Tax dollars at work
We went to Yan’s China Bistro for dinner tonight. Just a local Chinese place, nothing fancy. BJ took us out (thanks, BJ!) and we enjoyed the pot stickers, Mongolian Lamb, chow mein Hong Kong style and the scallops in black bean sauce.
The fun started when we got home.
This house is never locked–it would just be silly. There are 21 French doors, and anyone with a rock is going to get in if they want to. On the other hand, we’re well off the road, down a long driveway behind a gate. Not many strangers find their way here.
So we were a bit taken back to find a form from Census, noting that they had been here and missed us and would we call them. And find it on the ledge inside the front door. Our loyal civil servant had managed to step into the house to leave his missive.
Alright, strange enough. But then, an hour later, Gail and I were playing bridge online in the office when we heard shouting from the living room. “Sherrif’s Office!!! Anyone home??!!”
So I go out to investigate. Sure enough, there were two sheriff’s officers, looking in the living room and den. They said the door was wide open. I said I didn’t realize that was a crime, and what were they doing in my house?
Turns out, the little cretin from the Census Bureau found it necessary, in his intrusive governmental way, to call the police and tell them that my door was open. So the cops hurried over to make sure I was alive–I guess only dead people leave their doors open.
When we got rid of the politzei, I called the number on the Census note, and told the little cretin what a jackass he is. Tomorrow, I call the Census Bureau.
Don’t we all feel safer now?
At least I enjoyed the sandwich
The crowd outside just before opening.
So here’s my new theory–places with fancy graphics in the title worry too much about appearances and too little about the restaurant.
Tonight, we went to Flour + Water, an astonishingly hot new place in the Mission district in the City. That’s right, +. Not “&”, not ” ‘n”, not “and” but “+”. Very trendy. Tres chic. If only the restaurant could live up to its graphics.
There were 5 of us, me, Gail, Dick and Joyce Hart and Lorene Lamb. Probably shouldn’t really count Lorene, she’s great company but eats like an anorexic canary.
Reservation for 5:45. Too early, to be sure, but the only one available for such a hot place–and we made the reservation weeks ago. We left early in case there was traffic trouble–the Prez is in town to raise money for Barbara Boxer, which isn’t good for the rest of us peons when it comes to traffic. But the Prez was downtown and we weren’t, so no problem. We got there at 5:25, and saw this huge line of people waiting to get in. Turns out they offer reservations for half of their tables, and walk-in seating for the rest. Hence the line. The walk-ins mostly get either the bar or a large communal table, we at least had a table for ourselves.
Decor is nothing fancy–some impersonal modern photos, very high ceiling, wood tables, no linen. Music way too loud, but the average age in the place was maybe 32 (without us it would be 29) so the volume is appropriate to the crowd.
Service is much too casual for my taste–I don’t really want to see the server’s underwear through the holes in her jeans, and her bra straps hanging out beyond her halter. No uniforms, that would be too “establishment” for the joint.
The menu is my next problem. We eat out alot; I should be able to understand what is on the menu, but no such luck. We had to have the waitress explain each and every dish on the menu. Everything had to have obscure ingredients, pastas you’ve never heard of, preparations created just for that meal.
The grown-ups ordered wine–nothing you might recognize, of course. Everything from a tiny winery in Umbria, or Alsace, or somewhere. I ordered iced tea–and all they have is Tejava, which I buy in Lundardi’s. Sweetener? No way–“we only have natural brown sugar”. I love it when they decide what is good for me. Thanks, mom.
Salads came out fairly rapidly, but the entrees took forever. When you completely fill the restaurant at opening, everyone orders at once, and the kitchen can’t keep up.
Food was mostly good. Different, innovative, well prepared. Portions weren’t all that great. Gail says she likes the pasta I make at home more than what she ordered tonight, but maybe she just likes me.
I didn’t recognize anything on the dessert menu, either.
