s Station was doing double duty when I arrived and was attending to a take-out order. I waited until she noticed me and announced my reservation. It looked like every table was taken and I wondered where I would sit (hopefully not at the bar). She took a rather long time at the computer but eventually found me and led me to the perfect table (a little elevated) by the Eighth Avenue window.
My first server, Erin, (I had two) arrived with a glass of water and the menu and asked if I wanted a cocktail. Having looked at the specialty drinks and deeming them silly, I ordered my favorite martini and Erin went to fetch it.
The menu had the usual pub categories: Starters, Soups, Salads (there were an amazing eight of them, including a “Foghorn Leghorn” salad), Sides, Entrees, a Prix Fixe Lunch, Burgers and Sandwiches. When Erin brought my martini I was a little surprised that it was served in a “v” shaped tumbler rather than a proper, stemmed glass, but it was well mixed.
Erin helped me construct a three-course meal by ruling out two of the three appetizers (starters) that I wavered among. The stuffed artichoke hearts just missed being the first dish when she said that it was “a bit lighter” than the other two. I chose the English jackets – potato wedges smothered in Texas chili and sharp cheddar – because of the intriguing title. In actuality, they were potato skins I’m familiar with. But the chili was a good one and the cheddar was real, not American cheese.
The second course arrived with the first, even though I told Erin I had lots of time. Small matter. It was easy to see that the seafood bisque – smooth and creamy with shrimp, salmon and Maryland crab – would taste the worst cold and I worked at finishing it first. It was delightful (even though my least favorite fish, salmon, was a part of it) and was thicker than I expected bisque to be. But I liked the ceramic crock it was served in. The potato skins were accompanied by a small cup of sour cream which, when diligently applied, would not decrease their temperature. Pacing myself, I finished both dishes.
The next to arrive was the main course and the side dish. The shepherd’s pie – (made correctly) with seasoned ground lamb and sirloin (a surprise) in au jus and topped with a layer of whipped mashed potatoes – was great. The onion rings were enormous, deep-fried, and crisp but not greasy, just as they should be. I ordered a glass of their house Shiraz to go with this. It was a decent red with a medium body, good with the lamb.
It was then I noticed that my server had changed. The outfit was different, the skirt was shorter, the hair color had gone from red to black, even the accent changed. Lauren acknowledged the switch and asked if I needed anything else. “Not just now.” I was rapidly becoming full and wondered what happened to my appetite. But, choosing caution over not being able to have dessert, I had her bag up the delicious shepherd’s pie and onion rings to go.
Strangely enough, none of the desserts appealed to me. I had kept the wine and drinks menu on my table for future reference and it came in handy at dessert. I ordered the espresso martini – espresso-flavored vodka and Kahlua. I have to find out where they got espresso-flavored vodka. It was excellent.
When I was choosing my restaurant the words “gastro-pub” were used in reference to Houndstooth Pub, but “comfort food” more aptly describes what they serve there. The first term might apply to the stuffed artichoke hearts but not to most of the menu. It’s pub food to be sure, but served in a nicer way and with authentic ingredients, not American substitutes. I enjoyed my dinner and the people. I even complimented a woman on her fur coat as she was leaving. I’m still thinking of returning. If for no other reason than a salad named after my favorite Warner Brothers cartoon character: Foghorn Leghorn.
Wild Game Festival in the Forest
By Steve Herte
Fitting in plans for my Dinner and a Movie was actually challenging. The restaurant doesn’t accept reservations except for large parties and I wanted to ensure I had a table. That meant finding a movie under two hours long nearby. The restaurant is in Brooklyn Heights. Whoops! The nearest theater, the Heights Theater is closed. I ended up at the Court Street megaplex, which I dread because most of the others there talk to and shout at the movie.
I chose a horror flick mainly because I thought everyone would be at the new Leonardo Di Caprio Western. Bad guess. This was opening night and the theater was almost full. As the movie progressed, the girl on my right was gradually creeping into my arms in fright. Normally this would be OK, but I was actually interested in seeing where the movie was going. Yes, people talked to the screen, but the movie deserved it. The whole experience was comparable to a night with Mystery Science Theater 3000. Some comments were very funny.
I’ll still be cautious when going there. Enjoy.
The Forest(Gramercy Pictures, 2016) – Director: Jason Zada. Writers: Nick Antosca, Sarah Cornwell, & Ben Keetal. Stars: Natalie Dormer, Eoin Macken, Stephanie Vogt, Osamu Tanpopo, Yasuo Tobishima, Ibuki Kaneda, Akiko Iwase, Kikuo Ichikawa, Noriko Sakuura, James Owen, Jozef Aoki, Yuho Yamashita, Taylor Kinney, Gen Sato, Yukiyoshi Ozawa, Terry Diab, & Nadja Mazalica. Color, Rated PG-13, 95 minutes.
“Let’s hide in the basement! No, let’s hide in the attic! Why don’t we just drive away in the running car! Are you crazy? Let’s hide behind the chainsaws! – Face it. When you’re the star of a horror movie, you make bad choices.” No truer words were ever written into a commercial. Remember Nightmare on Elm Street, Halloween, and Friday the 13th? All the characters that ended up dead in those movies made incredibly bad decisions. Worst one of all was venturing alone into a potentially dangerous place.
Sara Price (Dormer) is the practical sister who is always bailing out her twin, Jess (also Dormer) when she gets into trouble. But now, Jess has gone to Japan and Sara has nightmares of her running through a forest screaming for help. She and Jess both admit to “feeling” or “sensing” what the other is experiencing and Sara is so troubled by what she’s perceiving, she decides to travel to Tokyo to find her sister. Even her fiancé Peter (Owen) cannot dissuade her from going.
Sara learns that Jess was seen entering Aokigahara Forest at the foot of Mount Fuji, a place known for the many suicides committed there and where the sick and disabled were left to die in olden times. Everyone she speaks to about it is horrified at the thought of her going there and a young schoolgirl named Mei (Kaneda) shrinks from her because she thinks she’s a ghost. Mei has met her sister previously.
