Celine: Through the Eyes of the World
Be prepared. As Blake reads this post, an audible gasp will be heard around the world… or at least throughout Colorado.
Celine: Through the Eyes of the World, the documentary–concert film chronicling the life of Canadian singer, Celine Dion hits theatres this weekend. The film—in French and English—was culled from nearly 13 months of filming during her 2008-09 Taking Chances Tour. Dion’s first tour in 9 years, Taking Chances sold over 3 million tickets in 5 continents, 25 countries, and 93 cities.
Here’s the offical trailer:
As for the Vancouver Winter Olympics, many of us wondered why Celine was absent from the opening ceremonies. According to reports, the Vancouver Organizing Committee (VANOC) invited her but Dion made the choice not to perform. Dion who is once again trying to have a child, was in New York undergoing in vitro fertilization treatment.
Chili Verde
At this point you may be under the impression that the DOD boys do nothing but eat out and are incapable of cooking an actual meal. Today’s post will not help. While we do cook a fair bit on weekdays in our respective kitchens, weekends are definitely for meals out. And last night was no exception. We ventured out to the Highlands to meet up with some friends of ours for dinner. Our first stop, which didn’t take reservations, would have taken about an hour to seat our party, and I was, by that point, ravenous. An hour was far too much time. So we walked a few blocks over to a Mexican place at 37th and Tejon that one of the friends had heard about but not tried: Chili Verde. And we were not disappointed!
The Cactus Margarita Glass
Though it was busy we were seated immediately and just as quickly presented with chips and a number of different dips: salsa, some hot and smoky mixture, and what looked to me like refried bean dip with queso fresco (I’m not much for beans so didn’t try it). We ordered a round of margaritas, which came in these lovely cactus glasses, and then set about determining what to have for dinner. We opted for a shared appetizer: the calamari with chipotle dipping sauce. The calamari was crisp and yet also tender, just as it should be. And the sauce had a little bite, which is rare in Denver, where restaurants tend to assume that diners can’t handle anything spicy. In this respect, Denver can feel just as Midwestern as many of its transplants.
But not at Chili Verde, where our entrees also did not stint on the heat. Alastair and I both opted for the fajitas. I got mine with chicken and Alastair requested a shrimp and steak combo, what he called surf ‘n’ turf. Our dining partners got the chili verde platter and the poblano crepes: shredded chicken rolled in a crepe accompanied by a poblano sauce and rice. The food was all well seasoned and tasty; portions were generous without being overwhelming. All four of us became members of the clean plate club. And to top it all off, the owner very graciously sent over a complimentary dessert, an order of changas: deep fried tortillas wrapped around chocolate and topped with more chocolate, ice cream, strawberries, and whipped cream. The perfect end to a very tasty meal. Could the DOD celebrity have spread to the point that we are now getting free desserts? We’ll try not to let it go to our collective head.
The atmosphere at Chili Verde may not be to everyone’s liking. It is very well lit, with each table having an individual low-hanging pendant light over it. These lights become somewhat problematic when tables get moved around to accommodate larger groups. And there is a huge green rectangle painted on the dining room’s main wall; in the midst of it is a photograph of green chiles that is somewhat dwarfed by the enormity of the painted green rectangle. The front room also contains a bar and a big TV (must all restaurants have a TV?) and some raised tables and bar stools. Last night there was a large gathering of basketball fans who got a little rowdy at times, cheering on their team (Kentucky). They were somewhat irritating, though one of our dining companions appreciated (something of an understatement) the fact that a number of the male fans were wearing basketball jersey tank tops and thus were showing off their well-proportioned arms.
It’s clear that Chili Verde is hoping to be both restaurant and neighborhood hangout and they seem to be succeeding at both. Not only would we recommend it, we hope to return again soon!
Potager
J’aimerais un jardin potager! On Friday, Blake and I visited what has to be our favorite eating establishment located conveniently in the DOD neighborhood on Ogden Street at East 11th Avenue, Potager. Let’s just start this post with “it’s a good time to be here,” some initial words our waiter, John shared with us.