For this precious, self-righteous, hipper-than-thou experience, the bill was about $50/person (adjusting for the anorexic canary). Not cheap, not atrocious.
Here’s the good news: we had left over roast beef in the refrigerator at home. I stopped for a loaf of bread, and we had sandwiches at 10 o’clock. Nothing better than warm roast beef sandwiches.
Going in The Door
Gail, Iris and Margaret--it's always wisest to go out with three women at a time
Out to dinner tonight, to a place we’d never been before, The Door.
We went with Iris Libby and Margaret Kozak. Iris wanted us to try this new place she’d found, and then follow her back to her new apartment for dessert. That sounded like a plan to me, so off we went to 1448 South Main, across from Kaiser Hospital.
The Door turns out to be a modern, upscale, Asian-Fusion establishment featuring both small and large plates. Small plates are appetizer sized and designed to be shared, large plates are entree size.
Gail and I like small plate restaurants–we can order many different dishes and try more things. Tonight, we had about 8 plates for the 4 of us.
First up was the green papaya salad. I’ve never much liked the big chunks of papaya on tropical breakfast buffets, and always loved the shredded green papaya in salad. I liked this salad, except for the grapefruit sections. Years of selective breeding may have made the average grapefruit more sweet than it was in my youth, but I still think God made a mistake with these overgrown, bitter, acrid lemons.
Did you know that calamari has a season? I didn’t, until last week when we had some really fantastic calamari at Nibblers, and the chef told us that this was the best time of year for squid. It must still be the season, because the calamari tonight tender and tasty as well as beautifully prepared.
Then there was an avalanche of delectable goodies. We loved the barbecued pork spare ribs, yet thought the pork belly was less good. The shrimp and avocado fresh roll was mostly cucumber–not that it was bad, it just didn’t taste much like either shrimp or avocado.
Overall? I’d go back. Service was attentive. They only iced tea they serve is mango flavored, which just doesn’t make it for me. So I had them bring me a pot of hot tea and two glasses of ice, which they did easily and even found a third glass of ice for me later without being asked. The tab for the 4 of us, with a couple of glasses of wine, tax and tip included, was just $100. That’s pretty reasonable for Walnut Creek.
Then we went back to Chez Iris. I got to enjoy some pistachio ice cream and a glass of Baileys while Iris entertained us on the piano. And she doesn’t even have a big balloon tip glass. It was a great evening.
The learning never ends
Class is in session.
So I had to race home from work today and boot up two computers, but it was all for a good cause–Billy Miller was teaching another class, and I needed Bridge Base Online on one computer and Skype on the other. Really cool guys can get them both going with only one machine, but not me.
Billy lays out hands and auctions inside a private chat room on Bridge Base, while doing his teaching in a Skype conference call. The students can respond to his questions and the call if free, so it’s really a great system.
Today’s lesson was on Modified Baze, a system for getting to slam over NT openers. There were perhaps 15 or 20 of us in the class, and it was decidedly time well spent. Now I just have to teach it all to Mike……..
I remember reading years ago about teaching over the radio to high school students in Australia separated by hundreds of mile way far in the outback. Technology has improved, and now Billy can have a class with people anywhere in the world. Your meager $25 payment goes in by PayPal, the lessons come over the internet, life is good.
Gail has already taken his classes on opening leads and squeezes. This class was much more partnership oriented, so I sat in as well. BJ and Terry came over, along with Kay and Barbara. Yes, they all paid him–life is too short to be worried about ripping Mr. Miller off for twenty-five bucks. The topic for the next class is up in the air right now, but you’ll see him in Sacramento next week and can give him some good ideas.
Meanwhile, if you’d like to be on the mailing list for lessons, send him a note at dearbilly@aol.com
Now THAT’S hail
I’ve always wanted to see the “golf ball sized” “baseball size” “softball size” hail they talk about on the news, but since we live in sunny California, we are spared the car-denting, window smashing, plant killing sight of it.
