They had me at "Taste a world-class wine for peanuts." They were Barrel Thief and every so often they open a bottle of $100 wine and pour tastes for five bucks until it's gone.
I've never had a hundred-dollar bottle of wine, so I decided to do something about that this evening. Being poured was a 2004 Domaine Jamet Cote-Rotie, a 100% Syrah from the northern Rhone. I swirled, I sniffed, I tasted. I liked. Now there's a surprise.
It was intense, with sort of a charred herb aroma and beautifully balanced, the kind of wine you'd want to drink with lamb or some kind of beast right off the grill.
Two women had come in to taste not long after me, so I got to hear their reactions to the wine and have a bit of social interaction.
One said, "It sure doesn't taste like Virginia red wine," providing the kind of informed opinion that made the rest of us laugh out loud.
No, no it doesn't. Our pouring host suggested that perhaps it's because we don't have the sixty-degree angled slopes where the grapes can bake in the Rhone sun.
With no lamb in sight, I couldn't see any reason not to go ahead and order a second tasting, to the amazement of the pourer and the women. When am I likely to have more of this wine? Okay, then.
That fine start to my evening was followed by dinner and live music at Olio, an event I've attended a few times in the past and always enjoyed.
Tonight's performer was the one and only Meade Skeleton, whom I knew of but had never actually seen or heard.
A good number of tables were occupied when I arrived and Meade was in full voice, so I sidled up to the counter to decide what to order, choosing the Italian picnic sandwich for its house-roasted turkey, Granny Smith apple slices, fig jam and Tallegio cheese with garlic aioli on a baguette.
As I waited to order, owner Jason riffed on our last encounter, here, by asking me to move aside so he could greet another newcomer instead of me. There's nothing like a smart-assed restaurant owner to ensure my devoted business.
To go with my sandwich, Jason recommended a bold white or light-bodied red and I deferred to his choice, the Montpellier Pinot Noir, with berry flavors and a nice acidity. It was a lovely accompaniment to my picnic baguette.
I've been on a Tallegio jag lately, having bought a pound and using it to make Tallegio/bacon grilled cheeses whenever I need a little something to tide me over(night).
I usually pair it with a Honeybell or a clementine to offset the sandwich's richness and it's heavenly at 2 a.m. when I need a bedtime snack after a long night out when dinner is a distant memory. But I digress (yet again).
So, yes, Meade Skeleton sang his heart out while playing keyboard, blessing the audience at every turn, but rarely looking at us, his devoted fan base.
He played all his classics, like "Sweet Tea" (an ode to a beverage I detest) and "Hipsters Ruin Everything" as well as some interesting covers like "Your Cheating Heart" and "Daydream Believer."
He even played one of the two jingles he wrote for a commercial contest for Folger's Coffee. He mentioned that his group, the Meadow Street Band (so named because they all attend Tabernacle Baptist Church), had been unable to join him tonight. I didn't even know Meade had a band; I thought he was just a keyboard whiz with a reverence for Elvis.
But then, I don't really know much about Meade except what I'd read a few years back on his blog, most of which had to do with his opinion that RVA's music scene was not receptive to his musical stylings.
And then there was that whole "Is Meade Skeleton a real person or just a parody?" online debate for a while. Oh, he's real, alright and I'm here to say that he was in fine voice tonight.
He told the audience, "Olio has great food, but not if you're on a diet like me," his weight being a subject I recall he blogged about often.
The irony there was that during the break, he had the traditional dieter's snack of a Coca Cola and bag of chips instead of one of Olio's superb salads. Hey, I'm sure it's not easy maintaining a country singer's figure on the road.
Good thing he couldn't see me scarfing down a chocolate souffle with more wine during his second set (they'd just run out of the pistachio gelato yesterday or it would have been even more obscene). I wouldn't want to be a bad example for someone trying to do the right thing.
No indeed. I want to be a good example for someone trying to do the fun thing.
Especially the fun stuff that only costs peanuts.
Showing posts with label barrel thief wine shop cafe. Show all posts
Showing posts with label barrel thief wine shop cafe. Show all posts
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Friday, February 4, 2011
Coveting a Heart-Shaped Box
Is there a better way to start an evening than with wine and chocolate?
Since the obvious answer to that is no, I started at Barrel Thief, where they were doing a wine and chocolate pairing for a mere five bucks. Count me in since I won't likely get a heart-shaped box of chocolates for Valentine's Day.
The first pairing was 2009 Saracco Moscato d'Asti with a Gearhart's apricot-brandy dark chocolate. I am a huge fan of this local chocolate-maker and the beautiful asti with fruit and flowers on the nose called out for the fruity chocolate that accompanied it. This was going to be my favorite pairing, I just knew it.
Next up was the Broadbent 5-Year Madeira, paired with a maple-pecan chocolate. Sweet and nutty with acidity and complexity, the Madeira was just lovely with the chocolate's pecan.
The last pairing was the Lustau PX San Emilio to be enjoyed with the beautifully striped Earl Gray chocolate.
The abundance of sugar in this sherry made it perfect for the bitter chocolate and bergamot of the Earl Gray. This ended up probably being my favorite pairing of the three, because the contrast was so well done.
With a start like that, I needed to follow up with something just as enjoyable. That turned out to be the opening of the Chris Milk Hulbert show at Ghostprint Gallery.
