restaurants

the british are coming, the british are coming!

in ,

i saw a very good performance of das lied von der erde this evening
at avery fisher hall

...bernard haitink played the stick, christianne stotijn was the beeeeeautiful mezzo,
and mr tenor was richard margison

goodness! that piece is just so powerful! it has every emotion, and it gets so so sooo dark at the end, but sooo heart wrenchingly beautiful. i didn't want it to end. i wanted to hold on to every last little bit of the dying end (when miss mezzo was pretty much owning it).

i loved watching the percussion section.
did you know they often sit when they play??
mr triangle/tambourine/tamtam sat pretty much the whole time, and also did the triangle rolls with two hands.
and mr glockenspiel sounded so different, but so TIGHT!


one small bit about the experience really did not make me happy.
before it began, before the leader (leader is apparently what they call the concertmaster across the pond!) walked on stage,
mrs. god got on the announcer and made a disclaimer for mr. tenor.

A DISCLAIMER!

it went something like, "ladies and gentleman, richard margison, our tenor for the evening, has come down with a cold and would like you to bear that in mind during tonight's performance."

i mean, she might as well have said,

"ladies and gentleman, richard margison, our tenor for the evening, has come down with a cold and would like you to know that that is the reason he is going to BLOW tonight."

let me quickly say that he didn't blow.

he was in fact really good.

and there was absolutely no reason for a (excuse my french)

FUCKING DISCLAIMER

if it's that bad that you need to solicit mrs. god to make an announcement in front of zillions of people who spent good money (or good time stubbing in), then don't sing.


12 cupcakes says that no one in the audience would have known mr. voice was with cold, had announcement not been made.
ugh.
mr. margison was good.
he didn't need a disclaimer.
no one ever needs disclaimers.
especially as you are about to walk on to the stage of avery fisher to sing one of composers' greatest gifts to society.


anyways,
continuing on about the london invasion

"percussionists are like the hussein bolts of the music world"
-david jackson


david jackson, the LSO's cymbal player gave a wonderful masterclass yesterday at my school!
his cymbal sound is so different from american cymbal sound.
the notes are more elongated, and the whole choreography of the crash is so relaxed and smooth.
i've never seen cymbals played with such artistic grace.
he played the la mer cymbal part for us, and the way he mixed sounds of the suspended cymbals was like mixing colors to paint a picture (his analogy, not mine :-). it was so complex and TIGHT!
it was so fascinating hearing such a different perspective on cymbals.

it makes me actually want to practice cymbals...




oh no. i'm falling asleep.

tomorrow is the new york city dumpling festival.



xoxo


yeh


if you're feeling pooey and want to go on a blog hiatus...

in ,
{this is what you should do instead}


shoot up with some vitamins b12
practice the vibraphone until your hands bleed
listen to sigur rós
eat at the place (have their sweet potater ravioli)

try a scallop!!


75 1/2 bedford street

stroll around the village, peruse the beautiful houses...
like the ones with red doors
and the ones with addresses that are not whole numbers.


eat cake and stuff.

:-)


i told you hiatus would only last a day.


xoxo


yeh



OH.
post script:


my apologies for being too excited about the red velvet cake ice cream to actually..talk about it...

so... two boots:

go there.
despite the fact that the sista and the brotha behind the counter needed a happy pill,
or a better job,
or something real to be sad about
(working at an ice cream and pizza shop doesn't count).
i mean, seriously, you should have seen the horrified looks on their faces when i walked in and said,

"hi"


excuse me for being happy to be there.
*flips hair*

anyways.
josh and i ate pizzas. i had a slice of the mel cooley and the mr pink
(i think? what's with the names?)
they were pretty darn tasty. the crust was spectacular, despite the fact that sista burnt mr pink.

of course the whole time i was looking forward to the ice cream though.

it was pink-ish, with little pieces of white cake, no frosting.
it was so good.
i mean, sometimes i wonder if i would be able to tell red velvet cake in a blind taste test if it didn't have the cream cheese frosting. but, i don't know what it was, this ice cream actually hit it on the nose. maybe there's cream cheese in the ice cream? ooooh weeeeeird.











wallsé, holy s***

in , ,
{mum's visit continued}




ladies and gentlemen,
i'd like you all to recall my schnitzel rant.
(ok, i know it wasn't a rant. it was more or less a praise for the famed and illustrious schnitzel truck... but let's all agree that you'd be slightly sour too if one of your all time fave foods had to come out of a truck that you could only chase down via twitter.)

well, mum really overdid herself this time on the schnitzel radar.
she surprised me with a little restaurant in the west village by the name of wallsé.
now, to be honest, until this weekend, i really had not had a meal that quite compared to that one drop dead delicious feast at enoteca vespaio in austin years back.
but (to reiterate the title of this post)

wallsé, holy shit.

kurt gutenbrunner is the chef,
and wallsé is the name of his hometown in austria.
so, being austrian, he's naturally going to know a good schnitzel.

...but a fantastically mouth-gasmic,
size of your head,
crisped to perfection (with little folds of extra fried crispy-ness),
out of this world wienerschnitzel?

this man is not just a native austrian,
he's a fucking super hero.


it was almost shocking how good this meal was.


...so this schnitzel, it had a few friends:

lemons (extra lemons, of course)
lingonberries
spätzle with quark cheese (hold the rabbit bits for me, please)
potato and cucumber salad (never have i ever before liked potater salad, but this was delicious)

and

an elderberry gimlet
the bartender in this joint also happens to be a super hero of sorts
however at one point during the evening i had an error in judgement and ordered a pepper vodka drink with tomato something. (i guess i was intrigued by the pepper vodka?)
it made me want to puke my brains out.
but good thing herr waiter was nice and instead brought me some light riesling.


...all of schnitzel's friends worked so well together! the sweetness of the lingonberries + the sour lemons + the crispy hot schnitzel and the cool refreshing potaters... and i mean, the spätzle, ohhhh the spätzle.
it was like mac and cheese's stylish high society older sister.


we couldn't believe how fast we ate.
it was like a kuhn's date on steroids.

and might i also mention that the decor and ambiance were perfect as well. so relaxing! and our corner table was perfect for people watching and.. chilling...


oh.. and... ummm...


we somehow had room for dessert.


dessert was a homemade mozart kugeln on a light crispy carmel-y (?) cookie
with pistachios and gold to top it off.
i think that speaks for itself, no?



oy vay, i can't think of enough nice things to say about this place!

i'm most definitely coming back here:
a) every time that mum visits, and
b) whenever i want



i love you, wallsé.




xoxo


yeh