I can remember the exact moment when I first heard - or, rather, knowingly heard - an LCD Soundsystem tune. It was in late 2004 or very early 2005 - John Peel had just died, to date it - in Hi-Fi, a bar in the East Village in NYC, and a friend from home was visiting. I'd sort of lost touch with new music, and she could not believe I'd not heard of them; she put on Daft Punk Is Playing at My House for me.
I can't say I was an instant convert, but when Sound of Silver came out, it slowly but surely happened for me, and the first time I saw them live, that was it: I was in love. I did not think I'd love a band again in the way that I did as a teenager but LCD Soundsystem provided the soundtrack to my falling in love with New York, with developing strong and solid bonds with my friends here.
And now James Murphy et al. are retiring LCD. While I'm saddened by that, the real devastation came when I missed out on tickets to the last ever show at MSG but, fortunately, we scored tickets this week when they released more. We're going to be in the gods, barely able to see, but we need to be there; LCD has been a soundtrack to our time in NYC, it feels right to be there when the band signs off. Although we saw them last night at the pen-penultimate gig, it would not have been the same. While I can't quite believe we won't get to see LCD perform again, I think it's a good thing, it's time; the shows have got increasingly large with increasingly large numbers of idiots and people who don't seem to care about the old stuff. Go out on a high before you end up lacking respect for the people who behave like idiots at your shows, I say. Go out when people love you, when people will mourn you with genuine love and affection.
I will.
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
Abstemious (Part II)
Ye gods, the indulgences have just kept coming.
Saturday: our friend made an array of Italian starters (including a fabulous calamari and bean salad and some amazing mortadella mousse), then we had a ridiculous slow-cooked rabbit ragu and his homemade porchetta, followed by assorted desserts and including one of the best ice creams I've ever eaten, a pumpkin one that wasn't too heavy at all, or overly cinnamony (my pet peeve re pumpkin flavoured things) from this fabulous place very near to us.
Sunday: we made that tried and true friend of ours, this ridiculous cod dish which is utterly simple, wholesome and comforting with a truly remarkable depth of flavour.
Monday: I may have been converted to oysters, thanks to a trip to Desnuda. The ceviche was crisp, glorious to look at in its many colours, but the highlights were tea-smoked oysters, and a phenomenal basic oyster plate with ginger shallot, and increasingly smokey and spicy toppings. Yes, I am a convert. Despite them still being slightly like licking phlegm off a tortoise. Now to get myself to the John Dory's happy hour.
Tuesday: Tia Pol is one of my dearest friend's happiest places and I finally have been to share it with her. The food is, frankly, ridiculous, as is the wine list - we actually had two bottles of wine that I am serving at my wine club on Friday night. Auspicious - particularly as they were both excellent. The tapas are great - I don't know what they do to the chickpeas, but they are glorious, as is a squid dish in its own ink that makes you look like you've decided to become a Goth. Fabulous.
Time to sit indoors with some very plain pasta and think about all I've consumed, methinks.
Saturday: our friend made an array of Italian starters (including a fabulous calamari and bean salad and some amazing mortadella mousse), then we had a ridiculous slow-cooked rabbit ragu and his homemade porchetta, followed by assorted desserts and including one of the best ice creams I've ever eaten, a pumpkin one that wasn't too heavy at all, or overly cinnamony (my pet peeve re pumpkin flavoured things) from this fabulous place very near to us.
Sunday: we made that tried and true friend of ours, this ridiculous cod dish which is utterly simple, wholesome and comforting with a truly remarkable depth of flavour.
Monday: I may have been converted to oysters, thanks to a trip to Desnuda. The ceviche was crisp, glorious to look at in its many colours, but the highlights were tea-smoked oysters, and a phenomenal basic oyster plate with ginger shallot, and increasingly smokey and spicy toppings. Yes, I am a convert. Despite them still being slightly like licking phlegm off a tortoise. Now to get myself to the John Dory's happy hour.
Tuesday: Tia Pol is one of my dearest friend's happiest places and I finally have been to share it with her. The food is, frankly, ridiculous, as is the wine list - we actually had two bottles of wine that I am serving at my wine club on Friday night. Auspicious - particularly as they were both excellent. The tapas are great - I don't know what they do to the chickpeas, but they are glorious, as is a squid dish in its own ink that makes you look like you've decided to become a Goth. Fabulous.