I'm already partial to his work and amongst the local art on my walls is one of his pieces, "Guitar Player," so I knew going in that I was going to be tempted. It's good to know that you're going to be weak in advance,
Tonight's show included a similar piece, called "Gold Strings" where the guitar player had a gold guitar, but I still preferred mine.
The show was whimsical and colorful and if I were going to buy myself another piece, I know exactly which one it would be (just trying to figure out if I can justify the price).
The room was full of Hulbert's friends as well as local art collectors sipping wine and beer and wanting to get first shot at buying his new works. It felt like a lot like a party.
By the time I left the gallery, a couple of pieces had already been sold; I can only imagine what will happen tomorrow night when the show opens to the public.
From there I went to Bonvenu for dinner. The unexpected pleasure was walking in to find an acquaintance already at the bar and insisting that I join him at an adjacent bar stool.
Wine was poured, conversation began and it was like we had planned to meet up. Conversation flowed while he finished his French onion soup and then we both had the crab cake.
Kudos to Bonvenu and Chef Chaz for all the lump back fin and absence of binder in this fine cake. And I say that as one who grew up in Maryland and knows from well-made crab cakes.
The music was 70s and 80s and featured lots of Hall and Oats (sorry, but I did find Daryl Hall attractive in my youth), Stevie Wonder, Michael Jackson, Sheila E. and Cameo.
Not surprisingly, my friend and I used it as a launching point for discussing dance clubs in D.C. in the a previous lifetime (cause we were in Dupont Circle at the same time, although not together).
When he said Blackie's and I responded with Deja Vu, it was like I'd run into my past and then owner Susan jumped in for a discussion of post-club eating in DC and the absence of such in RVA.
How can people be expected to drink and dance for hours and not sop with fatty food immediately afterwards? It's what makes the next day doable, we all agreed.
Dessert was a blueberry cobbler served in an onion soup ramekin and covered in a sweet crust with vanilla ice cream floating on top.
This we shared (along with more wine) while savoring its contrast of warm fruit and cold ice cream. I am a sucker for blueberries and the South American ones in the stores right now are absolutely delicious.
We were barely done with that when a couple came in and asked if the bar was still open (it was; we were proof of that).
A little conversation and we discovered we had a mutual friend; next thing I knew, that friend was being summoned by text from Bamboo.
He showed up with two friends and the wild conversation and imbibing began. My friend and I stayed the course with wine while the newcomers had Mind Erasers (shudder) and added to the mix with their defense of and disdain for their generation's musical competency.
It's amazing how often I find myself defending the current generation's music to the current generation, so many of whom seem fixated on their parents' music. Very odd.
I had to listen to them make a case for both Taylor Swift and Lady Gaga (double shudder), while they also sang the praises of Led Zeppelin and Dave Matthews Band.
I tried not to judge, but it wasn't easy. Kings of Leon seems to be the band that everyone can agree on, for whatever that's worth.
Eventually, I realized that I'd stayed so long that I'd missed the show I'd intended to see. My acquaintance, now a friend after sharing the details of our personal lives, bade me good night. I finished up my music discussion with the newcomers before deciding to make my exit as well.
Is there a better way to end an evening than after a satisfying meal, much good wine and interesting conversation?
Let's not state the obvious.
Since the obvious answer to that is no, I started at Barrel Thief, where they were doing a wine and chocolate pairing for a mere five bucks. Count me in since I won't likely get a heart-shaped box of chocolates for Valentine's Day.
The first pairing was 2009 Saracco Moscato d'Asti with a Gearhart's apricot-brandy dark chocolate. I am a huge fan of this local chocolate-maker and the beautiful asti with fruit and flowers on the nose called out for the fruity chocolate that accompanied it. This was going to be my favorite pairing, I just knew it.
Next up was the Broadbent 5-Year Madeira, paired with a maple-pecan chocolate. Sweet and nutty with acidity and complexity, the Madeira was just lovely with the chocolate's pecan.
The last pairing was the Lustau PX San Emilio to be enjoyed with the beautifully striped Earl Gray chocolate.
The abundance of sugar in this sherry made it perfect for the bitter chocolate and bergamot of the Earl Gray. This ended up probably being my favorite pairing of the three, because the contrast was so well done.
With a start like that, I needed to follow up with something just as enjoyable. That turned out to be the opening of the Chris Milk Hulbert show at Ghostprint Gallery.
I'm already partial to his work and amongst the local art on my walls is one of his pieces, "Guitar Player," so I knew going in that I was going to be tempted. It's good to know that you're going to be weak in advance,
Tonight's show included a similar piece, called "Gold Strings" where the guitar player had a gold guitar, but I still preferred mine.
The show was whimsical and colorful and if I were going to buy myself another piece, I know exactly which one it would be (just trying to figure out if I can justify the price).
The room was full of Hulbert's friends as well as local art collectors sipping wine and beer and wanting to get first shot at buying his new works. It felt like a lot like a party.
By the time I left the gallery, a couple of pieces had already been sold; I can only imagine what will happen tomorrow night when the show opens to the public.
From there I went to Bonvenu for dinner. The unexpected pleasure was walking in to find an acquaintance already at the bar and insisting that I join him at an adjacent bar stool.