Potager
Potager reminds me of the dining experiences I frequently had in my former life. It changes its menu every month using what is in season and fresh from local farms, such as Pachamama Farm, John Long’s Pork, and Grass Root’s Farm, to name a few. The wine list also changes with the dinner menu. The list highlights local wine distributors and importers, and the majority of the wines are sustainably grown or organic.
After arriving, Blake and I were immediately seated by our favorite hostess (who we are convinced plays a larger role at Potager, beyond the greeting and seating of guests). We sat next to one of the large picture windows that minimize the use of electricity (and may have been responsible for the sudden increases and decreases in temperature we experienced with frequency near the end of our meal). I ordered a glass of the Sauvignon Blanc / Sémillon Bordeaux from France while Blake chose the drier Rioja Blanco from Spain. Both were very nice wines. When it came to ordering, the task was not easy. Like John said, it was a good time to be at Potager. The current menu features many great choices… in addition there were four spectacular specials, each described in depth by our waiter, who also apologized for the myriad of spelling mistakes written on the specials board. John was very attentive but at no point did I feel rushed.
Not ready to choose our main course, Blake and I proceeded to order our starters: a bruleed (yes, as in crème brûlée) duck liver mousse with orange marmalade and the shrimp chowder special with herbed croutons. The dishes came out almost immediately and considering my hunger, it was perfect timing. Blake thought the orange marmalade was very tasty… and he really doesn’t like marmalade. The brûlée provided a great crunch to the mousse. The shrimp chowder, with potatoes and crisp bacon, was with the addition of a touch of salt and pepper, a perfect start.
When we ordered our waiter did not simply acknowledge it in a way that demonstrated he had heard us and understood, instead he had to approve of everything we had said. It started to seem insincere… and honestly, was there anything that he would have disapproved of? In any case, Blake and I were thoroughly entertained by the specials board… Now, if there was one guest that evening to mention this to in advance, John picked the right one! With his editing eye, Blake pointed out one after another: shitaki… giniger… srimp… and perhaps my favorite, wantan!
Speaking of wontons, I ordered the Asian-style braised Grass Roots Farm grass fed beef short ribs with a thankfully toned down version of homemade kimchi [the national dish of Korea] and sticky rice. The sauce that covered the ribs was amazing with just the right amount of sweetness. I paired this with the suggested red wine, a Cabernet-Tempranillo blend. Blake had the grilled long line caught swordfish with lemon. It came with perfectly cooked rosemary potatoes and Jay Hill Farm Swiss chard sauteed with currants, pine nuts, and capers. Blake was very happy. So much so that he indulged my interest in sharing dessert. Ordering dessert is not common amongst the DOD boys, however we settled on a delicious, but hard to tackle Meyer lemon framboise layer cake with lemon cream filling homemade white chocolate lemon ice cream, and blueberry sauce.
It was a superb meal and a wonderful dining experience. Not a surprise at Potager. If you’re looking for a great meal with a warm atmosphere and a wine list to match, the DOD boys highly suggest that you take advantage of the newest menu at Potager before it disappears. I’ve already decided to return soon to taste both the ramen noodle bowl and shellfish stew. Bon appétit!
Kate McGarrigle, 1946-2010
Kate McGarrigle (photo by Dane Lanken)
I grew up listening to Kate & Anna McGarrigle, the Canadian folk-singing duo from Montréal, particularly the album, “Love Over and Over” (1982), whose title track is an exuberant and funny musing about the meaning of love (with special reference to the Brontës):
You ask me how I feel
I said my heart was like a wheel
Why don’t you listen to it sometime
I’ve walked upon the moors
On many misguided tours
Where Emily, Anne and Charlotte
Poured their hearts out
And what did they know
What could they know about love
Or anyone know about love
When I got to college I bought more of their albums, including their eponymously titled debut (1976) that Rolling Stone named one of the best of the year and that was lauded by almost all critics. Their songs are variously serious and whimsical and sad, filled with the music of so many instruments: fiddles and mandolins, pianos and accordions, guitars and violins. And always there are their voices, haunting and somber and beautiful. They released ten albums in total.
