As exciting as all the new restaurant openings have been, it's doubly so when the restaurant is in my neighborhood.
Such was the case at the Magpie, a charming place in Carver and a short walk from my house. I knew one of the owners from my forays out (Stronghill and Bacchus) and, even closer to home, from census taking in Jackson Ward.
The last time I'd set foot in that space, it was the Leigh Street Grill and my friend and I had scarfed down some most excellent chicken and waffles.
Today, I found a turn-of-the-century style restaurant with a pressed tin ceiling, an elaborate red velvet settee and one of the most eclectic art collections I've seen, with lithographs, oils, local art and etchings.
On the stereo was Pandora tuned to a classic rock station. Except for the occasional misstep ("Rock Me Like a Hurricane"?) it was straight on with The Who, Beatles, Rolling Stones and the like. Scorpions need not apply.
Pale green walls had a faux-marble finish and the dark wood everywhere was quite striking against it.
The menu had so many interesting choices that I labored over it while trying to decide. Wine was easy; I chose the Thurston Wolfe Lemberger Rose and was quite satisfied with its peppery dark fruit.
One stool away was a familiar restaurant face obviously enjoying his meal, so I solicited his opinion on what to order.
He had high praise for the grilled housemade sausage, so I stored that information for the future and ordered instead the local heirloom tomato salad with basil and Mozzarella ice cream.
It's hard to go wrong with a Caprese salad at this time of year, but this one had an ace in the hole.
The beautiful heirlooms tasted of summer, but it was that Mozzarella ice cream that will be the topic on the lips of everyone who orders this dish.
Its sweetness, the creamy texture and, yes, the cold of the ice cream made for a truly memorable tomato dish, a variation on the classic sweet and salty.
As a side note, it has romantic origins. The chef created it for his vegetarian girlfriend who eats a Caprese salad anytime she sees it on a menu.
The small bar lends itself to being a community space and, at least tonight, there was much shared conversation and offering of shared wine among us.
Just as I was getting more rose, a familiar restaurateur came in with a friend and they added more lively voices to the group.
For my next course, I had the braised Wagyu beef tongue ravioli, made with Dave and Dee's oyster mushrooms over an asparagus puree with grilled white corn kernels.
The earthiness of the tongue complemented the elegant taste of the asparagus and the niblets of corn gave a nice crunch to an otherwise creamy dish. Well done.
The chef stopped by to ask how I'd liked my food and I shared my thoughts. I put in a plug for seeing the seared antelope with drunken blackberry sauce on the small plate menu so people like me could try it.
I briefly considered the small chocolate milkshake with peanut butter cookies on the dessert menu, but opted for a half a pink instead.
But one of my fellow bar sitters had it and the look on his face said it all.
Before long, I expect to see the same slow drivers I usually encounter in front of Black Sheep in front of the Magpie.
We neighbors call it the "Carver cruise" and it's where those unfamiliar or unsure of the neighborhood drive by the restaurant v-e-r-y slowly and usually repeatedly before letting out the womenfolk directly in front of the restaurant and then doing the manly thing by parking the car.
I'll be walking over, so none of that affects me as long as they leave a stool open for me at the new neighborhood joint.
After dinner, I was meeting a friend and his new girlfriend at Balliceaux.
They weren't yet there, so I found a barstool, ordered a Hornitos and struck up a conversation with the guy sitting next to me.
It was fate; he's living in NYC and considering a move down here and if anyone relishes the challenge of convincing someone what a great town this is, it's yours truly.
Over the course of the next hour or so, I learned that he was into art, music and restaurants (and iPod apps, but I was willing to overlook that), so we found loads to talk about.
He's decided that rather than build the new Institute for Contemporary Art at Belvidere and Broad, it should be an Institute of Contemporary Cuisine.
I say why not both?
When he finally left to meet a friend at Selba (after soliciting my opinion on it), I moved to the back bar where Amazing Ghost was to play.