Nevertheless, Sara takes the train to the gloomy, out of the way station and has to walk to her hotel. Along the way she stops at a Visitor Center/Morgue and asks the woman who answers the door if she has seen her sister. “Oh yes!” says Mayumi (Sakura). “We have her!” Shocked, Sara follows her (reluctantly) into the basement where three sheet-covered bodies lie on metal tables. Mayumi indicates the one that might be Jess, but is called away by business. Whoops! One of the bodies looks like it’s breathing. Sara edges toward it slowly until she can pull back the sheet covering it. It’s horrifically decayed, the audience screams, but it’s not Jess.
Again, she’s warned not to enter Aokigahara and, if she does, should not stray from the path. She pooh-poohs it as superstition and heads for her hotel, a two-story affair with a bar downstairs, faulty fluorescent lighting and traditional paper walls. After a scare in the hallway, Sara retreats to the bar where she meets Aidan (Kinney), a reporter from Australia who is obviously interested in her. He echoes all the warnings she’s received so far but eventually admits that he accompanies a guide named Michi (Ozawa) on his suicide watch forays into the forest. If they find a body, they note the location and inform the authorities.
On their first trip into Aokigahara, they find a yellow tent belonging to Jess. Sara is overjoyed, because she was told that if someone sets up a tent, they are not serious about suicide (we learn later that Jess has attempted suicide twice before – both with pills, thinking it romantic). She insists on staying at the tent to wait for her sister to return. Michi is horrified. Aidan agrees to stay with her. Michi thinks he’s crazy. And the fun begins. Aokigahara is brooding by day and sinister by night. Something tries to grab Sara through the tent surface and causes her to venture out into the night. She sees the schoolgirl Mei again and chases her through the forest. Remember, this is the practical sister. Fortunately, Aidan finds her and brings her back to the tent.
In the morning, they decide to return to the hotel and use the river as their guide. Sara sees a body floating down the river. Aidan warns her not to get too close to the edge and leads her back the way they came. When she protests, he explains that they are following the river. She looks again at the river and it has changed course.
Although warned not to believe anything bad she sees in the forest, Sara believes she can hear Jess’ voice and is tricked into stabbing and killing Aidan in a dingy shack they find in the forest. Throughout the film, we see misshapen and monstrous beings at a distance that zoom up close in an instant. Sara demonstrates her loss of practicality when she falls into an underground cave, sees Mei again, and follows her into the darkness. Seriously, would you do that? I wouldn’t.
Overall, The Forest is an amalgam of a Guillermo Del Toro film and Blair Witch Trials complete with a hand-held camera filming Sara running through the trees and bouncing all over the place. Instead of creepy little wooden stick creations hanging like kindergarten dream catchers everywhere, there are colorful tapes and ropes strung up in the forest, supposedly put there by people who wanted to find their way out and not get lost.
Natalie Dormer plays her part so well you believe she’s gone totally out of her mind with concern for her sister, who, though played by her, just barely looks like her twin. Taylor Kinney is good, but he’s just along for the ride. Ibuki Kaneda however, is scary. She can look innocent and frightened in one moment, vulpine and predatory the next: The best performance in the movie.
Surprisingly, for a horror/thriller there is a minimum of blood, but the gross-out effect is used profusely. Parents, be advised. There were children in the audience, but it was the adults who were screaming. It was the second most crowded theater I’ve been to since Star Wars last month. If sending chills up your spine was the goal of this film, it accomplished that several times. But the bad decision-making of the main character got to be so tiresome and predictable that the audience applauded when hands reached up from the ground and pulled her under.
And what of Jess? Spoiler alert: She survives the ordeal and is returned to her husband, Rob (Macken). To quote the woman sitting next to me: “This is the stupidest film of all time!”
Rating: 3 out of 5 Martini glasses.
44 Henry St. (between Cranberry and Middagh), Brooklyn, NY
Aside from the New York Aquarium (not scheduled to be fully recovered from Super-storm Sandy until 2017), Henry’s End is the main reason for my repeat visits to Brooklyn. Starting the new dining year there has become a tradition. Admittedly, it doesn’t look like that much on the outside – a simple brick and block-glass façade facing the street with the name in hot pink neon in the window. In fact, it has all the appearance of a small bar. Inside, it’s more gentrified. Once you make it past the velvet curtain over the second door (to keep the warm in and the cold out), all is welcoming. Owner/Chef Marc Lahm will greet you himself, as he did when I appeared at the door.
Some say it’s cramped – there’s barely room for the staff to fit between the two rows of tables going length-wise to the window in back (my favorite table). But I would say it’s just right. The regular customers are sophisticated, but lively, both young and mature, Brooklynites and out-of-towners. The air is always full of enticing aromas from the open kitchen and interesting conversations. I’ve learned to ignore the décor (or lack of it) and have stopped bugging Marc about the tri-color ceiling tiles. The atmosphere has a cozy, lived-in look that instantly calms you as if you’ve just walked into your own front door after a long and tedious trip.
I was full of anticipation this year and had my tastes set for a particular dish. I asked Marc if there was room for one more hungry person and he indicated that my favorite table was waiting. We wended our way back and I got settled, thanking Helene for introducing me to this place. Soon my server, Megan, arrived and asked if I wanted a drink. Usually, I don’t have to describe my martini, because Marc automatically asks and makes the perfect one. But Megan is new and I gave her my preference, assuring her that Marc knows how.
The menu has changed a little since the last time I visited. The usual dishes were in their usual places but the font is simpler, larger and more readable. There are Small Plates, Pastas, Fish Dishes, Chicken Dishes, Duckling Dishes (these are all spectacular for a first-time visit), Veal dishes, Lamb & Beef Dishes, a Prix Fixe menu for tables of more than one, and my favorite, the Wild Game Festival. This year is their 31st Annual Game Festival.