Wine was poured, conversation began and it was like we had planned to meet up. Conversation flowed while he finished his French onion soup and then we both had the crab cake.
Kudos to Bonvenu and Chef Chaz for all the lump back fin and absence of binder in this fine cake. And I say that as one who grew up in Maryland and knows from well-made crab cakes.
The music was 70s and 80s and featured lots of Hall and Oats (sorry, but I did find Daryl Hall attractive in my youth), Stevie Wonder, Michael Jackson, Sheila E. and Cameo.
Not surprisingly, my friend and I used it as a launching point for discussing dance clubs in D.C. in the a previous lifetime (cause we were in Dupont Circle at the same time, although not together).
When he said Blackie's and I responded with Deja Vu, it was like I'd run into my past and then owner Susan jumped in for a discussion of post-club eating in DC and the absence of such in RVA.
How can people be expected to drink and dance for hours and not sop with fatty food immediately afterwards? It's what makes the next day doable, we all agreed.
Dessert was a blueberry cobbler served in an onion soup ramekin and covered in a sweet crust with vanilla ice cream floating on top.
This we shared (along with more wine) while savoring its contrast of warm fruit and cold ice cream. I am a sucker for blueberries and the South American ones in the stores right now are absolutely delicious.
We were barely done with that when a couple came in and asked if the bar was still open (it was; we were proof of that).
A little conversation and we discovered we had a mutual friend; next thing I knew, that friend was being summoned by text from Bamboo.
He showed up with two friends and the wild conversation and imbibing began. My friend and I stayed the course with wine while the newcomers had Mind Erasers (shudder) and added to the mix with their defense of and disdain for their generation's musical competency.
It's amazing how often I find myself defending the current generation's music to the current generation, so many of whom seem fixated on their parents' music. Very odd.
I had to listen to them make a case for both Taylor Swift and Lady Gaga (double shudder), while they also sang the praises of Led Zeppelin and Dave Matthews Band.
I tried not to judge, but it wasn't easy. Kings of Leon seems to be the band that everyone can agree on, for whatever that's worth.
Eventually, I realized that I'd stayed so long that I'd missed the show I'd intended to see. My acquaintance, now a friend after sharing the details of our personal lives, bade me good night. I finished up my music discussion with the newcomers before deciding to make my exit as well.
Is there a better way to end an evening than after a satisfying meal, much good wine and interesting conversation?
Let's not state the obvious.
Thursday, December 9, 2010
Bubbles and Cheek
'Tis the season for drinking bubbles, so I was more than happy to accept when friends invited me to join them for the champagne tasting at Barrel Thief tonight. Ten sparklers, four friends and one common goal: drinking with strangers.
Just kidding. I enjoy BT's tastings for the opportunity to taste everything from $16 bottles (the German Gilabert Cava Brut Rosat and as dry as it was fruit-forward; I do so love my pinks)) to $85 bottles (Prevost "La Closerie," one of the most coveted of rose champagnes) and all kinds of bubbles in between.
For all the variations we tasted, it was Roger Coulon Brut that was poured with the comment, "If you look up champagne in the dictionary, this is what it would taste like." Fine bubbles, sweet fruit, long finish, complete satisfaction.
And because champagne tastings require high drama, we were treated to seeing a bottle sabered before being poured into our glasses. The French say, "Champagne! In victory one deserves it; in defeat, one needs it." I say when offered sabered wine, drink up whether you have cause to or not (don't quote me on that).
Once we'd reached the point where no bubbles were left behind, it was time to choose a dining destination, with the goal of staying in the neighborhood. We stopped by The Grill at Patterson and Libbie, but, as one friend noted, "There are kids in there. No thanks." So we headed up the street to Coast instead.
It's been years since I'd been in Coast, but I knew the bartender from other places (and her iPod of mostly Cuban music was excellent) and there were four seats at the bar (once we asked an agreeable couple to move over a stool). So there we were, looking at menus with not a piece of cow or pig on them.
There was chicken, but everything else was coastally-sourced, just as you'd expect: rockfish, grouper, mahi mahi, crab, shrimp, oysters, mussels, scallops. The red meat lover among us may have been a tad disappointed, but the rest of us went fish and didn't look back.
I began with the baby iceberg wedge, typical in that it had creamy bleu cheese and bacon, but unique in that it came with three large expertly battered and freshly fried Vidalia onion rings. Onion rings like the kind that originally made people choose onion rings over fries.
The chorus of regret from the two among us who had not gotten this salad was loud and clear, and completely justified. One friend suggested to the owner that they be added to the menu as a stand-alone dish (Coast! Now with onion rings!).
My dinner was crispy grouper cheeks with pineapple-jicama slaw and red chili mayonnaise. The generous serving of cheeks highlighted how sweet and flavorful this part of the fish is and the chili mayo took it over the top with the contrast of the heat with the tender meat. It was unanimous; the cheeks were exceptional (again, two of us got them and two missed out).
Conversation with this group is irreverent (flavored K-Y jelly), non-sequential ("Can I just finish telling phase two?"), in some cases for me, irrelevant ("There's this TV show...") and inevitably loud. Wine god Bob Talcott came in to have a drink and the poor man was sucked unwittingly into the vortex of our conversation.