Tonight's show had been billed as "Christmas in July" and when I walked back there, the DJ was playing music from Vince Guaraldi's "A Charlie Brown Christmas."
It may be the first time I'd heard that song in July, but it wasn't completely unwelcome, either. My favorite server had already warned me that he'd be playing an inappropriate Santa in the shortest possible shorts.
I found a musician friend with whom to discuss over-produced sophomore albums (Fleet Foxes, Bon Iver, in his opinion) as the crowd around us continued to grow.
Finally my friend showed up and we moved back up front so I could met his beloved and be able to talk about what she could do in Richmond (telling me that, "I've told her so much about you that she thought you were multiple people").
Are we noticing a pattern here?
But of course, I do think there are myriad reasons to stay in Richmond, so we spent several hours drinking and talking about all the things they need to see and do.
The fact is, I'd met this friend when he moved back here and became a regular reader of my blog.
He was always leaving comments, amazed at an activity or food or something he hadn't known was in Richmond until he read my posts.
I don't look like a cheerleader, but maybe that's my lot in life, at least for the moment. It's not like I don't have the time to do it.
On the other hand, I did come home to two phone messages and an e-mail from a friend who's in DC on business.
They all said essentially the same thing, although the voice mails used a fevered voice to convey the message.
"Brace yourself. I met the man of your dreams in DC. You need to meet this guy! It's all arranged. Can you be up here Tuesday night?"
Surely I need to be selling someone on how great Richmond is that night.
Showing posts with label amazing ghost. Show all posts
Showing posts with label amazing ghost. Show all posts
Saturday, July 30, 2011
Friday, October 29, 2010
Restaurant Week Summit
It was a simple little night without an extensive itinerary and with a mere two stops. It wasn't staying home so it won't be enough to impress my friend Andrew, but maybe he'll consider it a baby step in that direction.
I didn't even go out until 9ish and then it was to Garnett's to meet a friend for some end-of-the season Famega vino verde (perfectly appropriate given the weather and a distant Portuguese nod to today being Champagne Day) and restaurant talk. Okay, maybe some guy talk, too, but that's inevitable when we're together.
The real topic of the evening was power tripping. Let's just say this whole Restaurant Week debacle of who's allowed to participate and who isn't came up, with both of us landing squarely on the side of everyone who wants to participate being allowed to.
When I'd had brunch at Bonvenu Sunday and heard that they were going to be renegade participants in RW, I thought it was a great idea, but hadn't blogged it for fear that undue attention might bring some sort of reprisal for them. I could never have imagined that a "cease and desist" letter might be the result of their good intentions.
We decided that the best thing that could come out of this unfortunate series of events would be a change in how Richmond handles RW. I have no doubt that the Central Virginia Food Bank would subscribe to the theory of "the more, the merrier." And we do so want to be merry about our charitable eating, don't we? Shouldn't we?
Once we had decided that important matter, we were free to go to Ballliceaux for an evening of stellar music by local favorites, Amazing Ghost. Well, us and a hundred or so other people eager to dance, sway and head-bop. And, as usual, with lots of local musicians in the audience.
What is it about this time of year that brings out the creative energy in musicians? That's a rhetorical question, more a statement of fact, but so true.
Amazing Ghost's performance was spot-on, melding original work and covers in one seamless set. As a music geek friend said, leaning in mid-transition, "I love how well they planned this set."
Was he referring to the "Born in the USA" cover? Or the "Halloween" theme conclusion? For that matter, it could have been trumpeter/keyboard player Bob Miller's impressive suited ensemble, complete with chin-length blond wig and rose-colored shades.
I totally get that; I have a tendency to see the world through rose-colored contacts myself.
Evidence to the contrary, I just can't seem to help it.
I didn't even go out until 9ish and then it was to Garnett's to meet a friend for some end-of-the season Famega vino verde (perfectly appropriate given the weather and a distant Portuguese nod to today being Champagne Day) and restaurant talk. Okay, maybe some guy talk, too, but that's inevitable when we're together.