Kate McGarrigle died last month at age 63 of clear-cell sarcoma at her home in Montréal and I’ve been listening to their albums a lot in the weeks since her death. They’re just as wonderful as ever. The McGarrigle sisters sing in both French and English (their father was Anglophone, their mother Francophone) and every album has a bit of both, with the exception of “French Record” (1980). They sing traditional French Canadian folk songs (“Blanche Comme La Neige”); plaintive songs about love lost (“I Cried For Us,” above without video); explorations about childhood (“Sun, Son (Shining on the Water)”); and funny ditties that cast the making of salt as a love story between sodium and chloride – “think of the love that you eat when you salt your meat.” (“NaCl”)
Many of their albums feature a whole cast of McGarrigle relatives singing and playing piano and fiddles and guitars and accordions, including their organist sister, Jane; Anna’s husband, Dane Lanken; Kate’s ex-husband, the folk singer Loudon Wainwright III; and Kate’s two kids with him, Rufus Wainwright and Martha Wainwright, accomplished singers in their own right whose albums I also love (including Martha’s brilliantly titled “I Know You’re Married But I’ve Got Feelings Too”). They are also joined by friends like Linda Ronstadt and Emmylou Harris, who have taken some of their songs to even greater fame. A 1981 version of their “Complainte Pour Sainte Catherine” is below (Kate is standing with accordion and Anna is on piano and lead vocals):
CultureHaus Saturday Night at DAM
On Saturday night the DOD boys (and a very good lady friend of ours) attended CultureHaus’s big event at the Denver Art Museum: a celebration of the current DAM exhibit, Embrace, a multi-media show in which 17 artists have taken over the Libeskind-designed Hamilton Wing with their installations.
CultureHaus bills itself as the DAM-affiliated educational and social organization for the “young at heart” to appreciate art. They sponsor talks and social functions for their members, and for anyone else willing to buy a ticket. This particular event was probably attended by between 200 and 300 people and it was a relatively young crowd. It was also a badly dressed crowd. Or, at the very least, it was a crowd that had taken this opportunity – oh so rare in Denver – to dress up! Now in many ways we applaud this as there is far too little dressing up done in the relentlessly casual Mile High City, but sometimes people get a little carried away. There were a number of young and not-so-young women who had worn skin-tight or skin-baring clothing that seemed more appropriate to wearing out to “the club.” It was just a little too well lit at the DAM for this sort of attire: lots of strappy, slinky dresses and what one friend of mine calls “novelty tops”: minimalist blouses of somewhat complicated construction that do not really resemble blouses in the traditional sense. The men tended toward a uniform of jeans, blazer, and button-down shirt, the DOD boys among them. Some paired this with ties; most did not. One intrepid fashion innovator even paired his with a small mink stole (more on this below). One trend I have been noting of late is the blazer with deconstructed or unfinished edges that almost look fringe-like with threads hanging from every edge. I’m not yet sure what I think about this. On the other hand, I do know what I think about blazers with all kinds of graphics all over the back, including words and phrases and images (eagles and falcons tend to predominate). I saw one last weekend in SF with the word “Arrogant” in huge letters across the shoulders. Horrible. Unsightly. Unfortunate.
I could go on about the art – and indeed we took a stroll through the exhibits, one of which, “The Bathers” by John McEnroe, is featured above – but I’m just not very good at talking about art. That’s Alastair’s department but he seems to be silent of late. Instead let me discuss the food. The passed appetizers (how I love a passed appetizer!) were quite tasty: mini crabcakes, barely seared tuna with wasabi on salty chips, and mini cheeseburgers. Very nice. But the stationary appetizer stations were a disappointment: the customary vegetable and cheese plates, pita and hummus (really!?), and great big chafing dishes of meatballs in sauce. Snore. My great complaint of the evening, however, has to be the fact that while the event ended at 10, the bars closed at 9:30. Employees were literally packing up even as the party continued on, and some of us wanted a refill!