Time to sit indoors with some very plain pasta and think about all I've consumed, methinks.
Saturday, March 19, 2011
Abstemious
So, after a week full of vegetables and roasting and fun, I've come to a very large amount of rather indulgent food in a very short space of time. But, honestly, it's been GLORIOUS. Glorious. Thursday night was spent with extraordinarily inventive small plates at Casa Mono, where my personal highlight was a virulently garlickly sopa de ajo, pungent and sweet, that served as the bed for a crispy and extremely tasty little fillet of fresh mackerel; the duck egg, fried and gooily spooling over the duck confit was perfect.
And then last night was even better, possibly. Dovetail is one of my favourite restaurants, and not just because one of my closest friends works there. But that does help. We sat at the bar and ate our way through so many good things, it's hard to single anything out, but the goat ravioli was wonderful and the soft boiled egg on a bed of bacon, oyster mushrooms, butternut squash was one of the best things I've eaten in a very, very long time. I also had a Slovenian white wine (liked it - very unusual) and tried a phenomenal red wine that I've not had before, a Bonarda.
And tonight, one of the best cooks I know is preparing a giant feast for us. It's a hard life.
Except I DO have to do some work for the next few hours and it's cancelled my day plans. So, you know, it's not all fun and games.
And then last night was even better, possibly. Dovetail is one of my favourite restaurants, and not just because one of my closest friends works there. But that does help. We sat at the bar and ate our way through so many good things, it's hard to single anything out, but the goat ravioli was wonderful and the soft boiled egg on a bed of bacon, oyster mushrooms, butternut squash was one of the best things I've eaten in a very, very long time. I also had a Slovenian white wine (liked it - very unusual) and tried a phenomenal red wine that I've not had before, a Bonarda.
And tonight, one of the best cooks I know is preparing a giant feast for us. It's a hard life.
Except I DO have to do some work for the next few hours and it's cancelled my day plans. So, you know, it's not all fun and games.
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
Fun With Vegetables
No, this is not a dodgy sexual predilection post. Instead, it's one reflecting genuine joy regarding the cooking and eating I've done this week. Usually when on a health kick I retreat to the same things: soup, maybe salad for lunch, or a baked potato, followed by supper of roasted veg, possibly with a veggie burger. The veg - mushrooms, onions, courgettes, aubergines, tomatoes, peppers and (v important) whole cloves of garlic in their skin, so that they get sweet and mushy and delicious - are always roasted with a little chile and oregano and white wine vinegar. This week has all been a variation on the latter, but with much more experimentation and fun results.
Monday, I had my traditional roasted veg, but with a LOT more garlic than usual and loads of crushed fennel seeds over the top. Tuesday, I stir-fried brussels sprouts, peppers, courgettes, shallots and garlic with a garlic & black bean sauce and water (to semi-steam the veg), and had that with a shedload of kimchi (seriously, when did my obsession with that start? dunno, but it's here for the foreseeable future). And Wednesday was possibly the most experimental (for me) - a first attempt at cooking okra, which I stir-fried with leeks for a while, then added black pepper, a couple of chopped tomatoes, let them simmer for a bit and then added a touch of curry powder, and then served that with the ubiquitous veggie burger and a sriracha spiked mayonnaise.* Plus a big batch of kale chips - I finished off some a friend had made for me, then on Wednesday attempted them myself. Not up to my friends' levels, yet, but they are damned good. So yes, while the vegan burgers have been the same boring protein, I like that boring protein, and the veg has more than made up for it.
Oh, and my local 24 hour, organic grocer's - where I have been purchasing all this veg - sells my favourite, favourite BCN beer - Estrella Damm. Fabulous.
* Note: the sauces, of course, were not homemade. I'm not made of time/madness/that thorough.
Monday, I had my traditional roasted veg, but with a LOT more garlic than usual and loads of crushed fennel seeds over the top. Tuesday, I stir-fried brussels sprouts, peppers, courgettes, shallots and garlic with a garlic & black bean sauce and water (to semi-steam the veg), and had that with a shedload of kimchi (seriously, when did my obsession with that start? dunno, but it's here for the foreseeable future). And Wednesday was possibly the most experimental (for me) - a first attempt at cooking okra, which I stir-fried with leeks for a while, then added black pepper, a couple of chopped tomatoes, let them simmer for a bit and then added a touch of curry powder, and then served that with the ubiquitous veggie burger and a sriracha spiked mayonnaise.* Plus a big batch of kale chips - I finished off some a friend had made for me, then on Wednesday attempted them myself. Not up to my friends' levels, yet, but they are damned good. So yes, while the vegan burgers have been the same boring protein, I like that boring protein, and the veg has more than made up for it.