The real topic of the evening was power tripping. Let's just say this whole Restaurant Week debacle of who's allowed to participate and who isn't came up, with both of us landing squarely on the side of everyone who wants to participate being allowed to.
When I'd had brunch at Bonvenu Sunday and heard that they were going to be renegade participants in RW, I thought it was a great idea, but hadn't blogged it for fear that undue attention might bring some sort of reprisal for them. I could never have imagined that a "cease and desist" letter might be the result of their good intentions.
We decided that the best thing that could come out of this unfortunate series of events would be a change in how Richmond handles RW. I have no doubt that the Central Virginia Food Bank would subscribe to the theory of "the more, the merrier." And we do so want to be merry about our charitable eating, don't we? Shouldn't we?
Once we had decided that important matter, we were free to go to Ballliceaux for an evening of stellar music by local favorites, Amazing Ghost. Well, us and a hundred or so other people eager to dance, sway and head-bop. And, as usual, with lots of local musicians in the audience.
What is it about this time of year that brings out the creative energy in musicians? That's a rhetorical question, more a statement of fact, but so true.
Amazing Ghost's performance was spot-on, melding original work and covers in one seamless set. As a music geek friend said, leaning in mid-transition, "I love how well they planned this set."
Was he referring to the "Born in the USA" cover? Or the "Halloween" theme conclusion? For that matter, it could have been trumpeter/keyboard player Bob Miller's impressive suited ensemble, complete with chin-length blond wig and rose-colored shades.
I totally get that; I have a tendency to see the world through rose-colored contacts myself.
Evidence to the contrary, I just can't seem to help it.
Sunday, July 25, 2010
Front Row for the Silent Music Revival
I'm a regular at the Silent Music Revival, so much so that I get called out if I miss a month. I was at the beach for the June installment and my absence was duly noted. The next morning, I got an e-mail from Jameson, the organizer of the event, checking to make sure everything was okay with me. He assumed something had to be wrong because I hadn't been there.
The Silent Music Revival is a can't miss event for me for several reasons. The combination of a vintage silent film and a band improvising a score is irresistible to a film and live music lover such as myself. The event is free. It's held at Gallery 5, within walking distance of home. And Jameson is one of my favorite people, a knowledgeable film geek and talented musician. That's a lot to draw me in.
Tonight's screening began with an animated Prohibition short, espousing the evils of drink. Tonight's band, Amazing Ghost, provided a rousing score to this hilarious morality tale. Mamas, don't let your babies grow up to be drinkers or they'll dance and carouse instead of attending temperance lectures at Soda Pop Hall. It's true.
The main feature this evening was Erno Metzner's 1928 film Uberfall, about the string of events that befall a German man who finds a counterfeit coin, only to have a run of bad luck from then on. Although considered avant garde, the film does have a narrative, albeit a depressing one (it was banned by German censors in 1928 for being so demoralizing).
Downer or not, Amazing Ghost did an amazing job creating a soundtrack to the series of unfortunate events that overtake the main character. The keyboard and other-worldly vocals provided just the right touch of tension to match the visuals. When the film ended, they continued to play for a while longer, as if refusing to release the audience from their spell.
I'd gone alone but found plenty of friends in attendance, so four of us (including one of the guys in AG) headed to Tarrant's afterwards for some liquid refreshment at the hands of a familiar bartender ("Vino verdhe?" he inquired on arrival) and to discuss upcoming music events. We were momentarily distracted when Sly and the Family Stone's "Everyday People" came on; it seems to be one of those songs everybody reacts strongly to. Interesting, that.
Two of us cut loose and began a leisurely walk back through the Ward, enjoying temperatures that had to have dropped 20 degrees since earlier. It occured to me that I'd been to movies three times in the past 35 hours, probably a record for me, like this heat.
But the fact is, I'd have gone to the Silent Music Revival even if it hadn't been in air-conditioned comfort. It's that good.