Post party many headed over to the Living Room, a spacious bar on Broadway, for cocktails. It was crowded and sometimes difficult to get the bartenders’ attention, but otherwise quite fun. The highlight, however, occurred at the end of the evening. Mink-stole boy (MSB) had also migrated to the Living Room and ‘round about midnight seemed to have gotten into something of a scuffle with another patron who had either made fun of – or actually interfered with; I wasn’t sure – the stole. MSB was not going to take this lying down. I had a front row seat as he got up in the face of the mink anti-fan: “You don’t mess with the mink stole! This was my grandmother’s mink stole! You want to take this outside? Come on buddy, let’s take this outside.” A puffy-haired, white-loafer-sporting, mink-stole-wearing aesthete screaming about his grandmother’s fur and threatening to take out another bar patron is not something I expect to see again soon. In short, it was fantastic. Who knew this was possible in Denver?
United Airlines: Denver Deal of the Decade?
Alastair and I both love to travel, which is also a euphemism for saying that we like to leave Denver with some frequency. And like most Coloradans we find ourselves flying on United and Frontier quite a bit because they have hubs at DIA and thus lots of available flights to get out of dodge. In my 3.5 years here in Colorado I have racked up quite a few miles on both airlines and I am now a Premier member with United’s Mileage Plus Program, which sounds much fancier than it is; the one benefit that I actually appreciate is that I am in Seating Area 1, meaning that I don’t have to worry about finding a place in the overhead bin for my roller bag. I could get into a long discussion here of the relative merits of United and Frontier, but suffice it to say that I know that both airlines certainly have their critics (Alastair tries to avoid United at all costs).
As a Mileage Plus Member I received an email from United in early January advertising what they were calling their Deal of the Decade: buy one roundtrip ticket originating anywhere in Colorado before February 14th for a flight before March 5th and you’d get another ticket free. You were also promised two upgrades on other flights. 2 for 1, in other words, with a few restrictions. Not bad at all, I thought to myself, especially as I have been flying back and forth to San Francisco to see my Gentleman Friend pretty regularly and was planning another trip before the end of February.
A few days ago I tried to take advantage of the Deal of the Decade. I had previously figured out which flight I wanted to take and priced it at $221 on the United website. So I registered myself, wrote in “Denver” in the Electronic Promotions and Certificates box (both steps necessary in order to get the deal and tag one’s Mileage Plus number, thus allowing one to redeem the free flight) and searched again for my flight. Well, this time around it was $556, more than double the first price for the very same flight. I checked my steps and re-searched, convinced that maybe I had inadvertently claimed there were 2 people flying instead of 1. But no, I had done everything correctly. So I called United to figure out what on earth was wrong. And the operator with whom I spoke clearly knew what was up. She explained somewhat hesitantly that the deal was a promotion to encourage travelers to purchase a particular class of tickets. I explained that it thus appeared there was no deal at all, no 2 for 1: I would just be purchasing two tickets up front instead of waiting to buy a second one later. There seemed to be no incentive whatsoever to do this, save perhaps the two upgrades or, I supposed, the possibility that my second flight would be longer and theoretically more expensive than the relatively short flight to San Francisco. She confirmed all of this in vague language that never admitted that there was no actual deal, but also made it perfectly clear that she understood what I was saying and could not offer any justification for it.
I was pissed. So I wrote United a little letter on their website, in which I said much of what you have now read. I explained what I had done and that “one does not, in fact, receive a ‘free’ flight; one just buys two flights at the beginning and pays double. What kind of promotion is this? It’s disingenuous and insulting to your customers.” And last night I received a response from a customer service representative, which I shall quote in full here:
Thank you for being a loyal Premier member.
I am sorry for the disappointment related in your e-mail. We do realize that there are instances when things do not go as they should, such as in the situation that you expressed in your email. We continually review all areas of our operation, and customer feedback to identify specific problems and take corrective action.
Thank you for your patience.
They are sorry for my disappointment and apologize that things did not go “as they should.” Is this an admission that they actually did something wrong or is this just deliberate vagueness that admits of no culpability? Unclear. I’m irritated either way. When I get promotional emails from United or any other airline, I know the drill. I can fly to Bozeman or Durango or some other thoroughly undesirable and underselling location for $89 or whatever the price is. But the terms are clear and I need to go to one of these scary places in order to take advantage of them. I’m not saying that offering up two flights for the price of one necessarily is a wise business decision but I’m not a businessperson and I figured that maybe sales were down and flights were empty and this was a way to get people to at least buy one ticket. Instead it’s just a ruse. Does United really believe that its customers are so stupid that they won’t figure out this sort of trickery? Not if the DOD boys have anything to say about it!