After a dessert of chocolate cake with caramelized sauce and blueberries, we went to the nearby home of one of our group for a nightcap. A fire was immediately lit and soon roaring in the fireplace, wine was opened with much difficulty (damn screw top) and we all got settled in.
When you're going to discuss prerequisites for marriage and weekend trysts in NYC, you want to set the right mood. Me, I just kept my mouth shut and took mental notes.
Just kidding. I enjoy BT's tastings for the opportunity to taste everything from $16 bottles (the German Gilabert Cava Brut Rosat and as dry as it was fruit-forward; I do so love my pinks)) to $85 bottles (Prevost "La Closerie," one of the most coveted of rose champagnes) and all kinds of bubbles in between.
For all the variations we tasted, it was Roger Coulon Brut that was poured with the comment, "If you look up champagne in the dictionary, this is what it would taste like." Fine bubbles, sweet fruit, long finish, complete satisfaction.
And because champagne tastings require high drama, we were treated to seeing a bottle sabered before being poured into our glasses. The French say, "Champagne! In victory one deserves it; in defeat, one needs it." I say when offered sabered wine, drink up whether you have cause to or not (don't quote me on that).
Once we'd reached the point where no bubbles were left behind, it was time to choose a dining destination, with the goal of staying in the neighborhood. We stopped by The Grill at Patterson and Libbie, but, as one friend noted, "There are kids in there. No thanks." So we headed up the street to Coast instead.
It's been years since I'd been in Coast, but I knew the bartender from other places (and her iPod of mostly Cuban music was excellent) and there were four seats at the bar (once we asked an agreeable couple to move over a stool). So there we were, looking at menus with not a piece of cow or pig on them.
There was chicken, but everything else was coastally-sourced, just as you'd expect: rockfish, grouper, mahi mahi, crab, shrimp, oysters, mussels, scallops. The red meat lover among us may have been a tad disappointed, but the rest of us went fish and didn't look back.
I began with the baby iceberg wedge, typical in that it had creamy bleu cheese and bacon, but unique in that it came with three large expertly battered and freshly fried Vidalia onion rings. Onion rings like the kind that originally made people choose onion rings over fries.
The chorus of regret from the two among us who had not gotten this salad was loud and clear, and completely justified. One friend suggested to the owner that they be added to the menu as a stand-alone dish (Coast! Now with onion rings!).
My dinner was crispy grouper cheeks with pineapple-jicama slaw and red chili mayonnaise. The generous serving of cheeks highlighted how sweet and flavorful this part of the fish is and the chili mayo took it over the top with the contrast of the heat with the tender meat. It was unanimous; the cheeks were exceptional (again, two of us got them and two missed out).
Conversation with this group is irreverent (flavored K-Y jelly), non-sequential ("Can I just finish telling phase two?"), in some cases for me, irrelevant ("There's this TV show...") and inevitably loud. Wine god Bob Talcott came in to have a drink and the poor man was sucked unwittingly into the vortex of our conversation.
After a dessert of chocolate cake with caramelized sauce and blueberries, we went to the nearby home of one of our group for a nightcap. A fire was immediately lit and soon roaring in the fireplace, wine was opened with much difficulty (damn screw top) and we all got settled in.
When you're going to discuss prerequisites for marriage and weekend trysts in NYC, you want to set the right mood. Me, I just kept my mouth shut and took mental notes.
Thursday, November 18, 2010
Anti-Nouveau Beaujolais Thursday
Here's one more way the French have it over us. We make a holiday of the fourth Thursday to overeat and watch football. They make a holiday of the third Thursday and drink new wine. Can you say "way more fun"?
Today's event at Barrel Thief was a two-fer: the wine shop was doing a 2010 Beaujolais Cru tasting and the guys at SausageCraft were there doing an anti-Nouveau Beaujolais tasting. How great was it having gamay and pig competing for my attention? Luckily I had plenty for both.
The purpose of the tasting was to experience something other than the usual supermarket swill which has become synonymous with Beaujolais Nouveau. To that end, they were sampling Beaujolais Nouveaus from each of the ten Crus of the region.
The crowd was comprised of lots of wine geeks, one from a wine shop in Williamsburg even, and wine-lovers like yours truly. Flying the company colors and sipping away were the Boathouse, Ellwood Thompson and Secco.
The couple next to me provided a lot of entertainment value, mostly him and his corny jokes, so I had company from the start. My friend was late arriving, so I tasted the first five wines while waiting for him (only because the manager told me to start without him and I always do what I'm told).
Finally he arrived and we could taste together. To allow him time to catch up on his tasting, I strolled over to the SausageCraft table where Brad was cooking up pork belly sausage made with Beaujolais and made just today. New wine, new sausage, it was a relationship for the ages.
The sausage was full-flavored with just a trace of herbs and wine. Cooked up hot and smelling so good it made it tough to focus on the wine at times, it was the clear star of the evening. No one could agree on which wine was best, but everyone was raving about the incredible sausage.
And, not that I know anything about wine (other than I like to drink it), but my votes for best go to the Domaine Cheveau 2008 Saint Amour (from the smallest and most rare of the ten Cru villages) and the Jean-Paul Thevenet 2009 Morgon, a wine so to my taste that I took one sip and said to my friend, "Taste this now."