And now I know: Jameson takes attendance.
The Silent Music Revival is a can't miss event for me for several reasons. The combination of a vintage silent film and a band improvising a score is irresistible to a film and live music lover such as myself. The event is free. It's held at Gallery 5, within walking distance of home. And Jameson is one of my favorite people, a knowledgeable film geek and talented musician. That's a lot to draw me in.
Tonight's screening began with an animated Prohibition short, espousing the evils of drink. Tonight's band, Amazing Ghost, provided a rousing score to this hilarious morality tale. Mamas, don't let your babies grow up to be drinkers or they'll dance and carouse instead of attending temperance lectures at Soda Pop Hall. It's true.
The main feature this evening was Erno Metzner's 1928 film Uberfall, about the string of events that befall a German man who finds a counterfeit coin, only to have a run of bad luck from then on. Although considered avant garde, the film does have a narrative, albeit a depressing one (it was banned by German censors in 1928 for being so demoralizing).
Downer or not, Amazing Ghost did an amazing job creating a soundtrack to the series of unfortunate events that overtake the main character. The keyboard and other-worldly vocals provided just the right touch of tension to match the visuals. When the film ended, they continued to play for a while longer, as if refusing to release the audience from their spell.
I'd gone alone but found plenty of friends in attendance, so four of us (including one of the guys in AG) headed to Tarrant's afterwards for some liquid refreshment at the hands of a familiar bartender ("Vino verdhe?" he inquired on arrival) and to discuss upcoming music events. We were momentarily distracted when Sly and the Family Stone's "Everyday People" came on; it seems to be one of those songs everybody reacts strongly to. Interesting, that.
Two of us cut loose and began a leisurely walk back through the Ward, enjoying temperatures that had to have dropped 20 degrees since earlier. It occured to me that I'd been to movies three times in the past 35 hours, probably a record for me, like this heat.
But the fact is, I'd have gone to the Silent Music Revival even if it hadn't been in air-conditioned comfort. It's that good.
And now I know: Jameson takes attendance.
Friday, June 18, 2010
Still Running with Scissors
In my never-ending quest to check out the new and interesting in RVA, I went to the Off the Wall: Intersections of Art and Architecture opening tonight at the Virginia Center for Architecture.
Barboursville Winery was doing the pouring (always a good thing) so the crowd sipped as we investigated the new exhibit.
Because of the shift in how people view public art over the past forty or so years, there has been a change in what is being created and the line between art and architecture has blurred; artistic conventions have been questioned, resulting in a melding of the two.
From public squares to playgrounds, the exhibit showed how we've come to see architecture as art.
"Your Black Horizon Art Pavilion" was a fascinating installation consisting of a slotted entrance (overlooking water) to a pavilion which created patterns of natural light through which a visitor walks in order to get to the black box where a band of light mimicked the rhythms of the natural light patterns.
The art and architecture were read as one element. and it was very cool.
My other favorite was a proposal for last year's InLight exhibition.
Called "Tree Wraith," it appeared to be the shadow of a tree on the facade of the Greater Richmond Convention Center.
Solar cells delineated the tree and were used to collect energy during the day and emit it at night.
The name comes from the fact that an actual tree could not grow in this spot up against the building; in some ways, it suggested a memory of the trees lost to the construction of the convention center.
I wish it had been executed because it added a humanistic element to that behemoth of a building on Broad Street.
Afterwards, I met up with a a friend and we walked over to Bistro 27 for a meal because she had a craving for their calamari with polenta.
A handsome nearby barsitter was eating a Caesar salad with grilled shrimp and it looked so appealing (as did he) that I ordered it.
It's not something I ever order, as evidenced by Dave bringing it over and setting it down in front of my friend.
When we pointed out the mix-up, he glared at me. "Since when do you order a salad for dinner?"
Never, I had to admit, but that doesn't mean that I can't change things up occasionally. It happens.
Our primary purpose in getting together had been to hear live music at Six Burner tonight and we weren't the only ones.
