Stepping Out

It was a low-key night to stay in the neighborhood and see old friends.

Deciding to start at Bistro 27 because I hadn't yet heard Chef Carlos' tales of his recent trip to Paris, I was regaled with details about a dish of pig stomach wrapped in prosciutto and deep-fried.

Be still, my heart.

While he told me of drinking endless Cahors while there (well, he is Brazilian so Malbec's practically in his blood), I went with a Pinot Noir.

I was surprised (although apparently not as surprised as the Parisians) to hear that they'd had snow while he was there.

While hearing his recounting of exquisite sculpture, the tiniest of French bistros and a side trip to Dusseldorf, my companion and I moved on to eating.

There was halibut bobo, a take-off on his mother's recipe for shrimp bobo, delivering succulent, perfectly-cooked halibut in the distinctive sauce of yucca root puree, coconut milk and palm oil, a dish with a decided African influence.

I reveled in the oil and garlic-cooked broccolini, along with bacon-wrapped scallops and lentils (easily my favorite lentils in town) and a taste or two of pappardelle bolognese ("Close your eyes and pretend you're in Italy," the fork's owner instructed me).

Finishing with a one-two punch of panna cotta and chocolate mousse, all of a sudden it was show time.

And not only a show for music's sake, but a benefit for Sub Rosa Bakery, so a very worthy cause.

Fortunately, the show was only two blocks away at Gallery 5, where we walked in to find Patrick Bates playing his second song.

I'd seen the quintet not long ago at the Listening Room and really gotten into their sound, but tonight there were so many talkers in the room that I was glad I already knew what they sounded like.

And I wasn't the only one, since two other people also commented to me that it was a shame people didn't shut up so they could hear the nuances of the music.

Later even drummer Kevin said he was reluctant to use the brushes he'd used last time for fear they wouldn't be heard.

One thing I like about this band (besides Patrick's songs, the bass player's sense of humor and Kevin's drumming), is that the other two people have enough talent between them to play accordion, keyboards, cello and sax.

Now that's versatility.

I ran into a few friends (two drummers, a man-about-town, several former Mermaid Skeletons and a gallerist wearing the grooviest '70s tunic ever) between sets and then the sextet the Clair Morgans took the stage.

I'd listened online to get a feel for their sound and from the first song heard the same energetic indie music live that the MP3s had promised.

Patrick Bates was also in this band playing guitar, bongos and something that looked like a xylophone.

We got a dose of humor when a song began before Clair stopped it, looking sheepish.

"The show was going great until Clair put his capo on the wrong fret," Clair deadpanned, making the capo correction and finishing the song as it was meant to sound.

Damn fine.

One of my favorite moments came when one of the guitarists pulled out a drum as Patrick pulled out his bongos, meaning along with drummer Michael, fully half the band was beating on something.

Since a drummer friend had only a few minutes earlier been telling me about his idea for an all-drum music project, I couldn't resist nudging him and getting a big grin in return.

Headlining was Hens, a quintet I'd recently seen for the first time, and one full of big guitar sounds and big talent.

After a few songs, guitarist/singer Josh Hryciak said they'd been jamming on a new song and would go ahead and play it now.

But before that began, he moved center stage and gave us a pelvic wiggle for the ages before returning to play the song.

The man is a showman par excellence.

"That's a baby song," guitarist/singer David Shultz made sure we knew when the song wound down unceremoniously.

Guitarist/singer Marcus Shrock took over vocals for one song, indirectly reminding the crowd what a super-group these guys are with so much talent from time spent in former bands.

The last song was one big extended soundscape, with all of them looking like they were having a blast making music together.

And what could be better than friends (and employees - Josh worked at Sub Rosa) and fans getting together to make and hear music to support the worthiest of causes, a local business?

Knowing that Sub Roa is one step closer to re-opening, that's what.

Like What I Love

The message was clear.

Meet me tonight for dinner...TONIGHT...I say.

You'd think it had been a while since we'd been out together.

Oh, wait. It had.

Between a perpetually busy job, a move and massive house redecoration, he'd had no time to catch up with a friend since I don't know when.

All of a sudden, we were on for tonight.

Once we got together, his conversation focused on how a favorite restaurant had disappointed him the last three or four times he'd gone.

In fact, his beloved had stated for the record that they'd made their last visit there.

So naturally, the first place he suggests is that restaurant.

Fortunately, it's closed so we soldier on to Julep because, as he says, "I haven't been there in 100 years."

And I hadn't been there since Bobby's last night as mixologist there, back in 2011.

We chose the bar to eat, in the process meeting a visiting Chicagoan getting his southern chowhound on.

Despite it being a Monday night, Julep had a steady stream of people the whole time we were there, making for a lively vibe.

Friend chose a Louis Jadot Pouilly-Fuisse because he only likes white wine and doesn't care for new world varietals.

It was a lovely choice, medium bodied and elegant, and set the tone for the first course.

I began with a crabcake appetizer, not on the menu, but I figured if you can make a crabcake entree, making an appetizer couldn't be that hard, while my companion got the crispy fried oysters.