This video is just one more reason I don’t want to live in Oklahoma.
San Francisco Fine Art Fair
Quite the crowd at the fair, where the people watching was as good as the art.
Off to the San Francisco Fine Art Fair this evening, toting along our friends Nina Lyons and her husband, Ron. She is a prolific artist whose work we have collected for years, he is a jazz trombonist.
The Fair is an amazing adventure: dozens of the art galleries from all over the world come to an exhibition hall at Fort Mason shipping their art so they can try to sell it to the massed throngs who crowd through the show. I saw galleries from London, Berlin and Seoul, among others. They rent a relatively small space, and try to fill it with their most salable merchandise. Given the huge costs of travel and shipping, not to mention what they have to pay for their space, nobody is bringing any $100 art.
This Alexander Calder stabile is offered for $2,000,000. You can probably get them to take $1,750,000
This hyper-real sculpture is offered at $38,000. The cutie in the bathing suit on the left is $55,000, but she has arms.
There is more to a show than just price tags, one would hope. We saw so much truly desirable art, and there were things we wouldn’t have in the house on a bet, too. But that’s the art business–there seems to be a market for just about anything somebody can create, from old master knockoffs to kitsch to abstracts to conceptual work. Here are a few more:
https://www.outreachkings.com/
A fair like this is about more than the art, at least to me. The people watching here was fantastic. I think many models segue into art sales after their careers end–it seems to be a requirement that every gallery employ at least on six-foot tall, drop-dead gorgeous woman who speaks two or three languages.
The crowd was a fascinating mix of artistes, the hip, the tragically un-hip, poseurs, arrivistes, old-money, new money, no money, wannabees, has beens and never-were’s.
This is as cool as cool can get.
I have no words.
This was the preview night; the crowds were lighter than they will be on the weekend and the halls were still packed. It’s quite an event, like going to a great museum where you can touch the art and often even talk to the artists themselves. Admission is $20 at the door and $15 online, I think. You can check at their website or just drive on out to Fort Mason. I managed to get Gail home without buying anything, but we are thinking of going back on Saturday to hear a couple of the lectures they are offering in conjunction with the show. We may end up with something new after all.
Hard work pays off
Chef d'cuisine Daniel Clayton with his favorite customer
I’ve mentioned Nibblers Eatery before, but this weekend was so special I decided to do it again.
Five years ago, Daniel and Tracy opened the place, and they have worked day and night ever since. They don’t just maintain the status quo, they are always changing and innovating, with new menu items almost every week, new international themes every month.
Just by eating at my local boite, it’s like I’ve been to Indonesia, Scotland, India, Argentina, Hungary and a dozen other nations. How Daniel manages to find the recipes, and the ingredients, and the time to do it all, I have no idea.
Ever rowdy wine maven Tracy
Tracy runs the front of the house with grace and humor. She knows her wines, she knows her customers, she knows the food. She never seems to have a serious bone in her body, but she manages to be all business at the same time.
Tracy’s daughter Heather waits tables, expedites orders and brightens everyone’s day. I think she goes to school by day, and parties after Nibblers closes. There is no lack of energy in this clan.
Daughter Heather, waitress extraordinaire
Gail and I consider ourselves lucky to have such an interesting and different local restaurant. In a field where 90% of business fail withing 5 years, and then in a poor economy as well, Daniel and Tracy have proven that hard work and talent will succeed. Good for them.
Only in Alabama
Or Texas or Arkansas. Sure as hell not in California. We have bland, middle of the road politicians, not the rootin’ tootin’ gun slinging tough guys they have in the South. I doubt that this guy will be all that great in the job, if he gets it, but his commercials sure spice up the airwaves.
Ballet Whimsy
When I was a kid, I thought that ballet was for sissies and effetes. Life has taught me a thing or two–Gail and I subscribe to two ballet companies, The Smuin Ballet, and Company C Contemporary Ballet. Tonight, we enjoyed Company C.