My bar stool of choice was occupied when we arrived, so we made do with a table until the bar cleared out some and then moved over, the better to chat with the staff and not be blown out by the speakers.
Bartender Josh delivered the CDs he'd promised me last weekend, told me why I'd like them and guaranteed a good show.
The crowd started out noisy, chatting over opener Kevin, but quieting down for singer/songwriter Eric Manwiller; he had an excellent singing voice which seemed to capture the audience's attention, even with all the beer being poured.
Favorite lyric: "I ain't running with scissors no more."
Personally, I haven't made that commitment yet (perhaps that's part of my problem).
But Josh, Eric's producer, had been right on the money about this guy and we couldn't resist leaving with the CD.
We made one final stop at Balliceaux because Amazing Ghost was playing and they never disappoint.
I'm happy to say we arrived in time to hear them cover "Born in the USA" and while it's a few days past Flag Day, it was rousing (and unexpected) nonetheless.
As usual, the audience was full of local musicians, so there were plenty of interesting people to talk to, even if my favorite bartender was absent (but then I knew he would be).
From tree wraiths to the Boss in eight hours. What a strange, full evening it's been.
Barboursville Winery was doing the pouring (always a good thing) so the crowd sipped as we investigated the new exhibit.
Because of the shift in how people view public art over the past forty or so years, there has been a change in what is being created and the line between art and architecture has blurred; artistic conventions have been questioned, resulting in a melding of the two.
From public squares to playgrounds, the exhibit showed how we've come to see architecture as art.
"Your Black Horizon Art Pavilion" was a fascinating installation consisting of a slotted entrance (overlooking water) to a pavilion which created patterns of natural light through which a visitor walks in order to get to the black box where a band of light mimicked the rhythms of the natural light patterns.
The art and architecture were read as one element. and it was very cool.
My other favorite was a proposal for last year's InLight exhibition.
Called "Tree Wraith," it appeared to be the shadow of a tree on the facade of the Greater Richmond Convention Center.
Solar cells delineated the tree and were used to collect energy during the day and emit it at night.
The name comes from the fact that an actual tree could not grow in this spot up against the building; in some ways, it suggested a memory of the trees lost to the construction of the convention center.
I wish it had been executed because it added a humanistic element to that behemoth of a building on Broad Street.
Afterwards, I met up with a a friend and we walked over to Bistro 27 for a meal because she had a craving for their calamari with polenta.
A handsome nearby barsitter was eating a Caesar salad with grilled shrimp and it looked so appealing (as did he) that I ordered it.
It's not something I ever order, as evidenced by Dave bringing it over and setting it down in front of my friend.
When we pointed out the mix-up, he glared at me. "Since when do you order a salad for dinner?"
Never, I had to admit, but that doesn't mean that I can't change things up occasionally. It happens.
Our primary purpose in getting together had been to hear live music at Six Burner tonight and we weren't the only ones.
My bar stool of choice was occupied when we arrived, so we made do with a table until the bar cleared out some and then moved over, the better to chat with the staff and not be blown out by the speakers.
Bartender Josh delivered the CDs he'd promised me last weekend, told me why I'd like them and guaranteed a good show.
The crowd started out noisy, chatting over opener Kevin, but quieting down for singer/songwriter Eric Manwiller; he had an excellent singing voice which seemed to capture the audience's attention, even with all the beer being poured.
Favorite lyric: "I ain't running with scissors no more."
Personally, I haven't made that commitment yet (perhaps that's part of my problem).
But Josh, Eric's producer, had been right on the money about this guy and we couldn't resist leaving with the CD.
We made one final stop at Balliceaux because Amazing Ghost was playing and they never disappoint.
I'm happy to say we arrived in time to hear them cover "Born in the USA" and while it's a few days past Flag Day, it was rousing (and unexpected) nonetheless.
As usual, the audience was full of local musicians, so there were plenty of interesting people to talk to, even if my favorite bartender was absent (but then I knew he would be).