You can imagine my delight when I saw listed the dish I came for; one I had not seen for years. I made my decisions and told Megan what I had chosen. I mentioned my ample time and slow eating habits and she understood (and ensured that no dish arrived with the next). Another server brought the breadbasket containing crusty sourdough as well as a date-nut bread and sesame seeded bread sticks, along with a ramekin of fresh butter.
The first course was a hearty New Orleans turtle soup. Megan served it – as usual, with a bottle of sherry (actually it was an Amontillado, Carlos VII from Pedro Ximenez winery, Spain) – for enhancing the flavor. The mildly spicy soup with finely chopped turtle meat and vegetables was a rich reddish-brown and accepted the sherry I poured into it. I’ve never met a person who’s tasted this soup and wasn’t amazed.
Next was a relatively new dish, the ostrich potstickers – light, tasty dumplings filled with ground ostrich meat, garnished with Asian vegetables and served with a soy dipping sauce. (I discovered ostrich meat in Baltimore and have loved it ever since.) Some call it “the other red meat,” fantastic in this reinvention of Chinese dumplings.
The main course was one I would have asked about if it had not been on the menu: Danish venison stew. My photo does not do this dish justice. The tender cubes of venison in their dark, almost black, sweet and savory sauce were a delight to eat one by one, to make the dish last longer. The garnish in this case is dill-mashed potatoes; one of very few ways I like mashed potatoes. As with the turtle soup, I used the bread to make sure every speck of this dish was finished. Oh, and there was a side dish, spinach with garlic, simply done and simply marvelous.
Henry’s End is a great place to drink wines by the glass. Marc is a master of fine wines and there’s always one you’ll love. I tried the Chateau Gelineau Bordeaux with the turtle soup and switched to the Turley “Juvenile” Zinfandel for the venison stew. Both were excellent reds.
My appetite (believe it or not) was still there for dessert. Again, it’s been a long time since I had Henry’s End’s mudpie, a blend of coffee and chocolate ice cream laced with Kahlua and espresso on an Oreo cookie crust and topped with hot fudge espresso sauce. If it sounds decadent, it is! I don’t have ice cream that often for dessert but this one I enjoyed every bite. Gilding the lily a bit with a cup of espresso was not beyond my hedonistic tendency.
On the way out, I thanked Marc for everything and remarked how reliably great all the food is. We shared sentiments over the closing of City Hall restaurant in Manhattan and I told him of the photo we took with Chef Meer. He also regarded it as the end of an era. I thanked him again and headed for home happy and satisfied.
Joy and Sweet Sorrow
By Steve Herte
New Year's Day falling on a Friday this year had me rapidly thinking of what to do with my Dinner and a Movie night. Moving it to Thursday put it on New Year's Eve! Yikes! That's the one day of the year – aside from Mother's Day – that restaurants are unavailable unless you reserve early. Add that to my yearly tradition of dining at City Hall every year's end. I decided to see what movies were available downtown and, fortunately, there were three I could choose from. They were also all about the same time length and started at approximately the same time.
Using my database of restaurants, I made reservations for two people because Betty has never been to City Hall and I thought she might enjoy it. After that, it just took a few consultations with friends to decide on a movie. For those who may be interested, the other two were Point Break and Sisters. Enjoy!
Joy (20th Century Fox, 2015) – Director: David O. Russell. Writers: David O. Russell (story & s/p) and Annie Mumolo (story). Stars: Jennifer Lawrence, Robert De Niro, Bradley Cooper, Edgar Ramirez, Diane Ladd, Virginia Madsen, Isabella Rossellini, Dascha Polanco, Elisabeth Rohm, Susan Lucci, Laura Wright, Maurice Bernard, Jimmy Jean-Louis, Ken Howard, Ray De La Paz, Alexander Cook, Donna Mills, Melissa Rivers, Isabella Crovetti-Cramp, Aundrea Gadsby, Gia Gadsby, Tomas Elizondo, & Zeke Elizondo.Color, Rated PG-13, 124 minutes.
Knowing a little about the story in this movie and knowing how reliable the actors in the cast are, I chose to see it, wondering where that story would take me. I can only compare the beginning to a baby’s first steps: Pull yourself up on something, let go, fall down, laugh. Repeat, until a few steps are accomplished and you’re safely in Mommy’s arms. Though this might be exciting to the new parents, I nearly drifted off into sleep in the first half hour of Joy.
Then the film began to pick up speed. Lawrence plays Joy Mangano, an inventor and designer since she was a girl (Crovetti-Cramp). Her biggest source of encouragement is her grandmother, Mimi (Ladd), who also narrates the story. Her father Rudy (De Niro) owns and runs a failing auto repair shop with her half-sister Peggy (Rohm). Rudy is divorced from Joy’s mother Terry (Madsen) who now does nothing but stay in bed watching her favorite soap opera.
Joy is also divorced from her husband Tony (Ramirez) who is currently living in her basement practicing his craft as a lounge singer. She has two children, Christie (Gadsby sisters) and Tommy (Elizondo brothers). Her best friend from childhood, Jackie (Polanco), helps out whenever she can. Jackie, like Mimi, believes in Joy and her dreams of a better life. Joy works as a booking clerk for Eastern Airlines and is just about keeping her head above water financially. The stresses caused by a full house get worse when Rudy shows up at her door after being thrown out by his current wife. He moves into the basement where he’s constantly arguing with Tony. And whenever he’s upstairs, he’s arguing with Terry.
Joy visits Rudy at work and finds him on the phone to a dating service. When he learns the woman’s name is Trudy (Rossellini), they agree to meet and a love affair blossoms. Trudy is a wealthy Italian widow with a 55-foot sailboat, and she invites Rudy and his family for a winter sail. The only condition: no red wine! It will stain the genuine teak wood deck. Of course, Tony, who was not invited, brings red wine and charms his way on board. You know what comes next. The boat rocks, people fall, glasses of red wine are spilled and broken on the deck, and Joy winds up cleaning up the mess alone.