As we were walking out, I picked up my pace because I was running behind to meet friends. "Triple-booked tonight?" he asked. "Just double," I told him. But still late. What if my date thought I stood them up? I wouldn't be able to live with myself.
Stop #2 was the Belvidere to meet one of my very favorite couples for a catch-up session. Unbelievably, we hadn't seen each other since Folk Fest because of their crazy work schedules. Imagine, people who put work ahead of play; I like them anyway.
I ordered the house-smoked salmon, always perfectly executed at the Belvidere and, because I knew I couldn't top the Morgon, a Don Julio for sipping. Now we could talk.
This is a couple who eats out as much as I do, so we ran through a comparative chat about places we'd all been since our last rendezvous. Even when we don't eat together, we seem to share the same opinion of how a restaurant is doing. We talked about their plans to spirit me to the West End soon (and not against my will it should be noted).
They too asked me about my big news and I shared how that was going. They're polite enough that they didn't make any snide remarks about my slow-moving progress like some friends I could mention (you know who you are).
We ended with a discussion of how so many people they know at work go through the motions of Thanksgiving only because they feel it's expected of them, not because they enjoy any of it.
See, that's my point exactly. Wouldn't it be whole lot easier to get behind a wine drinking Thursday holiday and avoid all that dysfunctional family holiday stuff entirely?
My only problem would be giving up the stuffing, but only because it has sausage in it.
When it comes right down to it, it's always about the sausage, isn't it?
Rhetorical question, mind you.
Today's event at Barrel Thief was a two-fer: the wine shop was doing a 2010 Beaujolais Cru tasting and the guys at SausageCraft were there doing an anti-Nouveau Beaujolais tasting. How great was it having gamay and pig competing for my attention? Luckily I had plenty for both.
The purpose of the tasting was to experience something other than the usual supermarket swill which has become synonymous with Beaujolais Nouveau. To that end, they were sampling Beaujolais Nouveaus from each of the ten Crus of the region.
The crowd was comprised of lots of wine geeks, one from a wine shop in Williamsburg even, and wine-lovers like yours truly. Flying the company colors and sipping away were the Boathouse, Ellwood Thompson and Secco.
The couple next to me provided a lot of entertainment value, mostly him and his corny jokes, so I had company from the start. My friend was late arriving, so I tasted the first five wines while waiting for him (only because the manager told me to start without him and I always do what I'm told).
Finally he arrived and we could taste together. To allow him time to catch up on his tasting, I strolled over to the SausageCraft table where Brad was cooking up pork belly sausage made with Beaujolais and made just today. New wine, new sausage, it was a relationship for the ages.
The sausage was full-flavored with just a trace of herbs and wine. Cooked up hot and smelling so good it made it tough to focus on the wine at times, it was the clear star of the evening. No one could agree on which wine was best, but everyone was raving about the incredible sausage.
And, not that I know anything about wine (other than I like to drink it), but my votes for best go to the Domaine Cheveau 2008 Saint Amour (from the smallest and most rare of the ten Cru villages) and the Jean-Paul Thevenet 2009 Morgon, a wine so to my taste that I took one sip and said to my friend, "Taste this now."
As we were walking out, I picked up my pace because I was running behind to meet friends. "Triple-booked tonight?" he asked. "Just double," I told him. But still late. What if my date thought I stood them up? I wouldn't be able to live with myself.
Stop #2 was the Belvidere to meet one of my very favorite couples for a catch-up session. Unbelievably, we hadn't seen each other since Folk Fest because of their crazy work schedules. Imagine, people who put work ahead of play; I like them anyway.
I ordered the house-smoked salmon, always perfectly executed at the Belvidere and, because I knew I couldn't top the Morgon, a Don Julio for sipping. Now we could talk.
This is a couple who eats out as much as I do, so we ran through a comparative chat about places we'd all been since our last rendezvous. Even when we don't eat together, we seem to share the same opinion of how a restaurant is doing. We talked about their plans to spirit me to the West End soon (and not against my will it should be noted).
They too asked me about my big news and I shared how that was going. They're polite enough that they didn't make any snide remarks about my slow-moving progress like some friends I could mention (you know who you are).
We ended with a discussion of how so many people they know at work go through the motions of Thanksgiving only because they feel it's expected of them, not because they enjoy any of it.
See, that's my point exactly. Wouldn't it be whole lot easier to get behind a wine drinking Thursday holiday and avoid all that dysfunctional family holiday stuff entirely?
My only problem would be giving up the stuffing, but only because it has sausage in it.
When it comes right down to it, it's always about the sausage, isn't it?
Rhetorical question, mind you.
Sunday, October 24, 2010
Walking in the Dark
It's an excellent night musically when I can start with one kind of music at 6:30 and end somewhere else with a completely different kind at 12:30.
It was the recent Folk Fest that landed me at Barrel Thief tonight for the Jason Jenkins Trio. At that mind-blowing Zakir Hussain show, I had sat next to a local drummer who had arrived as ridiculously early for the show as I had, so we'd had plenty of time to talk music, shows and audiences.
He had mentioned then that he was playing a show at Barrel Thief tonight and suggested I come by for some jazz to start my evening. I'll admit I was a little surprised when I arrived around 6:35 to find that most tables were taken and the remaining reserved. Luckily, there was a corner banquette with a low table in front of it with a great view of the band and I was ushered to it.
