Bluejay and Delicate Steve Played Brooklyn Bowl Dec. 13

Checked out my first show at Brooklyn Bowl last week. A bit of a haul from the subway in the snow and frigid air, but The Boy, The Bone Collector, the Future Texan and I slogged through, and it was more than worth it. The place is huge, sells homemade pork cracklin's and has a decent craft beer selection. And then there were the bands.

Bluejay was first up and includes Young B on guitar. He is the quintessential designer by day, rock star by night. He works at The Boy's office, so we had to make the trip out there to represent.

They kept the crowd lively with their toe-tappin tunes, and Young B showed an effervescence not often seen at the office.

Following their set was Delicate Steve, masterminded by, um Steve, but played with considerable abandon by a band of five. While Steve may be the mastermind, the drummer is doubtless a conspirator in this music democracy, and he exhibited the most agile, physical and amazing drumming I've seen up close. He had the audience mesmerized. As befits such a democracy, the drummer was at the front of the stage, equal with the rest of the band and better for viewing his considerable skills. And while the rest of the band exuded a practiced cool, the drummer gave off a whiff of band nerd, quickly dispelled when he picked up his sticks. Awesome. Check out the pics.

All photos by Shanda Boyett. Copyright 2010.

A Magical Night In The City - Wizards, Waffles and Commerce

The Boy and I, along with The Bone Collector and the Future Texan, went out for a grown-up dinner last night in Greenwich Village, with drinks at 8th Street Wine Cellar followed by dinner at one of our new fave places, Commerce. Check out their yummy menu.

This being New York, the food and wine were only part of the draw. We saw a wizard on the way to the restaurant. I'm pretty sure it was Dumbledore. He wasn't dressed as elaborately as in the movies, but did have on a long robe and wizarding cap, with a chock of white beard blowing across his chest. He was pushing a cart which was probably another wizard in disguise. Probably.

Later we got hooted at by a car of unruly teens who obviously thought our hotness was too smoldering to go unrecognized. Or they were drunk. They seemed to be hooting at any passerby, really, now that I think of it. Anyway. . .

As we walked along 7th Avenue between drinks and dinner, we saw a glittering yellow light in the distance. The fabled Waffle Truck was in our midst. We were momentarily seduced by the fragrant sweet air that enveloped the block. The bacon waffle beckoned, and we promised to come back for dessert.

Alas, the dessert menu at Commerce leveled it's own seductive force. A Banana's Foster sundae with banana pudding and vanilla ice cream and a caramel sundae with chocolate brownie bits edged out our notions of waffles in that moment. The great ambiance, comfortable seats and steaming coffee and espresso put them over the line.

We walked wistfully past the Waffle Truck again on our way home, vowing that we would meet one another again some day. I've got the twitter feed. I won't need a wizard to find it.

Big Night Out on the West Side

Checked out Lincoln Center Out Of Doors this week with couple friends.

The string quartet ETHEL was playing with special guest singers and songwriters ADAM SCHLESINGER, MIKE VIOLA, DAYNA KURTZ, JUANA MOLINA, and TOM VERLAINE and PATRICK DERIVAZ.

The Boy was not a big fan of the music which he thought was slightly less annoying than My Bloody Valentine.

So about three quarters of the way through, we packed up and headed to Shake Shack where he had his way with a Purple Cow and I got intimate with a hot fudge sundae. Mmmm.

Sharing some photos here of our

big night out on the West Side.

Photos by Shanda Boyett.  Copyright 2010.

Guilty Pleasure

The West Side Beauty met up with us Sunday night for an over the top dinner at Del Posto. This is one of Mario Batali's joints, and it was ah-mazing. The service was attentive, if a little overbearing. Our waiter hovered over us like Lord Voldemort surveying his chances for evil takeover, which was, frankly, a bit creepy. But the wine steward helped us pick a lovely red wine, and then made quite the show of opening it, and swishing a small amount in our three glasses to clear them of any impurities, I guess. The bulbs of the glasses were almost as big as my calves! You could almost stick your whole face in there.

Then came the food. We got the tasting menu which consisted of an appetizer, a couple of pastas, an entree and dessert.  They also piqued our pallets with a selection of small hors d'oeuvres- a shot of broth, fried cheese medallions and balls of mortadella bologna - as well as a basket of the most glorious breads. Along with butter was a spread of pork fat that took me back to my Granny and Big Daddy's house. Yum.

For our entrees we had a veritable Old McDonald's Farm reunion with pork (not The Boy, of course), duck and lamb. I had the duck, medium rare and just right.

Dessert was a challenge. I really wanted the dark chocolate thing, and I knew I didn't want the apple thing. But Daryl wanted the dark chocolate thing, so I ordered the pumpkin thing, with low expectations. Turns out, in my mind at least, I made the best choice. I ate every bite, and didn't share a crumb. It was one of the best desserts of all time.

Overall, Del Posto was an expensive, but pleasurable experience. Tomorrow, we'll start living la vida recession. 

Chicks Flick

Set out with my girlfriends on Friday night for the 11:30 showing of Sex and the City, the movie. Full of anticipation, we dined at Citrus before we headed to the theatre at Lincoln Center. Women were dressed to the nines - including one who had a feathered bird in her hair -  for the chick flick of the year. 

Little did we know that chicks would actually be flicking, and shoving, and cutting, and cursing, and running to get into the theatre. 

After waiting in a line as long as Samantha's list of sexual conquests, we began moving forward amicably. But then all hell broke loose and large hordes of women began pushing their way forward as if Manolo Blahnik himself was crafting customized pairs of shoes just beyond the double door entrance.

It was a low point in womendom.  And, because of all the craziness ad ruckus, I didn't even dare venture out for popcorn, MnMs and a cherry coke, my movie staple.

Fortunately, the movie itself provided that salty and sweet combination. I just wish there had been a little more sweet and a little less salt within the movie viewing public.