If this sounds like a version of Cinderella, it very much is. The stepsister isn’t wicked. She’s an over-achiever who thinks Joy is a loser and embarrasses her whenever she can and doesn’t care who is present when she does so. While mopping up the wine and broken glass (by hand), Joy cuts both her hands. This starts her inventive mind going and she creates the first self-wringing mop with a removable, washable head made from 300 feet of continuous cotton. But how to market this idea?
It isn’t easy. Convincing Trudy to get her started with $20,000, she make a deal with a company in California to manufacture the parts. It involves a “royalty” fee that is paid to a Texas magnate unbeknownst to Joy. When the company raises the interest rates, Joy refuses to pay the unjust fees because it will raise the cost of the product. She needs an advertising medium. Tony, who was never too good at being a husband, becomes her best adviser and talks into meeting QVC executive Neil Walker (Cooper) who runs a small television network where famous people sell new inventions.
Joy is agog when she watches the orders literally flow in when Priscilla (Mills) and Joan Rivers (Rivers) enthusiastically advertise a perfectly ordinary necklace. Neil puts his “best salesman” on the job of promoting Joy’s mop but he fails miserably when he cannot figure out how to work the wringer part. Joy is devastated as she watches him flail and is cut from the scene to another product. Her family, who are also watching, are not a big help.
Joy, however, is undeterred. She storms into Neil’s office and convinces him to let her sell her own mop on his show. Onstage, however, it’s a different world. Joy freezes in the bright lights. If it weren’t for Jackie calling in to the station, it would have been a total disaster. Instead, it’s an overnight success. Now, all she has to deal with are the shadowy dealings in California and Texas. But as Cinderella went from scullery girl to princess, Joy transforms from harried housewife into business mogul.
Joy is a comedy in the Shakespearean sense of the word. All is bad in the beginning and seems to get worse and worse but gloriously converts to happiness in the end. She gains the strength to tell Tony and Rudy to move out and live their own lives. She hires a plumber, Toussaint (Jean-Louis), to fix the constant hair clogs caused by her mother, and Terry falls in love with him. Mimi dies, but she gets to tell of the future success and happiness of her visionary granddaughter.
In the course of the movie there are several flashbacks to the past to accent Joy’s dilemma with her severely dysfunctional family. There are also scenes where the soap opera characters, Danica (Lucci), Clarinda (Wright), and Bartholomew (Cook), appear to become a part of poor Joy’s difficult life.
Though it started slowly, Joy approached the “Wow” factor and was entertaining and enjoyable. Jennifer Lawrence was a rainbow of various emotions and she played them well. Robert De Niro was, well, Robert De Niro. Bradley Cooper was convincing as the accomplished executive businessman who knew what he was getting into but still wanted to be friends when he and Joy became rivals. There is only a few mild vulgarities. Otherwise, Joy is a good, clean, well photographed, based on a true story, film for adults.
Rating: 4 out of 5 Martini glasses.
131 Duane St. (between Church Street and West Broadway), New York
I have made it a personal tradition to finish a year with a return to my favorite restaurant in Manhattan and start the New Year with my all-time favorite in Brooklyn. They’re the only two restaurants I visit repeatedly and regularly. But this year is different.
When I arrived at the arched windowed, colonnaded façade of the 1863 Landmark cast-iron building (once, the Lester Pinkus Shoe Corporation) I sighed. It’s always like coming home at City Hall. The hostess at the Captain’s Station greeted me with a smile as I announced my reservation.
Then she led me to a table halfway between the semi-circular booths and the tables lining the hallway before the kitchen. As I started to sit I heard my name called. My friend Betty was not only there before me, but was sitting a table away sipping the Kir Royale (champagne and cassis) I suggested she order. The wine list was waiting on the table as we discussed how the hostess didn’t know we were both a part of the same reservation.
Soon, our server, Cristian arrived and took my martini order. He presented us with the single-page menu and left to get the drink. I remarked how the menu has shrunk from book-size. When he returned, Cristian explained that the restaurant was running out of many standard items, but he assured us that everything on the card was available. We studied the appetizers, soups, salads, entrees, and sides until we came up with two three-course meals. Betty asked if I wanted to share a side dish. I knew exactly what I wanted to share, but it wasn’t on the card.
At that moment, Chef Henry Meer walked the corridor behind our table and I greeted him. He smiled in his usual way and welcomed us both, asking if we had any questions on the menu. “Yes,” I said, “Where are the Curried Onion Rings?” A quick turn to the kitchen and a moment later, he turned back to us and assured us they were available, but that we had to ask for them. That gained me a thank-you from the couple at the next table, who were also hooked on the fabulous side dish. I thanked the Chef and we ordered our meals with Cristian.
The first choice on the menu was a jumbo shrimp or crab cocktail and Betty chose the shrimp. These were surprisingly large, fresh and on a bed of ice with a slice of lemon, horseradish catsup, and a tartar dipping sauce. I ordered the half-dozen hama hama oysters from Washington State because I prefer West Coast oysters to East Coast. They were not briny, a little sweet and with none of that metallic taste some oysters have. We both enjoyed them.
The next course for Betty was the yellow split pea soup served with a twisted bread stick straddling the bowl. It was hot and delicious and not as heavy as green pea soup. My choice was grilled portobello mushrooms with baby arugula and parmesan cheese in aged balsamic and white truffle oil. I’ve had this dish before at City Hall and it’s always satisfying. The meaty mushrooms taste great with a sprig of arugula in that light vinegary sauce.
Betty was still working through her Kir when I ordered a glass of zinfandel for myself. City Hall is one of very few restaurants in New York that serve red zinfandel by the glass. Chef Meer is excellent at choosing the best vintages and this was no exception. It was full-bodied, deep red and had an authoritative after-taste.