Taking Virginia Wine month to heart, I chose the Pollak Vineyards Meritage (a stellar blend of Cab Franc, Merlot and Petite Verdot) for my drinking pleasure throughout the evening and started with the olive tapenade, chevre and cucumber bruschetta.
Later, at my server's suggestion, I had the Chef's grilled cheese on rosemary foccacia, an interesting take on the standard, with multiple cheeses and sun-dried tomato spread. I do wish Barrel Thief had a wider menu.
My drumming friend and his cohorts were playing a variety of jazz standards to the obvious delight of the attentive audience, some of whom commented to the band between songs like old friends, or at least neighbors and frequent attendees.
During the break my drummer friend came over to get reacquainted and talk about what else we'd each seen at the Folk Fest after the tabla tour de force. He'd gotten to see Salsa Duro, the one group I'd really wanted to see and didn't, so he got to rub that in, telling me how amazing they were and why.
I left midway through the second set because I wanted to make the Wood & Steel acoustic show at Gallery 5 and I had to make a quick stop at home to exchange cute wine bistro platform shoes for standing-on-cement-for-hours shoes (boots, actually) before walking over; it was a most necessary transition.
I passed a utility repairman doggedly trying to restore power to the unlit street lights and asked him if there would be light by the time I walked home from the show; he assured me that there would be. Always good to hear.
When I arrived, Nick Woods was playing an earnest set, followed by Shannon Cleary, who sang his song about seeing Matt and Kim at the bike lot show and then seeing them Thursday night when the floor felt close to collapsing. Later we talked about the sinking feeling we shared that night about the strength of the Canal Club's flooring versus the enthusiasm of everyone's dancing.
Ophelia was next, but performing as a duo rather than a quartet. The crowd was too noisy as far as my friend and I were concerned, talking and laughing loudly over the heartfelt vocals of David and Jonathan.
My friend, who teaches at VCU, later told me that he could relate to being in front of a room full of people, many of whom were paying no attention to you. Still, it seemed a shame to drown out such beautiful harmonies.
Prabir and the Goldrush were next, doing their usual rock-your-socks-off set. When Prabir went to dedicate a song to a girl, violinist Treesa mentioned that her parents were in the audience, so the song instead went to them. Irreverently, it was followed by a song about smoking weed; no dedication necessary.
The final band was the trio Homemade Knives and they set up on the floor in front of the stage and the remaining members of the audience crowded around them, some sitting on the cold floor (not this girl) and others standing around.
Their haunting set ended with a much-slowed-down cover of Springsteen's Dancing in the Dark, because, according to lead singer Will, "covers are fun." It was an ironic comment considering that the somber and slow version they did of the up-tempo rock standard took the song to a whole new meaningful level and fun had nothing to do with it.
My friend offered to drive me home in case the street lights were still out, but I told him I was willing to go it alone. As I told him, what was going to happen, that I'd die on the streets of J-Ward on a Saturday night under a full moon?
"Worse things could happen," he grinned as he twirled his moustache, knowing I'd be just fine.
Do I have the option of being otherwise?
It was the recent Folk Fest that landed me at Barrel Thief tonight for the Jason Jenkins Trio. At that mind-blowing Zakir Hussain show, I had sat next to a local drummer who had arrived as ridiculously early for the show as I had, so we'd had plenty of time to talk music, shows and audiences.
He had mentioned then that he was playing a show at Barrel Thief tonight and suggested I come by for some jazz to start my evening. I'll admit I was a little surprised when I arrived around 6:35 to find that most tables were taken and the remaining reserved. Luckily, there was a corner banquette with a low table in front of it with a great view of the band and I was ushered to it.
Taking Virginia Wine month to heart, I chose the Pollak Vineyards Meritage (a stellar blend of Cab Franc, Merlot and Petite Verdot) for my drinking pleasure throughout the evening and started with the olive tapenade, chevre and cucumber bruschetta.
Later, at my server's suggestion, I had the Chef's grilled cheese on rosemary foccacia, an interesting take on the standard, with multiple cheeses and sun-dried tomato spread. I do wish Barrel Thief had a wider menu.
My drumming friend and his cohorts were playing a variety of jazz standards to the obvious delight of the attentive audience, some of whom commented to the band between songs like old friends, or at least neighbors and frequent attendees.
During the break my drummer friend came over to get reacquainted and talk about what else we'd each seen at the Folk Fest after the tabla tour de force. He'd gotten to see Salsa Duro, the one group I'd really wanted to see and didn't, so he got to rub that in, telling me how amazing they were and why.
I left midway through the second set because I wanted to make the Wood & Steel acoustic show at Gallery 5 and I had to make a quick stop at home to exchange cute wine bistro platform shoes for standing-on-cement-for-hours shoes (boots, actually) before walking over; it was a most necessary transition.
I passed a utility repairman doggedly trying to restore power to the unlit street lights and asked him if there would be light by the time I walked home from the show; he assured me that there would be. Always good to hear.
When I arrived, Nick Woods was playing an earnest set, followed by Shannon Cleary, who sang his song about seeing Matt and Kim at the bike lot show and then seeing them Thursday night when the floor felt close to collapsing. Later we talked about the sinking feeling we shared that night about the strength of the Canal Club's flooring versus the enthusiasm of everyone's dancing.