Beforehand, dinner at Massimo, of course. The perfect location combined with good food and solid service. If you go, order the Waldorf Salad–it’s a signature dish for the house. They’re experts at getting you to the theater on time–I just make a note on my Opentable reservation and they pace the meal perfectly.
On to the Hoffman Theater in the Lesher Center for the Arts. Charles Anderson, company founder/artistic director/ big Kahuna stepped ontstage awfully close to 8:00 on the dot–a pleasant surprise in a world where everything starts 10 minutes late. He gave the usual talk, about how much support they need, and stunned us by saying that ticket sales make up only 10% of the annual budget. Most organizations expect sales to fund 50-60% of the operation.
Then, the show started. The first piece, choreographed by Anderson, was Beautiful Maladies featuring two couples dancing to the music of Chet Baker. Aaron Jackson stands out with grace, fluidity, timing and acting skills. The four dancers received the longest ovation I can remember.
The second piece, Surfer at the River Styx, is a modern classic choreographed by Twyla Tharp. This is a non-narrative piece, set to ultra-modern music. It seemed to be going on and on, but segued into a beautiful, emotive finish.
Finally, there was boink!, choreographed by Val Caniparoli, 10 short, light pieces set to mostly modern music. The whimsy came from having 4 men dancing to Dance Ballerina Dance. You don’t expect to go to the ballet to laugh out loud, but that’s what was happening. The entire piece was simply delightful.
I learned something tonight. We went with Lois Grandi, who was the founder of Playhouse West, a professional theater company in Walnut Creek that sadly succumbed to the economy 2 years ago. Lois started out in life as a ballerina, moving to New York at 17, only to find out that she was too short (4′ 11″) for the ballet and making a career as an actress.
Have you ever wondered how they different companies can perform the same ballet? How do they know what to do? Who goes where? I could never figure it out, after all they’ve been doing this since long before videotape. So I asked Lois, and she told me.
Turns out that ballet is essentially oral lore, passed down from one dance company to another. If you want to perform that Twyla Tharp piece, Twyla or an assistant has to come out and show it to you. There is a way to write a dance down, called Laban notation, but it’s very difficult and not often used, although they study it at Julliard. Consider that my lesson for the day.
This was the close of the Company C season, so it will be next February before we can see them again. Thank heavens there is the Smuin to see between now and then, I may just be an effete sissy after all.
To open or to pass?
So I’ll try to say it well.
Bob Munson runs the Men’s bridge game, which meets one Monday a month. Non-sanctioned game, 8 men playing an individual movement. Sometimes in Bob’s house, sometimes somewhere else.
The game is pretty high caliber–I was a sub for 4 years before I made the cut and got my varsity letter. We play 4 boards with everyone, so sometimes the partnerships are longstanding like Bob and Danny or me and Mike, sometimes we are playing with a guy we rarely or never play with. Considerable table talk is permitted to discuss systems, but the play and defense are serious as a heart attack.
Last Monday I had a hand I’m still musing about–let’s see what you think. I held, second seat, red vs white:
Q96
KQJ9
Q8
QJ92
13 points. I’ve been told since the first day I learned bridge to open 13 point hands. Micky says I should open any 12 with a K. Nancy Boyd want to open all 11’s.
So I held my nose and opened 1C, but I didn’t like it. 50 years ago Charles Goren said to subtract one for no Aces, but maybe he’d add one for the doubleton.
We discussed the hand afterwards, and Mr. Dr. Michlmayr, who regularly opens on air and hope, said he would pass it.
So what do you think? Open or pass? Leave a comment, I think this hand is interesting.
Oh yeah, I can breathe a bit now. Still coughing a little, still don’t have much of a voice, but decidedly better. Thanks for all the suggestions on how to get better–I’m sticking with Thera-Flu and bourbon.
Totally Unauthorized 