The lady’s choice of main course was Mediterranean branzino with a dijon-hollandaise sauce. She had a choice of having the whole fish or a filet. I’ve never seen a whole branzino but have been impressed by the size of their steak-like filets. She chose the latter. It was served simply with beautiful grill stripes on top and was flaky and tender. The sauce was served in a separate ramekin. On the Chef’s recommendation, I chose the homemade cavatelli with New Zealand green-lipped mussels and shrimp. Along with lasagna, angel hair, tortellini, and pappardelle, cavatelli is among my top favorite pastas and City Hall makes them al dente, and so rich you can taste the cheese in them. The mussels and shrimp were, as all seafood before this dish very fresh and tasty. Betty was impressed with the basket of curried onion rings, and between the two of us, it was finished. Usually, I have to take half of it home – they even taste good re-heated.
One would think with all that food there would be no room for dessert but, hey, it was New Year’s Eve, and we were both ready. To get the best of both worlds we ordered the warm guanaja chocolate soufflé cake with caramel ice cream and chocolate sauce and the City Hall cheesecake “Voted Best Cheesecake in NY” (you know how I react to a boast). Both were excellent. The chocolate cake was rich with dark chocolate and matching sauce but at the same time it was light and fluffy. The cheesecake was like eating a cloud (sorry Junior’s) and was closest to my benchmark cheesecake, the one once made by Longchamps restaurant long ago.
A cappuccino for her (with a heart shape swirled into the cream on top) and a double espresso for me, and our New Year’s celebration was almost done. City Hall opened in November of 1998 and this night would be its last night. I had heard rumors of this shocking turn of events but they proved true. I didn’t want to leave. I ordered one last glass of cognac to toast the Chef with and wish him a good future wherever he goes. Chef Meer is a veteran from the famed Lutèce and La Cote Basque. I’m sure he will succeed in whatever he chooses to do.
Before we left, I asked Chef if he would be in a photograph with us and he enthusiastically agreed. Upon exiting City Hall I realized that this would be the last time I would see the familiar hashtag logo of interwoven C and H, and sighed.
A Road Chip to India
By Steve Herte
Alvin and the Chipmunks – The Road Chip(Fox, 2015) – Director: Walt Becker. Writers: Randi Mayem Singer & Adam Sztykiel (s/p). Ross Bagdasarian & Janice Karman (characters). Stars: Jason Lee, Justin Long (voice), Matthew Gray Gubler (voice), Jesse McCartney (voice), Kimberly Williams-Paisley, Josh Green, Tony Hale, Bella Thorne, Eddie Steeples, Christina Applegate (voice), Kaley Cuoco (voice), Anne Faris (voice), Jose D. Xuconoxtli, Jr., Keith Arthur Bolden, Jennifer Coolidge, & Joshua Mikel. Color, Rated PG, 92 minutes.
Has it really been three movies ago that we started this series? It seems like yesterday, but we’ve had Alvin and the Chipmunks in 2007, The Squeakquel in 2009,Chipwrecked in 2011 and now, the fourth installment, The Road Chip. Yes, I’ve seen them all and each one had its good points and its foibles. I just can’t help looking back to the era of Ross Bagdasarian Sr. (1958 to 1972) when I could understand every word of every song. Probably because Dave Seville and the Chipmunks were all voiced by one person.
Now, the Chipmunks are joined by the Chipettes (the female version) and they’re both getting deeper into hip-hop and rap and the lyrics (if there are any) are almost incomprehensible. Ross Bagdasarian Jr. does the right thing in keeping these lovable troublemakers in the public eye, but I have to wonder. Only the last song in the movie had recognizable words – that, and “The Chipmunk Song (Christmas Don’t Be Late)” in the middle.
Here we see Dave Seville (Lee) booked on a trip from Los Angeles to Miami to produce a record for Ashley Grey (Thorne). He has two tickets only. But when he arrives home he discovers a house full of rowdy people celebrating his birthday, a party arranged by (who else?) Alvin (Long), that got way out of hand. He grounds Alvin, Simon (Gubler, Dr. Reid on Criminal Minds) and Theodore (McCartney) from performing on the road. But he’s promised to take them miniature golfing the next day and uses that opportunity to introduce them to his girlfriend, Samantha (Williams-Paisley).
The boys see a special package Dave left on the table and find the diamond engagement ring inside. They immediately conclude that Dave is going to propose to Samantha. The next day, when they meet her, they’re thrilled. That is until they realize Samantha comes as a package deal with her teenage son, Miles (Green) who takes an instant dislike to them and physically abuses them (he hangs Theodore on a turning windmill by the hood of his sweat shirt).
Dave increases the mutual enmity by taking Samantha to Miami and leaving Miles with the chipmunks. Alvin hatches a plan to go down to Miami and swipe the ring so the proposal can’t happen. Miles is all for it. He purchases an airline ticket and smuggles the chipmunks aboard a plane. Poor Theodore winds up in the baggage hold with the other animals, where he befriends a monkey and sets him free of his cage. Bad idea. The monkey frees all the other animals. Alvin is in Miles’ backpack and is forced to act like a doll while Miles bends and twists him for a customs agent. Simon is hidden inside Miles clothing when the customs agent decides to do a full body search. He makes it halfway down Miles’ jeans when his nerves get the better of him and we see a trickle of fluid dripping from the pants leg. “That’s not mine!” says Miles. When something that looks like a Raisinette also drops out, the customs agent gives up and sends Miles to the plane.
But their troubles are just beginning. Alvin is hungry and finds food in first class. When he’s chased out he meets the last person he’d want to meet, Sky Marshall Agent Suggs (Hale), a man who already hates the chipmunks because the love of his life broke up with him at his apartment while “Christmas Don’t Be Late” was playing. (He was a big fan up until then.) The animals streaming into the cabin from the cargo hold cause the plane to make an emergency landing somewhere in Texas. They rent a car and escape Suggs.
The car only gets them so far and they wind up at a roadside bar where they have to perform (Miles is an accomplished guitar player) to be allowed to stay (the group scheduled to perform didn’t show up) and they’re a big hit. Suggs catches up with them, but loses them again when Alvin hides in a tough guy’s black beard and causes Suggs to start a brawl. Miles and the boys hop a cab out of town, but the money runs out and the cab driver drops them by the side of the road in Louisiana. They raise enough money doing street performances to afford a bus ride to New Orleans, where their singing attracts a Mardi Gras-like crowd and the television crew.