From tree wraiths to the Boss in eight hours. What a strange, full evening it's been.
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Like You Had Something Better to Do?
I was overdue to check out live music at Balliceaux, so when a friend suggested we go for Amazing Ghost's show last night, I was all about it, even though I'd seen them play barely a week ago.
I still get a little jolt every time I walk in the former Bogart's; it's like seeing an old friend after extensive plastic surgery, but in a good way, not scary.
The back bar was mobbed, but I managed to get a drink from Austin, the bartender (and talented flier-maker for local band, Marionette) and have a quick chat until my friend arrived and we moved to the less crowded front bar.
The bar is tiny there and, of course, there were no two stools together, but after a friendly request, a guy offered to shift right so we could sit together.
He claimed he was doing it for a "cute face," but considering how quickly he joined our conversation, he may have just wanted some company.
He did acknowledge that the black fishnets didn't hurt, either, but by then he was really trying to be our friend, so it was all a bit much.
He'd just ordered the lamb sausage, a dish I had hoped to try the last time I ate at Balliceaux, and had not left room for.
He was kind enough to insist that I try some of his and procured a plate, and roll up so I could partake.
I did enjoy the sausage's spiciness, although I refused to eat the full third of his plate that he was offering.
The conversation moved on to tennis, something he is apparently fanatical about, a sport my friend despises (despite having grown up with a tennis court in her backyard; how unusual is that?) and, being a sport, of absolutely no interest at all to me.
What is this hand/eye coordination of which you speak?
My friend worked as an intern for Sony Music in college and has the best stories about musicians she got to meet and the behind-the-scenes goings-on of the recording industry, so she entertained me with all kinds of anecdotes, including a triple-bill show she saw back in the 90s with the Chili Peppers headlining and supported by Nirvana and Pearl Jam.
And not only seeing Jeff Buckley, but spending an evening talking to him.
On the other hand, her first show ever was Bon Jovi, so that gave me plenty to tease her about, too.
Once the pretty people started arriving, Balliceaux filled up quickly, as it should, for free live music on a Tuesday night.
But then my feelings on that subject are well known; it's all out there if you want it.
And why would you not want it?
I still get a little jolt every time I walk in the former Bogart's; it's like seeing an old friend after extensive plastic surgery, but in a good way, not scary.
The back bar was mobbed, but I managed to get a drink from Austin, the bartender (and talented flier-maker for local band, Marionette) and have a quick chat until my friend arrived and we moved to the less crowded front bar.
The bar is tiny there and, of course, there were no two stools together, but after a friendly request, a guy offered to shift right so we could sit together.
He claimed he was doing it for a "cute face," but considering how quickly he joined our conversation, he may have just wanted some company.
He did acknowledge that the black fishnets didn't hurt, either, but by then he was really trying to be our friend, so it was all a bit much.
He'd just ordered the lamb sausage, a dish I had hoped to try the last time I ate at Balliceaux, and had not left room for.
He was kind enough to insist that I try some of his and procured a plate, and roll up so I could partake.
I did enjoy the sausage's spiciness, although I refused to eat the full third of his plate that he was offering.
The conversation moved on to tennis, something he is apparently fanatical about, a sport my friend despises (despite having grown up with a tennis court in her backyard; how unusual is that?) and, being a sport, of absolutely no interest at all to me.
What is this hand/eye coordination of which you speak?
My friend worked as an intern for Sony Music in college and has the best stories about musicians she got to meet and the behind-the-scenes goings-on of the recording industry, so she entertained me with all kinds of anecdotes, including a triple-bill show she saw back in the 90s with the Chili Peppers headlining and supported by Nirvana and Pearl Jam.
And not only seeing Jeff Buckley, but spending an evening talking to him.
On the other hand, her first show ever was Bon Jovi, so that gave me plenty to tease her about, too.
Once the pretty people started arriving, Balliceaux filled up quickly, as it should, for free live music on a Tuesday night.