Pizza, Pizza, Pizza
Spinach Slice at Gioia in Berkeley
So while I’m back from my trip to the Bay Area to hang out with my Gentleman Friend, Alastair remains AWOL in NYC, expected back who knows when… In the meantime I give you this meditation on my culinary experiences on the West Coat.
Food is one of the things that I will not disparage about Denver. I am not a foodie but Alastair and I like to eat out and we do so with some frequency, as the pages of DOD demonstrate. It is often great eats here in D-Town (for more on this, see also our sister bloggers over at The Denver Omelette). That said, I am not without my complaints and probably number one on my list is pizza. I have not been able to find a good pizza in Denver. I don’t like the chain options, never have, even though the Gentleman Friend swears by Papa John’s. If I had to go with chain, I would favor Colorado’s own Black Jack. Chain pizza just tends to be smaller, have a puffier crust than I like, a sweeter sauce, and while I like my toppings (meat, particularly) as much as the next person, chain pizza tends to overload it so much that it’s difficult to find the cheese, and what is pizza if not a vehicle for melted cheese?
So, Denver options: Abo’s and Pasquini’s are OK but I haven’t been thrilled with either. Pasquini’s seems overpriced and as puffy-crusted as the chain options. I was going with Abo’s until I stumbled upon Benny Blanco’s and that’s now what I order when I have a yen for pizza. I don’t think it’s perfect – it’s too thin for me, almost cracker-like at times – but this means it’s definitely not too bready, and that’s a good thing. Toppings are good and the sauce is tasty, though they could be more generous with cheese (I dated a guy once who ordered BB’s but with extra cheese and always asked to have the extra cheese sprinkled over the toppings; oh the compromises we make…).
But, as I said, I don’t love any of them. I am generally of the opinion that the best pizza (at least in this country) is in New York: thin but not too thin; sauce not too sweet; generous with cheese to the point of being slightly greasy; tasty toppings; big slices. But this past weekend I was in the Bay Area and spent the afternoon with a friend of mine from school, Jason, a full-fledged heterosexualist who knows his food. He likes pizza as much as I do and as he lives in the ‘hood we decided to check out a couple places for lunch, both in the East Bay. We began with Rotten City Pizza in Emeryville (named for future chief justice Earl Warren’s 1927 declaration that Emeryville was the “rottenest city on the Pacific Coast”). We both had a slice with some sort of sausage with olives. Verdict: good but not great. Definitely thin but not very substantial. Maybe it was just small? Unclear. We were underwhelmed.
Then we went to Gioia in Berkeley. I’ve been here with Jason before and was impressed the first time. Nothing has changed. This is seriously good pizza. I had a slice of pepperoni and one of their special that day: Calabrian sausage, greens, capers, and some kind of hot pepper. The second one was strange and sort of unexpected but quite tasty. And the pepperoni slice was pretty much as good as it gets: a little greasy (meaning plenty cheesy), and thickly sliced pepperoni so you really taste it. Thin crust but not cracker-like; it sags a little when you pick it up the first time. Jason also had the pepperoni and then waited about five minutes for a piping hot spinach pizza to emerge from the oven. Well worth the wait; I tried that, too. Same great cheese and sauce with baby spinach and hints of garlic. This is the one pictured above (with Jason’s first bite removed; he was eager). The owner is friendly and it is clear that this place has fans. There are only a few stools inside so people are taking the slices (or whole pies) to go and eating as they walk. After finishing our first slice standing Jason and I snagged the sole bench out front to enjoy our second slice (third of the day).
Gioia claims to be the “Best Pizza West of the Jersey Turnpike” and I might just have to agree. This is pizza that magically manages to be a little bit fancy without compromising all that makes pizza as wonderful as it is. If Denverites out there would like to recommend something that needs to be tried, however, I am all ears. I would much rather eat good pizza than sit in judgment.
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