Dave sees them on television and he and Samantha fly to New Orleans to retrieve them. Samantha and Miles fly back to Miami but Dave has to drive Alvin, Simon and Theodore because Suggs has put them all on the “no fly” list. In Miami, the truth comes out. The ring isn’t for Samantha. Dave was holding it for his friend Barry (Steeples) to give to his girlfriend and the chipmunks almost cause that not to happen.
To try and get back into Dave’s good graces Alvin calls on the Chipettes – Brittany (Applegate), Eleanor (Cuoco), and Jeanette (Faris) – who are busy judging on “American Idol” to help them with a new song. Ashley Grey assists further by announcing them onstage and all works out. Miles even gets a date with Ashley.
On the way home, Dave stops at a courthouse and gives the boys a scare – considering what they’ve just been through – and adopts the three. Everyone’s teary-eyed until they arrive home and see the house torn up by the three squirrels Alvin drugged and dressed in their clothes so that Mrs. Price (Coolidge) wouldn’t know they were gone. Traditionally, the movie ends with Dave screaming, “Alvinnnn!”
Aside from the song lyrics, this is a fun (and funny) movie. The children in the audience enjoyed it even though they didn’t get all the jokes. The remarkable part is the animation, which was flawless. The chipmunks all interacted with the live actors as if they were really there and their dance moves were perfectly synced with the music. For those who hate musicals, don’t see this movie. The last song, “Home” is easily the best piece of music in the film, although I enjoyed their cover of The Dixie Cups’ “Iko Iko” while they were raising bus money. I still love the chipmunks, Ross. Just make the words clearer.
Rating: 3½ out of 5 Martini glasses.
Rangoli Exquisite Indian Cuisine
1393A Second Ave. (between 72ndand 73rdStreets), New York
I’m a native New Yorker (hey, I could sing that song at karaoke night) and I’m pretty much up on what’s happening in The City (that’s what we in Queens call Manhattan). But there’s one thing that has not been in the news for a long time, the construction of the Second Avenue Subway. I had actually forgotten about it until I arrived at Rangoli after a leisurely stroll uptown. I was on the east side of Second Avenue because I decided to drop into a CVS drug store to shop and the masked cyclone fencing at the curb prevented me from seeing the restaurant on the other side of the street. When I crossed Second Avenue at 73rd Street the same claustrophobic fencing was on the other side and limited my photo opportunity of the exterior. Oh! That’s right. There’s a big hole in the middle.
Basically, Rangoli is a storefront restaurant with the name in brightly lit orangey-red letters over the front window. They close from 2:00 to 5:00 pm for dinner and I made sure I arrived exactly at five. Inside, there is a bar on the right, and on the left, tables bathed in light from stained glass swags. The cream colored walls are tastefully paneled in walnut and hung with prints from Indian folklore. The two gentlemen running the restaurant greeted me and one led me to a table just past the bar from where I had a good view of everything. A small vase of red carnations and a stained glass votive candle were on the immaculately white tablecloth.
The one gentleman became my server (forgive me, I didn’t get his name). He poured me a glass of tap water and presented me with the food menu and the single-card wine list. I ordered the 2012 Seven Daughters Pinot Noir, California, because I’ve tried their varietals and found them reliable. I was mildly surprised when he brought the wine and it was a screw-top bottle. I told him of previous bottles of Seven Daughters’ wines when they had multi-colored corks. Still, the pinot noir was remarkable and was a nice medium bodied red. Indian food has enough flavor of its own without having to compete with a wine.
The food menu featured several dishes I’ve never tried, surprisingly since this was my 141st Indian restaurant. The categories were: Vegetable Appetizers, Non-Vegetable Appetizers, Green Salads, Soups, Chicken Entrees, Lamb Entrees, Goat, Vegetable Entrees, Seafood Entrees, Tandoori Entrees, Combo Special, Whole Wheat Breads, White Flour Breads, Rice, Biryani, Side Orders, Desserts and Beverages. I chuckled at the “non-vegetable” category; it just sounded funny.
By now two other tables were occupied and one person was obviously a non-dairy, non-eggs kind of diner. Why do people like that dine out? They ordered sag paneerand I almost laughed, since paneer is a homemade cottage cheese.
My server was most attentive and I told him that I had chosen my appetizer and soup but that three main courses attracted me. He described each one in detail without – surprisingly – favoring the most expensive one. I made my decision and he went to put in the order. I had forgotten to tell him that I was a slow eater and had lots of time, but as it turned out, I didn’t need to.
My first course was the boti kebab, pieces of lamb marinated in a ginger-garlic sauce and cooked in a tandoor. Served with tamarind and mint chutneys, it was cooked well and savory, but a little on the chewy side. However, that was my only negative experience in Rangoli.
The wine was great with every course and I was just finishing the boti kebab when another server brought the mumtazzi shorba, a mildly spiced chicken soup, similar to mulligatawny. Mumtaz was the wife of Shah Jahan and is the one buried in the Taj Mahal (a little cultural history); this is what attracted me to the dish. It wasn’t as thick as mulligatawny and the traditional slice of lemon was not included, but it didn’t need it. I loved it and finished it, telling my server how good it was.
There was a small space of time before the main course arrived and my server wanted to talk. I took the opportunity to do something I’ve never done before. I complimented them on the water. Too often, the water glass has a scent or a taste on it from the detergent used in cleaning. The glass was pristine in its cleanliness and the water as pure as the water at my home (which is triple filtered). He told me the story of the manager, who, being impeccably clean, carefully chose a dishwasher that would completely clean all the tableware. He considered this a high compliment indeed.