Ophelia was next, but performing as a duo rather than a quartet. The crowd was too noisy as far as my friend and I were concerned, talking and laughing loudly over the heartfelt vocals of David and Jonathan.
My friend, who teaches at VCU, later told me that he could relate to being in front of a room full of people, many of whom were paying no attention to you. Still, it seemed a shame to drown out such beautiful harmonies.
Prabir and the Goldrush were next, doing their usual rock-your-socks-off set. When Prabir went to dedicate a song to a girl, violinist Treesa mentioned that her parents were in the audience, so the song instead went to them. Irreverently, it was followed by a song about smoking weed; no dedication necessary.
The final band was the trio Homemade Knives and they set up on the floor in front of the stage and the remaining members of the audience crowded around them, some sitting on the cold floor (not this girl) and others standing around.
Their haunting set ended with a much-slowed-down cover of Springsteen's Dancing in the Dark, because, according to lead singer Will, "covers are fun." It was an ironic comment considering that the somber and slow version they did of the up-tempo rock standard took the song to a whole new meaningful level and fun had nothing to do with it.
My friend offered to drive me home in case the street lights were still out, but I told him I was willing to go it alone. As I told him, what was going to happen, that I'd die on the streets of J-Ward on a Saturday night under a full moon?
"Worse things could happen," he grinned as he twirled his moustache, knowing I'd be just fine.
Do I have the option of being otherwise?
Sunday, November 29, 2009
Rowland Fine Dining for Live Music Tonight
One of my friends is a multi-instrumentalist, although I'd only heard a recording and never seen him play live.
Tonight he was going to play Rowland's, so the plan was to start somewhere else and end our night there.
Barrel Thief was suggested because they were having live jazz, so the three of us met there for a couple of bottles of Domaine Vissoux Beaujolais Primeur and some snackage.
Two of us had soup (mine was roasted red pepper and crab, his was butternut squash) before we shared the antipasto platter.
I followed with some stinky cheese (the Truffle Tremor) and she had an Italian panini.
I finished with the chocolate truffle sampler.
There were several dates going on around us it seemed, including a woman who both my friends knew, but weren't especially fond of.
It is most assuredly a small town when it comes to running into your past here, isn't it?
Leaving the far reaches of town, for me at least, we headed into the Fan.
As I was approaching Rowland from Shields, I was surprised to hear a great deal of laughter and conversation from within.
There was already a lively crowd in the place, but we managed to grab three bar stools near the front for the best view.
My friends got something to drink and I ordered dessert. Yes, again.
This time it was the chocolate creme brulee and although it wasn't quite as dark as Black Sheep's version, it was quite good.
When the peer pressure became too great, I ordered a glass of Temperanillo.
The problem was more fullness than lack of desire for wine, but then, two desserts will do that to you.
My talented friend and the other two musicians played a variety of covers, a lot of Beatles, some Bob Marley and such.
It was interesting to see them follow each other as they had had limited practice time together, but they made it work.
They played for close to two hours and seemed to be enjoying every minute of it.
I have to say I love what a bowed instrument adds to a rock song... and what six extra strings add to a guitar.
I asked one of the musicians, who was from Asheville, N.C. about his music preferences and he said it was so rare to be engaged in a music conversation by a stranger.
Then he lamented the absence of much besides dance bands and jam bands in Asheville.
The jam band thing I can see from what I know of the town, but not so much the dance thing.
We talked about the evolution of new musicians discovering older material. He was a huge Doors fan, but born in the late 80s, which always cracks me up.
It's probably a good thing that there are people out there willing to listen to the music that I've already heard to death.
But I can always enjoy hearing a talented friend play music, no matter how far back they pull from.
Which is not to say that as soon as I got into my car afterwards, I didn't turn up the volume on The XX, because I did.
Hearing old music, even the truly great and classic stuff, just makes me appreciate the new stuff more.
And sometimes talking to strangers about music is the best way to hear about something new or interesting.
Or even just surprise somebody with my topic of choice; Personally, I love it when people do it to me.
Tonight he was going to play Rowland's, so the plan was to start somewhere else and end our night there.
Barrel Thief was suggested because they were having live jazz, so the three of us met there for a couple of bottles of Domaine Vissoux Beaujolais Primeur and some snackage.
Two of us had soup (mine was roasted red pepper and crab, his was butternut squash) before we shared the antipasto platter.
I followed with some stinky cheese (the Truffle Tremor) and she had an Italian panini.
I finished with the chocolate truffle sampler.
There were several dates going on around us it seemed, including a woman who both my friends knew, but weren't especially fond of.
It is most assuredly a small town when it comes to running into your past here, isn't it?
Leaving the far reaches of town, for me at least, we headed into the Fan.
As I was approaching Rowland from Shields, I was surprised to hear a great deal of laughter and conversation from within.
There was already a lively crowd in the place, but we managed to grab three bar stools near the front for the best view.
My friends got something to drink and I ordered dessert. Yes, again.
This time it was the chocolate creme brulee and although it wasn't quite as dark as Black Sheep's version, it was quite good.
When the peer pressure became too great, I ordered a glass of Temperanillo.