Oh, and my local 24 hour, organic grocer's - where I have been purchasing all this veg - sells my favourite, favourite BCN beer - Estrella Damm. Fabulous.
* Note: the sauces, of course, were not homemade. I'm not made of time/madness/that thorough.
March Mehness
A frequent question during my month off drinking is "Why February?" January makes more sense to a lot of people - the excesses of December need to be shirked from one's body and I have quite a few friends who do choose January. But January is cold, bitter, and (most importantly) TOH's birthday, so I can't choose January. Plus, why go cold turkey? Foolish.
My usual blithe (and honest) answer is that February is the shortest month. Yes, I give myself a day off for VD so that TOH and I can enjoy a bottle or two of plonk. So, in fact, it's only 27 days. But that seems enough for me.
Some people suggest March, however, little preparing themselves for the horror that suggestion inspires. Frankly, March is already dreadful enough without prohibiting myself from a warming glass of bourbon, a comforting spicy red wine or something along those lines. I have grown to loathe March since moving to the US. At home it's nippy and windy and rainy, it's true, but it's somehow offset by the blossom and blooms and sense that the year really is progressing to warmer, nicer weather. By this time of year the magnolia tree on my road is in near to full bloom, Mum and I hopefully will have already had a trip out to see the bluebells, and there will be crocuses and daffodils everywhere, with the air often heavy with the smell of hyacinths.
Days like today solidify my loathing. It's extremely gloomy; the clocks having changed made no odds this morning with the murky light barely penetrating my windows, making it seem as if I were up at half five instead of closer to eight. It's just above freezing, and raining, although we're promised by the weather people that this will all clear up this afternoon and be positively warm starting tomorrow. But, not trusting March, I can't quite believe there won't still be some sting in the tail, some snow left to come. The mini gardens along the route to work are still scrubby and brown, there's hardly any foliage anywhere as of yet. There are daffodils poking their green shoots out in the garden but they won't arrive fully for another couple of weeks yet.
Many people complain about the "summer" in Britain, whether from there or overseas, but for me, it's a very close run thing as to whether I'd prefer the NYC summers (which are often filled with disgusting humidity, thunderstorms and insect bites beyond belief) or an earlier, longer spring, rather than the four weeks we get in April/May before it becomes sweltering.
My usual blithe (and honest) answer is that February is the shortest month. Yes, I give myself a day off for VD so that TOH and I can enjoy a bottle or two of plonk. So, in fact, it's only 27 days. But that seems enough for me.
Some people suggest March, however, little preparing themselves for the horror that suggestion inspires. Frankly, March is already dreadful enough without prohibiting myself from a warming glass of bourbon, a comforting spicy red wine or something along those lines. I have grown to loathe March since moving to the US. At home it's nippy and windy and rainy, it's true, but it's somehow offset by the blossom and blooms and sense that the year really is progressing to warmer, nicer weather. By this time of year the magnolia tree on my road is in near to full bloom, Mum and I hopefully will have already had a trip out to see the bluebells, and there will be crocuses and daffodils everywhere, with the air often heavy with the smell of hyacinths.
Days like today solidify my loathing. It's extremely gloomy; the clocks having changed made no odds this morning with the murky light barely penetrating my windows, making it seem as if I were up at half five instead of closer to eight. It's just above freezing, and raining, although we're promised by the weather people that this will all clear up this afternoon and be positively warm starting tomorrow. But, not trusting March, I can't quite believe there won't still be some sting in the tail, some snow left to come. The mini gardens along the route to work are still scrubby and brown, there's hardly any foliage anywhere as of yet. There are daffodils poking their green shoots out in the garden but they won't arrive fully for another couple of weeks yet.
Many people complain about the "summer" in Britain, whether from there or overseas, but for me, it's a very close run thing as to whether I'd prefer the NYC summers (which are often filled with disgusting humidity, thunderstorms and insect bites beyond belief) or an earlier, longer spring, rather than the four weeks we get in April/May before it becomes sweltering.
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