By then, my entrée had been brought to my table. The butterfish masala was a whole fish cooked in onions, tomato, green peppers, ginger and garlic. I had never had butterfish before but a number of people I know have raved to me about its flavor and they were right. The tender meat was definitely buttery in flavor; detectible even with the mild Indian spices coating it. It was easy to remove from the bones and very few small bones came off with the flesh. The juicy vegetables accompanying the dish added to the marvelous taste of the fish. Spooned over basmati rice and sided with onion nan, it was a delightful little feast.
At this point I should note the “runners-up” to my main course. I was torn between the butterfish and the goat curry and the kerala crab curry, both of which were described as lovingly prepared. Each one would serve as an excuse to return to Rangoli. When my server had told me about the goat curry, he mentioned (as did the menu) that the meat was on the bone. When I finished my fish I told him, “That’s why I told you I have no trouble with bones,” for all that remained of the fish was a head and tail joined by a ribbed spine.
The casava cake was the most interesting dessert on the menu but I guess it was finished during the lunch period because they were out of it. Oh well, back to “street food” as my friend from Kerala calls it.
The gulab jamun (malted milk balls in a honey-rose water sauce) were just as good as any I’ve had. I asked my server if they served masala chai (spiced tea) and he said no. “How about any tea?” “We have a cardamom tea.” “That’s a spiced tea. I’ll take that.” All it needed was a little evaporated milk and I was happy.
As I was leaving and getting a business card, I learned from my server that Rangoli is a word in Hindi that means a “mixture of colors.” “Like a mandala,” I said. “Yes,” it describes the range of flavors from all over India that the chef uses in his recipes. Rangoli is 14 months old, he said, and I wished him many years of business as I left. Rangoli’s boast about “exquisite Indian cuisine” is not unfounded.
Melville’s Mentor and Kimchi Overload
By Steve Herte
For the first time since I’ve been writing reviews, I went to dinner before the movie. It was a little difficult to time.
The reason for this change was that the movie was only playing later in the evening and it was opening night. (Some opening night – there were three other people in the theater besides myself.) Then, the restaurant had to have an early reservation time to give me time to dine comfortably and to walk to the theater. It worked out. But here's some advice: Never see a movie involving Herman Melville and then ride the New York subway home. I learned that it was his schedule for his horse-drawn coach/bus system in Staten Island that MTA uses to this day. You cannot count on it.
But I digress. I tried reading Moby Dick back in high school. Believe me I did. But I failed – too long, too boring. That's why I was glad this movie came out. Enjoy!
In the Heart of the Sea(WB, 2015) – Director: Ron Howard. Writers: Charles Leavitt (s/p & story), Rick Jaffa, Amanda Silver (story), Nathaniel Philbrick (novel In the Heart of the Sea: The Tragedy of the Whaleship Essex). Stars: Chris Hemsworth, Benjamin Walker, Cillian Murphy, Brendan Gleeson, Ben Whishaw, Michelle Fairley, Tom Holland, Paul Anderson, Frank Dillane, Joseph Mawle, Edward Ashley, Sam Kelley, Osy Ikhile, Gary Beadle, & Jamie Sives. Color, Rated PG-13, 122 minutes.
Director Ron Howard’s first Warner Brothers film is visually stunning, beautifully photographed and technically perfect. The camera angles both above and below the waterline add to the excitement of the conflict between man and beast on the high seas. The special effects group went to great lengths to create a believable reason why a sperm whale could be mistaken to be “white” (callosities such as routinely exist on humpback whales) and the make-up and costume departments made the viewers believe that the actors were sunburned, starved, desperate men who have been stranded at sea for 90 days.
Then, there’s the small problem of casting and acting. Herman Melville (Wishaw), a writer who has not broken into the big time of notoriety that his idol, Nathaniel Hawthorne, already enjoys hopes that by visiting Thomas Nickerson (Holland) he will get enough material for a significant work of fiction. Melville’s a fairly small part in the story and played insignificantly enough to be forgettable. Nickerson, one of the survivors of the wreck of the Essex in 1820 is better acted as he begrudgingly relates the events leading up to and resulting from an enormous, seemingly vengeful, sperm whale destroying the ship and all but one of the lifeboats.
Owen Chase (Hemsworth) is the extremely good-looking seasoned seaman who wishes to be captain of his own whaling ship, but, since he is not wealthy or connected to the Pollard family, he doesn’t achieve this dream until the end. Disappointed, he still accepts the first mate’s assignment on board the Essex. Though he climbs rigging as agilely as a monkey and shouts commands with authority, Hemsworth is no Errol Flynn. He was much more convincing toward the end of the movie.
Captain George Pollard (Walker), who received his command by birthright rather than knowledge of navigation and hunting whales, was portrayed as merely incompetent and not quite as arrogant as a rich man’s son should be. Again, an almost forgettable character.
The youngest crewmember, Tom Nickerson (Gleeson), was perhaps the best characterization in the cast. He saw what was happening on board the Essex, the leadership tug-of-war between the captain and the first mate, the growing obsession with killing the huge whale, and the increasing desperation of the crew, but was helpless to do anything about it.
Aside from Thomas Nickerson’s occasional narration, In the Heart of The Sea would survive intact without dialogue and with only the musical soundtrack (which was excellent). When the first whale was harpooned, I said to myself, “Someone’s going to say, ‘Nantucket sleigh ride.’” Those very words were spoken a second later. It was gratifying that no one used the phrase “Thar’ she blows.” Instead, I heard, “White water off the port bow!” to indicate the presence of whales.
It was the computer-generated whale that gave the best performance. His single cameo as he eyed the men on the Essex, spoke volumes without a single word. The female lead, Mrs. Nickerson (Fairley), gave a good, solid performance. She performed her homely duties while occasionally injecting her concerns for her husband’s sanity and well-being. She knew it would be best for him to get his story out into the open, especially because Captain Pollard and Owen Chase nearly lied to the company owners of the Essex rather than admit defeat by an animal.
What makes this film interesting is the historic angle. It’s the fact that whale oil was an important commodity for fuel and lighting before the discovery of oil from the ground (mentioned at the end of the movie). And considering that a ship sails from Nantucket and continues down the coasts of North and South America, around Cape Horn and up into the Pacific just to get a hold full of whale oil, one realizes how valuable this item was back then. The “year long trip” seems more like an economic commitment than an adventure.