Both dishes showed a deftness with seafood that no doubt serves them well with visitors from places liked Chicago.

We shared a salad of local baby red romaine lettuce with Parmesan curls, grilled garlic butter croutons, white anchovy and a Creole-Cesar dressing.

Truth be told, the curls were flat, but the flavor was good.

Our conversation was all over the place because it had been so long since we'd been out together.

The service at Julep is always so professional, if a tad old school with only male servers, but we had to laugh when the hostess came behind the bar.

As she was refilling our water glasses, my friend spoke to her and when she didn't hear, she came back with, "HUH?"

It was the kind of loud, honking "huh?" that has grated on the nerves of parents, teachers and anyone who'd ever heard it come out of the mouth of a clueless youth.

So we'll say the staid atmosphere was tempered by the honking of the hostess.

My friend is a beef lover so the grilled dry-aged New York strip called to him and with good reason.

The perfectly cooked piece of meat (one of his complaints at the place that had been disappointing him so much lately) came with horseradish mashed potatoes, grilled rapini, ham hock demi glace and whole grain mustard butter.

He was so impressed that he couldn't wait to bring his long-suffering mate in for that steak.

I went with the cassoulet of Sausagecraft lamb sausage, duck confit, pork belly, white beans and vegetables with an herb bread crumb topping.

It arrived in a ceramic bowl holding enough heat to warm the room, so I had to be patient before going in.

But it was worth it for the succulent bits of lamb, duck and pig, although I thought the crumb layer a bit dry.

In my book, a good bread crumb topping has as much butter as bread, but not everyone feels that way.

Meanwhile, my friend was telling me that he and his main squeeze are trying to plan a vacation where neither of them checks messages for a week.

Wow, I remember when people planned vacations where their goal was just to relax and have a good time.

Clearly, we are now setting the bar much lower.

On the other hand, I was just happy to hear that the two workaholics were attempting to get away.

It was during our discussion of all the club-hopping we'd both done in Washington in our twenties that our server inquired about dessert.

Nothing on the menu grabbed me, but my companion insisted that we needed the Bananas Foster served tableside for two.

Amazed that I'd never had Bananas Foster, he told me it had been all the rage back in the '70s.

I was game, so next thing we knew, our server brought over his mobile kitchen and was sauteing bananas in butter and brown sugar, adding spiced rum and pouring the flaming mixture over pound cake and vanilla ice cream.

All I could think of was how key it would have been to keep all that flaming away from the polyester clothing of the '70s.

Or were there tragic Bananas Foster incidents back in the day?

And while my favorite desserts are always of the chocolate variety, the bananas Foster was a fine, sweet finish to our meal.

We stayed a while, sipping more wine and talking about recent parties and new restaurants before I deposited him back and went on with my night.

Making a bee-line to the Camel for an evening of new bands, I arrived as Sea of Storms was starting their set.

I knew nothing at all about the band beforehand, but I was stopped in my tracks when I saw them.

The lead singer/guitarist was Brandon Peck.

I bought one of Brandon's prints back in 2008 before I ever knew him. It's the largest piece I own and still hangs front and center in my living room.

A couple of years later, I met him when he bartended at Ipanema and then served at The Roosevelt.

I've had many conversations with Brandon, but I'd never seen him in his music guise.

I was riveted.

You think you know someone and all of a sudden, he's part of a post-punk/hardcore trio, spitting out lyrics three feet in front of my face and it's so awesome I can't move.

Thanks, Sea of Storms, for the welcome into the night's activities.

During the break, I found lots of people I knew and the general buzz was how excited everyone was that the Camel is hosting more free shows lately.

For some of us, it was two in a row after Sunday night's Scolaro show.

I think we can all agree that more free shows allow the attendees to spend more on the bands' merch as well as adult beverages.

Headlining tonight was Hens, the new project by Josh Hryciak (formerly of Mermaid Skeletons) and David Shultz (...and the Skyline).

With no idea what to expect from them, I was thrilled when the foursome came out with guitars blazing like Band of Horses.

Josh is a stellar songwriter and we were treated to song after song from a band playing out for the first time.

"This is an awesome turnout for a first show," Josh beamed.

"We 're lucky hens," David observed drolly.

But I'd already run into any number of friends who'd said they were there to see what Josh's new project was.

The fans of Mermaid Skeletons are legion in this town

But even better, the band was more than just Josh (I'm a big fan of David's, too) and with three people trading off lead vocals, I wouldn't be surprised to learn that others, like David, are doing songwriting, too.

Josh announced a couple of personal songs, including, "Like What I Love," a concept as necessary to me as it must have been to him to write the song.

Stylistically, the set varied with one song as smooth and mellow as an old R&B groove, while a particular favorite was keyboard-based with few vocals, an almost post-rock dreamscape, and others were full on guitar and drum rocking.

But apparently, that's just how Hens roll.

As my photographer friend observed later, "Dang that was a good show."

I'd go even further.

Dang, that was a good meal. Dang, that was two good bands I needed to hear.

And only TONIGHT...I say.

It's so easy to like what I love.