But then my feelings on that subject are well known; it's all out there if you want it.
And why would you not want it?
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
Amazing Party with Amazing Ghost
I want to make it perfectly clear that I did not participate in tonight's dance-off, despite being actively recruited and repeatedly cajoled.
What were they thinking, asking me anyway?
The invitation-only party, while held at Ipanema, featured an array and abundance of delicious food from 8 1/2 and the music of Amazing Ghost, whom I'd missed at Balliceaux just a few weeks ago due to prior plans.
Someone asked me if I was familiar with the band and I admitted that I knew of them, but hadn't actually heard them live.
But the fact was that I recognized members of the group from Fight the Big Bull, Bio Ritmo and the Great White Jenkins, so I could honestly say I'd heard over half the band play live before.
This was a group of excellent musicians with songs demonstrating a hilarious sense of humor.
Before they started, we ate ourselves silly and did the mingle thing.
I ran into Amy, whom I hadn't seen in years, and that alone yielded a long catch-up chat filled with love life advice.
I met a friend's new girlfriend, whom he'd met through a dating site, and they both enthusiastically supported the whole online method of finding someone good, even giving countless examples of friends who've met their future spouses that way.
I remain unconvinced, but wish them well.
One of the best conversations I had was with Dan about the difficulties of dating when you have atypical interests.
He's made peace with remaining solo, though, and I can't say that I have.
I got a terrific ego boost from Hunter, who reads my blog regularly late-night and told me he really likes my "city view;" apparently my off-kilter take on RVA keeps him coming back to read at all hours.
Hunter was definitely the star of the dance-off, with his alternately smooth and frenetic moves, not to mention endless energy, so it was kind of like being complimented by the prom king (well, except I didn't go to my prom, but that's another story).
And a man who can cook and dance is a force to be reckoned with, in my humble opinion.
As for me, I'd be more than satisfied if I could eventually find someone who shared some of my nerdy interests.
If he can cook or dance or anything else, it's all gravy.
Of course, first I'd have to be willing to start dating and maybe that would be easier with someone I already know.
Hmm, there's a thought...
What were they thinking, asking me anyway?
The invitation-only party, while held at Ipanema, featured an array and abundance of delicious food from 8 1/2 and the music of Amazing Ghost, whom I'd missed at Balliceaux just a few weeks ago due to prior plans.
Someone asked me if I was familiar with the band and I admitted that I knew of them, but hadn't actually heard them live.
But the fact was that I recognized members of the group from Fight the Big Bull, Bio Ritmo and the Great White Jenkins, so I could honestly say I'd heard over half the band play live before.
This was a group of excellent musicians with songs demonstrating a hilarious sense of humor.
Before they started, we ate ourselves silly and did the mingle thing.
I ran into Amy, whom I hadn't seen in years, and that alone yielded a long catch-up chat filled with love life advice.
I met a friend's new girlfriend, whom he'd met through a dating site, and they both enthusiastically supported the whole online method of finding someone good, even giving countless examples of friends who've met their future spouses that way.
I remain unconvinced, but wish them well.
One of the best conversations I had was with Dan about the difficulties of dating when you have atypical interests.
He's made peace with remaining solo, though, and I can't say that I have.
I got a terrific ego boost from Hunter, who reads my blog regularly late-night and told me he really likes my "city view;" apparently my off-kilter take on RVA keeps him coming back to read at all hours.
Hunter was definitely the star of the dance-off, with his alternately smooth and frenetic moves, not to mention endless energy, so it was kind of like being complimented by the prom king (well, except I didn't go to my prom, but that's another story).
And a man who can cook and dance is a force to be reckoned with, in my humble opinion.
As for me, I'd be more than satisfied if I could eventually find someone who shared some of my nerdy interests.
If he can cook or dance or anything else, it's all gravy.
Of course, first I'd have to be willing to start dating and maybe that would be easier with someone I already know.
Hmm, there's a thought...
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