But this trip was indeed an adventure, one the crew of the Essex never could have predicted. Believability aside, salty language absent, it’s a great viewing for the whole family just, as I said from the technical point of view. The capper at the end is when the credits reveal that Moby Dick was published in 1850 and Hawthorne hailed it as the American Epic. It almost makes me want to try to reread it.
I can’t resist a challenge. When a restaurant bills itself improbably as a Japanese/American Pub and includes the boast “We do ramen right!” on their website, I’m compelled to take them up on it. Probably the last word in Japanese cuisine and certainly the last in alphabetical order on my database, Zutto occupies an impressive corner property complete with a wrought-iron railed sidewalk café and bright red awning. Now decorated with white twinkle lights for the holiday season, it’s an inviting site.
Inside, a small Captain’s Station is to the left, flanked by an equally small bar riotously bedecked with multi-colored twinkle lights. Under the black ceiling, bare-topped tables occupy most of the crescent-shaped dining area, wrapped around a state-of-the-art sushi bar culminating in a Christmas tree ablaze with more rainbow lights. The young lady tending the Captain’s Station led me to a table about midway on the far wall and facing the sushi bar. She presented me with the food and wine menu and a single well-worn card featuring the specialty drinks.
Being early in the evening, there were not too many customers beside myself and I had the experience of two servers vying for my attention. Araya arrived first and took my water preference and drink order. I told her that after the busy day I had I could use a Corpse Reviver Cocktail – gin, Cointreau, Lillet, absinthe, and lemon juice, garnished with a slice of lime. This mildly potent concoction adequately served its purpose.
The food menu was divided into two parts, equally interesting; 1. Kitchen: with Steamed Buns, Small Plates, Ramen, Ramen Toppings, Plates, and Sides, and 2. Sushi: with Appetizers, Sushi and Sashimi, Maki Zushi (special rolls), and Chef’s Selection Plates. Both Araya and a second server came to my table asking if I wished an appetizer.
I told whoever was first that I wanted to try the Gangnam Style Buns – spicy pork, kimchi, scallions and spiced mayonnaise – not just because of the fad-dance tune name, but because of the fusion of ingredients. I love Chinese pork buns and Korean kimchi (spiced cabbage), and having the two together sounded too good to be true. But it was true. They were heavenly. The fluffy, soft, neutral flavored buns were wrapped around zesty, tender pork pieces and squares of medium-spiced kimchi and sprinkled with chopped scallions. Combined with the mayo sauce, it was a party for the taste buds. There were two in the serving but I could easily have eaten more.
Considering how much I love sushi, I decided that I would have a “small plate” before ordering two sushi rolls. I had the Zutto roll (crab stick, avocado, shiso, and cucumber with spicy crawfish on top) and the animal roll (short ribs, jalapeno and garlic with a soy glaze) destined to be my main course. Knowing this, I didn’t want to fill up on my next course.
I ordered the Zutto fried rice, made with chorizo, kimchi, and pastrami and topped with a fried egg. The four-inch square bowl, easily two inches deep arrived filled with small-grained fried rice and smelling wonderful, but… This is a small plate? I ordered a glass of Tres Palacios Chardonnay from Maipo Valley, Columbia, to go with it and paced myself. The combination of the strongly flavored chorizo and the kimchi was amazing, a savory, almost musky experience and an unusual mixture of spices. Fireworks were exploding in different parts of my mouth. Araya asked me how I liked it and I raved about the dish. She told me that kimchi is too spicy for her, but I assured her that this kimchi is nowhere near as spicy as you would get in a Korean restaurant.
The one glass of wine lasted halfway through this “small” dish and I decided to make the dinner a wine-tasting as well. I ordered a glass of the I Casali Pinot Grigio from Venezia, Italy, to act as both an accompaniment and palate cleanser. I was impressed that the two wines, so different in taste – the chardonnay was crisp and light and the pinot grigio golden and tannic – both were good with the dish.
When I had finished the fried rice, the second server arrived to ask if wanted any sweets. She must have seen other people fooled by the heftiness of this dish. But I told her I was not ready for dessert yet and was considering the sushi rolls. Still, my appetite was waning as a result of the filling rice and I had to demur on my original choice. Instead, I chose two of my favorite sushis, flying fish roe and uni (sea urchin). It was good to see the Sushi Chef brighten up. He was preparing his display meticulously until I finally ordered (only two people were at his bar, one designing a holiday flyer on her laptop and the other drinking).
Soon, a long, narrow white plate with an azure center was brought to me holding the four beautiful pieces of sushi, some shaved ginger and a small mound of wasabi. I used my chopstick to add a little wasabi to each and went to pick up the first. Surprise! The supporting structure was not the traditional rice wrapped in nori (seaweed), but a slice of cucumber! How novel. But is it still sushi? I guarantee you that it was all delicious and delicately flavored but I wondered about the nomenclature. I ordered a glass of Groth Sauvignon Blanc from Napa Valley California, which complimented it perfectly. Araya laughed because I kept switching wines.
Normally, I would not order anything chocolate in a Japanese restaurant, not to mention one that considers itself also a pub, but there was one intriguing dessert I had to try. The chocolate pots de crème (actually it should be singular) made with burnt sugar, maldon salt, and Grand Marnier and topped with whipped cream was a singular delight. It had wild contrasts of creaminess and graininess, sweetness and saltiness and the hint of orange, which made it a unique attraction on the menu.
Araya offered a mug of hot green tea on the house to go with it. It was exactly the right thing. Zutto has been operating for at least eight years and when I checked my database, I had dined there before. But it was not memorable. There was a major revival of the restaurant in 2013 with a new chef and new concepts (unknown to me) and I’m glad there were. I may go back there on a lunch break to try those two tempting rolls. And let’s not forget that ramen they brag about. Heck, I will definitely return.