The problem was more fullness than lack of desire for wine, but then, two desserts will do that to you.
My talented friend and the other two musicians played a variety of covers, a lot of Beatles, some Bob Marley and such.
It was interesting to see them follow each other as they had had limited practice time together, but they made it work.
They played for close to two hours and seemed to be enjoying every minute of it.
I have to say I love what a bowed instrument adds to a rock song... and what six extra strings add to a guitar.
I asked one of the musicians, who was from Asheville, N.C. about his music preferences and he said it was so rare to be engaged in a music conversation by a stranger.
Then he lamented the absence of much besides dance bands and jam bands in Asheville.
The jam band thing I can see from what I know of the town, but not so much the dance thing.
We talked about the evolution of new musicians discovering older material. He was a huge Doors fan, but born in the late 80s, which always cracks me up.
It's probably a good thing that there are people out there willing to listen to the music that I've already heard to death.
But I can always enjoy hearing a talented friend play music, no matter how far back they pull from.
Which is not to say that as soon as I got into my car afterwards, I didn't turn up the volume on The XX, because I did.
Hearing old music, even the truly great and classic stuff, just makes me appreciate the new stuff more.
And sometimes talking to strangers about music is the best way to hear about something new or interesting.
Or even just surprise somebody with my topic of choice; Personally, I love it when people do it to me.
Friday, November 20, 2009
Barrel Thief for Beaujolais Nouveau
It being the third Thursday of November and all, Theater Goddess and I met up at the Barrel Thief at Patterson and Libbie to drink some just-released young, fruity wine, like far too many other people probably did today.
It was as good an excuse as any to celebrate the harvest, in this case, that of Domaine Vissoux Beaujolais Primeur.
No fancy yeasts or added sugar, this Beaujolais Nouveau was clean and ripe tasting and would undoubtedly be a nice addition to the Thanksgiving meal. But neither of us is in charge of bringing the wine to Turkey day, so the sipping was purely for our own enjoyment.
Meanwhile, we asked the kitchen for a variety of dishes that would work well together and would complement our Green and Red Zinfandel "Chiles Mill Vineyard" Estate and were rewarded with an array of smoked salmon, cheeses, olives and a balsamic reduction dipping oil with bread.
Assorted chocolate truffles had to follow.
Conversation on the shelf life of unhappiness and the possibilities of happy endings ensued, while the bottle of wine was emptied.
So now that the Beaujolais Nouveau has been released, we can welcome the coming of colder weather and the upcoming holidays.
In theory anyway, since, while walking the beagle upon my arrival home just now, the temperature in J-Ward was a balmy 65 degrees.
Not that I'm complaining.
I'm just saying, I, for one, will be sleeping with my bedroom windows open tonight.
It was as good an excuse as any to celebrate the harvest, in this case, that of Domaine Vissoux Beaujolais Primeur.
No fancy yeasts or added sugar, this Beaujolais Nouveau was clean and ripe tasting and would undoubtedly be a nice addition to the Thanksgiving meal. But neither of us is in charge of bringing the wine to Turkey day, so the sipping was purely for our own enjoyment.
Meanwhile, we asked the kitchen for a variety of dishes that would work well together and would complement our Green and Red Zinfandel "Chiles Mill Vineyard" Estate and were rewarded with an array of smoked salmon, cheeses, olives and a balsamic reduction dipping oil with bread.
Assorted chocolate truffles had to follow.
Conversation on the shelf life of unhappiness and the possibilities of happy endings ensued, while the bottle of wine was emptied.
So now that the Beaujolais Nouveau has been released, we can welcome the coming of colder weather and the upcoming holidays.
In theory anyway, since, while walking the beagle upon my arrival home just now, the temperature in J-Ward was a balmy 65 degrees.
Not that I'm complaining.
I'm just saying, I, for one, will be sleeping with my bedroom windows open tonight.
Saturday, June 13, 2009
Leaving My Comfort Zone (the city)
Holmes convinced me to try the new Barrel Thief Wine Shop and Cafe on Patterson last night (he'd already been there) and while I prefer not to venture further west than Thompson Street, it was better than I expected. We shared a couple of bottles of 2007 Crivelli Barbera D'Asti and at only $16 a bottle, I was sold on the retail pricing aspect of the place. The wine had hints of cherry with strong tannins and went down smoothly.
We sampled the cheese plate (3 selections, which change daily, in good-sized wedges with bread and crackers) and the crab quesadillas and something they called a brownie, but in reality was a flourless chocolate chunk of heaven (and at only 5 bucks, a real bargain price for dessert these days). There was a 3-piece jazz combo playing (sax, upright bass and drums) from 7 to 9 or so and they added a nice vibe to the evening.
Will I go back? Location aside, well-priced wine is always a draw, so only time will tell.
We sampled the cheese plate (3 selections, which change daily, in good-sized wedges with bread and crackers) and the crab quesadillas and something they called a brownie, but in reality was a flourless chocolate chunk of heaven (and at only 5 bucks, a real bargain price for dessert these days). There was a 3-piece jazz combo playing (sax, upright bass and drums) from 7 to 9 or so and they added a nice vibe to the evening.
Will I go back? Location aside, well-priced wine is always a draw, so only time will tell.
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